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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Molly Brown of Kentucky, by Nell Speed
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Molly Brown of Kentucky
+
+
+Author: Nell Speed
+
+
+
+Release Date: July 15, 2011  [eBook #36736]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, eagkw,
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
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+      See 36736-h.htm or 36736-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36736/36736-h/36736-h.htm)
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+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: One by one they emerged from their corner.--_Page 237._]
+
+
+MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY
+
+by
+
+NELL SPEED
+
+Author of
+"The Tucker Twins Series," "The Carter
+Girls Series," etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A. L. Burt Company
+Publishers      New York
+
+Printed in U. S. A.
+
+Copyright, 1917,
+By
+Hurst & Company, Inc.
+
+Printed in U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                               PAGE
+
+        I  A LETTER                        5
+
+       II  THE ORCHARD HOME               19
+
+      III  KENT BROWN                     37
+
+       IV  AFTERNOON TEA                  51
+
+        V  LETTERS FROM PARIS AND BERLIN  61
+
+       VI  AT THE TRICOTS'                80
+
+      VII  A MOTHER'S FAITH               99
+
+     VIII  DES HALLES                    112
+
+       IX  THE AMERICAN MAIL             123
+
+        X  THE ZEPPELIN RAID             132
+
+       XI  "L'HIRONDELLE DE MER"         138
+
+      XII  TUTNO                         147
+
+     XIII  THE "SIGNY"                   160
+
+      XIV  THE CABLEGRAM                 167
+
+       XV  WELLINGTON AGAIN              185
+
+      XVI  IRISHMAN'S CURTAINS           200
+
+     XVII  HEROES AND HERO WORSHIPERS    221
+
+    XVIII  CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE       246
+
+      XIX  WASTED DYE                    263
+
+       XX  A WAR BRIDE                   270
+
+      XXI  THE FLIGHT                    283
+
+     XXII  THE WEDDING BREAKFAST         296
+
+    XXIII  THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER      304
+
+
+
+
+Molly Brown of Kentucky.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+A LETTER.
+
+
+From Miss Julia Kean to Mrs. Edwin Green.
+
+                                            Giverny, France,
+                                                 August, 1914.
+
+Dearest old Molly Brown of Kentucky:
+
+You can marry a million Professor Edwin Greens, B.A., M.A., Ph.D., L.D.
+(the last stands for lucky dog), and you can also have a million little
+Green Olive Branches, but you will still be Molly Brown of Kentucky to
+all of your old friends.
+
+I came up to Giverny last week with the Polly Perkinses. They are great
+fun and, strange to say, get on rather better than most married folks.
+Jo is much meeker than we ever thought she could be, now that she has
+made Polly cut his hair and has let her own grow out. Polly is more
+manly, too, I think and asserts himself occasionally, much to Jo's
+delight. I should not be at all astonished if his falsetto voice turned
+into a baritone, if not a deep bass. He walks with quite a swagger and
+talks about my wife this and my wife that in such masculine pride that
+you would not know him.
+
+Paris was rather excited when we came through last week. I have been at
+Quimperle all summer and only stopped in Paris long enough to get some
+paints and canvas. I had actually painted out. Jo had written me to join
+her in this little housekeeping scheme at Giverny. I wish you could see
+the house we have taken. It is too wonderful that it is ours! Such peace
+and quiet! Especially so, after the turmoil in Paris. I have seen so few
+papers that I hardly know what it is all about; no doubt you in Kentucky
+with your _Courier Journal_ know more than I do. They talk of war, but
+of course that is nonsense. Anyhow, if there is a war, I bet I am going
+to be Johnny on the Spot. But of course there won't be one.
+
+I miss Kent,--but I need hardly tell you that. I almost gave in and
+sailed with him, but it was much best for me to wait in France for my
+mother and father. They are now in Berlin waiting for the powers that be
+to give some kind of a permit for some kind of a road that Bobby is to
+build from Constantinople to the interior; that is, he is to build it if
+he can get the permission of the Imperial Government. What the Germans
+have to do with Turkey, you can search me, but that is what Bobby writes
+me. He has done a lot of work on it already in the way of preliminary
+plans. I am to hang around until I hear from them, so I am going to hang
+around with the Polly Perkinses.
+
+No doubt Kent is home by this time. I envy him, somehow. It is so
+wonderful to have a home to go to. Now isn't that a silly line of talk
+for Judy Kean to be getting off, I, who have always declared that a
+Gypsy van was my idea of bliss? I never have had a home and I never
+have wanted one until lately. I fancy that winter in Paris with your
+mother in the Rue Brea was my undoing. Of course, if Bobby had been
+anything but a civil engineer and Mamma had been anything but so much
+married to Bobby that she had to trot around with him from one end of
+the earth to the other, why then, I might have had a home. But Bobby is
+Bobby and he wouldn't have been himself doing anything but building
+roads, and I certainly would not have had Mamma let him build them all
+by his lonesome. The truth of the matter is, I was a mistake. I
+should either never have been born or I should have been born a boy.
+Geewhillikins! What a boy I would have been! Somehow, I'm glad I'm not,
+though.
+
+I am wild to see little Mildred. It seems so wonderful for you to be a
+mother. I know you will make a great job of being one, too. Are you
+going to have her be an old-fashioned baby with the foregone conclusion
+that she must "eat her peck of dirt," or is she to be one of these
+infants whose toys must be sterilized before she is allowed to play
+with them, and who is too easily contaminated to be kissed unless the
+kisser gargles first with corrosive sublimate? Please let me know about
+this, because kiss her I must and will, and if I have to be aseptic
+before I can do it, I fancy I had better begin right now. Here is Polly
+with the mail and Paris papers. Will finish later.
+
+It has come! Actual war! We feel like fools to have rushed off here to
+the country without knowing more about the state France was in. I can
+hardly believe it even now. They are asking Americans to leave Paris,
+but I can't leave. How can I, with Mamma and Papa in Berlin? I am going
+to stay right where I am until things settle themselves a little. The
+peasants even now do not believe it has come. We are not much more than
+an hour from Paris, but there are many persons living in this village
+who have never been to Paris. The old men stand in groups and talk
+politics, disagreeing on every subject under the sun except the one
+great subject and that is Germany. Hatred of Germany is the one thing
+that there are no two minds about. The women look big-eyed and
+awestruck. There are no young men--all gone to war. They went off
+singing and joking.
+
+
+What I long for most is news. We don't get any news to speak of. I am
+filled with concern about Bobby and Mamma. It is foolish, as they are
+able to take care of themselves, but Bobby is so sassy. I am so afraid
+he might jaw back at the Emperor. He is fully capable of calling him to
+account for his behavior. Some one should, but I hope it won't be Bobby.
+
+
+Polly Perkins is going to drive a Red Cross Ambulance. He is quite
+determined, so determined that he has actually produced a chin from
+somewhere (you remember he boasted none to speak of). It is quite
+becoming to him, this determination and chin, and Jo is beaming with
+pride. I believe if Polly had wanted to run, it would have killed Jo.
+
+
+Excuse the jerkiness of this, but I am so excited that I can only jot
+down a little at a time. Things are moving fast! The artists and near
+artists at Madame Gaston's Inn are piling out, making for Paris, some to
+sail for United States and others to try to get into England. Jo and I
+had determined to sit tight in our little house with its lovely walled
+garden that seems a kind of protection to us--not that we are scared,
+bless you no! We just felt we might as well be here as anywhere else.
+
+This morning Jo came to breakfast looking kind of different and yet kind
+of familiar--she had cut off her hair!
+
+"I mean to follow Polly," she remarked simply.
+
+"Follow him where?"
+
+"Wherever he goes." And do you know, Molly, the redoubtable Jo burst
+into tears?
+
+I was never more shocked in my life. If your Aunt Sarah Clay had
+dissolved into tears, I would not have been more at a loss how to
+conduct myself. I patted her heartily on the back but the poor girl
+wanted a shoulder to weep on and I lent her one. I tell you when Jo gets
+started she is some bawler. I fancy she made up for all the many years
+that crying has been out of her ken.
+
+My neck is stiff from the wetting I got. Nothing short of the plumber
+could have stopped her. When she finally went dry, she began to talk:
+
+"By I'b glad Bolly didn zee be bake zuch a vool ob byself!"
+
+"Well, you had better look after your p's and s's or you'll be taken up
+as a German spy." That made her laugh and then she went on to tell me
+what she meant to do, the p's still too much for her but her s's
+improving.
+
+"What's the use of my brofession now? I'd like to know that. Miniature
+painting will be no good for years to come. This war is going to be
+something that'll make everybody baint on big canvasses. Who will want
+to look at anything little? I tell you, Judy, the day of mastodons is at
+hand! There'll be no more lap-dogs, no more pet canaries. The one time
+lap-dogs will find themselves raging lions; and the pet canaries will
+grow to great eagles and burst the silly wires of their cages with a
+snap of their fingers----"
+
+"Whose fingers?" I demanded.
+
+"Never mind whose! Mixed metaphors are perfectly permissible in war
+time." I was glad to see she could say such a word as permissible, which
+meant that her storm of weeping had subsided.
+
+"Are you going as a Red Cross nurse?" I asked.
+
+"Nurse your grandmother! I'm going to drive an ambulance or maybe fly."
+
+"But they won't want a woman in the thick of the fight!"
+
+"Well, who's to know? When I get a good hair-cut and put on some of
+Polly's togs, I bet I'll make as good a man as Pol--no, I won't say
+that. I'll never be as good a man as he is. I'm going to try the
+aviation racket first. If they won't take me, I'll get with the Red
+Cross, somehow. I know I could fly like a bird. I have never yet seen
+the wheels that I could not understand the turning of. I believe it is
+not so easy to get aviators. It is so hazardous that men don't go in for
+it. I am light weight but awfully strong."
+
+"But, Jo, what are you going to do about your feet?" You remember,
+Molly, what pretty little feet Jo has.
+
+"Oh, I'll wear some of Polly's shoes and stuff out the toes. I bet I'll
+walk like Charlie Chaplin, but when one is flying, it doesn't make much
+difference about feet."
+
+Nothing is going to stop her. She is to start to Paris to-morrow, and I
+will go, too. I know all of you think I should stay here in G---- until
+I can get into communication with Bobby, but Molly Brown, I can't do it.
+When history is being made, I simply can't stand aside and see it. I've
+got to get in it by hook or crook.
+
+Don't be scared--I am not going to fly! I wish I could, but I promised
+Kent Brown I would never fly with any man but him, and while it was done
+in jest, in a way I still feel that a promise must be kept. I wish I
+were not made that way. I'd like to dress up like Jo Bill Perkins and
+pass as a man, and I could do it quite as well as Jo, in spite of her
+having practiced being a boy all her life, but I can't help thinking
+what Bobby has always said to me: "Just remember you are a lady and you
+can't go far wrong." Somehow, I am afraid if I cut off my hair and
+discarded skirts, I might forget I am a lady. It is an awful nuisance
+being one, anyhow.
+
+I don't know just what I am going to do, but I certainly can't cross the
+Atlantic, with Bobby and poor little Mamma somewhere in Germany, maybe
+locked up in dungeons or something. I know it won't help them any for me
+to be in France, but at least I will be nearer to them geographically.
+
+My letter of credit on the Paris bankers will put me on easy street
+financially, so as far as money is concerned, Bobby will know I am all
+right. I can't think the war will last very long. Surely all the neutral
+countries will just step in and stop it. The French are looking to
+United States. It is very amusing to hear the old peasants talk about
+Lafayette. They seem to think tit for tat: if they helped us out more
+than a century ago, we will have to help them out now.
+
+I can't tell what I think just yet. Everything is in too much of a
+turmoil. I wish I knew what Bobby thinks. He is always so sane in his
+political opinions. I get more and more uneasy about them, Bobby and
+Mamma. Such terrible tales of the Germans are coming to us. I don't
+believe them, at least not all of them. How could a kindly, rather
+bovine race suddenly turn into raging tigers? Why should any one want
+to do anything to Bobby? I comfort myself with that thought and then I
+remember how hot-headed and impulsive he is, inherited directly from me,
+his daughter, and I begin to tremble.
+
+Jo and I are settling up our affairs here. Madame Gaston is to take
+charge of our few belongings. I have a hunch it will be best to lighten
+our luggage all we can. Jo is not going to turn into a man until we get
+to Paris. She is too funny in her envy of old Mère Gaspard because of
+her big moustache. You know how many of the French peasant women have
+quite mannish beards and moustaches. Mother Gaspard has the largest and
+most formidable one I have ever seen, although she is a most motherly
+old soul, not a bit fatherly.
+
+I will write from Paris again. I know Kent is in a state of grouch with
+himself for sailing when he did. I believe he feels as I do about things
+happening. I don't want houses to burn down, but if they do burn, I want
+to see the fire; I don't want dogs to fight, but if there is a dog fight
+going on, I am certainly going to stand on my tiptoes and look over the
+crowd and see them tear each other up; I certainly don't want the
+Nations to go to war, but if they will do it, I am going to have
+experiences.
+
+Please give my best love to all the family and a thoroughly sterilized
+kiss to that marvelous infant. I verily believe if it had not been for
+Kent's overweening desire to behold that baby, he would have waited over
+for another steamer and in that way found himself in the thick of the
+fight. I am glad he went, however. If Polly Perkins developed a chin and
+rushed off, what might Kent have done with an overdevelopment of chin
+already there?
+
+                                            Yours always,
+                                                         JUDY.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE ORCHARD HOME.
+
+
+"R. F. D., late as usual," laughed Molly, as Mr. Bud Woodsmall's very
+ramshackle Ford runabout came careening through the lane and up the hill
+to the yard gate. "I fancy he has had to stop and talk war at every mail
+box on his route."
+
+"I think I'll go meet him," said Professor Edwin Green, rather
+reluctantly arising from the chaise longue that seemed to have been
+built to fit his lack of curves, he declared. He had been sitting on the
+porch of the bungalow, eyes half closed to shut out everything from his
+vision but the picture of Molly holding the sleeping baby in her arms.
+
+"You know you want to gossip with him--now 'fess up!"
+
+"Well, I do like to hear his views of the situation in Europe. They
+are original, at least. He says Yankee capitalists are the cause of it
+all. Don't you want me to put Mildred down? She has been asleep for
+half an hour," and the young husband and father stood for a moment and
+looked down on his treasures with what Judy Kean always called his
+faithful-collie-dog eyes.
+
+"I know I oughtn't to hold her while she is asleep, but she seems so
+wonderful I can't bear to let her go. I think she is growing more like
+you, Edwin."
+
+"Like me! Nonsense! That would be a sad thing to have wished on the poor
+innocent when there are so many handsome folks in the Carmichael and
+Brown family from whom she could inherit real beauty."
+
+"But Edwin, you are handsome, I think. You are so noble looking."
+
+"All right, honey, have it your own way," and he stooped and kissed her.
+"I will allow that the baby has inherited my bald head if you like--Hi
+there!" he called to Mr. Woodsmall, who was preparing to unlock the
+mail box, "I'll come get it," and he sprinted down the walk where the
+garrulous postman held him enthralled for a good fifteen minutes. A blue
+envelope with a foreign postmark told him there was a letter from Julia
+Kean that would be eagerly welcomed by Molly, but there was no stopping
+the flow of R. F. D.'s eloquence. The causes of the war being thoroughly
+threshed out, he finally took his reluctant departure.
+
+"A letter from Judy Kean! Now you will have to put the baby down!"
+
+So little Mildred was tenderly placed in her basket on the porch and
+Molly opened the voluminous epistle from the beloved Judy.
+
+"Oh, Edwin, she is not coming home! I was afraid she would want to do
+something Judyesque. Only listen!" and Molly read the Giverny letter to
+her husband.
+
+"What do you think Kent will say to this? I know he is very uneasy about
+her anyhow since the war broke out, and now--well, I'm glad I'm not in
+his shoes. She is not very considerate of him, I must say."
+
+"Oh, you men folks!" laughed Molly. "I can't see how she could leave
+France until she knows something about her mother and father, and after
+all, I don't believe Kent and Judy are engaged."
+
+"Not engaged! What do you think Kent has been doing this whole year in
+Paris if he wasn't getting engaged?"
+
+"Studying Architecture at the Beaux Arts. Sometimes persons can know one
+another a long time and be together a lot and not get engaged," she
+teased. It was a very well-known fact that Professor Edwin Green had
+been in love with Molly Brown for at least five years, and maybe longer,
+before he put the all important question.
+
+"Yes, I know, but then----"
+
+"Then what? My brother Kent is certainly not able to support a wife yet,
+and maybe they are opposed to long engagements."
+
+"Well, all the same I am sorry for Kent. It was bad enough when you went
+abroad and the ocean was between us and I knew you were being well taken
+care of by your dear mother,--but just suppose it had been war time and
+you had been alone! The news from France is very grave. It looks as
+though the Germans would eat Christmas dinner in Paris as they boast
+they will."
+
+"Oh, Edwin, no!" and Molly turned pale.
+
+"Well, look at these head lines in to-day's paper. It looks very
+ominous. When did you say you were expecting Kent home?"
+
+"By to-morrow at latest. He wrote Mother he was to stay some time in New
+York to try to land a job that looked very promising."
+
+"Here she comes now!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy as it
+always did when his mother-in-law appeared on the scene.
+
+Mrs. Brown was coming through the orchard from Chatsworth. Her hair had
+turned a little greyer since Molly's marriage, but not much; her step
+was still light and active; her grey eyes as full of life; and in her
+heart the same eternal youth.
+
+"Well, children! Did you get any mail? How is my precious little
+granddaughter? I've a letter from Kent. It just did beat him home. Paul
+'phoned from Louisville that he is in town now, just arrived and will
+be here with him this afternoon. I am so excited!"
+
+Dear Mrs. Brown's life was made up of such excitements now: her children
+always going and returning. Mildred, Mrs. Crittenden Rutledge, had left
+for Iowa only two days before, having spent two months with her little
+family at Chatsworth; now Kent was almost home; and in less than a month
+the Greens would make their annual move to Wellington. Sue, the eldest
+daughter, married to young Cyrus Clay, lived within a few miles of
+Chatsworth and seemed the only one who was a fixture. Paul's newspaper
+work kept him in Louisville most of the time and John, the doctor, made
+flying visits to his home but had to make his headquarters in the city
+for fear of missing patients. Ernest, the eldest son, was threatening to
+come home and settle at Chatsworth, but that was still an uncertainty.
+
+"I must read you Judy's letter, Mother. I know you will feel as uneasy
+as we do about her. Edwin thinks she should come home, but I think she
+could hardly leave, not knowing something more definite about her
+mother and father, who may be bottled up in Germany indefinitely."
+
+"Only think of the sizzle Mr. Kean will make when they finally draw the
+cork," laughed Mrs. Brown; but when Molly read the whole of Judy's
+letter to her, the laughter left her countenance and she looked very
+solemn and disturbed.
+
+"Poor Kent!" she sighed.
+
+"I wonder what he will do," from Molly.
+
+"Do? Why, he will do what the men of his blood should do!" Mrs. Brown
+held her head very high and her delicate nostrils quivered in the way
+her family knew meant either anger or high resolve. "He will go to
+France and either stay and protect Judy or bring her back to his
+mother."
+
+"But, Mother, are you going to ask this of him? Maybe he won't think it
+is the right thing to do."
+
+"Of course, I am not going to ask it of him. I just know the 'mettle of
+his pasture.'"
+
+"But the expense!"
+
+"Expense! Molly, you don't sound like yourself. What is expense when
+your loved ones are in danger?"
+
+"But I can't think that Judy could be in real danger."
+
+"I can't think anything else. You surely have not read the morning
+paper. The Germans are advancing so rapidly.... The atrocities in
+Belgium! Ugh! I can't contemplate our Judy being anywhere in their
+reach."
+
+"But, Mother, they must be exaggerated! People could not do what they
+say they have done, not good, kind German soldiers."
+
+"Molly! Molly! Your goodness will even let you love the Germans. I am
+not made that way. The Anglo Saxon in me is so uppermost and I feel such
+a boiling and bubbling in my veins that nothing but my grey hairs keeps
+me from joining the Red Cross myself and helping the Allies!"
+
+"Well, then you don't blame Miss Judy Kean," laughed Professor Green,
+who never loved his mother-in-law more than when, as old Aunt Mary
+expressed it, "her nose was a-wuckin'."
+
+"Blame her! No, indeed! If I were her age, I'd do exactly what she is
+doing, but I should certainly have expected Molly's father to come over
+and protect me while I was being so foolhardy."
+
+"Judy doesn't say she is going as a nurse," said Molly, referring to the
+letter. "Jo Williams is to fly and Judy seems uncertain what she is
+going to do,--just see the fight, as far as I can make out. I know Judy
+so well I just can't feel uneasy about her. You mustn't think I am
+mercenary, Mother, or careless of my friend. Judy always lands on her
+feet and is as much of an adept in getting out of scrapes as she is in
+getting in them."
+
+"My darling, of course I didn't mean you were mercenary," cried Mrs.
+Brown, seeing in Molly's blue eyes a little hurt look at the vigorous
+tone she had taken when Molly merely suggested expense. "I just think in
+your desire to think well of every one, nations as well as individuals,
+that you are blind to the terrors of this war. If Judy will only go to
+Sally Bolling, she will be taken care of. I fancy Sally is at La Roche
+Craie now."
+
+"Oh, I had forgotten to think of what this must mean to Cousin Sally!"
+exclaimed Molly. "The truth of the matter is that it is so peaceful here
+my imagination cannot picture what it is over there. I am growing
+selfish with contentment. Of course Philippe d'Ochtè will join his
+regiment and poor Cousin Sally and the Marquis will suffer agonies over
+him."
+
+"Yes and over France!" said Edwin solemnly. "I remember so well a
+conversation I had with the Marquis d'Ochtè on the subject of his
+country. I believe he really and truly puts his country above even his
+adored wife and son. That is more patriotism than I could be capable
+of----"
+
+"Not a bit of it, my dear Edwin," broke in Mrs. Brown.
+
+    "'I could not love thee half so well
+      Loved I not honour more.'
+
+"Molly and your little baby Mildred are but a part of your country, and
+if the time should come and your country called you, you would answer
+the call just as I hope my own sons would."
+
+"Oh, Mother, you are a Spartan! I am not so brave, I am afraid," said
+Molly. "Even now at the thought of war, I am thanking God my Mildred
+baby is a girl."
+
+Little Mildred, at mention of her name, although it would be many a day
+before she would know what her name was, awakened and gave an
+inarticulate gurgle. Mrs. Brown dropped the rôle of Spartan Mother and
+turned into a doting grandmother in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+"And was um little tootsie wootsies cold? Come to your Granny and let
+her warm them. Molly, this baby has grown a foot, I do believe, and look
+what a fine, strong, straight back she has! And does oo want your Granny
+to rub your back? Only look, her eyes have brown lights in them! I said
+all the time she would have brown eyes."
+
+"And not Molly's blue eyes! Oh, Mother, that is very bad news to me.
+Why, the baby's eyes are as blue as the sea now. They could not change,"
+and Edwin Green peered into his offspring's face with such intentness
+that the little thing began to whimper.
+
+The proper indignation being expressed by the females and the baby
+dangled until smiles came and a crow, Mrs. Brown informed the ignorant
+father that all young animals have blue eyes and there is no determining
+the actual colour of a baby's eyes until it is several months old, but
+that the minute brown or golden lights begin to appear in blue eyes, you
+can get ready to declare for a brown-eyed youngster.
+
+"Well, she will surely have Molly's hair," he insisted.
+
+"That we can't tell, either," said the all-knowing grandmother. "You
+see, she is almost bald now except for this tiny fringe that is rapidly
+being worn off in the back. That does seem a little pinkish."
+
+"Pinkish! Oh, Mother-in-law, what a word to express my Molly's hair!"
+
+"Can't you see she is getting even with you for making Mildred almost
+cry?" laughed Molly. "I know she is going to have my hair because when
+you slip a little bit of blue under that little lock that is on the
+side, where it hasn't rubbed off, the 'pink' comes out quite plainly. My
+Mildred will be a belle. I have always heard it said that a girl with
+brown eyes and golden hair is born to be a belle. Oh, yes, I will call
+the baby's hair golden although I have always called my own red."
+
+"I don't know whether I want her to be a belle or not," objected Edwin.
+"She might be frivolous."
+
+"Frivolous with your eyes! Heavens, Daddy, she couldn't be!"
+
+Mrs. Brown contentedly smiled and rocked the baby, who crowed and cooed
+and kicked her pretty pink tootsies. The sun shone on the orchard home
+and a particularly obliging mocking bird burst into song from one of the
+gnarled old apple trees, heavy with its luscious fruit. Mocking birds
+are supposed not to sing in August, but sometimes they do, and when
+they do, their song is as wonderful and welcome as an unlooked-for
+legacy.
+
+Molly looked over the fields of waving blue grass to the dark beech
+woods that bordered the pasture, a feeling of great happiness and
+contentment in her heart. How peaceful and sweet was life! She leaned
+against her husband, who put an ever-ready arm around her, and together
+they gazed on the fruitful landscape. Mrs. Brown crooned to the baby a
+song ever dear to her own children and one that had been sung to her by
+her own negro mammy.
+
+     "Mammy went away--she tol' me ter stay,
+        An' tek good keer er de baby,
+      She tol' me ter stay an' sing dis away:
+        Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby!
+
+      Oh, go ter sleep! sleepy little baby,
+        Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby,
+      Kaze when yer wake, yo'll git some cake,
+        An' ride a little white horsey!
+
+      We'll stop up de cracks an' sew up de seams--
+        De Booger Man never shall ketch you!
+      Oh, go ter sleep an' dream sweet dreams--
+        De Booger Man never shall ketch you!
+
+      Oh, go ter sleep! sleepy little baby,
+        Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby,
+      Kaze when you wake, you'll git some cake,
+        An' lots er nice sugar candy!"
+
+How could whole countries be at war and such peace reign in any spot on
+the globe?
+
+The whirr of an approaching motor awoke them from their musings and
+stopped the delightful song before one-third of the stanzas had been
+sung. It was Kent with John in the doctor's little runabout.
+
+"My boy! my boy!" and Mrs. Brown dropped the baby in her basket and flew
+across the grass to greet the long-absent Kent.
+
+"I couldn't wait for Paul but had to get old Dr. John to bring me out.
+Mumsy, how plump and pink you are. I declare you look almost as young as
+the new baby," said Kent after the first raptures of greeting were over.
+"And Molly, you look great! And 'Fessor Green, I declare you are getting
+fat. I bet you have gained at least three-quarters of a pound since you
+got married. Positively obese!"
+
+"You haven't said much about the baby," objected Molly.
+
+"Well, there's not much to say, is there? She is an omnivorous biped, I
+gather, from the two feet I can see and her evident endeavor to eat
+them, at least, I fancy that is why she is kicking so high. She has got
+Edwin's er--er--well--his high forehead----"
+
+"She is not nearly so bald-headed as you were yourself," declared his
+mother. "You were such a lovely baby, Kent, the loveliest of all my
+babies, I believe. I always adored a bald-headed baby and you had a head
+like a little billiard ball."
+
+They all laughed at this and Kent confessed that if he had been
+bald-headed himself, he believed the little Mildred must be, after all,
+very charming.
+
+"Any letters for me?" he asked, and Molly thought she detected a note of
+anxiety below all the nonsense he had been talking.
+
+"No, I have not seen any."
+
+"Well, have you heard from--from Judy Kean?"
+
+"Yes," confessed Molly. "I got a letter to-day."
+
+"Please may I see it?"
+
+"Yes, of course you may."
+
+But Molly felt a great reluctance to show Julia Kean's letter to her
+brother. She knew very well he was uneasy already about their friend
+and was certain this letter would only heighten his concern. Kent was
+looking brown and sturdy; he seemed to her to have grown even taller
+than the six feet one he already measured when he went abroad. His
+boyish countenance had taken on more purpose and his jaw had an added
+squareness. His deep set grey eyes had a slight cloud in them that Molly
+and her mother hated to see.
+
+"It is Judy, of course," they said to themselves.
+
+"I landed my job in New York," he said, as he opened the little blue
+envelope.
+
+"Splendid!" exclaimed Molly.
+
+Mrs. Brown tried to say splendid, too, but the thought came to her:
+"Another one going away from home!" and she could only put her arm
+around her boy's neck and press a kiss on his brown head.
+
+They were all very quiet while Kent read the letter. Dr. John, alone,
+seemed disinterested. He very professionally poked the infant in the
+ribs to see how fat she had grown and, also, much to the indignation of
+Molly, went through some tests for idiocy, which, of course, the tiny
+baby could not pass.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+KENT BROWN.
+
+
+"Mother, will you come and take a little walk with me?" asked Kent as he
+finished Judy's letter. With his hand trembling, although his eyes were
+very steady and his mouth very firm, he tucked the many thin blue sheets
+back in their envelope.
+
+"Yes, my son!" Mrs. Brown held her head very high and in her expression
+one could very well read: "I told you so! Did I not know the 'mettle of
+his pasture'?"
+
+"Mother," he said, as he drew her arm in his and they took their way
+through the orchard to the garden of Chatsworth, "I must go get Judy!"
+
+"Yes, my son, of course you must."
+
+"Oh, Mother, you think it is the only thing to do?"
+
+"Of course, I know it is the only thing to do. I told Molly and Edwin
+only a few minutes ago that you would want to do it."
+
+"And what a mother! I--well, you know, Mother, I am not engaged to
+Judy--not exactly, that is. She knows how I feel about her and
+somehow--I can't say for sure--but I almost know she feels the same way
+about me, at least, feels somehow about me."
+
+"Of course she does! How could she help it?"
+
+"You see, I knew it would be some time before I could make a decent
+living, and it did not seem fair to Judy to tie her down when maybe she
+might strike some fellow who would be so much more worth while than I
+am----"
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"I used to think maybe Pierce Kinsella would be her choice, when they
+painted together so much."
+
+"That boy! Why, Kent, how could you?"
+
+"Well, he was a very handsome and brilliant boy and is pretty well fixed
+by his uncle's generosity and bids fair to make one of the leading
+portrait painters of the day. His portrait of you has made every lady
+who has seen it want him to do one of her. Of course, he can't make all
+of 'em look like you, but he does his best."
+
+"It may have been wise of you not to settle this little matter with
+Judy, son, but somehow--I wish you had."
+
+"It was hard not to, but I felt she was so far away from her parents. I
+thought she would be back in America in a month, at least. I wanted her
+to come with me, but she felt she must wait for them, and of course, I
+had to hurry back because of the possible job in New York. I am afraid
+that I will lose that now, but there will be others, and I just can't
+think of the things that might happen to my Judy--she is my Judy,
+whether we are engaged or not."
+
+"When will you start, son?"
+
+"Why, to-night, if you don't mind."
+
+"Certainly to-night! I have money for you."
+
+"Oh, Mother, the money part is the only thing worrying me. I have a
+little left, but not enough to get me over and back. I must have enough
+to bring Judy back, too. You see, a letter of credit now in Paris is
+not worth the paper it is on."
+
+"No, I did not know. That is the one part of Judy's letter that put me
+at ease about her. I thought she had plenty of money, and money
+certainly does help out."
+
+"Well, that is the part of her letter that made me know I must go get
+her. The Americans who are abroad simply can't get checks cashed. She
+might even be hungry, poor little Judy."
+
+"Thank goodness, I have some money--all owing to Judy's father, too! If
+he had not seen the bubbles on that puddle in the rocky pasture, we
+would never have known there was oil there. What better could we do with
+the money that Mr. Kean got for us than use it to succor his daughter?"
+
+"Oh, Mother, you are so--so--bully! I know no other word to express what
+you are. I am going to pay back every cent I borrow from you. Thank
+goodness, I saved a little from the money I made on the architectural
+sketches I did for the article Dickson wrote on the French country
+homes. I'm going over steerage."
+
+"You are going over in the first class cabin! Steerage, indeed! I lend
+no money for such a trip."
+
+"All right, Mother! You are the boss. And now, don't you think I'll have
+time to go see Aunt Mary a few minutes?"
+
+"Of course you must go see the poor old woman. She has been afraid she
+would not live until you got home. She is very feeble. Dear old Aunt
+Mary!"
+
+They had reached the Chatsworth garden and Kent noticed with delight the
+hollyhocks that had flourished wonderfully since he had dug them up that
+moonlight night more than three years ago and transplanted them from the
+chicken yard, where no one ever saw them, to the beds in the garden, and
+all because Miss Julia Kean had regretted that they were not there to
+make a background for the bridal party, after they had determined to
+have Mildred's wedding out of doors.
+
+"Haven't they come on wonderfully? I know Judy would like to see how
+well they have done. I think hollyhocks are the most decorative of all
+flowers. I wonder we never had them in the garden before, Mother."
+
+Both of them were thinking of Mildred's wedding on that rare day in
+June. Kent remembered with some satisfaction that in the general
+confusion that ensued after Mildred and Crit were pronounced, by Dr.
+Peters, to be man and wife, and everybody was kissing everybody else, he
+had had presence of mind to take advantage of the license accorded on
+the occasion of a family wedding and had kissed his sister Molly's
+college friend, Miss Julia Kean.
+
+"By Jove! I think war ought to give a fellow some privilege, too," he
+declared to himself. "I think I'll do the same when I see the young lady
+in France."
+
+They found Aunt Mary lying in state in a great four poster bed, while
+her meek half-sister, Sukey Jourdan, administered to her wants, which
+were many and frequent.
+
+"Lawsamussy, if that ain't that there Kent! Whar you come from, son? I
+done got so old an' feeble I can't say mister ter nobody. You alls is
+all Ernest and Sue and Paul and John and Mildred and Kent and Molly ter
+me. Cepn Molly is Molly Baby. I still got strenth fer that. Law, Miss
+Milly, ain't he growed?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Mary, he is looking so well, and now he is going to turn
+right around and go back to France to-night."
+
+"Don't say it! Lawsamussy, Miss Milly, did he fergit somethin'?"
+
+"Well, not exactly," laughed Kent, "but I didn't bring something with me
+that I should have."
+
+"Well, you be sho ter make a cross an' spit in it. If'n you fergits
+somethin' er fin's you has ter tu'n aroun' an' go back 'thout res'in' a
+piece, if'n you makes a cross an' spits in it, you is sho ter have good
+luck. Here you, Sukey, set a better cheer for Miss Milly. Wherfo' you
+done give her sich a straight up'n down cheer?"
+
+"Oh, this will do very well, Sukey," said Mrs. Brown.
+
+"You bring another, Sukey. I don' see what makes you so keerless. I low
+if'n 'twar that no count Buck Jourdan, you'd be drawin' up the sofy fer
+his triflin' bones."
+
+Poor Sukey had no easy job to keep Aunt Mary satisfied. The old woman,
+having been a most energetic and tireless person in her day, could not
+understand that the whole world of darkeys could not be as she had been.
+Sukey's son Buck, the apple of her mild eye, was the bane of Aunt Mary's
+existence. She never missed a chance to make her younger half-sister
+miserable on his account. Indeed, Sukey, mild as she was, would not have
+stayed with Aunt Mary except for the fact that Aunt Mary had insured her
+life for her with the understanding that she was to minister to her to
+the end. It was dearly paid for, this service, as the old woman was most
+exacting. Lenient to a degree of softness with white folks, she was
+adamant with those of her own race.
+
+"How do you feel, Aunt Mary?" asked Kent, looking with sorrow on the
+wasted features of the beloved old woman.
+
+"Well, I'm a feelin' tolerable peart this mornin' although endurin' of
+the night I thought my hour had struck. I got ter dreamin' 'bout my
+fun'ral, an' I got so mad cause Sis Ria Bowles done brought a fun'ral
+zine like one she done tuck ter Brer Jackson's orgies! An' dead or not,
+I wa'nt gonter stan' fer no sich monkey shines over me."
+
+"Why, what did she take to Brother Jackson's funeral?" laughed Kent.
+
+"Ain't you heard tel er that? She cut a cross outn that there sticky
+tangle yo' foot fly paper en' she kivered it all over with daisy haids
+an' call herse'f bringing a zine. I riz up an' spoke my mind in my dream
+an' I let all these here niggers in Jeff'son County know that if they
+don't see that I gits a fust class fun'ral, I gonter rise up when I
+ain't a dreamin' an' speak my min'."
+
+Sukey Jourdan listened to this tirade with her eyes bulging out of her
+head, much to Aunt Mary's satisfaction, as she very well knew that the
+way to manage her race was to intimidate them.
+
+"I done been carryin' insuriance in two clubs an' a comp'ny, an' betwixt
+'em I's entitled ter seventeen hacks. I'm a trustin' ter Miss Milly an'
+that there Paul ter make 'em treat me proper. Paul done say he will
+black list 'em in his newspaper if'n they leave off one tit or jottle
+from the 'greement. I sho would like ter see my fun'ral. I low it's a
+goin' ter be pretty stylish. I done pinted my pall buriers an' bought
+they gloves an' I low ter be laid out myself in my best black silk what
+Miss Milly done gimme goin' on sixteen year, come nex' Christmas. I
+ain't a wo' it much, as I had in min' ter save it fer my buryin'. Some
+of the mimbers gits buried in palls made er white silk. They do look
+right han'some laid out in 'em, but then palls is made 'thout a piece er
+back an' I has a notion that when Gabrel blows his trump on that great
+an' turrerble day that ole Mary Morton ain't a goin' ter be caught
+without no back ter her grabe clothes. It mought make no diffrunce if'n
+Peter will let me pass on in, 'cause I low that the shining robes will
+be a waitin' fer me--but sposin'--jes' sposin'----" and the dear old
+woman's face clouded over with anguish, "jes' sposin' Peter'll say:
+'You, Mary Morton, g'long from this here portcullis. You blongs in the
+tother d'rection,' an' I'll hab ter tun 'roun' an' take the broad road
+ter hell! What'll I feel like, if'n I ain't got no back ter my frock?
+No, sir! I's a goin' ter have on a dress complete. It mought be that
+Peter'll think better er me if I shows him sech a spectful back."
+
+"You not get in Heaven!" exclaimed Kent. "Why, Aunt Mary, there wouldn't
+be any Heaven for all of us bad Brown boys if you weren't there."
+
+"Well, now them is words of comfort what beats the preacher's. I done
+always been b'lievin' in 'fluence an' I mought er knowed my white folks
+would look arfter me on the las' day jes as much as ever. I kin git in
+as Miss Milly's cook if'n th'aint no other way. I been a 'lowing whin I
+gits ter Heaven I wouldn't have ter work no more, but sence I been a
+laid up in the baid so long I gin ter think that work would tas'e right
+sweet. Cookin' in Heaven wouldn't be so hard with plenty of 'gredients
+ter han' and no scrimpin' and scrougin' of 'terials. A lan' flowin' with
+milk an' honey mus' have aigs an' butter. Here you, Sukey Jourdan! Whar
+you hidin'?"
+
+"Here I is, Sis Ma'y, I jes' stepped in the shed room ter men' the fire
+ginst 'twas time ter knock up a bite er dinner fer you."
+
+"Well, while I's a thinkin' of it, I want you to git my bes' linen apron
+outn the chist--the one with the insertioning let in 'bove the hem, an'
+put it in the highboy drawer with my bes' black silk. I low I'll be laid
+out in a apron, 'cause if'n I can't git inter Heaven no other way, I am
+a thinkin' with a clean white apron on I kin slip in as a good cook."
+
+"Dear Aunt Mary, you have been as good as gold all your life," declared
+Mrs. Brown, wiping a tear from her eye, but smiling in spite of herself
+at Aunt Mary's quaint idea of a way to gain an entrance through the
+pearly gates.
+
+Aunt Mary had had many doubts about her being saved and had spent many
+weary nights, terrified at the thought of dying and perhaps not being
+fit for Heaven, but now that she had thought of wearing the apron, all
+doubts of her desirability were set at rest; indeed, her last days were
+filled with peace since she felt now that even Peter could not turn back
+a good cook.
+
+"I must be going, Aunt Mary," said Kent, taking the old woman's withered
+hand in his strong grasp. "I'll be home again in a few weeks, I fancy,
+maybe sooner."
+
+"They's one thing I ain't arsked you yit: whar's that there Judy gal?
+I been a dreamin' you would bring her back with you."
+
+"She is the thing I am going back to France for, Aunt Mary."
+
+"Sho nuf? Well, well! They do tell me they's fightin' goin' on in some
+er them furren parts. Sholy Miss Judy ain't nigh the fightin' an'
+fussin'?"
+
+"Yes, I am afraid she is. That's the reason I must go for her."
+
+"Oh, Kent son! Don't you git into no scrap yo'sef. It's moughty hard
+fer young folks ter look on at a scrap 'thout gittin' mixed up in it.
+Don't you git too clost, whin you is lookin', either. Them what looks
+on sometimes gits the deepes' razor cuts with the back han' licks. You
+pick up that gal an' bring her back ter you' maw jes' as fas' as yo'
+legs kin carry you."
+
+"I'll try to," laughed Kent.
+
+"Don't try! Jes' do it! That there Judy gal is sho nice an'
+'ristocratic, considerin' she ain't never had no home. She done tell
+me whin she was here to little Miss Milly's weddin' that she an' her
+folks ain't never lived in nothin' but rented houses. That's moughty
+queer to me, but 'cose niggers don't understan' ev'y thing. Well, you
+tell her that ole Mary Morton say she better pick up an' come back to
+Chatswuth."
+
+"I certainly will, Aunt Mary, and good-by!"
+
+The old woman put her hand on his bowed head for a moment, and while she
+said nothing, Kent took it for a benediction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+AFTERNOON TEA.
+
+
+Molly had established the custom of afternoon tea in her orchard home,
+and while she had been greatly teased by her brothers for introducing
+this English custom into Kentucky country life, they one and all turned
+up on her porch for tea if they were in the neighborhood.
+
+"It is one place where a fellow can always find some talk and a place to
+air his views," declared John, as he reached for another slice of bread
+and butter. "It isn't the food so much as the being gathered together."
+
+"Well, you are gathering a good deal of food together in spite of your
+contempt for it," put in Paul. "That's the sixth slice! I have kept tab
+on you."
+
+"Why not? I always think plain bread and butter is about the best thing
+there is."
+
+"Yes, why not?" asked Molly, calling her little cook Kizzie to prepare
+another plate of the desirable article. "Aunt Clay, you had better
+change your mind and have some tea and bread and butter."
+
+Mrs. Sarah Clay had driven over in state from her home when she heard
+Kent had arrived. She wanted to hear the latest news, also to tender
+her advice as to what he was to do now. She presented the same
+uncompromising front as of yore, although her back had given way
+somewhat to the weight of years. Judy Kean always said she had a hard
+face and a soft figure. This soft figure she poured into tight basques,
+evidently determined to try to make it live up to her face.
+
+"Tea!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I never eat between meals."
+
+"But this is a meal, in a way," said Molly hospitably bent, as was her
+wont, on feeding people.
+
+"A meal! Whoever heard of tea and bread and butter comprising a meal?"
+and the stern aunt stalked to the end of the porch where the baby lay in
+her basket, kicking her pink heels in the air in an ecstasy of joy over
+being in the world.
+
+"Molly, this baby has on too few clothes. What can you be thinking of,
+having the child barefooted and nothing on but this muslin slip over her
+arms? She is positively blue with cold."
+
+Molly flew to her darling but found her glowing and warm. "Why, Aunt
+Clay, only feel her hands and feet! She is as warm as toast. The doctor
+cautioned me against wrapping her up too much. He says little babies are
+much warmer than we are."
+
+"Well, have your own way! Of course, although I am older than your
+mother, I know nothing at all."
+
+"But, Aunt Clay----"
+
+"Never mind!"
+
+Poor Molly! She could never do or say anything to suit her Aunt Clay.
+She looked regretfully at the old lady's indignant back as she left her
+and joined Kent, who was sitting on a settle with his mother, holding
+her hand, both of them very quiet amidst the chatter around the tea
+table. They made room for their relative, who immediately began her
+catechism of Kent.
+
+"Why did you not come home sooner?"
+
+"Because I had some work to do, sketches illustrating an article on
+French country houses."
+
+"Humph! Did you get paid for them?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Clay!"
+
+"Now, what are your plans?"
+
+"I have landed a job in New York with a firm of architects, that is, I
+had landed it, but I am not so sure now since----"
+
+"Good! You feel that you had better stay at home and look after
+Chatsworth."
+
+"Oh, no! I am sure I could not be much of a farmer."
+
+"Could not because you would not! If I were your mother, I would insist
+on one of you staying at home and running the place."
+
+"Ernest is thinking of coming back, giving up engineering and trying
+intensive farming on Chatsworth."
+
+"Ernest, indeed! And why should he have wasted all these years in some
+other profession if he means to farm?"
+
+"Well, you see," said Kent very patiently because of the pressure he
+felt from his mother's gentle hand, "farming takes money and there
+wasn't any money. Ernest always did want to farm, but it was necessary
+for him to make some money first. Now he has saved and invested and has
+something to put in the land, and he is devoutly hoping to get out more
+than he puts in."
+
+"If putting something in the land means expensive machinery, I can tell
+him now that he will waste money buying it. But there is no use in
+telling Ernest anything--he is exactly like Sue: very quiet, does not
+answer back when his elders and betters address him, but, like Sue, goes
+his own way. Sue is very headstrong and simply twists my husband's
+nephew around her finger. I was very much disappointed in Cyrus Clay. I
+thought he had more backbone."
+
+Sue Brown, now Mrs. Cyrus Clay, had been the one member of the Brown
+family who always got on with the stern Aunt Clay; and Kent and his
+mother were sorry to hear the old lady express any criticism of Sue. It
+seemed that Sue had done nothing more serious than to persuade Cyrus to
+join the Country Club, but it was against Mrs. Sarah Clay's wishes, and
+anything that opposed her was headstrong and consequently wicked.
+
+"But to return to you----" Kent let a sigh escape him as he had hoped he
+had eluded further catechism, "what are you going to do now?"
+
+"Well, to-night I go back to New York, and day after to-morrow I take a
+French steamer for Havre."
+
+"Havre! Are you crazy?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"What are you going to do in France with this war going on?"
+
+"I am not quite sure."
+
+This was too much for the irate old lady, so without making any adieux,
+she took her departure, scorning the polite assistance of her three
+nephews. Professor Green called her coachman and helped her into the
+great carriage she still held to, the kind seen now-a-days only in
+museums.
+
+"Kent, how could you?" laughed Mrs. Brown, in spite of her attempt to
+look shocked.
+
+"I think Kent was right," declared Molly. "How could he tell Aunt Clay
+he was going to France to get Judy? She would never have let up on it.
+I'm glad she has gone, anyhow! We were having a very nice time without
+her."
+
+"Molly!" and Mrs. Brown looked shocked. She always exacted a show of
+respect from her children to this very difficult elder sister Sarah.
+
+"Oh, Mumsy, we have to break loose sometimes!" exclaimed Molly. "The
+idea of her saying Mildred was blue with cold! Criticising poor Sue,
+too! Goodness, I'd hate to be the one that Aunt Clay had taken a shine
+to. I'd almost rather have her despise me as she does."
+
+"Not despise you, Molly,--you don't understand your Aunt Clay."
+
+"Well, perhaps not, but she puts up a mighty good imitation of
+despising. I think it is because I look so like Cousin Sally Bolling
+and she never forgave the present Marquise d'Ochtè for making fun of
+her long years ago. And then to crown it all, Cousin Sally got the
+inheritance from Greataunt Sarah Carmichael and married the Marquis, at
+least she married the Marquis and then got the inheritance. It was too
+much for Aunt Clay."
+
+Mrs. Brown looked so pained that Molly stopped her tirade. Aunt Clay was
+the one person whom Molly could not love. She had a heart as big as all
+out doors but it was not big enough to hold Aunt Clay.
+
+"Here comes Sue! How glad I am! She 'phoned she would be here before so
+very long. What a blessing she missed Aunt Clay! See, she is running the
+car herself and isn't it a beauty? Cyrus just got it for her and Sue
+runs it wonderfully well already. I forgot to write you about it, Kent.
+But best of all! What do you think? Cyrus has had the muddy lane that
+was the cause of Sue's hesitating whether to take him or not all
+drained and macadamized. The approach to Maxton is simply perfect now."
+
+"Good for Cyrus!" said Kent, jumping up to meet his sister, who drove
+her big car through the gate and up the driveway as though she had been
+running an automobile all her life.
+
+"Only think, five Browns together again!" exclaimed Paul, as they seated
+themselves on the porch of the bungalow after duly admiring the new car.
+Molly had Kizzie brew a fresh pot of tea and John was persuaded to eat
+some more thin slices of bread and butter.
+
+"Yes, five of you together again," said Mrs. Brown wistfully. "Ah, me! I
+wish I could get all seven of you at Chatsworth once more. Indeed, I
+wish I had all of you back in the nursery again."
+
+"But where would I come in then?" said Edwin Green whimsically.
+
+"And little Mildred?" from Molly, hugging her infant.
+
+"And Sue's new car, not to mention Cyrus?" teased Kent.
+
+"You are right, children. I should be more of a philosopher.
+
+    "'The Moving Finger writes: and, having writ,
+      Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
+        Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
+      Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.'"
+
+Molly stood over Kent with a cup of steaming tea and taking her cue from
+her mother's quotation from the Rubaiyat and prompted by his knownothing
+attitude with his Aunt Clay, she got off the stanza:
+
+     "Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare;
+      To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair:
+        Drink! for you know not whence you came nor why:
+      Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+LETTERS FROM PARIS AND BERLIN.
+
+
+From Miss Julia Kean to Mrs. Edwin Green.
+
+                               Paris, and no idea of the date.
+                            No fixed address, but the American
+                                          Club might reach me.
+
+Molly darling:
+
+Things are moving so fast that even I can't quite catch on, and you know
+I am some mover myself. Jo and I came to Paris as I wrote you we would,
+but I haven't seen her since. She told me in as polite words as she
+could command that she couldn't be bothered with me any more. At least
+that was the trend of her remarks. She has the business before her of
+making up to look as much like a man as possible and then of being taken
+into the aviation school.
+
+I met an art student from Carlo Rossi's on the street and he told
+me Polly was already the proud driver of an ambulance. Lots of the
+American art students have enlisted or joined the Red Cross. If I liked
+sick folks or nursing, I think I'd join myself. I feel that I should be
+doing something while I wait to hear from Bobby. I hope to see the
+American Ambassador next week. He is simply floored under with duties
+just now. I don't want any help from him, but just to find out something
+about Bobby and Mamma.
+
+If you could see Paris now! Oh, Molly, our gay, beautiful, eternally
+youthful city has grown suddenly sad and middle-aged. There is no gaiety
+or frivolity now. Her step has changed from a dance to a march. Her
+laughter has turned to weeping, but silent weeping--she makes no outcry
+but one knows the tears are there. Her beautiful festive clothes are
+laid away and now there is nothing but khaki and mourning. The gallant
+little soldier is to discard his flaming red trousers and blue coat for
+khaki. The German finds him too easy a mark.
+
+I begin to tremble for Paris, but strange to say I have no fear for
+myself.
+
+I have seen the Ambassador! He was very grave when I told him about
+Bobby. There was some English capital involved in the railroad that
+Bobby was to build in Turkey, and for that reason there may be some
+complication. He is to communicate with Gerard immediately. In the
+meantime, he advises me to go home. I told him I had no home, but would
+wait here until I found out something. He asked me if I had plenty of
+money and I told him yes, indeed, my letter of credit was good for
+almost any amount. I had not had to draw on it as I had stocked up
+before I went to G---- to keep house with the Polly Perkinses. The
+Ambassador actually laughed at me. Do you know, I can't get any more
+money? What a fool I have been! I have been so taken up with Paris and
+the sights and sounds that money has never entered my head. I have quite
+a little left, though, and I intend to live on next to nothing.
+
+The Bents have left for America and have given me their key to use their
+studio as I see fit. Mrs. Bent wanted me to go with them, but I can't
+go until we hear from Gerard. Now I am back in the Rue Brea! It seems
+strange to be there again where we had such a glorious winter. The
+studio where Kent and Pierce Kinsella lived all last year is vacant. I
+don't know where Pierce is. Gone to war, perhaps!
+
+I spend the days on the streets, walking up and down, listening to the
+talk and watching the regiments as they move away. I ran across some old
+friends yesterday. You remember a wedding party I butted in on at St.
+Cloud that day I scared all of you so when I took the wrong train from
+Versailles and landed at Chartres? Well, I ran plump against the bride
+on Montparnasse (only she is no longer a bride but had a rosy infant
+over her shoulder). She came out of a little delicatessen shop and her
+husband in war togs followed her, and there I witnessed their parting. I
+seem fated to be present at every crisis in their lives. The girl did
+not recognize me but the young man did. I had danced with him in too mad
+a whirl for him to forget me. Then came the old father and his wife who
+looked like a member of the Commune. They keep the little shop, it
+seems. I shook hands with them and together we waited for the young
+man's regiment to come swinging down the street. With another embrace
+all around, even me, he caught step with his comrades and was gone. The
+bonnemère clasped her daughter-in-law to her grenadier-like bosom and
+they mingled their tears, the rosy baby gasping for breath between the
+two. The old father turned to me:
+
+"This is different from the last time we met, ma'mselle!"
+
+"Yes, so different!"
+
+"Come in and have a bite and sup with us. There is still something to
+eat in Paris besides horse flesh." His wife and daughter-in-law joined
+him in the invitation and so I went in. I enjoyed the meal more than
+I can tell you. The grenadier is some cook and although the fare was
+simple, it was so well seasoned and appetizing that I ate as I have not
+done since I got back to Paris. The truth of the matter is, I am living
+so cheap for fear of getting out of money and I am afraid I have been
+neglecting my inner man. I can't cook a thing myself, which is certainly
+trifling of me, and so have depended on restaurants for sustenance. I
+dressed the salad (you remember it is my one accomplishment) and it met
+with the approval of host and hostess.
+
+I told them of my trouble and how I felt I must wait until I heard
+something definite of my mother and father, and they were all sympathy.
+I have promised to come to them if I get into difficulty, and you don't
+know the comfortable feeling I have now that I have some adopted folks.
+
+I might go to the Marquise d'Ochtè, but I know she has all on her hands
+and mind that she can attend to. I don't need anything but just
+companionship. I am such a gregarious animal that I must have folks.
+
+I am dying to hear from you and to know if Kent landed his job. Is
+he--well, angry with me for staying over? I would not have missed
+staying for anything, even if he should be put out. I can't believe he
+is, though. I had rather hoped for letters when the American mail came
+in this morning, but the man at the bank was very unfeeling and had
+nothing. Nobody seems to be getting any mail. I wonder if they are
+stopping it for some reason or other. I have a great mind to take this
+to some American who is fleeing and have it mailed in New York. I will
+do that very thing. Good by, Molly--don't be uneasy about me. You know
+my catlike nature of lighting on my feet.
+
+                                                 Your own,
+                                                         Judy.
+
+
+From Mr. Robert Kean to his Daughter Julia.
+
+                                                       Berlin.
+
+My dear Judy:
+
+I know you are intensely uneasy about us, but down in your heart you
+also know that we never get into scrapes we can't get out of, and we
+will get out of this. This letter will probably be postmarked Sweden
+but that does not mean I am there. In fact, I am in durance vile here
+in Berlin. I am allowed to walk around the streets and to pay my own
+living expenses but leave Berlin I cannot. Your mother can't leave,
+either--not that she would. You know how she thinks that she protects me
+and so she insists that she will stay. I am allowed to write no letters
+and can receive none. I am getting this off to you by a clever device of
+your mother's, which I shall not divulge now for fear it might be seized
+and thus get an innocent person in bad with this remarkable Government.
+
+I am kept here all because I know too much about the geography and
+topography of Turkey. Of course I have made careful maps of the proposed
+railroad from Constantinople, the one we have been trying to get the
+concessions for. Well, they have naturally seized the maps. But before I
+dreamed of the possibility of this war, for, like all of us fool Anglo
+Saxons, I have been nosing along like a mole, I had a talk with a high
+Prussian Muckamuck at dinner one evening about this proposed road and I
+drew the blame thing on the table cloth, and with bits of bread and salt
+cellars and what not I explained the whole topography of the country and
+the benefit it would be to mankind to have this particular railroad
+built, financed by my particular company. That was where I "broke my
+'lasses pitcher." Of course, having surveyed the country and made the
+maps, at least, having had a finger in the pie from the beginning, I can
+reproduce those maps from memory, if not very accurately, at least,
+accurately enough to get the Germans going if that particular
+information should be needed by the Allies.
+
+Do you know what I see in this? Why, Turkey will be in this war before
+so very long.
+
+I am hungry for news. I feel that I will go mad if I can't get some
+information besides what is printed in these boot licking newspapers
+of Berlin. They speak of their soldiers as though they were avenging
+angels--avenging what? Avenging the insult Belgium offered them for
+not lying down and making a road of herself for them to walk over.
+Avenging France for not opening wide her gates and getting ready the
+Christmas dinner the Kaiser meant to eat in Paris. I'd like to prepare
+his Christmas dinner, and surely I would serve a hors-d'oeuvre of
+rough-on-rats, an entrée of ptomaines, and finish off with a dessert
+of hanging, which would be too sweet for him. Now just suppose this
+letter is seized and they see this above remark--what then? I must not
+be allowed to write my opinion of their ruler to my own daughter, but
+these Prussians who go to United States and get all they can from our
+country, feel at perfect liberty to publish newspapers vilifying our
+President and to burst into print at any moment about our men who are
+high in authority.
+
+Berlin is wild with enthusiasm and joy over her victories. Every Belgian
+village that is razed to the ground makes them think it is cause for a
+torch-light procession. I can't understand them. They can hardly be the
+same kindly folk we have so often stayed among. They are still kind,
+kind to each other and kind in a way to us and to all the strangers
+within their gates, but how they can rejoice over the reports of their
+victories I cannot see.
+
+They one and all believe that they were forced to fight. They say
+France was marching to Berlin for the President to eat Christmas dinner
+here, and that Belgium had promised they should go straight through her
+gates unmolested and did not regard the agreement of neutrality. I say
+nonsense to such statements. At least I think nonsense. I really say
+very little for one who has so much to say. I am bubbling over to talk
+politics with some one. Your poor little mumsy listens to me but she
+never jaws back. I want some one to jaw back. I have promised her to
+keep off the subject with these Prussians. They are so violent and so
+on the lookout for treason. There is one thing I am sure of and that is
+that no Frenchman would want to eat Christmas dinner or any other kind
+of dinner here if he could eat it in Paris. I am sick of raw goose and
+blood pudding and Limburger cheese.
+
+As I write this tirade, I am wondering, my dear daughter, where you are.
+Did you go back to America with Kent Brown, who, you wrote me in your
+last letter, was sailing in a week, or are you in Paris? I hope not
+there! Since I see the transports of joy these law-abiding, home-loving
+citizens, women and men, can get in over an account of what seems to me
+mere massacre, I tremble to think what the soldiers are capable of in
+the lust of bloodshed.
+
+From the last bulletin, the Germans are certainly coming closer and
+closer to Paris. I hope they are lying in their report. They are capable
+of falsifying anything.
+
+I am trying to get hold of our Ambassador to get me out of this mess,
+but he is so busy it is hard to see him. I think he is doing excellent
+work and I feel it is best for me to wait and let the Americans who are
+in more urgent need get first aid. I have enough money to tide us over
+for a few weeks with very careful expenditure. Of course I can get no
+more, just like all the rest of, the Americans who are stranded here.
+
+I feel terribly restless for work. I don't know how to loaf, never
+did. I'd go to work here at something, but I feel if I did, it would
+just mean that these Prussians could then spare one more man for
+their butchery, and I will at least not help them that much. Your
+mother and I are on the street a great deal. We walk up and down and
+go in and out of shops and sit in the parks. I keep moving as much as
+possible, not only because I am so restless but because I like to keep
+the stupid spy who is set to watch over me as busy as possible. He has
+some weird notion that I do not know he is ever near me. I keep up the
+farce and I give him many anxious moments. Yesterday I wrote limericks
+and nonsense verses on letter paper and made little boats of them and
+sent them sailing on the lake in the park. If you could have seen this
+man's excitement. He called in an accomplice and they fished out the
+boats and carefully concealing them, they got hold of a third spy to
+take them to the chief. I wonder what they made of:
+
+    "The Window has Four little Panes:
+        But One have I.
+      The Window Panes are in its Sash,--
+        I wonder why!"
+
+or this:
+
+     "I wish that my Room had a Floor--
+      I don't so much care for a Door,
+          But this walking around
+          Without touching the ground
+      Is getting to be quite a bore!"
+
+I only wish I could see the translations of these foolish rhymes that
+must have been made before they could decide whether or not I had a bomb
+up my sleeve to put the Kaiser out with. Fancy this in German:
+
+     "The poor benighted Hindoo,
+      He does the best he kindo;
+            He sticks to caste
+            From first to last;
+      For pants he makes his skindo."
+
+Some of the ships sank and they had to get a boat hook and raise them.
+My nonsense seems to have had its effect. I saw in this morning's paper
+that some of the foreigners held in Berlin have gone crazy. I believe
+they mean me. I must think up some more foolishness. I feel that the
+more I occupy this spy who has me in charge, the better it is for the
+Allies. I try to be neutral but my stomach is rebelling at German food,
+and who can be neutral with a prejudiced stomach?
+
+We are trying to cook in our room. You know what a wonder your little
+mumsy is at knocking up an omelette and making coffee and what not, and
+we also find it is much more economical to eat there all we can. When we
+are there, we are out of sight of the spy, who, of course, can't help
+his job, but neither can I help wanting to kick his broad bean. He is
+such a block-head. He reminds me of the Mechanician Man, in our comic
+papers: "Brains he has nix." He is evidently doing just exactly what he
+has been wound up and set to do. I can't quite see why I should be such
+an important person that I should need a whole spy to myself. I can't
+get out of Berlin unless I fly out and I see no chance of that.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+I have had my interview with the Ambassador. He sent for me, and the
+wonderful thing was that it was because of the ball you had set rolling
+in Paris. When one Ambassador gets in communication with another
+Ambassador, even when it is about as unimportant a thing as I am, there
+is something doing immediately. You must have made a hit, honey, with
+the powers in France, they got busy so fast. It seems that the Imperial
+Government is very leary about me. My being an American is the only
+thing that keeps me out of prison. They are kind of scared to put me
+there, but they won't let me go. I had to wait an hour even after I got
+sent for, and I enjoyed it thoroughly because it was raining hard and
+blowing like blazes and I knew that my bodyguard was having to take it.
+Indeed I could see him all the time across the strasse looking anxiously
+at the door where he had seen me disappear. I also had the delight of
+reading a two weeks old American newspaper that a very nice young clerk
+slipped to me. I suppose the American Legation gets its newspaper, war
+or no.
+
+Nothing can be done for me as yet. I have been very imprudent in my
+behaviour, reprehensible, in fact. The paper boats were most ill
+advised, especially the one that goes: "My Window has Four little
+Panes." That is something to do with maps and a signal, it seems. "The
+Window Panes are in its Sash," is most suggestive of information. Ah,
+well! They can't do more than just keep us here, and if our money gives
+out, it will be up to them to feed us. The time may come when I will be
+glad to get even blood pudding, but I can't think it.
+
+Your poor little mumsy, in spite of the years she has spent with me
+roughing it, still has a dainty appetite, and I believe she would as
+soon eat a live rat, as blood pudding or raw goose. She makes out with
+eggs and salad and coffee and toast. So far, provisions are plentiful.
+It is only our small purse that makes us go easy on everything. But if
+the war goes on (which, God willing, it will do, as a short war will
+mean the Germans are victorious), I can't see how provisions will remain
+plentiful. What is England doing, anyhow? She must be doing something,
+but she is doing it very slowly.
+
+Your being in Paris is a source of much uneasiness to us, but I can't
+say that I blame you. You are too much like me to want to get out of
+excitement. I feel sure you will take care of yourself and now that the
+French are waltzing in at such a rate, I have no idea that the Germans
+will ever reach Paris. After all, this letter is to be taken by a lady
+who is at the American Legation and mailed to Mrs. Edwin Green and
+through her sent to you. They could not get it directly to you in
+France, but no doubt it will finally reach you through your friend,
+Molly. I am trusting her to do it and I know she will do it if any one
+can, because she is certainly to be depended on to get her friends out
+of trouble. In the meantime, the Ambassador here is to communicate
+formally with the Ambassador in Paris, and he is to let you know that
+all is well with your innocent if imprudent parents. Of course, your
+mother could go home if she would, but you know her well enough to know
+she won't. In fact, there is some talk of making her go home, and she
+says if they start any such thing she is going to swear she can draw
+any map of Turkey that ever was known to man, and can do it with her
+eyes shut and her hands tied behind her.
+
+We both of us wish you were safe in Kentucky with your friends. We spend
+many nights talking of you and reproaching ourselves that we have left
+you so much to yourself. I don't see how we could help it in a way, but
+maybe I should have given up engineering and taken up preaching or been
+a tailor or something. Then I might have made a settled habitation for
+all of us. Your mumsy is writing you a long letter, too, so I must stop.
+She is quite disappointed not to use her clever scheme for getting the
+letter to you, and rather resents the lady at the Legation.
+
+                                                  Yours,
+                                                        BOBBY.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+AT THE TRICOTS'.
+
+
+It took one month and three days for Judy to get the above letter,
+but her mind was set somewhat at rest long before that time by the
+Ambassador himself, who had learned through his confrère in Berlin that
+Mr. and Mrs. Kean were safe and at large, although not allowed to leave
+Berlin.
+
+The daughter was so accustomed to her parents being in dangerous places
+that she did not feel so concerned about them as an ordinary girl would
+have felt for ordinary parents. Ever since she could remember, they had
+been camping in out-of-the-way places and making hair-breadth escapes
+from mountain wild cats and native uprisings and what not. She could not
+believe the Germans, whom she had always thought of as rather bovine,
+could turn into raging lions so completely.
+
+"Bobby will light on his feet!" she kept saying to herself until it
+became almost like a prayer. "No one could hurt Mamma. She will be
+protected just as children will be!" And then came terrible, exaggerated
+accounts of the murder in cold blood of little children, and then the
+grim truth of the destruction of Louvain and Rheims, and anything seemed
+possible.
+
+"A nation that could glory in the destruction of such beautiful things
+as these cathedrals will stop at nothing." But still she kept on saying:
+"Bobby will light on his feet! Bobby will light on his feet!" She no
+longer trusted the Germans, but she had infinite faith in the sagacity
+and cleverness of her father. He always had got himself out of difficult
+and tight places and he always would.
+
+In the meantime, money was getting very low. Try as she would to
+economize, excitement made her hungry and she must eat and eat three
+times a day.
+
+"If I only had Molly Brown's skill and could cook for myself!" she would
+groan as she tried to choke down the muddy concoction that she had just
+succeeded in brewing and was endeavoring to persuade herself tasted a
+little like coffee. She remembered with swimming eyes the beautiful
+little repasts they had had in the Bents' studio during that memorable
+winter.
+
+"Judy Kean, you big boob! I believe my soul you are going to bawl about
+a small matter of food. If the destruction of Louvain did not make you
+weep, surely muddy coffee ought not to bring tears to your eyes, unless
+maybe they are tears of shame."
+
+The truth of the matter was, Judy was lonesome and idle. She could not
+make up her mind to paint. Things were moving too fast and there was too
+much reality in the air. Art seemed unreal and unnecessary, somehow.
+"Great things will be painted after the war but not now," she would say.
+She carried her camera with her wherever she went and snapped up groups
+of women and children, soldiers kissing their old fathers, great ladies
+stopping to converse with the gamin of the street; anything and
+everything went into her camera. She spent more money on films than on
+food, in spite of her healthy hunger.
+
+On that morning in September as she cleared away the scraps from her
+meager breakfast, her eyes swimming from lonesomeness, appetite
+unappeased and a kind of nameless longing, she almost determined to
+throw herself on the mercy of the American Legation for funds to return
+to New York. The Americans had cleared out of Paris until there were
+very few left. Judy would occasionally see the familiar face of some art
+student she had known in the class, but those familiar faces grew less
+and less frequent.
+
+"There's the Marquise! I can always go to her, but I know she is taken
+up with her grief over Philippe's going a soldiering," she thought as
+she put her plate and cup back on the shelf where the Bents kept their
+assortment of china.
+
+A knock at the door! Who could it be? No mail came to her and no
+friends were left to come.
+
+"Mam'selle!" and bowing low before her was the lean old partner of St.
+Cloud, Père Tricot. "Mam'selle, my good wife and I, as well as our poor
+little daughter-in-law, we all want you to come and make one of our
+humble menage."
+
+"Want me!" exclaimed Judy, her eyes shining.
+
+"Yes, Mam'selle," he said simply. "We have talked it over and we think
+you are too young to be so much alone and then if--the--the--well, I
+have too much respect for Mam'selle to call their name,--if they do get
+in Paris, I can protect you with my own women. I am not so old that I
+cannot hit many a lick yet--indeed, I would enlist again if they would
+have me; but my good wife says they may need me more here in Paris and I
+must rest tranquilly here and do the work for France that I can best do.
+Will you come, Mam'selle?"
+
+"Come! Oh, Père Tricot, I'll be too glad to come. When?"
+
+"Immediately!"
+
+Judy's valise was soon packed and the studio carefully locked, the key
+handed over to the concierge, and she was arm in arm with her old
+friend on her way to her new home in the little shop on the Boulevarde
+Montparnasse.
+
+Mère Tricot, who looked like a member of the Commune but acted like a
+dear, kindly old Granny, took the girl to her bosom.
+
+"What did I tell you? I knew she would come," she cried to her husband,
+who had hurried into the shop to wait on a customer. It was a
+delicatessen shop and very appetizing did the food look to poor Judy,
+who felt as though she had never eaten in her life.
+
+"Tell me!" he exclaimed as he weighed out cooked spinach to a small
+child who wanted two sous' worth. "Tell me, indeed! You said Mam'selle
+would not walk on the street with an old peasant in a faded blouse if
+she would come at all, and I--I said Mam'selle was what the Americans
+call a good sport and would walk on the street with an old peasant, if
+she liked him, in any kind of clothes he happened to be in, rags even.
+Bah! You were wrong and I was right."
+
+The old Tricots were forever wrangling but it was always in a
+semi-humorous manner, and their great devotion to each other was always
+apparent. Judy found it was better never to take sides with either one
+as the moment she did both of them were against her.
+
+How homelike the little apartment was behind the shops! It consisted of
+two bed rooms, a living room which opened into the shop and a tiny tiled
+kitchen about the size of a kitchen on a dining car--so tiny that it
+seemed a miracle that all the food displayed so appetizingly in the
+windows and glass cases of the shop should have been prepared there.
+
+"It is so good of you to have me and I want to come more than I can say,
+but you must let me board with you. I couldn't stay unless you do."
+
+"That is as you choose, Mam'selle," said the old woman. "We do not want
+to make money on you, but you can pay for your keep if you want to."
+
+"All right, Mother, but I must help some, help in the shop or mind the
+baby, clean up the apartment, anything! I can't cook a little bit, but I
+can do other things."
+
+"No woman can cook," asserted old Tricot. "They lack the touch."
+
+"Ah! Braggart! If I lay thee out with this pastry board, I'll not lack
+the touch," laughed the wife. She was making wonderful little tarts with
+crimped edges to be filled with assortments of confiture.
+
+"Let me mind the shop, then. I know I can do that."
+
+"Well, that will not be bad," agreed old Tricot. "While Marie (the
+daughter-in-law) washes the linen and you make the tarts, Mam'selle can
+keep the shop, but no board must she pay. I'll be bound new customers
+will flock to us to buy of the pretty face." Judy blushed with pleasure
+at the old peasant's compliment.
+
+"And thou, laggard and sloth! What will thou do while the women slave?"
+
+"I--Oh, I will go to the Tabac's to see what news there is, and later
+to see if Jean is to the front."
+
+"Well, we cannot hear from Jean to-day and Paris can still stand without
+thy political opinion," but she laughed and shoved him from the shop, a
+very tender expression on her lined old face.
+
+"These men! They think themselves of much importance," she said as she
+resumed her pastry making.
+
+Having tied a great linen apron around Judy's slender waist (much
+slenderer in the last month from her economical living), and having
+instructed her in the prices of the cooked food displayed in the show
+cases, Mère Tricot turned over the shop to her care. The rosy baby was
+lying in a wooden cradle in the back of the little shop and the
+grandmother was in plain view in the tiny kitchen to be seen beyond the
+living room.
+
+"Well, I fancy I am almost domesticated," thought Judy. "What an
+interior this would make--baby in foreground and old Mother Tricot on
+through with her rolling pin. Light fine! I've a great mind to paint
+while I am keeping shop, sketch, anyhow."
+
+She whipped out her sketch book and sketched in her motive with sure and
+clever strokes, but art is long and shops must be kept. Customers began
+to pile in. The spinach was very popular and Judy became quite an adept
+in dishing it out and weighing it. Potato salad was next in demand and
+cooked tongue and rosbif disappeared rapidly. Many soldiers lounged in,
+eating their sandwiches in the shop. Judy enjoyed her morning greatly
+but she could not remember ever in her life having worked harder.
+
+When the tarts were finished and displayed temptingly in the window,
+swarms of children arrived. It seemed that Mère Tricot's tarts were
+famous in the Quarter. More soldiers came, too. Among them was a face
+strangely familiar to the amateur shop girl. Who could it be? It was the
+face of a typical Boulevardier: dissipated, ogling eyes; black moustache
+and beard waxed until they looked like sharp spikes; a face not homely
+but rather handsome, except for its expression of infinite conceit and
+impertinence.
+
+"I have never seen him before, I fancy. It is just the type that is
+familiar to me," she thought. "_Mais quel type!_"
+
+Judy was looking very pretty, with her cheeks flushed from the
+excitement of weighing out spinach and salad, making change where sous
+were thought of as though they were gold and following the patois of the
+peasants that came to buy and the argot of the gamin. She had donned a
+white cap of Marie's which was most becoming. Judy, always ready to act
+a part, with an instinctive dramatic spirit had entered into the rôle of
+shop keeper with a vim that bade fair to make the Tricots' the most
+popular place on Boulevarde Montparnasse. Her French had fortunately
+improved greatly since her arrival in Paris more than two years before
+and now she flattered herself that one could not tell she was not
+Parisienne.
+
+The soldier with the ogling eyes and waxed moustache lingered in the
+shop when his companions had made their purchases and departed. He
+insisted upon knowing the price of every ware displayed. He asked her to
+name the various confitures in the tarts, which she did rather wearily
+as his persistence was most annoying. She went through the test,
+however, with as good a grace as possible. Shop girls must not be
+squeamish, she realized.
+
+One particularly inviting gooseberry tart was left on the tray. Judy had
+had her eye on it from the first and trembled every time a purchaser
+came for tarts. She meant to ask Mère Tricot for it, if only no one
+bought it. And now this particularly objectionable customer with his
+rolling black eyes and waxed moustache was asking her what kind it was!
+Why did he not buy what he wanted and leave?
+
+"_Eh? Qu'est-ce que c'est?_" he demanded with an amused leer as he
+pointed a much manicured forefinger at that particularly desirable tart.
+
+Judy was tired and the French for gooseberry left her as is the way with
+an acquired language. Instead of _groseille_ which was the word she
+wanted, she blurted out in plain English:
+
+"Gooseberry jam!"
+
+"Ah, I have bean pensè so mooch. You may spick ze Eengleesh with me,
+Mees. Gueseberry jaam! Ha, ha! An' now, Mees, there iss wan question I
+should lak a demandè of the so beootifool demoiselle: what iss the prize
+of wan leetle kees made in a so lufly tart?" He leaned over the counter,
+his eyes rolling in a fine frenzy.
+
+Where was Mère Tricot now? What a fine time to brandish her pastry
+board! Gone to the innermost recesses of the apartment with the rosy
+baby! Suddenly Judy remembered exactly where she had seen that silly
+face before.
+
+"At Versailles, the day I got on the wrong train!" flashed through her
+mind. She remembered well the hateful creature who had sat on the bench
+by her and insulted her with his attentions. She remembered how she had
+jumped up from the bench and hurried off, forgetting her package of
+gingerbread, bought at St. Cloud, and how the would-be masher had run
+after her with it, saying in his insinuating manner: "You have forgot
+your _gouter, cherie_. Do you like puddeen very much, my dear?"
+
+It was certainly the same man. His soldier's uniform made him somewhat
+less of a dandy than his patent leather boots and lemon coloured gloves
+had done on that occasion, but the dude was there in spite of the change
+of clothes. On that day at Versailles she had seized the gingerbread and
+jammed it in her mouth, thereby disgusting the fastidious Frenchman. She
+had often told the story and her amused hearers had always declared that
+her presence of mind was much to be commended.
+
+The soldier leaned farther and farther over the counter still demanding:
+"A leetle kees made in so lufly a tart."
+
+Ha! An inspiration! Judy grasped the desired gooseberry tart and thrust
+the whole thing into her mouth. There was no time to ask the leave of
+Mère Tricot.
+
+"_Ah quelle betise!_" exclaimed the dandy, and at the same moment he,
+too, remembered the young English demoiselle at Versailles. He
+straightened up and into his ogling eyes came a spark of shame. With a
+smile that changed his whole countenance he saluted Judy.
+
+"Pardon, Mademoiselle!"
+
+Judy's mouth was too full to attempt French but she managed to say in
+her mother tongue:
+
+"Why do you come in a respectable place like this and behave just like
+a Prussian?"
+
+"Prussian! Ah, Mademoiselle, excuse, excuse. I--the beauty of the
+_boutiquier_ made me forget _la Patrie_. I have been a roué, a fool. I
+am henceforth a Frenchman. Mademoiselle iss wan noble ladee. She efen
+mar her so great beauty to protec her dignitee. I remember ze _pain
+d'epice_ at Versailles and _la grande bouchée_. Mademoiselle has _le bel
+esprit_, what you call Mericanhumor. _Au revoir, Mademoiselle_," and
+with a very humble bow he departed, without buying anything at all.
+
+The Tricots laughed very heartily when Judy told them her experience.
+
+"I see you can take care of yourself," said Père Tricot with a nod of
+approval. "If the Prussians come, they had better look out."
+
+"Do you forgive me for eating the last gooseberry tart?" she asked of
+Mère Tricot. "I was very glad of the excuse to get it before some one
+bought it from under my very nose."
+
+Mother Tricot not only forgave her but produced another one for her that
+she had kept back for the guest she seemed to delight to honour.
+
+"Our _boutiquier_ has sold out the shop," declared the old man. "I shall
+have to go to market very early in the morning to get more provisions
+cooked."
+
+"Ah, another excuse for absenting thyself!"
+
+"Oh, please, may I go with you?" begged Judy.
+
+"It will mean very early rising, but I shall be so pleased," said the
+delighted old man, and his wife smiled approval.
+
+It was arranged that Judy was to sleep on a couch in the living room.
+This suited her exactly, as she was able after the family had retired to
+rise stealthily and open a window. The French peasant and even the
+middle class Parisian is as afraid of air in a bedroom as we would be
+of a rattlesnake. They sleep as a rule in hermetically sealed chambers
+and there is a superstition even among the enlightened of that city that
+night air will give one some peculiar affection of the eyes. How they
+keep as healthy as they do is a wonder to those brought up on fresh air.
+Judy had feared that her sleeping would have to be done in the great bed
+with Marie and the baby and welcomed the proposition of the couch in the
+living room with joy. There was a smell of delicatessen wares but it was
+not unpleasing to one who had been economizing in food for so many days.
+
+"I'd rather smell spinach than American Beauties," she said to herself,
+"and potato salad beats potpourri."
+
+Her couch was clean and the sheets smelled of lavender. Marie, the
+little daughter-in-law, had been a _blanchisseuse de fin_ before she
+became the bride of Jean Tricot. She still plied her trade on the family
+linen and everything she touched was snow white and beautifully ironed.
+The clothes were carried by her to the public laundry; there she washed
+them and then brought them home to iron.
+
+As Judy lay on the soft, clean couch, sniffing the mingled smells of
+shop and kitchen and fresh sheets, she thanked her stars that she was
+not alone in the Bents' studio, wondering what she was to do about
+breakfast and a little nervous at every sound heard during the night.
+
+Even the bravest feels a little squeamish when absolutely alone through
+the long night. Judy was brave, her father's own daughter, but those
+nights alone in the studio in Rue Brea had got on her nerves. It was
+just so much harder because of the gay, jolly winter spent in the place.
+
+     "I feel like one who treads alone
+      Some banquet hall, deserted,"
+
+expressed her sentiments exactly. Once she dreamed that Molly Brown was
+standing over her with a cup of hot coffee, which was one of Molly's
+ways. She was always spoiling people and often would appear at the
+bed side with matutinal coffee. The dream came after a particularly
+lonesome evening. She thought that as Molly stood over her, her hand
+shook and some of the coffee splashed on her face. She awoke with a
+start to find her face wet with hot tears.
+
+Here at the Tricots, life was quite different. Mère and Père Tricot were
+playing a happy duet through the night with comfortable snores. Marie
+could be heard cooing to her baby as she nursed it and the baby making
+inarticulate gurgles of joy at being nourished. The feeling of having
+human beings near by was most soothing. Judy did not mind the snores,
+but rejoiced in them. Even when the baby cried, as it did once in the
+night, she smiled happily.
+
+"I am one of a family!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A MOTHER'S FAITH.
+
+
+"Edwin, Kent has been gone over two weeks now and not one word from
+him," announced Molly when Mr. Bud Woodsmall had come and gone, leaving
+no mail of any great importance. "I can see Mother is very uneasy,
+although she doesn't say a word."
+
+"What was the name of his steamer?" asked the professor as he opened his
+newspaper. "I wouldn't worry. Mail is pretty slow and it would take a
+very fast boat to land him at Havre and have a letter back this soon."
+
+Edwin spoke a little absent-mindedly for the Greens were very busy
+getting ready for their yearly move to Wellington College and time for
+newspaper reading was at a premium.
+
+"But he was to cable."
+
+"Oh! And what was the name of the steamer?"
+
+"_L'Hirondelle de Mer_, swallow of the sea. I fancy it must mean flying
+fish. Paul says it is a small merchantman, carrying a few passengers."
+
+"_L'Hirondelle de Mer?_" Edwin's voice sounded so faint that Molly
+stopped packing books and looked up, startled.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"It may be a mistake," he faltered.
+
+Molly jumped up from the box of books and read over her husband's
+shoulder the terrible headlines announcing the sinking of the small
+merchantman _L'Hirondelle de Mer_ by a German submarine. No warning
+was given and it was not known how many of the crew or passengers had
+escaped. The news was got from a boat-load of half-drowned seamen picked
+up by an English fishing smack. The cargo was composed of pork and beef.
+
+Molly read as long as her filling eyes would permit, and then she sank
+on her knees by her husband's chair and gave way to the grief that
+overcame her.
+
+"Oh, Molly darling! It may be all right. Kent is not the kind to get
+lost if there is any way out of it."
+
+"But he would be saving others and forget himself."
+
+"Yes, but see--or let me see for you--it says no women or children on
+board."
+
+"Thank God for that!--And now I must go to Mother."
+
+"Yes, and I will go with you--but we must go with the idea of making
+your mother feel it is all right--that Kent is saved."
+
+"Yes--and I truly believe he is! I couldn't have been as happy for the
+last few days as I have been if--if--Kent----" She could say no more.
+
+Edwin held her for a moment in his arms and then called to Kizzie to
+look after little Mildred, who lay peacefully sleeping in her basket,
+blissfully ignorant of the trouble in the atmosphere.
+
+"Look! There's Mother coming through the garden! She knows! I can tell
+by the way she holds her head."
+
+"My children! You were coming to me. You know, then?"
+
+"Yes, Mother! But Edwin and I think Kent is too strong and active
+to--to----"
+
+"I know he is safe," declared the intrepid mother. "I am as sure of it
+as though he were here in the garden of Chatsworth standing by me. One
+of my children could not have passed away without my being conscious of
+it." She spoke in an even, clear tone and her countenance was as one
+inspired.
+
+"Oh, Mother! That is what I felt, too. I could not have been so--so
+happy if anything awful had happened to Kent."
+
+Edwin Green was very thankful that the women in his family could take
+this view of the matter, but not feeling himself to be gifted with
+second sight, he determined to find out for sure as soon as possible
+what had become of his favorite brother-in-law. He accordingly
+telegraphed a night letter to Jimmy Lufton in New York to get busy as
+quickly as possible, sparing no expense, and find out if the Americans
+on board the vessel were saved.
+
+No doubt my readers will remember that Jimmy Lufton was the young
+newspaper man whom Edwin Green had feared as a rival, and now that he
+had won the prize himself, his feeling for that young man was one of
+kindliness and pity.
+
+Answer came: a stray sailor had reported that he had seen the submarine
+take on board two of the passengers who were battling with the heavy
+sea. Whether Kent was one of them, he could not tell.
+
+There were days of anxious waiting. Molly and Edwin went on with the
+preparations for their flitting, but could not leave Mrs. Brown until
+she had assurance of the safety of her beloved son. That lady continued
+in the belief that all was well with him, in spite of no news.
+
+Aunt Clay came over to Chatsworth to remonstrate with her younger sister
+over what she called her obstinacy.
+
+"Why should you persist in the assertion that you would know if anything
+had happened to your son? We all know that things happen all the time
+and persons near to them go on in ignorance of the accidents. For my
+part, I think it is indecent for you and your daughters to be flaunting
+colours as you are. You should order your mourning and have services for
+those lost at sea."
+
+As Mrs. Brown's flaunting of colors consisted of one lavender scarf that
+Nance Oldham had knitted for her, this was, to say the least,
+unnecessary of Sister Clay.
+
+Molly, who was present when the above unfeeling remarks were made,
+trembled with rage and wept with misery; but not so Mrs. Brown.
+
+"I don't agree with you," she said with a calmness that astonished her
+daughter.
+
+"Well, if Kent is alive, why does he not communicate with you? He is
+certainly careless of you to leave you in ignorance for all of this
+time."
+
+Molly noticed with a kind of fierce joy that her mother's head was now
+held very high and her sensitive nostrils were a-quiver. "Her nose was
+a-wuckin'," as Aunt Mary put it.
+
+"Careless of _me_! Kent! Sister Sarah, you are simply speaking with
+neither sense nor feeling. It has been your own fault that you have not
+obtained the love and affection of my children and so you wish to
+insinuate that they are careless of me. My son will let me know where he
+is as soon as he can. I already know he is alive and safe. You ask me
+how I know it! I can only say I know it." This was said with so much
+fire that Aunt Clay actually seemed to shrink up. She bullied Mrs. Brown
+up to a certain point, but when that point reached criticism of one of
+her children, woe betide Aunt Clay.
+
+Molly, whose certainty of Kent's being alive was beginning to grow weak
+and dim with the weary days, felt new strength from her mother's brave
+words. Edwin Green was forced to leave for the opening of Wellington,
+but Molly closed the bungalow and brought little Mildred over to
+Chatsworth, there to wait with her mother for some definite news.
+
+Old Aunt Mary was a great comfort to them. She shared in their belief
+that their dear boy was alive.
+
+"Cose nothin' ain't happened ter that there Kent. Didn't he tell me he
+was a goin' ter Parus ter bring home that Judy gal? The Dutch ain't a
+goin' ter do nothin' ter a kind faceded pusson like our Kent. As fer
+drowndin'! Shoo! I done hear Lewis say that Kent kin outswim de whole er
+Jeff'son County. He kin swim to Indiany an' back thout ever touchin'
+lan', right over yander by the water wucks whar the riber is mo'n a
+mile. An' waves! Why, Lewis say whin the big stern wheelers is a jes'
+churnin' up the riber till it looks like the yawnin' er grabes at
+Jedgement Day that Kent would jes' laff at them an' plunge right through
+jes' lak a feesh. An' I do hear tell that the waters er the mighty deep
+is salty an' that makes me know that Kent ain't goin' ter sink. Don't we
+tes' the brine fer pickles wif a aig? An' don't the aig float? An' if'n
+the mighty deep is called the briny deep don't that mean it kin float a
+aig? What kin float a aig kin float a young man what already knows how
+ter swim crost an' back on the 'Hier Riber."
+
+Julia Kean's second letter came, also the one from her father in Molly's
+care. Molly immediately sent it to the American Club in Paris. Judy's
+letter certainly had nothing in it to reassure them as to her safety,
+except the meeting with the old man with whom she had danced at St.
+Cloud.
+
+"It means that Judy is able to make friends wherever she goes, and as
+she says, she can always light on her feet, somehow," sighed Molly. She
+did not add what was in her mind: "If she had only come home with Kent!"
+
+"Mother, I must write to Judy now that I have some kind of address. Must
+I tell her?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, tell her all we know, but tell her of our conviction that
+all is well. I will write to her myself, on second thought."
+
+John and Paul both spent every night at Chatsworth now, although it
+meant very early rising for both of them and often a midnight arrival
+or departure for Dr. John, whose practice was growing but seemed to
+be restricted to persons who persisted in being taken very ill in the
+night.
+
+"It is because so many of them are charity patients or semi-charity and
+they always want to get all they can," he would declare. "Of course, a
+doctor's night rates are higher than day rates, and when they are
+getting something for nothing, if they call me up at two a. m. they are
+getting more for nothing than they would be if they had their toe aches
+in the day time."
+
+Ten days had passed since the half-drowned sailors had been picked up by
+the English fishing smack, and still no message from Kent.
+
+Mrs. Brown wrote and dispatched her letter to Judy Kean. It was a hard
+letter to write, much harder than it would have been had there been an
+engagement between the two. The good lady felt that Judy was almost like
+a daughter and still it required something more than existed to address
+her as one. She must convey to Judy the news that Kent was shipwrecked,
+and still she wanted to put in the girl's heart the faith she had in his
+safety.
+
+"Poor Judy! If she is alone in Paris, think what it will mean for this
+news to reach her!" Molly agonized to herself. "She may and may not care
+for Kent enough to marry him, but she certainly is devoted to him as a
+friend. She will feel it just so much more keenly because he was on his
+way to her."
+
+Molly could not sleep in her great anxiety, and her faith and the
+certainty of Kent's safety left her. "I must keep up for Mildred's
+sake," she would cry as she tried to choke down food. Her every endeavor
+was to hide this loss of faith from her mother, whose belief in her
+son's being alive and well never seemed to falter.
+
+Daily letters from Edwin were Molly's one comfort. He was back in the
+grind of lectures at Wellington and was missing sorely his wife and
+child.
+
+"Molly darling, you mustn't wait any longer in Kentucky," her mother
+said at breakfast one morning. Molly was trying to dispose of a glass of
+milk and a soft boiled egg, although her throat seemed to close at the
+thought of food.
+
+"But, Mother, I wouldn't leave you for anything in the world," she
+declared, making a successful gulp which got rid of the milk, at least.
+
+"Your husband needs you, child, and I know it would be best for you.
+There is no use in waiting."
+
+Molly looked up, startled. Had her mother, too, lost heart? Her face had
+grown thinner in those days of waiting and her hair was quite grey, in
+fact, silvery about the temples; but her eyes still held the light of
+faith and high resolve.
+
+"She still has faith! And you, Molly Brown Green! Oh, ye of little
+faith! What right have you to be a clog and burden? Take another glass
+of milk this minute and keep up your health and your baby's health."
+This to herself, and aloud: "Why, Mumsy, I want to stay right here.
+Little Mildred is thriving and Edwin is doing very well at Wellington.
+Every one is asking him out to dine, now that he is untrammelled with a
+wife. He reports a big gain in attendance on last semestre and is as
+cheerful as can be. Caroline, please bring me another glass of milk, and
+I think I'll get you to soft boil another egg for me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+DES HALLES.
+
+
+Mère Tricot called Judy just at dawn. The kindly old grenadier stood
+over her, and this was no dream--she held a real cup of coffee.
+
+"The good man is ready. I hate to wake you, but if you want to go to
+market with him, it is time."
+
+"Oh, yes! It won't take me a minute."
+
+Judy gulped the coffee and dived into her clothes. There seemed to
+be no question of baths with the good Tricots, and Judy made a mental
+note that she would go every day to the Bents' studio for her cold
+plunge. A bathroom is the exception and not the rule in the poorer
+class of apartments in Paris. In New York, any apartment worthy of the
+name boasts a bathroom, but not so in the French city.
+
+Père Tricot was waiting for her with his little green push cart to
+bring home the purchases to be made in market. He was dressed in a
+stiff, clean, blue blouse and his kindly, lank old face was freshly
+shaven.
+
+"Ah, Mam'selle! So you will go with the old man?"
+
+"Go with you! Of course I will! I love the early morning, and the market
+will be beautiful."
+
+The streets were very quiet and misty. Paris never gets up very early,
+and as the cold weather comes, she lies abed later and later. The
+Gardens of the Luxembourg were showing signs of frost, or was it heavy
+dew? The leaves had begun to drop and some of them had turned.
+
+There was a delightful nip in the air and as Judy and the old man
+trudged along, the girl felt really happy, happier than she had for many
+a day. "It must be having a home that is doing it," she thought. "Maybe
+I am a domestic person, after all.
+
+"Père Tricot, don't you love your home?"
+
+"My home! You don't think that that shop in Boulevard Montparnasse is my
+home, eh?"
+
+"But where is your home then?"
+
+"Ah, in Normandy, near Roche Craie! That is where I was born and hope to
+die. We are saving for our old age now and will go back home some day,
+the good wife and I. Jean and Marie can run the shop, that is, if----"
+
+Judy knew he meant if Jean came through the war alive.
+
+"The city is not for me, but it seemed best to bring Jean here when he
+was little. There seemed no chance to do more than exist in the country,
+and here we have prospered."
+
+"I have visited at Roche Craie. I think it is beautiful country. No
+wonder you want to go back. The d'Ochtès were my friends there."
+
+"The Marquis d'Ochtè! Oh, Mam'selle, and to think of your being their
+guest and then mine!" Judy could have bitten out her tongue for saying
+she had visited those great folk. She could see now that the dear old
+man had lost his ease in her presence. "They are the greatest
+landowners of the whole department."
+
+"Yes, but they are quite simple and very kind. I got to know them
+through some friends of mine who were related to the Marquise. She, you
+know, was an American."
+
+"Yes, and a kind, great lady she is. Why, it was only day before
+yesterday she was in our shop. She makes a rule to get what she can from
+us for her household. She has a chef who can make every known sauce, but
+he cannot make a tart like my good wife's. We furnish all the tarts of
+the d'Ochtès when they are in Paris. Madame, the Marquise, is also
+pleased to say that my _pouree d'epinard_ is smoother and better than
+Gaston's, and only yesterday she bought a tray of it for their _déjeuner
+a la fourchette_. Her son Philippe is flying. The Marquis, too, is with
+his regiment."
+
+"How I wish I could have seen her!"
+
+"Ah, then, Mam'selle would not be ashamed for the Marquise to see her
+waiting in the shop of poor Tricot?"
+
+"Ashamed! Why, Père Tricot, what do you take me for? I am only too glad
+to help some and to feel that I can do something besides look on," and
+Judy, who had been walking on the sidewalk while her companion pushed
+his _petite voiture_ along the street, stepped down into the gutter and
+with her hand on the shaft went the rest of the way, helping to push the
+cart.
+
+As they approached the market, they were joined by more and more
+pedestrians, many of them with little carts, similar to Père Tricot's
+and many of them with huge baskets. War seemed to be forgotten for the
+time being, so bent were all of them on the business of feeding and
+being fed.
+
+"One must eat!" declared a pleasant fat woman in a high stiff white cap.
+"If Paris is to be entered to-morrow by the Prussians, I say we must be
+fed and full. There is no more pleasure in dying for your country empty
+than full."
+
+"Listen to the voice of the Halles, Mam'selle. Can't you hear it
+roaring? Ah! and there is the bell of St. Eustache."
+
+The peal of bells rose above the hum of the market.
+
+"St. Eustache! Can't we go into the church a little while first?"
+
+And so, hand in hand with the old Normandy peasant, Judy Kean walked
+into the great old church, and together they knelt on the flagged floor
+and prayed. Judy never did anything by halves, not even praying. When
+she prayed, she did it with a fervor and earnestness St. Anthony himself
+would have envied. When they rose from their knees, they both looked
+happier. Old Tricot had prayed for his boy, so soon to be in the
+trenches, and Judy offered an impassioned petition for the safety of her
+beloved parents.
+
+When they emerged from the church, the sun was up and the market was
+almost like a carnival, except for the fact that the color was subdued
+somewhat by the mourning that many of the women wore.
+
+"Already so many in mourning!" thought the girl. "What will it be
+later?"
+
+"First the butter and eggs and cheese! This way, Mam'selle!"
+
+They wormed their way between the great yellow wagons unloading huge
+crates of eggs and giant cheeses. The smell of butter made Judy think
+of Chatsworth and the dairy where she had helped Caroline churn on her
+memorable visit to the Browns. Ah me! How glad she would be to see them
+again. And Kent! She had not let herself think of Kent lately. He must
+be angry with her for not taking his advice and listening to his
+entreaties to go back to the United States with him. He had not written
+at all and he must have been home several weeks. Maybe the letter had
+miscarried, but other letters had come lately; and he might even have
+cabled her. He certainly seemed indifferent to her welfare, as now that
+the war had broken out, he had not even inquired as to her safety or her
+whereabouts; not even let her know whether or not the job in New York
+had materialized.
+
+She was awakened from her musings by her old friend, who had completed
+his bargaining for cheese, butter and eggs and now was proceeding to
+the fish market.
+
+"I must buy much fish. It is Friday, you remember, and since the war
+started, religion has become the style again in France, and now fish,
+and only fish, must be eaten on Friday. There are those that say that
+the war will help the country by making us good again."
+
+And so, in a far corner of the cart, well away from the susceptible
+butter and cheese, many fish were piled up, fenced off from the rest of
+the produce by a wall of huge black mussels in a tangle of sea weed.
+
+"Well, there are fish enough in this market to regenerate the whole
+world, I should think," laughed Judy.
+
+The stalls were laden with them and row after row of scaly monsters hung
+from huge hooks in the walls. Men, women and boys were scaling and
+cleaning fish all along the curbings.
+
+"Soon there will be only women and boys for the work," thought Judy
+sadly, "and maybe it will not be so very long before there will be only
+women."
+
+Cabbages and cauliflowers were bought next (cauliflowers that Puddenhead
+Wilson says are only cabbages been to college); Brussels sprouts, too;
+and spinach enough to furnish red blood for the whole army, Judy
+thought; then chickens, turkeys and grouse; a great smoked beef tongue,
+and a hog head for souse. The little green wagon was running over now
+and its rather rickety wheels creaked complainingly.
+
+Old Tricot and Judy started homeward at as rapid a rate as the load
+would allow. Judy insisted upon helping push, and indeed her services
+were quite necessary over the rough cobbles. When they reached the
+smooth asphalt, she told Père Tricot she would leave him for a moment
+and stop at the American Club in the hope of letters awaiting there for
+her.
+
+How sweet and fresh she looked as she waved her hand at the old man! Her
+cheeks were rosy, her eyes shining, and her expression so naïve and
+happy that she looked like a little child.
+
+"Ah, gentile, gentile!" he murmured. His old heart had gone out to this
+brave, charming American girl. "And to think of her being friends with
+Madame the Marquise!" he thought. "That will be a nut for the good wife
+and Marie to crack."
+
+He pushed his cart slowly along the asphalt, rather missing the sturdy
+strength that Judy had put into the work. Then he sat on a bench to rest
+awhile, one of those nice benches that Paris dots her thoroughfares with
+and one misses so on coming back to United States.
+
+Paris was well awake now and bustling. The streets were full of
+soldiers. Old women with their carts laden with chrysanthemums were
+trudging along to take their stands at the corners. The air was filled
+with the pungent odors of their wares. Old Tricot stretched himself:
+
+"I must be moving! There is much food to be cooked to-day. It is time my
+Mam'selle was coming along. Ah, there she is!" He recognized the jaunty
+blue serge jacket and pretty little velour sport hat that Judy always
+knew at which angle to place on her fluffy brown hair. "But how slowly
+she is walking! And where are her roses? Her head is bent down like some
+poor French woman who has bad news from the trenches."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE AMERICAN MAIL.
+
+
+Judy had, clasped in her arms, a package of mail, unopened except for
+the letter on top, which was the one that poor, brave Mrs. Brown had
+written her. She had kept throughout the letter the same gallant spirit
+of belief in her son's safety, but Judy could not take that view.
+
+"Gone! Gone! and all because of poor miserable, no-account me!" her
+heart cried out in its anguish, but she shed no tear and made no sound.
+Her face, glowing with health and spirits only a few minutes ago, was
+now as pale as a ghost and her eyes had lost their sparkle.
+
+Père Tricot hastened towards her as she came slowly down the street.
+
+"My dear little girl, what is it?"
+
+"He is drowned and all for me--just my stubbornness!"
+
+"Who? Your father?"
+
+"No!"
+
+"Your brother, then?"
+
+"I have no brother."
+
+"Ah, then, your sweetheart? Your fiancé?"
+
+"I--I--sometime he might--that is, we were not fiancéd, not exactly."
+
+The old man drew her down on the bench beside him:
+
+"Now tell me all about it, _ma pauvre petite_."
+
+And Judy told him of her friends in Kentucky. Of Molly Brown and her
+brother Kent; of her own stubbornness in not leaving France when the war
+broke out; and then she translated Mrs. Brown's letter for him.
+
+"Ah, but the good lady does not think he is drowned!"
+
+"Yes, but she is so wonderful, so brave."
+
+"Well, are you not wonderful and brave, too? You must go on with your
+courage. If a mother can write as she has done and have faith in _le bon
+Dieu_, then you must try, too--that will make you worthy of such a
+_belle mère_. Does she not say that two passengers were seen to be
+saved by the enemy?"
+
+"Oh, Père Tricot, you are good, good! I will try--if Kent's own mother
+can be so brave, why surely I must be calm, too, I, who am nothing to
+him."
+
+"Nothing? Ah, my dear Mam'selle, one who is nothing does not have young
+men take trips across the ocean for her. But look at the spinach wilting
+in the sun! We must hasten to get the cooking done."
+
+Poor Judy! All zest had gone out of the morning for her. She put her
+package of mail in the cart, not at all caring if it got at the fishy
+end, and wearily began to push. Père Tricot, well knowing that work was
+a panacea for sorrow, let her take her share of the burden, and together
+the old peasant in his stiff blue blouse and the sad young American girl
+trundled the provisions down the boulevard.
+
+"You have more letters, my daughter?"
+
+"Yes, I have not read them yet. I was afraid of more bad news."
+
+"Perhaps there is something from the mother and father."
+
+"No, the big one is from Molly and the others are just from various
+friends."
+
+When they reached the shop, of course Mère Tricot started in with her
+usual badinage directed against her life partner, but he soon tipped her
+a wink to give her to understand that Judy was in distress, and the kind
+old grenadier ceased her vituperation and went quietly to work washing
+spinach and making ready the fowls for the spit.
+
+Judy took her letters to a green bench in the diminutive court behind
+the apartment which passed for garden, with its one oleander tree and
+pots of geraniums. Her heart seemed to be up in her throat; at least,
+there was a strange pulsation there that must be heart. So this was
+sorrow! Strange to have lived as long as she had and never to have known
+what sorrow was before! The nearest she had ever come to sorrow was
+telling her mother and father good-by when they started on some perilous
+trip--but they had always come back, and she was used to parting with
+them.
+
+But Kent--maybe he would never come back! It was all very well for Mrs.
+Brown to refuse to believe in his being gone forever, but why should he
+be the one to be saved, after all? No doubt the passengers who were lost
+had mothers and--and what? Sweethearts--there she would say it! She was
+his sweetheart even though they were not really engaged. She knew it now
+for a certainty. Kent did not have to tell her what he felt for her, and
+now that it was too late, she knew what she felt for him. She knew now
+why she had been so lonesome. It was not merely the fact that war was
+going on and her friends were out of Paris--it was that she was longing
+for Kent. She understood now why she felt so homeless just at this time.
+She was no more homeless than she had always been, but now she wanted a
+home and she wanted it to be Kent's home, too. Fool! fool that she had
+been! Why hadn't she gone home like all the sensible Americans when war
+was declared? The Browns would never forgive her and she would never
+forgive herself. She read again Mrs. Brown's letter. How good she was to
+have been willing to have Kent turn right around and go back to Paris
+for that worthless Julia Kean. And now he was gone, and it was all her
+fault! Ah, me! Well, life must be lived, if all the color had gone out
+of it.
+
+She wearily opened the letter addressed in Molly's handwriting. It was
+from her father, and in it another from her mother, forwarded by Molly.
+At last she had heard from them. They, too, hoped she had gone back to
+America. Had taken for granted she had, since they had sent the letters
+to Molly. She read them over and over. The love they had for her was to
+be seen in every word. Never again would she part from them. How she
+longed for them! They would understand about Kent, even though she was
+not engaged to him. And now she knew what Bobby would advise her to do
+were he there in Paris: "Work! Work until you drop from it, but work!"
+
+Already the great range, that stretched the entire length of the tiny
+tiled kitchen, was filled with copper vessels, and appetizing odors were
+permeating the living room and the little shop beyond.
+
+"Let me help," said Judy bravely. "Must I mind the shop or do you need
+me here? I can't cook, but I can wash spinach and peel potatoes."
+
+"Marie can look after the shop this morning, my dear child, so you go
+rest yourself," said the good wife.
+
+"I don't want to rest! I want to work!"
+
+"Let her work, Mother! Let her work! It is best so," and Judy's old
+partner got the blue bowl, sacred to mayonnaise, and Judy sat on the
+bench in the court and stirred and stirred as she dropped the oil into
+the beaten egg. Her arm ached as the great smooth yellow mass grew
+thicker and thicker, but the more her arm ached, the less her heart
+ached. When the bowl was quite full, she started in on a great basket
+of potatoes that must be peeled, some for Saratoga chips and some for
+potato salad. Onions must be peeled, too, and then the spinach cleaned
+and chopped in a colander until it was a purée.
+
+The Tricots worked with a precision and ease that delighted Judy. She
+never tired of watching the grenadier turn out the wonderful little
+tarts. On that morning a double quantity was to be made as Marie was to
+carry a basket of them to "the regiment"; that, of course, meant Jean
+Tricot's regiment. They had not yet been ordered to the front, but were
+ready to go at any moment.
+
+The old woman put batch after batch in the great oven. They came out all
+done to a turn and all exactly alike, as though made by machinery. Then
+they were put in the show cases in the shop; and more were rolled out,
+filled and baked.
+
+"Sometime may I try to do some?"
+
+The old woman smiled indulgently at Judy's pale face.
+
+"You may try right now."
+
+Judy made a rather deformed batch but Mère Tricot declared the children
+would not know the difference, and they could be sold to them. "The
+soldats must have the prettiest and another time you can make them well
+enough for them."
+
+So far, Judy had not shed a tear. Her eyes felt dry and feverish and her
+heart was still beating in her throat in some mysterious way. Suddenly
+without a bit of warning the tears came. Splash! Splash! they dropped
+right on the tarts.
+
+"Never mind the tarts!" exclaimed the kindly grenadier. "Those must go
+to Jean's regiment. They will understand."
+
+"I could not help it," sobbed poor Judy. "I was thinking how proud Kent
+would be of me when he knew I could make tarts and wondering how many
+he could eat, when all of a sudden it came to me that he never would
+know--and--and--Oh, Mother Tricot!" and she buried her face on the bosom
+of the good old woman, who patted her with one hand and held her close
+while she adroitly whisked a pan of tarts from the oven with the other.
+
+"Tarts must not burn, no matter if hearts are broken!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE ZEPPELIN RAID.
+
+
+Judy's cry did her good, although it left her in such a swollen state
+she was not fit to keep shop, which was what she had planned to do for
+the afternoon.
+
+"I think I'll go round to the studio in Rue Brea for a little while. I
+want to get some things."
+
+What she really wanted was to get a bath and to be alone for a few
+hours. Her kind hosts thought it would be wise to let her do whatever
+she wanted, so they gave her God-speed but begged her not to be out
+late.
+
+Judy now longed for solitude with the same eagerness she had before
+longed for companionship. She knew it would be unwise for her to give
+up to this desire to any extent and determined to get back to her kind
+friends before dark, but be alone she must for a while. She got the key
+from the concierge and entered the studio. All was as she had left it.
+Windows and doors opened wide soon dispelled the close odor. A cold bath
+in the very attractive white porcelain tub, the pride of the Bents, made
+poor Judy feel better in spite of herself.
+
+"I don't want to feel better. I've been brave and noble all morning and
+now I want to be weak and miserable. I don't care whether school keeps
+or not. I am a poor, forlorn, broken-hearted girl, without any friends
+in all the world except some Normandy peasants. The Browns will all hate
+me, and my mother and father I may never see again. Oh, Kent! Kent! Why
+didn't you just pick me up and make me go with you? If you had been
+very, very firm, I'd have gone."
+
+Judy remembered with a grim smile how in old days at college she had
+longed to wear mourning and how absurd she had made herself by dyeing
+her hair and draping herself in black. "I'm going into mourning now. It
+is about all I can do for Kent. It won't cost much and somehow I'd feel
+better." Judy, ever visualizing, pictured herself in black with organdy
+collar and cuffs and a mournful, patient look. "I'll just go on selling
+tarts. It will help the Tricots and give me my board." She counted out
+her money, dwindled somewhat, but now that she was working she felt she
+might indulge her grief to the extent of a black waist and some white
+collars and cuffs. "I've got a black skirt and I'll get my blue suit
+dyed to-morrow. I'll line my black sport hat with white crêpe. That will
+make it do." In pity for herself, she wept again.
+
+She slipped out of the studio and made her few purchases at a little
+shop around the corner. Madame, the proprietaire, was all sympathy. She
+had laid in an especial stock of cheap mourning, she told Judy, as there
+was much demand for it now.
+
+It took nimble fingers to turn the jaunty sport hat into a sad little
+mourning bonnet, but Judy was ever clever at hat making, and when
+she finished just before the sun set, she viewed her handiwork with
+pardonable pride. She slipped into her cheap black silk waist and pinned
+on the collar and cuffs. The hat was very becoming, so much so that
+Judy had another burst of tears.
+
+"I can't bear for it to be becoming. I want to look as ugly and forlorn
+as possible."
+
+She determined to leave her serge suit in the studio and come on the
+following day to take it to a dye shop. As she was to do this, she
+decided not to leave the key with the concierge but take it with her.
+
+Her kind friends looked sadly at the mourning. They realized when they
+saw it that Judy had given up all hope of her friend.
+
+"Ah, the pity of it! The pity of it!" exclaimed the old grenadier.
+
+Marie, whose apple-like countenance was not very expressive of anything
+but health, looked as sympathetic as the shape of her face would allow.
+Round rosy cheeks, round black eyes, and a round red mouth are not easy
+to mold into tragic lines, but Judy knew that Marie was feeling deeply
+for her. She was thinking of her Jean and the possibility of turning her
+bridal finery into mourning. There was so much mourning now and
+according to the _Temps_, the war was hardly begun.
+
+"I'll have my serge suit dyed to-morrow," Judy confided to her.
+
+"Ah, no! Do not have it dyed! Mère Tricot and I can do it here and do it
+beautifully. The butcher's wife over the way is dyeing to-morrow and she
+will give us some of her mixture. It is her little brother who fell only
+yesterday."
+
+That night there was great excitement in the Montparnasse quarter. A
+fleet of air ships circled over the city, dropping bombs as they flew.
+The explosions were terrific. The people cowered in their homes at first
+and then came rushing out on the streets as the noise subsided.
+
+Père Tricot came back with the news that no great harm had been done,
+but it was his opinion that the Prussians had been after the Luxembourg.
+
+"They know full well that our art treasures are much to us, and they
+would take great pleasure in destroying them. The beasts!"
+
+"Where did the bombs strike?" asked Judy from her couch in the living
+room. She had wept until her pillow had to be turned over and then had
+at last sunk into a sleep of exhaustion only to be awakened by the
+ear-splitting explosions.
+
+"I don't know exactly, but it was somewhere over towards the Gardens of
+the Luxembourg. I thank the good God you were here with us, my child."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"L'HIRONDELLE DE MER."
+
+
+Kent Brown, when he reached New York on his return trip to Paris in
+quest of the rather wilful, very irritating, and wholly fascinating
+Judy, got his money changed into gold, which he placed in a belt worn
+under his shirt.
+
+"There is no telling what may happen," he said to the young Kentuckian,
+Jim Castleman, with whom he had struck up an acquaintance on the train.
+"Gold won't melt in the water if we do get torpedoed, and if I have it
+next me, whoever wants it will have to do some tearing off of clothes to
+get it. And what will I be doing while they are tearing off my clothes?"
+
+"Good idea! I reckon I'll do the same--not that I have enough to weigh
+myself down with." Castleman was on his way to France to fight.
+
+"I don't give a hang whether I fight with the English, French, Serbs
+or Russians, just so I get in a few licks on the Prussians." He was a
+strapping youth of six feet three with no more idea of what he was going
+up against than a baby. War was to him a huge football game and he
+simply meant to get into the game.
+
+The _Hirondelle_ was a slow boat but sailing immediately, so Kent and
+his new friend determined to take it, since its destination, Havre,
+suited them.
+
+"I like the name, too," declared Kent, who shared with his mother and
+Molly a certain poetic sentiment in spite of his disclaimer of any such
+foolishness.
+
+There were very few passengers, the boat being a merchantman. Kent and
+Jim were thrown more and more together and soon were as confidential as
+two school girls. Kent had been rather noncommittal in his replies at
+first to Jim's questions as to what his business was in the war zone at
+such a time if it were not fighting. As their friendship grew and
+deepened, as a friendship can on shipboard in an astonishingly short
+time, Kent was glad enough to talk about Judy and his mission in Paris.
+
+"She sounds like a corker! When is it to be?"
+
+"I don't know that it is to be, at all," blushed Kent. "You see, we are
+not what you might call engaged."
+
+"Your fault or hers?"
+
+"Why, we have just drifted along. Somehow I didn't like to tie her down
+until I could make good--and she--well, I believe she felt the same way;
+but of course I can't say. She knows perfectly well that I have never
+looked at another girl since I saw her at Wellington when she and my
+sister graduated there. She has--well,--browsed a little, but I don't
+think she ever meant anything by it. We get along like a house
+afire,--like the same things,--think the same way,--we have never talked
+out yet."
+
+"Well, if you'll excuse me, I think you were an ass not to settle the
+matter long before this."
+
+"Do you think so? Do you think it would have been fair? Why, man, I owed
+some money to my mother for my education in Paris and did not even have
+a job in sight!"
+
+"Pshaw! What difference does that make? Don't you reckon girls have as
+much spunk about such things as men have? If I ever see the girl I want
+bad enough to go all the way to Paris to get her, I'll tell her so and
+have an answer if I haven't a coat to my back."
+
+"Perhaps you are right. I just didn't want to be selfish."
+
+"Selfish! Why, they like us selfish."
+
+Kent laughed at the wisdom of the young Hercules. No doubt they (whoever
+"they" might be) did like Castleman selfish or any other way. He looked
+like a young god as he sprawled on deck, his great muscular white arm
+thrown over his head to keep the warm rays of the sun out of his eyes.
+His features were large and well cut, his hair yellow and curly in spite
+of the vigorous efforts he made to brush it straight. His eyes were blue
+and childlike with long dark lashes, the kind of eyes girls always
+resent having been portioned out to men. There was no great mentality
+expressed in his countenance but absolute honesty and good nature. One
+felt he was to be trusted.
+
+"Doesn't it seem strange to be loafing around here on this deck with no
+thought of war and of the turmoil we shall soon be in?" said Jim one
+evening at sunset when they were nearing their port. "We have only a
+day, or two days at most, before we will be in Paris, and still it is so
+quiet and peaceful out here that I can hardly believe there is any other
+life."
+
+"Me, too! I feel as though I had been born and bred on this boat. All
+the other things that have happened to me are like a dream and this life
+here on the good old _Hirondelle de Mer_ is the only real thing. I
+wonder if all the passengers feel this way."
+
+There were no women on board but the other passengers were Frenchmen,
+mostly waiters from New York, going home to fight for _la France_. The
+cargo was pork and beef, destined to feed the army of France.
+
+"What's that thing sticking up in the water out yonder?" exclaimed
+Kent. "It looks like the top of a mast just disappearing."
+
+"A wreck, I reckon!" exclaimed Jim.
+
+Kent smiled at his countryman's "reckon." Having been away from the
+South for many months, it sounded sweet to his ears. The "guess" of the
+Northerner and "fancy" of the Englishman did not mean the same to him.
+
+The lookout saw the mast-like object at the same time they noted it, and
+suddenly there was a hurrying and scurrying over the whole ship.
+
+"Look, it's sunk entirely out of sight! Jim Castleman, that's a German
+submarine!"
+
+The shock that followed only a moment afterwards was indescribable. It
+threw both of the Kentuckians down. They had hastened to the side of the
+vessel, the better to view the strange "thing sticking up out of the
+water."
+
+The boats were lowered very rapidly and filled by the crazed passengers
+and crew. The poor waiters had not expected to serve their country by
+drowning like rats. As for the crew,--they were noncombatants and
+not employed to serve any country in any way. They were of various
+nationality, many of them being Portuguese with a sprinkling of
+Scandinavians.
+
+"Here's a life preserver, Brown! Better put it on. This ain't the Ohio."
+
+"Good! I'll take my chances in the water any day rather than in one of
+those boats. Can you swim?"
+
+"Sure! I can do three miles without knowing it. And you?"
+
+"Hump! Brought up within a mile of the Ohio River and been going over to
+Indiana and back without landing ever since I was in pants."
+
+"Well, let's dive now and get clear of the sinking boat. If anything
+happens to me and you get clear, you write my sister in Lexington--she's
+all I have left."
+
+"All right, Jim! Let's shake. If I give out and you get through, please
+go get Judy and take her back to my mother."
+
+"That's a go! But see here, there is nothing going to happen to us if
+endurance will count for anything. Have you got on your money belt?"
+
+"Yes; and you?" said Kent, feeling for the gold he carried around his
+waist.
+
+"I'm all ready then."
+
+The boats, loaded to their guards, were putting off. Our young men felt
+it was much safer to trust to themselves than to the crazy manning of
+the already overloaded boats. They were singularly calm in their
+preparations as they strapped on the life preservers.
+
+"Jim, throw away the papers you have, recommending you to that French
+general. We may get picked up by the submarine, and as plain,
+pleasure-seeking Americans we have a much better chance of being treated
+properly than if one of us was going to join the Allies." Kent had
+inherited from his mother the faculty of keeping his head in time of
+peril.
+
+"Good eye, old man! They are in my grip and can just stay there. I
+reckon I'm a--a--book agent. That won't compromise me any."
+
+"All right, stick to it! And here goes! We must stay together."
+
+The Kentuckians dived as well as the bulky life preservers would permit
+and then they swam quietly along side by side. The ship was rapidly
+settling. The last boat was off, so full that every little wave splashed
+over its panic-stricken passengers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+TUTNO.
+
+
+The sea was comparatively calm and quite warm. If it had been anything
+but a shipwreck, our young men would have enjoyed the experience. They
+congratulated themselves that they had trusted to their own endurance
+and the life preservers rather than to the crazy boats when they saw one
+of the overloaded vessels come within an ace of turning turtle.
+
+The submarine was now on top of the water and was slowly steaming
+towards the scene of disaster. The boats made for the opposite direction
+as fast as the oarsmen could pull. They had not realized that all the
+submarine wanted was to destroy the pork and beef cargo. The hungrier
+the French army got the sooner they would be conquered by the Germans.
+
+"Well, my friend the book agent, what do you think about swimming in
+the direction of the enemy? Remember we are Americans, just plain
+Americans with no desire to do anything in the way of swatting
+Prussians.--Neutral noncombatants!" said Kent, swimming easily, the
+life preserver lifting him so far out of the water that he declared he
+felt like a bell buoy.
+
+"Yes, I'll remember! My line is family albums and de luxe copies of
+Ruskin. I hope those poor devils in the boats will make land or get
+picked up or something."
+
+"Me, too! If the sea only stays so smooth they can make a port in less
+than a day, if they don't come a cropper. We are almost in the English
+Channel, I should say, due south of the Scilly Islands."
+
+"Well, I feel as though I belonged on them--here we are shipwrecked and
+floating around like a beach party, conversing as quietly as though it
+were the most ordinary occurrence to book agents and damsel seekers!"
+
+"There is no use in getting in a stew. I have a feeling that the Germans
+are going to pick us up. They are heading this way and I don't reckon
+they will let us sink before their eyes. If they don't pick us up, we
+are good for many hours of this play. I feel as fresh as a daisy."
+
+"Same here!"
+
+"Thank God, there weren't any women and children on board!" said Kent
+fervently.
+
+"Yes, I was feeling that all the time. I'd hate to think of their being
+in those crazy boats."
+
+The German boat was quite close to them now. The deck was filled with
+men, all of them evidently in great good humour with themselves and Fate
+because of the terrible havoc they had played with the poor _Hirondelle
+de Mer_, who was now at her last gasp, the waves washing over her upper
+decks.
+
+"_Wei gehts?_" shouted Jim, raising himself up far in the water and
+wigwagging violently at the death dealing vessel.
+
+It was only a short time before the efficient crew had Kent and Jim on
+board, in dry clothes and before an officer. The fact that they were
+Americans was beyond dispute, but their business on the other side was
+evidently taken with a grain of salt by the very keen looking, alert
+young man who questioned them in excellent English.
+
+Jim was quite glib with his book agent tale. He got off a line of talk
+about the albums that almost convulsed Kent.
+
+"Why were you going to Paris to sell such things? Would a country at war
+be a good field for such an industry?"
+
+"But the country will not be at war long. We expect the Germans to have
+conquered in a short time, and then they will want many albums for the
+snapshots they have taken during the campaign. I have been sent as an
+especial favor by my company, who wish to honor me. I hate to think of
+all my beautiful books being sunk in the _Hirondelle_." Jim looked so
+sad and depressed that the young officer offered him a mug of beer and
+urged him to try the Bologna sausage that was among the viands waiting
+for them.
+
+Kent's reason for going to Paris was received with open doubt. It was
+very amusing in a way that they should be completely taken in by Jim's
+ingenuous tale of albums while Kent, telling the truth, the whole truth,
+and nothing but the truth, should be doubted.
+
+"Going to Paris to bring home a young lady? Is she your sister?"
+
+"No, she is a friend of my sister," answered Kent, feeling very much as
+though he were saying a lesson.
+
+"Do you know Paris?"
+
+"Yes, I studied architecture at the Beaux Arts last winter."
+
+"Ah, then your sympathies are with France!"
+
+"I am an American and my nation is remaining neutral on the war."
+
+"Yes, your nation but not the individuals! What were your intentions
+after finding the young lady?"
+
+"To take her back to United States as fast as we could go."
+
+"Well, well! I am afraid the young lady will have to content herself in
+Paris for some weeks yet, as we are bound for other ports now. Make
+yourselves at home," and with a salute the officer left them to the
+welcome meal which had immediately been furnished them after their
+ducking.
+
+If the Kentuckians had had nothing to do but enjoy life on that
+submarine, no doubt they could have done it. They were treated most
+courteously by officers and men. The food was plentiful and wholesome,
+the life was interesting and conversation with the sailors most
+instructive, but Jim was eager to strike that blow against Prussia and
+it was extremely irksome to him to have to keep up the farce of being a
+book agent. Kent was more and more uneasy about Judy, realizing, from
+the sample of Germans he now came in contact with, that ruthlessness was
+the keynote of their character. They were fighting to win, and win they
+would or die in the attempt; by fair means or foul, they meant to
+conquer the whole world who did not side with them.
+
+"Gee, if I don't believe they can do it," sighed Jim, as he and his
+friend were having one of their rare tete-a-tetes. "They have such
+belief in their powers."
+
+"Yes, they seem much more stable, somehow, than the French. Did you ever
+imagine anything like the clockwork precision with which this monster is
+run?"
+
+"When do you reckon we will get off of her? We have been on a week now
+and I see no signs of landing us. I am always asking that human question
+mark, Captain von Husser, what he is going to do with us, and he just
+smiles until his moustache ends stick into his eyes, and looks wise. I
+feel like Hansel and Gretel and think maybe they are fattening us to eat
+later on. I am getting terribly flabby and fat," and Jim felt his
+muscles and patted his stomach with disapproval.
+
+"I'd certainly like to know where we are. You notice they never tell us
+a thing, and since we are allowed only in the cabin and on a certain
+part of the deck, we never have a chance at the chart. I wish they would
+let us bunk alone and not have that fat head in with us. This is the
+first time they have let us talk together since we got hauled in, and I
+bet some one is to blame for this."
+
+Kent had hardly spoken before a flushed lieutenant came hurriedly up and
+with ill-concealed perturbation entered into conversation with them.
+
+"Gee whiz!" thought Kent. "I wish Jim Castleman and I knew some kind of
+a language that these butchers did not know. But the trouble is they are
+so terribly well educated they know all we know and three times as much
+besides." Suddenly there flashed into his mind a childish habit the
+Browns used to have of speaking in a gibberish called Tutno. "I wonder
+if Jim knows it! I've a great mind to try him." Putting his hand on his
+friend's arm, he said quite solemnly: "Jug i mum, sank a nun tut, yack o
+u, tut a lul kuk, Tutno."
+
+"Sus u rur e!" exclaimed Jim, delightedly.
+
+The lieutenant looked quite startled, wigwagged to a brother officer who
+was passing and spoke hurriedly to him in German. As German was worse
+than Greek to Kent and Jim (they had studied some Greek at school but
+knew no German) they did not know for sure what they were saying, but
+from the evident excitement of the two officers they gathered they had
+quite upset the calculations of their under-sea hosts.
+
+"Gug o tot, 'e mum, gug o i nun gug, sus o mum e!" exclaimed Kent with
+such a mischievous twinkle in his eye that the two officers bristled
+their moustaches in a fury of curiosity.
+
+"Yack o u, bub e tut!" was Jim's cryptic rejoinder.
+
+For the benefit of my readers who have never whiled away the golden
+hours of childhood with Tutno or who have perchance forgotten it, I
+reckon (being a Southerner myself, I shall say reckon) I had better
+explain the intricacies of the language. Tutno is a language which is
+spoken by spelling and every letter sounds like a word. The vowels
+remain the same as in English but the consonants are formed by adding u
+and then the same consonant again. For instance: M is mum; N is nun; T
+is tut; R is rur. There are a few exceptions which vary in different
+localities making the language slightly different in the states. In
+Kentucky, C is sank; Y is yack; J is jug. Now when Jim exclaimed: "Yack
+o u bub e tut!" he conveyed the simple remark: "You bet!" to Kent's
+knowing ears.
+
+Kent had opened the conversation by the brilliant remark: "Jim, can you
+speak Tutno?" and Jim had answered: "Sure!" Then Kent had come back
+with: "Got 'em going some!"
+
+The Kentuckians were in great distress when they realized that no doubt
+the sinking of the _Hirondelle de Mer_ had been reported in the United
+States and that their families must be in a state of doubt as to their
+whereabouts. They had requested the Captain to let them send a message
+if possible, and he had told them with great frankness that in war time
+the women must expect to be uncertain. Two more ships had been sunk
+since they had been taken on board, but they were kept in ignorance
+as to what ships they were or what had been the fate of the crew or
+passengers. They knew that some men had been added to the number of
+prisoners on board, but as they were kept in a compartment to
+themselves, they never saw them.
+
+Between operations, when the submarine came up on top of the water
+and all on board swarmed on deck to smoke and enjoy the fresh air and
+sunshine, Kent and Jim were politely conducted down into the cabin after
+they were deemed to have had enough, and then the other prisoners,
+whoever they were, were evidently given an airing.
+
+After our young men started their Tutno game they were never left alone
+one minute. Such a powwowing as went on after it was reported was never
+beheld. It was evidently considered of grave international importance.
+Once they found their keeper taking furtive notes. Evidently they hoped
+to gain something by finding out what the Americans were saying.
+
+The plentiful food that had at first been served to them was growing
+more meagre and less choice. There was nothing but a small portion of
+black bread with very bad butter and a cup of coffee for breakfast; a
+stew of a nondescript canned meat and more black bread for dinner, and
+for supper nothing but black bread with a smearing of marmalade.
+
+Jim's superfluous flesh began to go and Kent got as lean as a grey
+hound.
+
+"Pup rur o vuv i sus i o nun sus, lul o wuv, I rur e sack kuk o nun!"
+said Jim, tightening his belt.
+
+It had been more than two weeks since the sinking of the _Hirondelle_
+and the young men were growing very weary of the life. Their misery was
+increasing because of the uncertainty they knew their families must be
+in. No respite was in sight. They could tell by the balmy air when they
+were allowed on deck that they were further south than they had been
+when they were struck, but where, they had not the slightest idea.
+
+"The water looks as it does around Burmuda, but surely we are not over
+there," said Kent in Tutno.
+
+"The Lord knows where we are!" answered Jim in the same language.
+
+"I wish the brutes would let us telegraph our folks, somehow. They could
+do it if they chose. They can do anything, these Prussians." When Kent
+said Prussians in Tutno: "Pup rur u sus sus i nun sus," the young
+officer whose turn it was to guard them whipped out his note book and
+examined it closely.
+
+"Sus often repeated!" he muttered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE "SIGNY."
+
+
+"The orders of the Commander are for the Americans to disembark!"
+
+A lieutenant clicked his heels in front of our friends and saluted.
+
+"Bub u lul lul yack!" shouted Jim. "Where? When?"
+
+"Immediately!"
+
+The submarine was on the surface of the water, but Jim and Kent had been
+ushered below, evidently to give their mysterious fellow prisoners a
+turn at the deck. They were never allowed to see them, and to this day
+are absolutely ignorant as to who they were or how many or of what
+nationality.
+
+It turned out that a Swedish vessel, the _Signy_, had been sighted
+thirteen miles off the Spanish port of Camariñas. She was signaled and
+ordered to take aboard the Kentuckians and land them. Explicit commands
+were given the captain of the _Signy_ that she was to land the young men
+immediately.
+
+Kent and Jim were too glad to get off the submarine to care where they
+were being landed. They only hoped it was not in South America.
+
+"Gug o o dud bub yack!" shouted Jim to the grinning crew of the German
+vessel.
+
+The young lieutenant of the inquisitive mind made another note in his
+little book as the life boat from the Swedish ship bore the young men
+away.
+
+They were very cordially received on board the _Signy_ but not allowed
+to stay a moment longer than was necessary. The ship steamed to within a
+few miles of the Spanish port, all the time being followed up by the
+submarine, then the boats were lowered again and Kent and Jim rowed to
+shore. They were given a good meal in the interim, however, one that
+they were most pleased to get, too, as black bread and canned stew had
+begun to pall on these favored sons of Kentucky.
+
+"Where in the thunder is Camariñas?" queried Kent. "I know it is Spain,
+but is it north, south, east or west?"
+
+"Well, I reckon it isn't east and that's about all I know."
+
+It proved to be in the northwest corner and after some mix-ups, a person
+was found who could speak English. The American Consul was tracked,
+cablegrams were sent to Kentucky apprising their families of their
+safety, and at last our friends were on the train en route for Paris.
+
+It was a long and circuitous journey, over and under and around
+mountains. They would have enjoyed it at any other time, but Kent was
+too uneasy about Judy to enjoy anything, and Jim was too eager to get in
+line to swat the Prussians, as he expressed it, to be interested in
+Spanish scenery. They traveled third class as they had no intention of
+drawing too recklessly on their hoarded gold.
+
+After many hours of travel by day and night, they finally arrived in
+Paris. It was eleven at night and our young men were weary, indeed. The
+hard benches of the third class coaches had made their impression and
+they longed for sheets and made-up beds.
+
+"A shave! A shave! My kingdom for a shave!" exclaimed Kent, as they
+stretched their stiffened limbs after tumbling out of the coach in the
+Gare de Sud.
+
+"Don't forget I am a stranger in a strange land, so put me wise," begged
+Jim.
+
+"I know a terribly cheap little hotel on Montparnasse and Raspail where
+we can put up, without even the comforts of a bum home, but we can make
+out there and it is cheap. The _Haute Loire_ is its high sounding name,
+but it is not high, I can tell you."
+
+"Well, let's do it. I hope there is some kind of a bath there."
+
+"I trust so, but if there isn't, we can go to a public bath."
+
+The Kentuckians were a very much dishevelled pair. They had purchased
+the necessary toilet articles at Camariñas, but sleeping for nights in
+suits in which they had already had quite a lengthy swim did not improve
+their appearance. The submariners had pressed their clothes after their
+ducking, but Jim's trousers had shrunk lengthways until he said he felt
+like Buster Brown, and Kent's had dried up the other way, so that in
+walking two splits had arrived across his knees.
+
+"We look like tramps, but the _Haute Loire_ is used to our type. I don't
+believe we could get into a good hotel."
+
+"Are you going to look up your girl--excuse me, I mean Miss Kean, before
+you replenish your wardrobe?"
+
+"Why, yes, I must not wait a minute. I would like to do it to-night."
+
+"To-night! Man, you are crazy! Get that alfalfa off your face first. One
+night can't get her into much trouble."
+
+"Perhaps you are right. I am worn out, too, and a night's rest and a
+shave will do wonders for both of us."
+
+Paris looked very changed to Kent. The streets were so dark and
+everything looked so sad, very different from the gay city he had left
+only a few weeks before. The _Haute Loire_ had not changed, though. It
+was the same little hospitable fifth class joint. The madame received
+the exceedingly doubtful looking guests with as much cordiality as she
+would had they been the President of the Republic and General Joffre.
+
+There were no baths that night, but tumbling into bed, our Kentuckians
+were lost to the world until the next day. What if the Prussians did fly
+over the city, dropping bombs on helpless noncombatants? Two young men
+who had been torpedoed; had floated around indefinitely in the Atlantic
+Ocean; had been finally picked up by the submarine that had done the
+damage; had remained in durance vile for several weeks on the submarine,
+resorting to Tutno to have any private conversation at all; and at last
+been transferred to a Swedish vessel and dumped by them on the northwest
+coast of Spain--those young men cared little whether school kept or not.
+The bombs that dropped that night were nothing more than pop crackers to
+them. The excitement in the streets did not reach their tired ears.
+
+Kent dreamed of Chatsworth and of taking Judy down to Aunt Mary's cabin
+so the old woman could see "that Judy gal" once more. Jim Castleman
+dreamed he swatted ten thousand Prussians, which was a sweet and
+peaceful dream to one who considered swatting the Prussians a
+privilege.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE CABLEGRAM.
+
+
+"Tingaling, aling, aling! Phome a ringin' agin! I bet that's Mr. Paul,"
+declared Caroline, the present queen of the Chatsworth kitchen. "I kin
+tell his ring ev'y time. I'm a goin' ter answer it, Miss Molly."
+
+Molly, who was ironing the baby's cap strings and bibs (work she never
+trusted any one to do), smiled. It was one of Caroline's notions that
+each person had a particular way of ringing the telephone. She was
+always on the alert to answer the "phome," and would stop anything she
+was doing and tear to be first to take down the receiver, although it
+always meant that some member of the family must come and receive the
+message which usually was perfectly unintelligible to the willing girl.
+
+The telephone was in the great old dining room, because, as Mrs. Brown
+said, every one would call up at meal time and if you were there, you
+were there. Molly followed Caroline to the dining room, knowing full
+well that she would be needed when once the preliminaries were over. She
+gathered the cap strings and bibs, now neatly ironed and ready for the
+trip to Wellington that she would sooner or later have to take.
+
+Still no news from the _Hirondelle de Mer_, that is, no news from Kent.
+The last boat load of sailors and passengers had been taken up, but none
+of them could say for sure whether the two Kentuckians had been saved or
+not. One man insisted he had seen the submarine stop and take something
+or some one on board, but when closely questioned he was quite hazy as
+to his announcement. Jimmy Lufton had kept the cables hot trying to find
+out something. The Browns and Jim Castleman's sister had communicated
+with each other on the subject of the shipwrecked boys.
+
+"'Low!" she heard Caroline mutter with that peculiarly muffled tone that
+members of her race always seem to think they must assume when speaking
+through the telephone. "This here is Mrs. Brown's res-i-d-e-n-c-e!
+Yessir! This here is Ca'line at the phome. Yessir! Miss Molly done made
+yo' maw eat her breakfus' in the baid. No, sir, not to say sick in the
+baid--yessir, kinder sick on the baid. Yessir! Miss Molly is a
+launderin' of the cap ties fer the baby. We is all well, sir, yessir.
+I'll call Miss Molly."
+
+Of course she hung up the receiver before Molly could drop her cap
+strings and reach the telephone.
+
+"Oh, Caroline, why did you hang it up? Was it Mr. Paul?"
+
+"Yassum! It were him. I done tole you I could tell his ring. I hung up
+the reception cause I didn't know you was so handy, an' I thought if I
+kep it down, it might was'e the phome somehow, while I went out to fetch
+you."
+
+Molly couldn't help laughing, although it was very irritating for
+Caroline to be so intensely stupid about telephoning. Paul, knowing
+Caroline's ways, rang up again in a moment and Molly was there ready to
+get the message herself.
+
+"Molly, honey, are you well? Is Mother well? How is the baby?"
+
+"All well, Paul! Any news?"
+
+"Good news, Molly!" Molly dropped all the freshly ironed finery and
+leaned against the wall for support. "A cablegram from Spain! Kent was
+landed there by the German submarine."
+
+"Kent! Are you sure?"
+
+"As sure as shootin'! Let me read it to you--'Safe--well, Kent.' Tell
+Mother as soon as you can, Molly, but go easy with it. Good news might
+knock her out as much as bad news. I'll be out with John as fast as his
+tin Lizzie can buzz us."
+
+"Safe! Kent alive and well!"
+
+Molly's knees were trembling so she could hardly get to her mother's
+room, where that good lady had been pretending to eat her breakfast in
+bed. Old Shep, standing by her bedside, had a suspiciously greasy
+expression around his mouth and was very busy licking his lips, which
+imparted the information to the knowing Molly that her mother's dainty
+breakfast had disappeared to a spot to which it was not destined by the
+two anxious cooks, Molly and Caroline.
+
+"Molly, what is it? I heard the 'phone ring. Was it Paul?"
+
+"Yes, Mother! Good news!"
+
+Mrs. Brown closed her eyes and lay back on her pillows, looking so pale
+that Molly was scared. How fragile the good lady was! Her profile was
+more cameo-like than ever. These few weeks of waiting, in spite of the
+brave front she had shown to the world, had told on her. Could she stand
+good news any better than she could bad?
+
+"Kent?" she murmured faintly.
+
+"Yes, Mother, a cablegram! 'Safe, well, Kent.'"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Spain, I don't know what part."
+
+And then the long pent-up flood gates were opened and Mrs. Brown and
+Molly had such a cry as was never seen or heard of. The cap strings that
+Molly had dropped on the floor when she heard that there was news, she
+had gathered up in one wild swoop on the way to her mother's room, and
+these were first brought into requisition to weep on, and then the
+sheets and the napkin from the breakfast tray, and at last even old Shep
+had to get damp.
+
+"I bus' stop ad gall up Zue ad Ad Zarah. Oh, Bother, Bother, how good
+God is!"
+
+"Yes, darling, He is good whether our Kent was spared to us or not,"
+said Mrs. Brown, showing much more command of her consonants than poor
+Molly.
+
+Caroline appeared, one big grin, bearing little Mildred in her arms.
+
+"She done woke up an' say ter me: 'Ca'line, what all dis here rumpus
+'bout?'"
+
+As Mildred had as yet said nothing more than "Goo! Goo!" that brought
+the smiles to Molly and Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Lawd Gawd a mussy! Is Mr. Kent daid? Is that what Mr. Paul done phomed?
+I mus' run tell Aunt Mary. I boun' ter be the fust one."
+
+"No, no, Caroline! Mr. Kent is alive and well."
+
+"'Live an' well! Well, Gawd be praised! When I come in an' foun' you
+all a actin' lak what the preacher says will be in the las' day er
+jedgment, a weepin' an' wailin' an' snatchin' er teeth, I say ter
+myse'f: 'Ca'line, that there dream you had 'bout gittin' ma'id was sho'
+sign er death, drownin' referred.' Well, Miss Molly, if'n you'll hol'
+the baby, I'll go tell Aunt Mary the good news, too. Cose 'tain't quite
+so scrumptious to be the fust ter carry good news as 'tis bad, but then
+news is news."
+
+Sue was telephoned to immediately and joined in the general rejoicing.
+Aunt Sarah Clay was quite nonplussed for a moment because of the
+attitude she had taken about the family mourning, but her affection for
+her sister, which was really very sincere in spite of her successful
+manner of concealing it, came to the fore and she, too, rejoiced. Of
+course she had to suggest, to keep in character, that Kent might have
+communicated with his family sooner if he only would have exerted
+himself, but Molly was too happy to get angry and only laughed.
+
+"Aunt Clay can no more help her ways than a chestnut can its burr." And
+then she remembered how as children they would take sticks and beat the
+chestnut burrs open and she wondered if a good beating administered on
+Aunt Clay might not help matters. She voiced this sentiment to her
+mother, who said:
+
+"My dear Molly, Life has administered the beating on your Aunt Clay long
+ago. It is being childless that makes her so bitter. I know that and
+that is the reason I am so patient, at least, I try to be patient with
+her. Of course, she always asserts she is glad she has no children, that
+my children have been a never ending anxiety to me and she is glad she
+is spared a similar worry."
+
+"But, Mother, we are not a never-ending anxiety, are we?"
+
+"Yes, my darling, but an anxiety I would not be without for all the
+wealth of the Indies. Aren't you a little bit anxious all the time about
+your baby?"
+
+"Why, yes, just a teensy weensy bit, but then I haven't got used to her
+yet."
+
+"Well, when you get used to her, she will be just that much more
+precious."
+
+"But then I have just one, and you have seven."
+
+"Do you think you love her seven times as much as I love you, or Kent or
+Milly or any of them?"
+
+"Oh, Mother, of course I don't. I know you love all of us just as much
+as I love my little Mildred, only I just don't see how you can."
+
+"Maybe you will have to have seven children to understand how I can, but
+when you realize what it means to have Mildred, maybe you can understand
+what it has meant always to poor Sister Sarah never to have had any
+children."
+
+"I suppose it is hard on her but, Mother dear, if she had had the seven
+and you had never had any, do you think for a minute you would have been
+as porcupinish and cactus-like in your attitude toward the world and
+especially toward Aunt Clay's seven as she is toward yours? Never!"
+
+Molly's statement was not to be combatted, although Mrs. Brown was not
+sure what she would have been like without her seven anxieties; but
+Molly knew that she would have been the same lovely person, no matter
+how many or how few children she had had.
+
+"I'm going to try to feel differently toward Aunt Clay," she whispered
+into her baby's ear, as she cuddled her up to her after the great rite
+of bathing her was completed that morning. "Just think what it must be
+never to hold your own baby like this! Poor Aunt Clay! No wonder she is
+hard and cold--but goodness me, I'm glad I did not draw her for a
+parent." The baby looked up into her mother's eyes with a gurgle and
+crow, as though she, too, were pleased that her Granny was as she was
+and not as Aunt Clay was.
+
+"We are going to see Daddy soon, do you know that, honey baby?" And
+Molly clasped her rosy infant to her breast with a heart full of
+thanksgiving that now there was no dire reason for her remaining in
+Kentucky longer.
+
+A farewell visit must be paid to Aunt Mary. The baby was dressed in
+one of her very best slips and Molly put on her new blue suit for the
+occasion, as she well knew how flattered the old woman was by such an
+attention.
+
+"Well, bless Gawd, if here ain't my Molly baby and the little Miss Milly
+all dressed up in they best bibantucker! I been a lyin' here a dreamin'
+you was all back in the carstle, that there apple tree what you
+youngsters done built a house up'n an' Miss Milly done sent me to say
+you mus' come an wash yo' faceanhans fer dinner, jes' lak she done a
+millium times, an' who should be up in the tree with you an' that there
+Kent but yo' teacher an' that there Judy gal."
+
+Molly laughed as she always did when Aunt Mary called Professor Edwin
+Green, her teacher.
+
+"Yes, chile, they was up there with you an' Kent up'n had the imprence
+to tell me to go tell his maw that he warn't comin' ter no dinner,
+'cause he an' that there Judy gal was a keepin' house up the tree." The
+old woman chuckled with delight at Kent's "imprence."
+
+"I shouldn't be astonished if they did go to housekeeping soon, Aunt
+Mary, but I don't fancy it will be up a tree."
+
+"An' what I done say all the time 'bout that there Kent not being
+drownded? When the niggers came a whining 'roun' me a sayin' he was sho'
+daid 'cause they done had signs an' omens, I say ter them I done had mo'
+ter do with that there Kent than all of 'em put together an' I lak ter
+know what they be havin' omens 'bout him when I ain't had none. If'n
+they was any omens a floatin' 'roun' they would a lit on me an' not on
+that triflin' Buck Jourdan. He say he dream er teeth an' 'twas sho sign
+er death. I tell him mebbeso but 'twas mo'n likely he done overworked
+his teeth a eatin' er my victuals, a settin' 'roun' here dayanight a
+strummin' on his gittah, an' what's mo' I done tole him he better git
+the blacksmith ter pull out one er his jaw teeth what ain't mo'n a
+snaggle. Sukey low she goin' ter send him in ter Lou'ville ter one er
+these here tooth dentists, but I say the blacksmith is jes' as good a
+han' at drawin' teeth as they is, an' he chawge the same as ter shoe a
+mule, an' that ain't much."
+
+"But Aunt Mary, I should think if there is anything serious the matter
+with Buck's teeth he had better see a dentist. The blacksmith might
+break his tooth off."
+
+"Who? This here blacksmith? Lawsamussy, honey, why he's that strong an'
+survigorous that he would bust Buck's jaw long befo' he break his tooth.
+He'll grab hol' the tooth and put his knee in Buck's chist an' he gonter
+hol' on till either Buck or the tooth comes."
+
+A groan from the next room, the lean-to kitchen, gave evidence that Buck
+was in there, an unwilling eavesdropper since the method of the
+blacksmith on his suffering molar was the topic.
+
+"Don't you think the baby has grown, Aunt Mary?" asked Molly, mercifully
+changing the subject.
+
+"Yes, she done growed some an' she done growed prettier. I seed all the
+time she were gonter be pretty, an' when that there Paul came down here
+an' give it to me that the new baby looked lak a pink mummy--I done
+tol' him that I didn't know what a mummy were, but what ever it were,
+the new baby didn't look no mo' lak one than he did when he was born,
+'cause of all the wrinkly, scarlet little Injuns he would a fetched the
+cake. That done dried that there Paul up an he ain't been so bombast
+since bout the looks er no new babies." The old woman chuckled with
+delight in remembrance of her repartee.
+
+"Aunt Mary, I think you are feeling better, aren't you? You seem much
+more lively than when I saw you last."
+
+"'Cose I is feelin' better. Ain't we done heard good news from that
+there Kent?"
+
+"But I thought you knew all the time he was all right."
+
+"Well now, so I did, so fur as I knew anything, but they was times when
+I doubted, an' those times pulled me back right smart. Why, honey, I
+used ter pray the Almighty if he lacked a soul ter jes' tak me. I is a
+no 'count ole nigger on the outside but mebbe my soul is some good yit.
+If I could give up my life fur one er Miss Milly's chillun, I'd be
+proud ter do it!"
+
+"Oh, Aunt Mary, you have been so good to us always!"
+
+"Lawsamussy, chile! What I here fur but ter be good ter my white
+folks? They's been good ter me--as good as gole. I ain't never wanted
+fur nothin' an' I ain't never had a hard word from Carmichael or
+Brown, savin', of cose, Miss Sary. She is spoke some hard words in her
+day, but she didn' never mean nothin' by them words. I don't bear no
+grudge against po' Miss Sary. The good Lord done made her a leetle
+awry an' 'tain't fur me ter be the one ter try to straighten her out.
+Sometimes whin I lies here a thinkin' it seems ter me mebbe some folks
+is made lak Miss Sary jes' so they kin be angels on earth like yo'
+maw. Miss Sary done sanctified yo' maw. She done tried her an' rubbed
+aginst her, burnt her in de fire of renunciation and drinched her in
+the waters of reproachment until yo maw is come out refimed gold."
+
+"Maybe you are right, Aunt Mary. I am trying to be nicer about the way
+I feel about Aunt Clay myself. I think if I feel differently, maybe Aunt
+Clay would feel differently toward me. She does not like me, and why
+should she, since I don't really like her?"
+
+"I don't want ter take no Christian thoughts from yo' min' an' heart,
+honey chile, but the good you'll git from thinkin' kin' things 'bout
+Miss Sary will be all yo' own good. Miss Sary ain't gonter be no
+diffrent. She done got too sot in her ways. The leper ain't gonter
+change his spots now no mo'n it did in the time er Noah, certainly no
+ole tough leper lak Miss Sary."
+
+It was hard to tell the old woman good-by. Every time Molly left
+Chatsworth she feared it would be the last farewell to poor old Aunt
+Mary. She had been bedridden now for many months, but she hung on to
+life with a tenacity that was astonishing.
+
+"Cose, I is ready ter go whin the Marster calls," she would say, "but
+I ain't a hurryin' of him. A creakin' do' hangs long on its hinges an'
+the white folks done iled up my hinges so, what with good victuals
+with plenty er suption in 'em an' a little dram now an' then 'cordin'
+ter the doctor's subscription, that sometimes I don't creak at all. I
+may git up out'n this here baid 'fo long an' be as spry as the nex'. I
+wouldn't min' goin' so much if I jes' had mo' idee what Heaven is lak.
+I'm so feard it will be strange ter me. I don't want ter walk on no
+goldin' streets. Gold ain't no better ter walk on than bricks. Miss
+Milly done read me the Psalm what say: 'He maketh me to lay down in
+the green pastures.' Now that there piece sounds mighty pretty--jes'
+lak singin', but I ain't never been no han' to set on the damp groun'
+an' Heaven or no Heaven, I low it would give me a misery ter be a
+doin' it now; an' as fer layin' on it, no'm! I wants a good rockin'
+cheer, an' I wants it in the house, an' when I wants ter res' myse'f,
+a baid is good enough fer me."
+
+The old woman's theology was a knotty problem for all of the Brown
+family. They would read to her from the Bible and reason with her, but
+her preconceived notion of Heaven was too much for them. She believed
+firmly in the pearly gates and the golden streets, and freely announced
+she would rather have her own cabin duplicated on the other side than
+all the many mansions, and her own whitewashed gate with hinges made
+from the soles of old shoes than the pearly gates.
+
+"What I want with a mansion? The cabin whar I been a livin' all my life
+is plenty good enough for this old nigger. An' what's mo, blue grass a
+growin' on each side of a shady lane is better'n golden streets. I ain't
+a goin' ter be hard-headed bout Heaven, but I hope the Marster will let
+me settle in some cottage an' let it be in the country where I kin raise
+a few chickens an' mebbe keep a houndog."
+
+"I am sure the Master will let you have whatever you want, dear Aunt
+Mary," Molly would say.
+
+"But if'n he does that, I'll get too rotten spiled ter stay in Heaven.
+He better limit me some, or I'll feel too proudified even fer a angel."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WELLINGTON AGAIN.
+
+
+"Oh, it is nice to be back home," sighed Molly, settling herself
+luxuriously in the sleepy-hollow chair that was supposed to be set
+aside for the master of the house. With the girlish habit she had never
+outgrown, she slipped off her pumps and stretched out her slender feet
+to the wood fire, that felt very comfortable in the crisp autumn
+weather.
+
+"That's what you said when we arrived in Kentucky in the spring," teased
+her husband.
+
+"Well, so it was nice. The migratory birds have two homes and they are
+always glad to get to whichever one is seasonable. I reckon I am with my
+two homes as Mother is with her seven children. I love them just the
+same. Thank goodness, I haven't seven of them, homes, I mean."
+
+"Yes, I think two are enough."
+
+"Which home do you love best, Wellington or the Orchard Home?" asked
+Molly, smiling fondly at her husband, who was dandling little Mildred on
+his knees with awkward eagerness.
+
+"Why, neither one of them is home to me unless you are there, and
+whichever one you grace with your presence is for the time being the one
+I like the better."
+
+"And the baby, too, whichever one she is in makes it home!"
+
+"Oh, certainly!" exclaimed Edwin Green with a whimsical expression on
+his face. "I see that when I make love now it is to be to two ladies and
+not to one."
+
+"Don't you think Mildred has grown a lot? And see, her eyes have really
+turned brown, just as Mother said they would. Don't you think she looks
+well?"
+
+"Yes, honey, I think she looks very well, but I don't think you do."
+
+"Me! Nonsense! I am as well as can be, just a little tired from the
+trip."
+
+"Yes, I know. Of course that was fatiguing, but I think you are thinner
+than you have any right to be. I am afraid you have been doing too
+much."
+
+"Oh, not at all. I have had simply nothing to do but take care of the
+baby, and that is just play, real play."
+
+"Humph, no doubt! But maybe you have played too hard and that is what
+has tired you. I thought you were going to bring Kizzie along to nurse."
+
+"Oh, that was your and Mother's plan! I never had any idea of doing it.
+'Deed and um's muvver is going to take care of 'ittle bits a baby
+herself," and Molly reached out and snuggled the willing Mildred down in
+the sleepy-hollow chair. Daddy's knee was not the most comfortable spot
+in the world, and a back that has only been in the world about four
+months cannot stand for much dandling.
+
+"But, Molly darling, Kizzie is a good girl and it would help you ever so
+much to have her. You know we can well afford it now, so don't let the
+financial side of it worry you."
+
+"But, Edwin, I can't give up taking care of the baby. I just love to do
+it."
+
+"All right, my dear, but please don't wear yourself out."
+
+The fact was that the long strain of waiting for news from Kent had told
+on Molly, and she was looking quite wan and tired. It was not just the
+trip from Kentucky, which, of course, was no easy matter. Twenty-four
+hours on the train with an infant that needed much attention and got
+much more than it really needed was no joke, but the long hours and days
+of waiting and uncertainty had taken Molly's strength. She did feel
+tired and had no appetite, but she felt sure a night's rest would
+restore her. She rather attributed her lack of appetite to the poor food
+that the new Irish maid, whom Edwin had installed in her absence, was
+serving.
+
+"I'll take hold of her to-morrow and see what can be done," she said
+rather wearily to herself. "I wish Mother could train her for me. I
+should much rather do the cooking myself than try to train some one who
+is as hopelessly green as this girl."
+
+That night little Mildred decided was a good time to assert herself.
+The trip had not tired her at all; on the contrary, it had spurred her
+on to a state of hilarity, which was very amusing at first but as the
+night wore on, ceased to be funny. She had come to the delightful
+knowledge of the fact that she had feet and that each foot had five
+toes. The cover did not stay on these little pigs one moment. Every
+time Molly would settle her tired bones and begin to doze, there would
+be a crow from Mildred, a gurgle, and straight in the air would go the
+bed clothes, tucked in for the millionth time by the patient young
+mother. Then the pink tootsies would leap into sight and soon find
+their way to a determined little mouth.
+
+"Darling, you must go to sleepsumby!" Molly would remonstrate. "And you
+will catch your death if you don't keep covered up!"
+
+But the four months' old baby had been too busy in her short life
+learning other things to bother her head about a mere language. The
+business of the night was feet and feet alone. There was too much to do
+about those wonderful little feet for her to think of sleep. Finally
+Molly gave up. She closed the windows, as too much fresh air on bare
+feet and legs might not be best and already the little limbs were icy
+cold. Then she kindled a fire in the grate, the furnace not yet having
+been started, and gave herself up to a night of sleeplessness. Early in
+the action, Edwin had been banished to the guest chamber, as he must get
+sleep no matter what happened, for he had a busy day ahead of him.
+
+Toward morning little Mildred mastered her pedagogy, as her father had
+called it, and then she dropped off into a deep and peaceful sleep. The
+weary Molly slept, too.
+
+Before he went to his lectures, Edwin crept into the room to look at his
+sleeping treasures. The chubby baby still had a toe clasped in her hand
+but from very weariness had fallen over on her side and was covered up
+all but the pink foot, which was asserting itself in the remarkable
+position that only the young can take. Molly looked very pale and tired
+but was sleeping peacefully. Edwin smiled at them. He had given the
+green maid from the Emerald Isle strict orders not to awaken them. He
+devoutly hoped that Molly would not know what a very mean breakfast he
+had endeavored to choke down; burnt bacon and underdone biscuit washed
+down with very weak coffee and flanked by eggs that had been cooked too
+long and not long enough, thereby undergoing that process that the
+chemist tells us is of all things the most indigestible: half hard and
+half soft. The burnt bacon had been cold and the underdone biscuit still
+cooking, seemingly, when the poor young husband and father had tried to
+nourish himself on them.
+
+He had rather hoped when Molly once got back to Wellington that his food
+would be better; no doubt it would as soon as she, poor girl, could get
+rested up. He was thankful, indeed, now that she was asleep and tiptoed
+out of the room and house without making a sound.
+
+She slept until late in the morning and then the business of the day
+began, getting little Mildred fed and washed and dressed and fed again
+and then to sleep. The good-natured, if wholly incapable, Katy hung
+around and waited on the pretty young mistress. Katy had never been out
+in service in the "schtates," but had come from New York in answer to an
+advertisement in a newspaper inserted by the despairing professor when
+he had come back to Wellington alone while his wife waited in Kentucky
+for news of her brother. He had had kindly visions of getting a good
+Irish cook and having the housekeeping all running beautifully before
+Molly's return.
+
+Immigrant Katy proved rosy and willing but with no more conception of
+how to cook than she had how to clean. She was great on "scroobing,"
+but walls and furniture and carpets were not supposed to be scrubbed.
+The kitchen floor and pantry shelves were alike beautiful after her
+administrations, but gold dust and a stiff brush had not improved the
+appearance of the piano legs. Edwin had come home in the nick of time
+to stop her before she vented her energies on Molly's own Persian
+rug, the pride of her heart because of the wonderful blue in it.
+
+"What time is it, Katy?" asked Molly after the baby was absolutely
+finished and tucked in her carriage to stay on the porch.
+
+"'Tis twilve of the clock, Miss, and I haven't so much as turned a hand
+below schtairs."
+
+"Oh, it can't be that late! Lunch at one! What are we to have?"
+
+"And that I am not knowing, Miss. Sure and there is nothing in the
+house."
+
+"Oh, Katy, and I have been dawdling up here for hours! I forgot about
+keeping house, I was so taken up with the baby."
+
+"Yes, and no doubt your man will be sour about it, too."
+
+Molly, still in her kimono, flew to the regions below and began
+frantically to search for something to concoct into luncheon. A forlorn
+piece of roast veal was excavated and half a loaf of stale baker's
+bread. A can of asparagus, a leftover from the housekeeping of the
+spring, was unearthed. Olive oil was in the refrigerator, also, butter,
+milk and eggs. The veal looked very hopeless, evidently having reposed
+for hours in a half cold oven before it had furnished forth a miserable
+dinner for the poor professor.
+
+"Now I'll 'form a miracle on the vituals,' as dear Aunt Mary would say,"
+declared Molly to herself. "Katy, get the dining room straight. Don't
+scrub anything but just clear off the table and then set it again as
+well as you can. Put on a fresh lunch cloth and clean napkins; then see
+that the fire in the library is all right."
+
+The veal, run through the meat chopper, came out better than was to be
+expected, and croquettes were formed and frying in deep fat before the
+dazed Katy had cleared off the breakfast table.
+
+"Katy, you must hurry or we won't have the master's luncheon ready when
+he gets in."
+
+"Faith, and, Mrs. Green, you do be flying round so schwift like, that I
+can't get me breath. I feel like the wind from your schkirts was sinding
+me back. All I can do is schtand schtill and breast the wind."
+
+"Well, I tell you what you do then," laughed Molly: "You come fly with
+the wind," and she caught the Irish girl by the hand and ran her around
+the dining room table just to show her how fast she could go if
+necessary. Katy, having got wound up, kept on going at a rate of speed
+that was astonishing. To be sure, she broke a cup and a plate, but what
+was a little chaney to the master's luncheon being served on time?
+
+The faithful can of asparagus was opened and heated; toast was made from
+the half loaf of stale bread, and a cream sauce prepared to pour over
+the asparagus on toast. Popovers were stirred up and in the oven before
+Katy got the table set, although she was going with the wind instead of
+trying to breast it. A few rosy apples from the orchard at Chatsworth,
+unearthed from the depths of the unpacked trunk, formed a salad with a
+mayonnaise made in such a hurry that Molly trembled for its quality; but
+luck being with her that day, it turned out beautifully.
+
+"No lettuce, so we'll put the salad on those green majolica plates and
+maybe he won't notice," she called to Katy, just as the professor
+opened the front door.
+
+"Mol--ly!" he called.
+
+"Here I am."
+
+The mistress of the house emerged from the kitchen in a state of
+mussiness but looking very pretty withal, her red-gold hair curling up
+in little ringlets from the steam and her cheeks as rosy as though she
+had joost come over wid Katy. Her blue kimono was very becoming but
+hardly what she would have chosen to appear in at luncheon.
+
+"I am so sorry not to be dressed, but I had to hustle so as to get lunch
+ready in time. The clock struck twelve when I thought it was about ten."
+
+"Did you have to get luncheon? Where was Katy?"
+
+"She helped, but I wanted to have a finger in it. If you will wait a
+minute, I will get into a dress."
+
+"Why, you look beautiful in that loose blue thing; besides, I have to
+eat and run. A faculty meeting is calling me."
+
+The luncheon was delicious, and Edwin gave it all praise by devouring
+large quantities of it. Molly could not eat much as she was too hot, and
+hurrying is not conducive to appetite. Mildred, who was sleeping on the
+porch, awoke when the meal was half over and Molly could not trust Katy
+to take her up.
+
+"She might hold her upside down. I will bring her to the table and she
+can talk to you while you are finishing!"
+
+So Molly flew to the porch and picked up her darling. She had intended
+to take her to the dining room but she remembered it was time for
+Mildred to have her food and so the patient Edwin had to finish his meal
+alone.
+
+He found his wife and baby on the upper back porch. The color had left
+Molly's cheeks and she was quite pale, and there was a little wan,
+wistful look in her countenance that Edwin did not like.
+
+"Molly, honey, you are all tired out. You did not eat your luncheon and
+you got no sleep last night. What are we going to do about it?"
+
+"Oh, I'm all right! Please don't bother about me! Did you like the apple
+salad? They were apples from Kentucky."
+
+"Fine! Everything was delicious. But I don't want you to wear yourself
+out cooking. If Katy can't cook, we must get some one who can. If she
+can't cook and you won't let her nurse, why what is the use of her?"
+
+Molly, worn out with the sleepless night and the record breaking getting
+of a meal out of nothing, felt as though she would disgrace herself in a
+minute and burst into tears. She could not discuss the matter with Edwin
+for fear of breaking down. Edwin kissed her good-by and tactfully
+withdrew.
+
+"You goose, Molly Brown!" she scolded herself. "And what on earth are
+you so full of tears over? I know Edwin thinks I ought to have a nurse
+and I just can't trust Mildred to any one. I am going to try so hard to
+have everything so nice that he won't think about it any more."
+
+A grand telephoning for provisions ensued, and a dinner was planned for
+six-thirty that would have taxed the culinary powers of a real chef and
+before which Katy bowed her head in defeat. It meant that by four Molly
+must be back in the kitchen to start things.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+IRISHMAN'S CURTAINS.
+
+
+Callers came in through the afternoon to welcome back to Wellington the
+popular wife of the popular professor and to glimpse the new baby. Kind
+Mrs. McLean, the wife of the doctor, a little older than when last we
+saw her but showing it only in her whitening hair and not at all in her
+upright carriage and British complexion, stopped in "just for a moment"
+to be picked up later by the doctor on his way to a country patient.
+Miss Walker herself, the busy president of Wellington, ran in from the
+meeting of the faculty to greet her one time pupil and to give one kiss
+to the college baby. Several of the seniors, who were freshmen when
+Molly was still at college as post graduate and who had the delight of
+calling her Molly while most of the others had to say Mrs. Green, came
+in fresh from a game of basketball, glowing with health and enthusiasm.
+
+While these friends were all gathered about Molly and the baby, Alice
+Fern, Edwin Green's cousin, driving in to Wellington in a very stylish
+new electric car, stopped to make a fashionable call on her law kin. She
+had never forgiven Molly for stealing (as she expressed it) Edwin's
+affections. She was still Miss Fern, and although she was possessed of
+beauty and intelligence, it was likely that she would remain Miss Fern.
+Molly was never very much at her ease with Alice. She was particularly
+sensitive to any feeling of dislike entertained toward her, and Edwin's
+cousin always made her feel that she disapproved of her in some way.
+
+The living room in the broad old red brick house on the campus, occupied
+by the professor of English, was a pleasant room, breathing of the
+tastes and pursuits of the owners. Low bookshelves were in every nook
+and cranny, filled with books, the shelves actually sagging with them.
+Botticelli's Primavera, a present from Mary Stewart, adorned one wall;
+Mathew Jouette's portrait of Molly's great grandmother, a wedding
+present from Aunt Clay, another. This was the portrait that looked so
+much like Molly and also like the Marquise d'Ochtè, between whom and
+Aunt Sarah Clay there was no love lost; indeed, it was this likeness
+that had induced Aunt Clay to part with such a valuable work of art. The
+other pictures were some dashing, clever sketches by Judy Kean, and
+Pierce Kinsella's very lovely portrait of Mrs. Brown, that had won
+honorable mention at the Salon and then had been sent by the young
+artist to adorn Molly's home. On the whole, it was a very satisfactory
+and tastefully furnished room and Molly and Edwin always declared they
+could talk better and think better in that room than in any they had
+ever seen.
+
+On that first day home, Molly was a little conscious of the fact that
+the room needed a thorough cleaning, not the scrubbing that Katy was so
+desirous of administering, but just a good thorough cleaning. However,
+she was so glad to see her friends again and so proud of showing her
+wonderful baby to them that the cleaning seemed of small importance.
+
+"I'll dust all the books to-morrow," she said to herself, "and have Katy
+wipe down the walls, polish the glass on the pictures, and above all,
+wash the windows."
+
+She well knew that Miss Walker and dear Mrs. McLean were not noticing
+such things, or, if they did, they would make all excuses. As for the
+college girls--dirt was not what they came to see. They came to see the
+lovely Molly and her adorable baby. If the walls were festooned with
+cobwebs, why that was the way walls should be in the home of a learned
+professor of English, who had written several books, besides the
+libretto to a successful opera, and who was married to a beautiful
+Titian-haired girl who was also a genius in her way, having been
+accepted in magazines when she was not even out of college. What did
+they care for dust on the books and smeary window panes? Molly was so
+popular with the college girls that in their eyes she was perfection
+itself.
+
+Alice Fern's entrance broke up the cheerful group gathered around Molly
+and the rosy Mildred. Miss Walker suddenly remembered that she had an
+important engagement and hurried off, and Mrs. McLean, who made no
+endeavor to hide her impatience at Miss Fern's exceeding smugness, went
+outside to wait for the doctor. The girls stayed, however, hoping to sit
+out the unwelcome interrupter.
+
+These girls were favorites of Molly's. The harum scarum Billie McKym
+from New York reminded her in a way of her own Judy, although no one
+else could see it. Josephine Crittenden, Tom boy of college and leader
+in all sports, hailed from Kentucky, and being a distant relative of
+Crittenden Rutledge, Mildred Brown's husband, was of course taken
+immediately under the wing of the loyal Molly. She had what she called a
+crush on Molly, and not a little did she amuse that young matron, as
+well as annoy her, by her gifts of flowers and candy.
+
+The third girl was from the West. Thelma Olsen was her name, and
+although her family had been in America for three generations, Thelma
+had inherited the characteristics of a Viking maiden along with the
+name. She was very tall, with an excellent figure and the strength of
+a man. Her hair was as yellow as gold and her eyes as blue as corn
+flowers. She moved with dignity, holding her head up like a queen. Her
+expression was calm and kindly. She had, in very truth, worked her way
+through college, which of course appealed to Molly, remembering well her
+own boot blacking days and her many schemes for making a few pennies.
+But what most touched our Molly was the fact that Thelma had a writing
+bee in her bonnet. The girl had an instinct for literature and a longing
+for expression that must come out. Professor Green thought very highly
+of her gift for prose and did much to encourage her.
+
+These three girls formed a strange trio, but they were inseparable,
+having roomed together since their freshman year. Billie was very rich
+in her own name, since she was an orphan with nothing closer than a
+guardian and an aunt-in-law. Money meant no more to her than black-eyed
+peas. She was intensely affectionate and where she loved, she loved so
+fiercely that it positively hurt, she used to say. She was witty and
+clever but not much of a student, as is often the case where learning
+comes too easily. She was so generous it was embarrassing to her
+friends. Her talent lay in clothes. She knew more about clothes than
+Paquin and Doucet and all the others. It positively hurt her when her
+friends did not wear becoming clothes, just as it hurt her when she
+loved them so hard. The object of her life was to clothe her dear friend
+Thelma in dark blue velvet. Thelma was too proud to be clothed in
+anything that she had not paid for herself, and the consequence was that
+coarse blue serge was as near as she came to poor Billie's dream.
+
+Alice Fern seated herself on the front of a chair with very much of
+a lady-come-to-see expression and then formally entered into a
+conversation, going through the usual questions about when Molly had
+arrived and how old the baby was, polite inquiries regarding the
+relatives in Kentucky, etc.
+
+Molly was eager to get into the kitchen just for a moment to start Katy
+on the right track, well knowing that nothing would be doing until she
+did, but Alice Fern's arrival made that impossible. She would not in the
+least have minded excusing herself for a moment to the girls, but if
+Edwin Green had to wait until midnight for his dinner, she could not be
+guilty of such a breach of etiquette with the cousin-in-law, whose
+disapproval she felt was ever on the alert for a _raison d'être_. A leg
+of lamb, and well grown lamb at that, must have plenty of time and the
+oven must be hot (something Katy knew nothing about), but the wife of
+Professor Green must not let his relatives know that she was such a poor
+manager as to have to leave the parlor to attend to cooking at a time in
+the afternoon when callers were supposed to be doing their calling.
+
+Alice Fern was really a very pretty young woman, and since she had
+nothing to do but attend to her person, she was always excellently well
+groomed. No blemish was allowed on her faultless complexion from sun or
+wind. An hour a day was religiously given up to massage and manicure.
+Her hair was always coiffed in the latest mode, and not one lock was
+ever known to be out of place. Her costume was ever of the richest and
+most stylish.
+
+On that afternoon, as she rode up in her closed electric car, dressed in
+a fawn-colored suit with spotless white gloves and spats, she really
+looked like a beautiful wax figure in a showcase. Beside her, poor Molly
+looked like a rumpled Madonna. She had on a very becoming blue linen
+house dress that she had donned as not only suitable for possible
+callers but also not too pure or good in which to cook her husband's
+food. The baby had delighted the admiring audience, before the arrival
+of Miss Fern, by clutching a handful of her mother's pretty hair and
+having to have her little pink fingers opened one by one to disengage
+them. No doubt it was a highly intelligent and charming performance, but
+it had played sad havoc with Molly's hair.
+
+"We are so glad you are back, Molly, for more reasons than one,"
+exclaimed Jo Crittenden, hoping to loosen the tension a little, when
+Alice had completed her perfunctory catechism. "When are you going to
+begin the Would-be Authors' Club?"
+
+"Oh, do begin soon!" begged Billie. "Thelma has turned out some
+scrumptious bits during vacation, and even I have busted loose on
+paper."
+
+"Yes, I have written a lot this summer," said Thelma, as Molly smiled on
+her. "Have you done anything, or has the baby kept you too busy?"
+
+"Oh, I had plenty of time while I was in Kentucky. You see, out there I
+have a very good servant and then my mother helps me with Mildred. I
+have finished a short story and sent it off. Of course, I am expecting
+it back by every mail."
+
+"I should think your household cares would prevent your giving much time
+to scribbling," sniffed Alice, if one could call the utterances of such
+an elegant dame sniffing.
+
+"Scribbling! Why, Mrs. Green has written real things and been in real
+magazines," stormed Billie.
+
+"Ah, indeed!"
+
+"Yes, and if we had not limited the Would-be Authors to twenty, we would
+have the whole of Wellington clamoring to join," declared Jo, who
+considered it was high time for a perfect gentleman to step in and let
+Miss Alice Fern know how Wellington felt toward Mrs. Edwin Green.
+
+Miss Fern said nothing but stared at the corner of the room that Edwin
+and Molly called: "The Poet's Corner." It was where all the poetry,
+ancient, medieval and modern, found shelf room. Over it hung
+Shakespeare's epitaph, a framed rubbing from the tomb, the same that
+Edwin had always kept over his desk in his bachelor days to scare his
+housekeeper, Mrs. Brady, into sparing his precious papers.
+
+     "Good frend for Isus sake forbeare
+      To digg ye dust encloased heare
+      Bleste be ye man yt spares thes stones
+      And curst be he yt moves my bones."
+
+She kept her eyes so glued to the spot over the book shelves that
+finally all turned involuntarily to see what she was gazing on so
+intently. There it hung! There was no denying it or overlooking it: a
+great black cobweb that must have been there for several generations of
+spiders. No doubt it had taken all summer to weave such a mighty web and
+catch and hold so much grime.
+
+Molly blushed furiously. For a moment, she almost hated Katy and she
+wholly hated Alice Fern. That elegant damsel had a supercilious
+expression on her aristocratic countenance that said as plainly as
+though she had given utterance to her thoughts:
+
+"Author's Club, indeed! She had much better clean her house."
+
+Molly was suddenly conscious that every corner was festooned with
+similar webs. The late afternoon sun was slanting in the windows and its
+searching rays had found and were showing up every grain of dust. The
+panes of glass were, to say the least, grimy.
+
+"Oh!" she faltered, "I didn't know it was so--so--dusty in here. Katy,
+the new maid, was supposed to have cleaned it before I came."
+
+"What do you care for a few Irishman's curtains?" said the
+hero-worshipping Billie. "No one noticed them until--ahem--until the
+sun came in the window." She _said_ sun came in the window but she
+plainly _meant_ Fern came in the door.
+
+"I haven't had time to do much housekeeping since I got back," continued
+Molly, lamely. "The new maid, Katy, that Edwin got from New York, is
+most inefficient but so good-natured that I am hoping to train her. The
+truth of the matter is that she and I spent the whole morning doing
+things for Mildred and we let the house go. I am going to have a big
+cleaning to-morrow."
+
+Molly felt like weeping with mortification and she began to hate herself
+for making explanations and excuses to Alice Fern. Even if she kept
+Professor Green's house festooned in cobwebs from attic to cellar and
+had dust over everything thick enough to write your name, what business
+was it of this perfect person? She suddenly realized, too, that that
+perfect person had never uttered a word although she had looked volumes.
+
+Miss Fern arose from her prim seat and made a rather hasty retreat. The
+relieved Molly excused herself to the girls and rushed to the kitchen to
+start Katy on the dinner that should have been on half an hour before.
+What was her chagrin to find the fire only just kindled, as Katy had let
+it go out so that she might polish the stove. The Irish girl was on her
+knees "scroobing," happy in a sea of soap suds.
+
+Molly almost had hysterics. How could she ever get things done? Edwin
+would be home any moment now and she could not stand having a miserable
+underdone dinner for him, nor could she stand having his dinner hours
+late. She realized that there was no use in reprimanding Katy,--the girl
+was simply ignorant. She asked her gently to postpone her "scroobing"
+until later and to wash her hands and prepare the vegetables. Then she
+piled kindling wood in the range until the chimney roared so that Katy
+said it sounded like a banshee. The oven must be hot for the roast.
+
+"I tell you what to do, Katy: make some tea immediately and slice some
+bread quite thin, open this box of peanut cookies, and we will have such
+a grand tea that the master won't be hungry until the roast is done."
+
+"And phwat a schmart trick!" laughed the girl.
+
+When Miss Fern made her adieux, Molly had flown so quickly to the
+kitchen that she had not seen her husband crossing the campus. Alice
+Fern had seen him, however, and her greeting of him was so warm and
+friendly, her smile so charming and her manner so cordial that she
+hardly seemed the same person who had just left poor Molly stuttering
+and stammering apologies over her Irishman's curtains.
+
+"Look at the pill!" exclaimed Jo. "She is about to eat up Epiménides
+Antinous Green." That was the name Professor Green was known by at
+Wellington.
+
+"Did you ever see any one cast such a damper over a crowd without saying
+a single word? I thought Molly was going to cry," declared Billie.
+
+"I think our friend is looking very tired," said Thelma. "I wish we
+could do something for her. She says this new maid is almost worse than
+none at all."
+
+"I've got a scheme!" squealed Billie. "I know of a way to help. Gather
+'round me, girls!" And then such another whispering as went on in the
+house--while Molly behaved like triplets in the kitchen, being in at
+least three places at one time in her determination to get dinner on the
+stove. Mildred lay on the divan, happy with her newly found toes, and
+Edwin helped Alice Fern into her glass show case.
+
+"I appreciate your coming to see my wife so soon, Alice. I should so
+like to have you and Molly be close friends."
+
+"Thank you, Edwin, I am sure nothing would please me more. You must
+bring Molly out to see us." Could this be the same person who had made
+the living room look so dusty and ill kempt only a few minutes before,
+this gracious, charming, sweet, friendly creature, who doted on babies?
+She had paid no attention to Mildred except to give her a tentative poke
+with her daintily gloved finger, but to hear her conversation with
+Edwin, one would have gathered that she was a supreme lover of children.
+
+The girls would not stay to tea, although Molly pressed them, but full
+of some scheme, they hurried off.
+
+Dinner was not so very late, after all, and the tea and bread and peanut
+cookies saw to it that the professor was not too hungry before the leg
+of lamb had reached the proper stage of serving. Molly was too much of a
+culinary artist not to feel elated when things turned out right, which
+they usually did if she could get her finger in the pie. The day had
+been a very trying one for her. The sleepless night had left her little
+strength to grapple with it and the slow stupidity of Katy was very
+irritating. It was over at last, however, and dear little Mildred had
+decided to let her pigs rest and had gone quietly to sleep at the
+proper time that a well-trained infant should. Edwin was smoking his
+after-dinner pipe and everything was very peaceful and pleasant. Molly
+was trying to keep her eyes open, ashamed to confess that she was so
+sleepy she could hardly see.
+
+She lay back in the easy chair while Edwin read aloud from his scrap
+book of fugitive verse. This scrap book Professor Green had started when
+he was in college, putting in only the rare, fine things he found in
+magazine reading. Molly had helped him in his collecting and now the
+volume was assuming vast proportions.
+
+Suddenly Molly's upturned eyes rested on the terrible cobweb that had
+been her Waterloo of the afternoon. How black and threatening it looked!
+She hoped Edwin would not see it. And the books! Actually you had to
+open one and beat it and blow it before you dared begin to read. All
+this must be cleaned to-morrow and oh, how tired she was!
+
+"Did not Alice look lovely this afternoon?" said Edwin, stopping his
+reading for a moment. "I hope you and she are going to be great
+friends. I think it was very nice for her to come so soon to call on
+you. She spoke so sweetly of the baby, too."
+
+Molly said nothing but gazed at the cobweb. She said nothing but she did
+some thinking:
+
+"Molly Brown, what right have you, just because you are tired and Alice
+Fern came to call on you, looking very pretty and very beautifully
+dressed, and found you all frumpy and your living room looking like
+a pig sty, what right have you, I say, to sulk? Now you answer your
+husband and tell him Alice was pretty and don't tell him anything else."
+Accordingly, after giving herself the mental chastisement, Molly emitted
+a faint:
+
+"Yes, very pretty!" But it was so faint and so far away that Edwin
+looked at her in alarm, and then it was that she could stand nothing
+more and broke down and shed a few tears.
+
+"Why, Molly, my dearest girl, what is the matter?"
+
+"Nothing, but I am tired and everything is so dirty. Look at the
+cobwebs! Look at the dust on the books! Look at me! I am an old frowsy,
+untidy frump."
+
+"You! Why, honey, you are always lovely. As for dust--don't bother about
+that. Let me read you this wonderful little poem by Gertrude Hall. I
+clipped it years ago."
+
+Professor Green saw that Molly was tired and unstrung and he well knew
+that nothing soothed her more than poetry. Of course, man-like, he had
+no idea that what he had said about Alice Fern's looking so sweet had
+been too much for her, as she had contrasted herself all the afternoon
+with her husband's immaculate cousin. Molly wiped away the foolish tears
+as Edwin read the poem.
+
+
+"THE DUST.
+
+By Gertrude Hall.
+
+    It settles softly on your things,
+      Impalpable, fine, light, dull, gray;
+    The dingy dust-clout Betty brings,
+      And, singing, brushes it away:
+
+    And it's a queen's robe, once so proud,
+      And it's the moths fed in its fold,
+    It's leaves, and roses, and the shroud,
+      Wherein an ancient Saint was rolled.
+
+    And it is beauty's golden hair,
+      And it is genius' wreath of bay,
+    And it is lips once red and fair
+      That kissed in some forgotten May."
+
+"It is lovely, exquisite!" breathed Molly. "I don't feel nearly so bad
+about it as I did."
+
+But she did wish that Alice Fern had not seen that black, black cobweb.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+HEROES AND HERO WORSHIPERS.
+
+
+The next morning poor Molly slept late again. With all good intentions
+of waking early and going down stairs in time to see about her husband's
+neglected breakfast, when morning came she did not stir. Mildred had
+given her another wakeful night after all, finding out more things about
+her little pigs. Finally the little monkey had given up and dropped off
+to sleep, and she and her doting mother were both dead to the world when
+the time came for Professor Green to go to lectures.
+
+Again he gave instructions to Katy not to disturb the mistress and crept
+out of the house as still as a mouse. Breakfast had been a little
+better. Molly was rubbing off on Katy evidently. Just to associate with
+such a culinary genius as Molly must have its effect even on the worst
+cook in the world, which Katy surely seemed to be.
+
+Coming across the campus, he ran into Billie McKym, Josephine Crittenden
+and Thelma Olsen. They looked very bright and rosy as they gave him a
+cheery good morning. Each carried a bundle. He wondered that they were
+going away from lecture halls instead of toward them. But after all, it
+was not his business to be the whipper-in for lectures. Wellington was a
+college and not a boarding school. If students chose to cut lectures, it
+was their own affair until the final reckoning.
+
+"Just our luck to meet Epiménides Antinous!" cried Billie. "He should
+have been out of the house five minutes ago, at least."
+
+"His legs are so long he doesn't have to start early," declared Jo.
+"Just see him sprint!"
+
+"I am certainly sorry to cut his lecture to-day," sighed Thelma, "but
+this thing must be done."
+
+The Greens' front door was never locked except at night, so the girls
+crept quietly in. Billie peeped into the kitchen, where she discovered
+Katy on her knees "scroobing" the part of the kitchen she could not
+finish the evening before, when Molly was so hard-hearted as to make
+her stop and prepare vegetables. Such a sea of suds!
+
+"Katy," whispered Billie.
+
+"Merciful Mither! And phwat is it? Ye scart me," and the girl sat back
+on her heels and looked at Billie with round, wide eyes.
+
+"We are great friends of Mrs. Green and we have come to dust her books
+and--ahem--do a few little things. Is she still asleep?"
+
+"Yis, and the master was after saying she must not be distoorbed, not on
+no account."
+
+"Of course she must not be! That is why we have come to dust the things.
+We think she looks so tired."
+
+"And so she is, the scwate lamb; but she do fly around so, and she do
+cook up so mooch. I tell her that she thinks more of her man's insides
+thin she do of her own outsides."
+
+"Well, Katy, we want you to let us have a broom and a wall brush. We
+brought our own aprons and rags," and Billie pressed a round, hard
+something into Katy's hand. It was not so large as a church door nor
+so deep as a well, but it served to get the Irish girl up off of her
+run-down heels; and in a trice the coveted broom and wall brush were in
+possession of the three conspirators, as well as a stepladder, which
+they decided would be needful.
+
+"Don't say a word to Mrs. Green, Katy,--now remember. We are going to
+work very quietly and hope to finish before she gets downstairs. We
+don't want her to know who did it, but we mean to get it all done
+before noon," said Jo, rolling up her sport shirtsleeves and disclosing
+muscular arms, that showed what athletics had done for her and what she
+could do for athletics.
+
+"Where must we begin, Thelma?" asked Billie, who was as willing as could
+be but knew no more about cleaning than a hog does about holidays, Jo
+declared.
+
+"Begin at the top," laughed Thelma, tying up her yellow head in a great
+towel and rolling up her sleeves.
+
+"Gee, your arms are beautiful!" exclaimed Billie. "I'd give my head for
+such arms. I'd like to drape them in a silver scarf. Think how they
+would gleam through." The arms were snow white and while Thelma's
+strength was much greater than Jo's, her muscles did not show as they
+did on that athletic young person.
+
+Thelma blushed and laughed as she balanced herself on a stepladder and
+began taking down pictures. A cloud of dust floated down and enveloped
+her.
+
+"Look, look! She looks like the 'white armed Gudrun'! Don't you remember
+in William Morris's 'Fall of the Neiblungs'? The battle in Atli's Hall?
+
+    "'Lo, lo, in the hall of the Murder where the white-armed
+            Gudrun stands,
+      Aloft by the kingly high-seat, and nought empty are her
+            hands;
+      For the litten brand she beareth, and the grinded war-sword
+            bare:
+      Still she stands for a little season till day groweth white
+            and fair.
+      Without the garth of King Atli, but within, a wavering
+            cloud
+      Rolls, hiding the roof and the roof-sun; then she stirrith
+            and crieth aloud.'"
+
+"Cut it out! Cut it out!" cried Jo, "and come lend a hand."
+
+"Mustn't we dust before we sweep?" innocently asked Billie.
+
+"If you want to, but you'll have to dust again afterwards," said the
+white-armed Gudrun from her ladder. "The books are really so dirty that
+I don't think it would hurt to wipe down the walls without covering
+them, but that is a mighty poor cleaning method. Poor Molly! Didn't she
+look tired yesterday? I hope she won't think we are cheeky to take a
+hand in her affairs."
+
+"Cheeky! She will think we are her good friends, not like that snippy
+Miss Fern who stared so at the cobwebs and then went out and palavered
+over Epiménides Antinous. She used to claim him, so I am told. One of
+the nurses at the infirmary told me that when Epi Anti had typhoid
+there, years ago, Miss Fern came and dressed herself up like a nurse and
+almost bored the staff to death taking care of her sick cousin," said
+Billie, delighted with the job that had been given her of wiping down
+walls. "Isn't this splendid? Just look at all the dirt I got on my
+rag!"
+
+"Well, don't rub it back on the wall," admonished Jo.
+
+"No. Well, what must I do with it?"
+
+"Can't say, but don't put it back on the walls."
+
+"Jo, you and Billie dust the books and I will finish up the pictures.
+I can't trust myself to dust Professor Green's books. I am afraid of
+breaking the tenth commandment all the time," sighed Thelma. "I'll wash
+the windows, too."
+
+"Oh, Thelma! The white-armed Gudrun sitting in windows washing them!
+That's not occupation meet for a queen. Let me do it."
+
+"You, Billie McKym, wash a window! Did you ever wash one in your life?"
+
+"Well, no, not exactly, but I bet I could. What's the use of a college
+education if one can't wash windows when she gets to be a full grown
+senior?"
+
+But since the object of the girls was to get the room clean, it was
+decided that Thelma was to wash the windows. My, how they worked! Jo
+found she had muscles that her athletics had never revealed. She found
+them because they began to ache.
+
+"Why, to dust all these books and books is as bad as building a house,"
+she said, straightening up and stretching when she had finished the
+poet's corner.
+
+"Exactly like laying brick," declared Billie. "I'm going to join the
+Hod-carriers' Union. I'll be no scab."
+
+Katy had occasionally poked her head in at the door, entreating "whin
+they coom to the scroobing" to call her.
+
+The cleaners made very little noise, so little that the sleeping Molly
+and Mildred were not at all disturbed.
+
+"I wish she knew it was almost done," said Thelma, perched in the window
+sill and rubbing vigorously on a shining pane. "She would be so glad. I
+know she is worrying about it in her sleep. Hark! There is the baby!"
+
+Then began the business of the day upstairs. Katy was called, for water
+must be heated as Katy, according to her habit, had let the fire go out
+before the boiler was hot.
+
+"Katy, we must hurry up with Mildred this morning and get to the
+library. It is filthy," said Molly, as she slipped the little French
+flannel petticoat over Mildred's bald head.
+
+"Yes, mum!" grinned Katy.
+
+"We have luncheon almost ready, with the cold lamb to start with."
+
+"Yes, mum."
+
+"Don't you think you could get the dining room cleaned while I am
+attending to the baby?"
+
+"Yes, mum, if yez can schpare me."
+
+"Oh, I think I can. But, Katy, before you go hand me that basket. And,
+Katy, perhaps you had better wash out this flannel skirt. I am so afraid
+she might run short of them. You can empty the water now--and, Katy,
+please hold the baby's hand while I tie this ribbon, she is such a
+wiggler--and, Katy--a little boiled water now for her morning tipple.
+She must drink lots of water to keep in good health."
+
+"Yes, mum, and how aboot breakfast for yez, mum?"
+
+"Oh, I forgot my breakfast! Of course I must eat some breakfast. I'll
+come down to it."
+
+"Oh, no, mum! And let me be after bringing it oop to yez, mum," insisted
+the wily Katy, who was anxious for the youthful house cleaners to
+accomplish their dark and secret mission without interruption. Not only
+was it great fun, a huge joke, in fact, for her to be paid fifty cents
+to let others do her work, but it meant that since others were doing it,
+she would not have to, and she could have just that much more time for
+"scroobing" and resting. A tray was accordingly got ready and Molly
+found she had a little more appetite than the morning before; also, that
+Katy's food was really a little better.
+
+"Your coffee is better this morning, Katy," she said, believing that
+praise for feats accomplished but egged on the servitor to other and
+greater effort.
+
+"Yes, mum, so the master said."
+
+"Poor Edwin," thought Molly, "how I have neglected him. I must do
+better. But if I don't wake up, I don't wake up. If I could only get a
+little nap in the day time. Mother always wanted me to take one, but how
+can I? The living room must be cleaned to-day." She felt weary at the
+thought. Accustomed as she was to being out of doors a great deal, she
+really needed the fresh air.
+
+"As soon as luncheon is over, we must get busy with the cleaning. I wish
+we might have done it in the forenoon, but I am afraid it is too late."
+
+"Yes, mum, it's too late!" and Katy indulged in such a hearty giggle
+that her mistress began to think perhaps she was feeble-minded as well
+as inefficient.
+
+"Is the table in the dining room cleared off, Katy, so you can set it
+for luncheon?"
+
+"No, mum, it is not!"
+
+"Oh, Katy! What have you been doing all morning?"
+
+"Well, mum, I scroobed my kitchen, and--and----"
+
+"And what?" demanded Molly.
+
+"And I did a little head work in the liberry, that is, I----"
+
+"Oh, Katy, did you clean the living room, clean it well?"
+
+"Well, mum, yez can wait and see if it schoots yez," and Katy beat a
+hasty retreat to warn the cleaners that the mistress was about to
+descend.
+
+The room presented a very different appearance to what it had before the
+girls rolled up their sleeves. The slanting afternoon sun would seek out
+no dusty corners now; everything was spick and span. The books no longer
+had to be beaten and blown before you dared open them, and they stood in
+neat and orderly rows; the walls held no decorations in the shape of
+Irishman's curtains now; the picture glass shone, as did the window
+panes; the rugs were out in the back yard sunning after a vigorous
+beating and brushing from Thelma, whom Billie called "the powerful
+Katrinka."
+
+The floor, being the one part of the room that Katy had put some licks
+on, did not need anything more serious than a dusting after everything
+else was done.
+
+"Katy, you might bring in the rugs now as we have done everything else,"
+suggested Billie. Katy went out into the back yard and bundled up the
+rugs. Molly, seeing her from an upper window, smiled her approval.
+
+"I believe she is going to do very well," she said to herself. "She
+seems to be trying, and she is so fond of Mildred."
+
+"Come on, girls, we must hurry and get off! Molly will be down stairs
+any minute now and she must not see us," and Thelma unwound the towel
+from her head and took off her apron.
+
+"Well, surely the white-armed Gudrun is not going across the campus with
+a black face," objected Billie. "Why, both of you look like negro
+minstrels----"
+
+"And you!" interrupted Jo. "You should see yourself before you talk
+about kettles. You'd have not a leg to stand on and not a handle to your
+name. I told you to tie up your head. I believe nothing short of a
+shampoo and a Turkish bath will get the grime off you."
+
+"Let's hide behind the sofa and after Molly goes on the porch with the
+baby, we can sneak up to the bath room," suggested Thelma. The girls
+then crouched on the floor behind a sofa that stood near the poet's
+corner.
+
+In a minute Molly came down the stairs, little Mildred in her arms and
+on her face a contented and rested expression. She stood in the doorway
+of the living room and exclaimed with delight over its polished
+cleanliness.
+
+"Oh, Katy, how splendid it is! Did you do it all by yourself and in such
+a short time? I don't see how you managed it. Why, you have even dusted
+the books. That is almost a day's work in itself. I was dreading it
+so,--it is such a back breaking job."
+
+Jo rubbed her aching back, with a grim smile, and nudged Billie.
+
+"And you have kept yourself so clean, too!" Molly began to feel that she
+had the prize servant of the east: one who could clean such an Augean
+Stable as that room had looked, dust all the books, wash the windows and
+wipe down walls, beat rugs, polish picture glass, etc., etc., and still
+be neat and tidy. "Why, I would have been black all over if I had done
+such a great work."
+
+Katy stood by, quite delighted with the undeserved praise. The young
+ladies had told her not to tell and far be it from her to refuse to
+accept the unaccustomed praise from any one. She had never been very apt
+in any work she had undertaken and no one had ever taken any great pains
+to teach her, and now if this pretty lady wanted to praise her, why she
+was more than willing. She felt in her pocket for her fifty cent piece,
+that still seemed a great joke to her. The sweet taste of the praise did
+one great thing in her kindly Irish soul: it was so pleasant, she
+determined to have more of it, and through her slow intelligence there
+filtered the fact that to get more praise, she must deserve more praise,
+and to deserve it she must work for it. She beat a hasty retreat to the
+dining room and actually cleared off the table, where the master had
+eaten his solitary breakfast, in a full run. She broke no dishes that
+morning, either, which was a great step forward.
+
+Molly could not tear herself away from the wonder room. She moved
+around, busying herself changing ornaments a bit and placing chairs at
+a slightly different angle, doing those little things that make a room
+partake of a certain personality.
+
+"Here, baby, lie on the sofa, honey. Muddy is going to give you a little
+ride. Do you know, darling, that Katy knows how to put things in place
+just like a lady? She must have an artistic soul. Look how she has
+arranged the mantel-piece! Servants usually make things look so stiff.
+Actually there is nothing for me to do in the room, she has done it so
+beautifully."
+
+Billy here dug an elbow into Jo's lame back that almost made her squeal,
+but she held on to her emotions and in turn gave her chum a fourth
+degree pinch.
+
+"Now, Muddy is going to ride her baby--this sofa must go closer to the
+wall," and Molly put Mildred on the sofa and gave it a vigorous push.
+The law of impenetrability, that two things cannot be in the same place
+at the same time, prevented the baby from having much of a ride. Molly
+gave a harder push. "I must be very feeble if I can't budge this sofa."
+
+Then came a smothered groan from the huddled girls, and one by one they
+emerged from their corner, clutching their bundles of dust rags and
+aprons and exposing to Molly's amazed eyes three of the very blackest,
+dirtiest faces that ever Wellington had boasted in her senior class.
+
+They sat on the floor and laughed and giggled, and Molly sat down beside
+them and would have felt like a college girl again herself if it had not
+been for little Mildred, who took all the laughter as an entertainment,
+got up for her express amusement, and gurgled accordingly.
+
+"Now you must all stay to luncheon!" cried the hospitable Molly.
+
+"Oh, indeed we mustn't," said Billie, who never could quite get used to
+Molly's wholesale hospitality, having been brought up in the lap of
+luxury but with no privileges of inviting persons off hand to meals.
+
+"But you must. I won't do a thing for you but just put on more plates.
+I was going to have the very simplest meal and I'll still have it."
+
+The girls stayed, after giving themselves a vigorous scrubbing, and
+Molly's luncheon was ready when Professor Green arrived. The cold leg of
+lamb played a noble part at the impromptu party, flanked by a lettuce
+salad that Billie insisted upon dressing, reminding Molly more than ever
+of her darling Judy. A barrel of preserves had just arrived, some that
+Molly and Kizzie had put up during the summer. On opening it, a jar of
+blackberry jam, being on top, was chosen to grace the occasion. Molly
+made some of the tiny biscuit that her husband loved and that seemed
+such a joke to Katy. When she came in bearing a plate of hot ones, she
+spread her mouth in a grin so broad that Professor Green declared she
+could easily have disposed of six at one mouthful.
+
+"I always call them Gulliver biscuit," he said, helping himself to three
+at a time, "because in the old Gulliver's Travels I used to read when I
+was a kid there was a picture of Gulliver being fed by the Lilliputians.
+He was represented by a great head, and the Lilliputians were climbing
+up his face by ladders and pouring down his throat barrels of little
+biscuit that were just about the size of these."
+
+They had a merry time at that meal. Molly told her husband why his prize
+pupils had cut his lectures and all others that morning, and how she had
+almost passed a steam roller over them in form of the library sofa.
+
+"We were terribly afraid we would offend her," explained Thelma, "but
+she was dear to us."
+
+"Offend me! Why, I can't think of anything in all my life that has ever
+happened to me that has touched me more. I don't see how you ever
+thought of doing anything so nice."
+
+"'Twas Billie," from Thelma.
+
+"Thelma and Jo did all the dirty work," declared Billie.
+
+"Dirty work, indeed! You looked as though you had used yourself to wipe
+down the walls with," laughed Jo.
+
+"Well, anyhow, when that snippy Miss Fern comes again, giving her
+perfunctory pokes at the baby and looking at the cobwebs until nobody
+can help seeing them, I bet she won't find anything to turn up her nose
+at. I'd like to use her to clean the walls with. If there is anything I
+hate it is any one who is the pink of perfection in her own eyes. We
+were having such a cozy time until she lit on us with her dove-colored
+effects. Who cared whether there were cobwebs or not?"
+
+"Did Miss Fern speak of the cobwebs?" asked Edwin, while the others sat
+around in frozen horror, remembering that she was his cousin and that he
+was evidently very fond of her.
+
+"Oh, no, she didn't open her lips; she just pursed them up and stared
+at the corner. Of course, she had already given her dig about Molly's
+surely not having time to write and attend to her house, too; and then
+when she fixed her eyes on that Irishman's curtain we all knew what she
+was thinking, and that she wanted us to know it, just as well as though
+she had spoken it and then written it and then had it put on the
+minutes.... What's the matter?... Oh, Heavens! What have I done?... Oh,
+Professor Green! She is your cousin! Please, please forgive me," and
+Billie clasped her hands in entreaty.
+
+"Oh, don't mind me," said the professor with a twinkle. "Go as far as
+you like. If the ladies have such open minds that he who runs may read,
+and they think disagreeable things about my wife, why, they deserve to
+be used for house cleaning purposes, have the floor wiped up with them
+and what not."
+
+The luncheon broke up in a laugh and evidently there were no hard
+feelings on the part of the host for the criticism of Miss Fern that
+had so ingenuously fallen from the lips of the irrepressible Billie.
+
+"Billie! What a break!" screamed Jo, when they got outside after Molly
+had given them all an extra hug for the undying proof of friendship they
+had given her.
+
+"Break, indeed! I never forgot for an instant that Epi Anti was a near
+cousin to that maidenhair fern. I just thought I'd let him know how
+she had acted and how uncomfortable she had made our Molly feel. I
+knew Molly would never let him know, and I could do it and make out it
+was a break."
+
+"Well, if you aren't like Bret Harte's heathen Chinee, I never saw one,"
+laughed Thelma.
+
+    "'Which I wish to remark,
+      And my language is plain,
+      That for ways that are dark
+      And for tricks that are vain,
+      The heathen Chinee is peculiar.'"
+
+"All the same, I bet old Epi Anti doesn't tell Molly any more what a
+sweet thing Alice Fern is."
+
+"How do you know he did?"
+
+"Insight into human nature," and Billie made a saucy moue.
+
+"Gee, my back aches!" said Jo. "I think I'll do housework often. It
+certainly does reach muscles we don't know about. But didn't it pay just
+to see dear old Molly's face when we rolled out from behind the sofa?"
+
+And all of them agreed it had.
+
+"Edwin," said Molly, after the girls had gone, "I think I'll send for
+Kizzie to come help me. I may put her in the kitchen and take Katy for a
+nurse."
+
+"Good! I am certainly glad you have come to that decision. What changed
+you?"
+
+"Well, it seems to me that when it comes to the pass that my college
+girls feel so sorry for me they cut such lectures as yours to give the
+whole morning to cleaning up for me I must do something, and the only
+thing I can think of doing is to send for Kizzie."
+
+"Can you mix the black and white without coming to grief?"
+
+"Remember, Katy is more green than white, and she is so good-natured,
+she could get along with anything."
+
+"I can't tell you how relieved I am, honey. I wanted you to do what
+pleased you, but I could not see how I was coming in on this. I felt
+very lonesome, and while I wasn't jealous of the baby, I was certainly
+envious of her. If Kizzie comes, you can be with me more and nurse me
+some."
+
+"Yes, dearie, I missed it, too, but somehow I couldn't get through. If
+Katy had been more competent----"
+
+"But she wasn't and isn't."
+
+"No, she certainly isn't, but she adores Mildred already and Mildred
+actually cries for her. I believe she would make a fine nurse. If only
+she doesn't feel called upon to scrub the baby."
+
+Edwin laughed and, settling himself for a pleasant smoke, opened the
+morning paper, which neither he nor Molly had found time to read.
+
+"Oh, what a shame!" he exclaimed. "The Germans dropping bombs on Paris!
+Infamous!"
+
+"Paris! How can they? Oh, Edwin, Judy and Kent both there!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.
+
+
+When the teller of a tale has to fly from one side of the ocean to the
+other in the twinkling of an eye, as it were, at any rate between
+chapters, and the persons in the tale have no communication with one
+another except by letters that are more than likely to be tampered with
+on the high seas, it is a great comfort to find that all the characters
+have at last arrived at the same date. On that morning after the
+dropping of bombs when Judy, dressed in her sad mourning garb, was
+selling spinach and tarts to the hungry occupants of the Montparnasse
+quarter, Molly, allowing for the difference in time, was oversleeping
+herself after a wakeful night and the college girls were quietly
+cleaning her living room. Kent and Jim Castleman were stretching
+themselves luxuriously in the not too comfortable beds of the _Haute
+Loire_ preparatory to making themselves presentable, first to find
+Judy, and then to find the general who, no doubt, would be glad to have
+the Kentucky giant enlist in the ranks, even though his letter of
+introduction and credentials had gone to the bottom with the _Hirondelle
+de Mer_. Jim Castleman's appearance was certainly credential enough that
+he would make a good fighter.
+
+A bath and a shave did much towards making our young men presentable.
+Kent with a needle and thread, borrowed from the chambermaid, darned the
+knees of his trousers so that they did very well just so long as he did
+not try to sit down; then the strain would have been too much. Jim's
+were hopelessly short.
+
+"Nothing but a flounce would save me, so I'll have to go around at high
+water mark; but I'll soon be in a uniform, I hope."
+
+They had breakfast in a little café where Kent had often gone while he
+was a student at the Beaux Arts, and there Jim Castleman astonished the
+madame by ordering four eggs. She couldn't believe it possible that any
+one could eat that much _déjeuner_ and so cooked his eggs four minutes.
+His French was quite sketchy but he plunged manfully in with what he had
+and finally came out with breakfast enough to last until luncheon. Kent
+was willing to do the talking for him but he would none of it.
+
+"Let me do it myself! I'll learn how to get something to eat if I starve
+in the attempt."
+
+And now for Judy! Kent could hardly wait for his famished friend to eat
+his two orders of rolls and coffee and his four eggs, but at last he was
+through.
+
+First to the bank! No, they did not know where Mlle. Kean was. She had
+been in once to get money but they were sorry they could not honour her
+letter of credit. She had left no address.
+
+Then to the American Club! Judy had been in the day before for mail, and
+had had quite a budget. She had left no address, but came for letters
+always when the American mail was reported in.
+
+Where could she be?
+
+Next, to his cousin, the Marquise d'Ochtè, on the Faubourg!
+
+The venerable porter, at the porte-cochère, who came in answer to the
+vigorous ring that the now very uneasy Kent gave the bell, said that
+none of the family was within and they had no visitor. Madame the
+Marquise had gone to the front only the day before, but was coming home
+soon to open a hospital in her own home. Even then the workmen were busy
+carrying out her orders, packing away books, pictures, ornaments, rugs
+and what not so that the house would be the more suitable to care for
+the wounded. The Marquis and Philippe were both with their regiments.
+The old porter was sad and miserable. Jules, the butler, was gone; also
+Gaston, the chef whose sauces were beyond compare. Madame had taken
+great hampers of food with her, even going to Montparnasse for tarts
+from Tricots'.
+
+Kent turned sadly away. Judy was somewhere, but where? Her letter to
+Molly telling of her being in the Bents' studio had come after Kent
+left Kentucky and he had no way of knowing that she was there. Polly
+Perkins and his wife, he knew were in the thick of the battle from the
+first letter he had seen from Judy. Where was Pierce Kinsella? He had
+not heard from his studio mate and friend but he rather thought there
+was little chance of finding him. At any rate, he determined to go to
+the Rue Brea and see if the concierge there knew anything of the lost
+damsel.
+
+They found a crowd at the entrance to the court on which the studios
+fronted. The concierge in the midst of them was waving her arms and
+talking excitedly.
+
+"Yes, and the first I heard was a click! click! click! and that, it
+seems, was the terrible thing flying over us and then an explosion that
+deafened me. They say it was meant for the Luxembourg and they missed
+their mark. That I know nothing about----"
+
+"What is it? Tell me quick!" demanded Kent, elbowing his way through the
+crowd with the help of Jim, that renowned center rush.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur Brune!" she exclaimed, grasping his hand. "Did you know
+that a dirty Prussian had sent a bomb right down through the skylight of
+the good Bents' and now all their things are wrecked?"
+
+"The Bents'!" gasped Kent. "Was any one hurt?"
+
+"And that we can't say. The young lady has not been sleeping there
+lately but yesterday she came and got the key and did not return it, so
+I thought she must have slept there last night! This morning we can find
+no trace of her. The bomb did much damage, but surely it could not have
+destroyed her completely."
+
+"Destroyed her! What young lady?"
+
+"Why, Mademoiselle Kean, of course."
+
+Kent was glad of the strong arm of Jim Castleman. He certainly needed a
+support but only for a moment. He pushed through the crowd and made his
+way to the shattered wall of the studio. The bomb had not done so much
+damage as might have been expected. The front wall was fallen and the
+skylight was broken all over the floor. The chairs and easels were
+piled up like jackstraws at the beginning of a game. The bedrooms were
+uninjured but the balcony where Judy and Molly had slept that happy
+winter in Paris had fallen.
+
+Would Judy have slept up on the roost just for auld lang syne or would
+she have occupied a more comfortable bedroom? If she had been blown into
+such small bits that there was nothing to tell the tale, why should
+these other things have escaped? There were the blue tea cups in the
+china closet uninjured, although most of them were turned over, showing
+that the shock had reached them, too. What was that blue thing lying on
+the divan in the corner under untold débris?
+
+Kent pulled off the timbers and broken glass and unearthed Judy's blue
+serge dress, which was waiting to be dyed a dismal black. He clasped it
+in his arms in an agony of apprehension. Letters fell out of the pocket.
+He recognized his mother's handwriting, also Molly's. So, Judy had
+heard from Kentucky! He stuffed them back in the jacket.
+
+"Jim, I simply don't believe she was here. I couldn't have slept all
+night like such a lummux if she--if she----"
+
+"Yes, old fellow! I know! I don't believe she was here, either."
+
+"I just know I would have had some premonition of it! I would have been
+conscious of it if anything had been happening to Judy," which showed
+that Kent Brown was his mother's own son. He was not going to mourn the
+loss of a loved one until he was sure the loved one was gone, and he had
+her own unfailing faith that something could not have happened to one he
+cared for without his being aware of it.
+
+"Sure you would!" declared Jim, not at all sure but relieved that his
+friend was taking that view of the matter.
+
+"I know something that will be a positive proof whether she was here or
+not last night." Kent walked firmly to the bath room, which was behind
+the bed rooms and out of the path of the bomb. He threw open the door
+and looked eagerly on the little glass shelf for a tooth brush.
+
+"Not a sign of one. I know and you know that if Judy had been here last
+night her tooth brush would have been here, too. I am sure now! Come on,
+and let's look somewhere else."
+
+Kent went out with Judy's serge dress over his arm. The concierge looked
+sadly after him: "Her dress is all he has to cherish now. The poor young
+man! I used to see he was in love with her when Mrs. Brune was in the
+Bents' studio and her son occupied the one to the right with Mr.
+Kinsella. Oh, la la! _Mais la vie est amer!_"
+
+The crowd dispersed, since there was nothing more to see and the hour
+for _déjeuner a la fourchette_ was approaching. The concierge went off
+to visit her daughter who was ill. The studios were all empty now and
+her duties were light. Her husband was to see that no one entered the
+court to carry off the Bents' things, which were exposed pitifully to
+the gaze of the public until the authorities could do something. He,
+good man, waited a little while and then made his way to a neighbouring
+_brasserie_ to get his tumbler of absinthe, and one tumbler led to
+another and forgetfulness followed soon, and the Bents' studio
+properties were but dreams to his befuddled brain.
+
+Judy had spent a busy morning. Marie had gone to carry tarts to "the
+regiment" and all of the waiting in the shop fell on her. She did it
+gladly, thankful that she was so busy she could not think. She measured
+soup and weighed spinach and potato salad and wrapped up tarts until her
+back ached. Finally Mère Tricot came in from the baking of more tarts.
+
+"My child, go out for a while. You need the air. I am here now to feed
+these gourmands."
+
+"All right, Mother! I want to get my dress at the studio. Marie says she
+will dye it for me."
+
+"Certainly! Certainly! We can save many a sou by doing it ourselves. Go,
+child!"
+
+Judy put on her little mourning bonnet and sadly found her way to the
+Rue Brea.
+
+"I wonder where the bomb hit last night. Père Tricot said near the
+Luxembourg."
+
+What was her amazement to find the poor studio in ruins. No concierge to
+tell her a thing about it, for her lodge was locked tight and no one
+near. Judy picked her way sadly over the fallen front wall.
+
+"I'll get my dress, anyhow." But although she was sure it had been on
+the divan in the studio, no dress was to be found.
+
+"Well, I'll have to have something to wear besides this thin waist. I am
+cold now, and what will I do when winter, real winter comes? I shall
+have to send to Giverny for my trunk, and no telling what it will cost
+to get it here. Oh, oh, how am I to go on? I wish to God I had been
+sleeping on that balcony when the bomb struck. Then I would have been at
+peace."
+
+Judy gave herself up to the despair that was in her heart. She made a
+thorough search for the suit through the poor wrecked apartment but no
+sign of it could she see. She went sadly back to the delicatessen shop
+and stepped behind the counter, her hat still on, to assist the good
+Mother Tricot, who was being besieged with customers.
+
+"Take off your hat, child. Here is a fresh cap of Marie's and an apron.
+Did you get your dress?"
+
+Judy told her kind friend of the bomb-wrecked studio and her lost suit.
+
+"Oh, the vandals! The wretches! There must be a Prussian in our midst
+who would be so low as to steal your suit. No Frenchman would have done
+it. Before the war,--yes, but now there is not one who would do such a
+dastardly trick. We are all of one family now, high and low, rich and
+poor,--and we do not prey on one another."
+
+"Well, it makes very little difference," said Judy resignedly. "I'll
+send for my trunk. I have other suits in it."
+
+"Other suits! Oh, what riches!" but then the old woman considered that
+the friend of the Marquise d'Ochtè perhaps had many other suits.
+
+Judy donned the cap and apron and went on with the shop keeping. No one
+could have told her from a poor little bereaved French girl. The cap
+was becoming, as was also the organdy collar. Her face was pale and her
+eyes full of unshed tears, but the sorrow had given to Judy's face
+something that her enemies might have said it had lacked: a softness and
+depth of feeling. Her friends knew that her heart was warm and true and
+that the feeling was there, but her life had been care free with no
+troubles except the scrapes that she had been as clever getting out of
+as she had been adroit getting in. She had many times considered herself
+miserable before but now she realized that all other troubles had
+been nothing--this was something she had had no conception of--this
+tightening of the heart strings, this hopeless feeling of the bottom
+having dropped out of the universe.
+
+She felt absolutely friendless, except for her dear Tricots. The Browns
+could never see her again. They must blame her, as it was all her fault
+that Kent had come for her. If she had not been so full of her own
+conceit, she would certainly have sailed for America when all the others
+did at the breaking out of the war. Her mother and father seemed as
+remote as though they were on another planet. The war might last for
+years and there seemed no chance of their leaving Berlin.
+
+"I'll just stay on here and earn my board and keep," she sighed. "The
+Tricots find me useful and they want me."
+
+In the meantime, Kent and Jim Castleman went and sat down in the Garden
+of the Luxembourg to smoke and talk it over, Kent still fondly clasping
+the serge dress.
+
+"I'll find her all right before night," declared Kent. "She'll be sure
+to go to the Bents' studio sometime to-day. I'll write a note and leave
+it with the concierge. I'll also leave a note at the American Club. She
+must go there twice a week at least. I'd like to know where the poor
+little thing is," and Kent heaved a sigh.
+
+"I bet she is all right, wherever she is," comforted Jim. "Say, Brown,
+I don't like to mention it, but I am starved to death."
+
+"Not mention it! Why not?"
+
+"Well, you see when a pal is in trouble it seems so low to go get
+hungry."
+
+"But I'm not in trouble. Now if I thought that Judy had been in that
+place last night there would be something to be troubled about, but as
+it is, I just can't find her for a few hours, or maybe minutes. Where
+shall we eat?"
+
+"That's up to you. I'm getting mighty low in funds, so let's do it cheap
+but do it a plenty," and Jim looked rather ruefully at his few remaining
+francs.
+
+"I am still in funds but I shall have to go it mighty easy, too, to get
+Judy and me home. I tell you what we might do. Let's go to a shop where
+they have ready cooked food and bring it out here and eat it. They say
+you can live on half what it costs to eat in a restaurant. When I was
+studying over here I knew lots of fellows who lived that way. Of course,
+they had studios where they could take the stuff and eat it, but the
+Luxembourg Garden is good enough. I know a place where the Perkinses
+used to deal. They are the funny lot I told you about, the long-haired
+man and the short-haired woman. He is driving an ambulance now and
+goodness knows where she is."
+
+"Well, let's go to it. I am so hungry I can hardly waddle. These
+Continental breakfasts with nothing but bread and coffee don't fill me
+up half way."
+
+Kent smiled, remembering the two full orders and the four eggs his
+friend had tucked away, but he said nothing. Having a good appetite of
+his own, he had naught but sympathy for his famished friend.
+
+They left the garden and made for the shop where Jo and Polly Perkins
+had bought their ready cooked provisions.
+
+"These people make some little pies that are mighty good, too. We might
+get half a dozen or so of them as a top off," suggested Kent.
+
+"Fine! I've got a mouth for pie, all right."
+
+Judy had gone to the kitchen for a moment to bring to the fore the
+smoked tongue that Père Tricot had been slicing in those paper-thin
+slices that he alone knew how to accomplish. She bore aloft a great
+platter of the viand, the even slices arranged like a wreath of autumn
+leaves. While she was still in the living room behind the shop, two
+strangers entered. Their backs being to the light, Judy only saw their
+silhouettes as they bent over the show cases eagerly discussing what
+selection of meats and vegetables they should make, while Mère Tricot,
+accustomed to slim-pocketed customers, patiently waited. Suddenly she
+leaned over the counter and touched something which one of the young men
+had thrown over his arm.
+
+"What is this?" she demanded with the manner she could so well assume,
+that of a woman of the Commune who meant to right her wrongs.
+
+The purchaser of sauce and potato salad, the two cheapest and most
+filling of the wares, held up rather sheepishly a blue serge suit.
+
+"Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle! Come quick! It is your suit--and no
+Frenchman, as I said, but a Prussian, no doubt."
+
+The grenadier slid quickly from behind the counter and putting her
+brawny arm out, held the door firmly, so that no escape could be
+possible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+WASTED DYE.
+
+
+Judy emerged from behind the curtains which divided the family living
+room from the little shop, the platter of tongue held high. In her cap
+and apron, she reminded one of a Howard Pyle illustration for some
+holiday number of a magazine.
+
+"Gee, what a beaut!" exclaimed the taller of the two strangers.
+
+The one with the serge suit dropped it and made a rush for the girl. He
+had her in his arms, platter of tongue and all, before Mère Tricot could
+rescue it. But that dame managed to extricate the big dish before any
+greater damage was done than disarranging the effect of a wreath of
+autumn leaves.
+
+Hearts that were broken may be mended but platters of smoked tongue
+must not be dropped on the floor and smashed.
+
+"Oh, Judy gal, Judy gal! Tell me all about it!"
+
+"Kent! Kent! I thought you were drowned and have gone into mourning for
+you," sobbed Judy.
+
+As for Jim Castleman, in the most execrable and impossible French, he
+was explaining to good Mother Tricot how it all happened, and Father
+Tricot hastened to the shop from his carving to find out what it was all
+about, and then such a handshaking and hugging as ensued was never seen!
+
+"We were all about to sit down to _déjeuner a la fourchette_," said the
+ever hospitable old man, "and if the young gentlemen would come with us,
+we should be much honoured."
+
+The grenadier was equally pleased to have them and, indeed, Jim
+Castleman was so hungry by that time that he would have eaten cold
+spinach with his fingers.
+
+How that old couple plied the young Americans with their delightful
+food and how they listened to their tale of shipwreck and rescue! When
+Kent told of their fooling the Prussians with Tutno, the childish
+language they had known in their youth, the Tricots laughed with such
+glee that a gendarme put his head in the door to see what it was all
+about. When Jim Castleman in a speech that sounded more like Tutno than
+Parisian French, informed his hosts that he was there to join the army
+of Joffre, old Mère Tricot helped him to two more tarts, although he had
+already eaten enough of them to furnish dessert for any ordinary French
+family of four.
+
+"And now, Madame," said Kent to his hostess, "I want you to do another
+thing for me. You have done so many things already that maybe I should
+not ask you."
+
+"What is it, mon brave?" and the old woman smiled very kindly on the
+young American, whom she had not half an hour before called a Prussian
+and accused of stealing Judy's serge suit.
+
+"I am to be married very soon and I want you to help me out in it."
+
+"Married!" Judy gasped.
+
+"Yes, Miss Judy Kean, I am to be married and so are you. What's more, it
+is to be just as soon as the French law will tie the knot."
+
+"Well, of all----"
+
+"Yes, of all the slippery parties, I know you are the slipperiest and I
+have no idea of letting you get away. Am I right, Jim?"
+
+Jim was too busy with a tart to be coherent. He nodded his head,
+however, and when Kent put the same question to Mère Tricot in French,
+she upheld him.
+
+"It would be much more convenable if you were married. It is very easy
+to get married in war time. The authorities are not near so difficult to
+approach on the subject. I will see what can be done by the magistrate
+who married Jean and Marie, and no doubt if you interview your American
+Ambassador, much can be attended to in a short time."
+
+"Kent Brown, if you think----" sputtered Judy.
+
+"I don't think a thing, I just know," said Kent very calmly. "Put on
+your hat, honey, and let's take a little walk."
+
+"Well, all right--but----" Was this the Judy Kean who prided herself on
+so well knowing her own mind, calmly consenting to be married against
+her will? Was it against her will? She suddenly remembered the
+communings she had had with herself, in which she had cried out to Kent:
+"Why, why, did you not make me go with you?"
+
+"I shall have to rip the lining out of my hat before I can go out," she
+said quite meekly.
+
+"The lining out of your hat?" questioned Kent.
+
+"Yes, you see I went into mourning when--when----" and Judy, now that it
+was all over, still could not voice the terrible thing she thought had
+happened to Kent.
+
+"Please don't rip it out until I see you in it. Not many men live to see
+how their widows look mourning for them."
+
+"Widows, indeed! Kent Brown, you presume too much!" exclaimed Judy, but
+she could not help laughing. The hat was very becoming and she was not
+loathe to wear it, just once.
+
+First Mère Tricot must be assisted with the dishes, however; but then
+Judy got ready to go walking with Kent.
+
+Père Tricot undertook to be guide to Jim Castleman, offering to lead him
+to the proper place to enlist.
+
+"I'll only look into it to-day," said Jim, grasping Kent's hand. "I
+shan't join for keeps until I have officiated as best man."
+
+Judy, who had gone into Marie's tiny bedroom to get into her rescued
+serge suit, overheard this remark and blushed to the roots of her fluffy
+hair. As she put on her white lined hat, she peeped again into the
+mirror: "Judy Kean, you are much too rosy for a widow," she admonished
+her image.
+
+Mère Tricot saw them off, her good man and Jim to the recruiting
+station, and Kent and Judy to the Luxembourg Gardens, a spot hallowed by
+lovers.
+
+"Well, well!" she said to herself. "The good God has brought the poor
+lamb her lover from the grave. I am glad, very glad,--but it is
+certainly a pity to waste all that good dye the butcher's wife saved for
+us. It is not good when kept too long, either. I won't throw it out yet
+a while, though,--some one will be wanting it, perhaps."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+A WAR BRIDE.
+
+
+Marrying in Paris was certainly a much easier matter than it had been
+almost two years before when Molly Brown and Edwin Green had struggled
+to have the nuptial knot tied. Judy's baptismal certificate was not
+demanded as had been Molly's, and the long waiting for research work, as
+Kent expressed it, was not required. Mère Tricot undertook to engineer
+the affair and did it with such expedition that it could have been
+accomplished even before Judy got her trunk from Giverny.
+
+It was very nice to have one's trunk again, although it really was
+embarrassing to take up so much of the Tricots' living room with the
+huge American affair.
+
+"It seems funny to be married without any trousseau," Judy confided to
+Mère Tricot.
+
+"No trousseau! And what is in that great box if not trousseau?"
+
+"I am sure I don't know. I really haven't any clothes to speak of that I
+can remember," declared Judy.
+
+"Well, let us see them!" begged Marie and her belle mère.
+
+They were dying of curiosity to peep into the great box, so Judy
+unpacked for their benefit, and their eyes opened wide at her stack of
+shirt waists and lingerie and her many shoes.
+
+"Two more suits and a great coat, silk dresses--at least three of
+them--and skirts and shirts of duck and linen!" exclaimed Marie. "And
+hats and gloves--and blouses enough for three! Not many war brides will
+boast such a trousseau."
+
+So our bride began to feel that in comparison to the little Marie, she
+had so much that she must not worry about wedding clothes. Instead, she
+divided her store of riches, and making up a bundle with a silk dress
+and some blouses and lingerie, a suit and a hat, she hid it in Mère
+Tricot's linen press for Marie to find when she, Judy, was married and
+gone over the seas.
+
+She well knew that the French girl would not accept the present unless
+it were given to her in a very tactful way, and just to find it in the
+linen press with her name on it and the donor out of reach seemed to
+Judy the most diplomatic method.
+
+Madame le Marquise d'Ochtè must be looked up again. Not only were Kent
+and Judy very fond of her, but they knew they could not show their faces
+to Mrs. Brown unless they had seen her dear Sally Bolling. This time
+they found her in the old home in the Faubourg. She had been to the
+front and come back to get her house in readiness for the wounded.
+
+Could this be the gay and volatile Marquise, this sad looking,
+middle-aged woman? She had grown almost thin during those few months of
+the war. Her beautiful Titian hair was now streaked with grey. Judy
+remembered with a choking feeling the first time she had come to the
+Ochtè home on that night soon after Molly and her mother had arrived
+in Paris, when they had dined in the Faubourg and then gone to hear
+_Louise_ at the Opera. The Marquise had been radiant in black velvet and
+diamonds, a beautiful, gay woman that one could hardly believe to be the
+mother of Philippe. She had looked so young, so sparkling. She had said
+at one time that she allowed no grey hairs to stay in her head, but had
+her maid pull them out no matter how it hurt. Now it would take all a
+maid's time to keep down the grey hairs in that head, and would leave
+but a scant supply for a coiffure could they be extracted.
+
+Kent thought she looked more like his mother and loved her for it. Her
+greeting was very warm and her interest great in what Judy and Kent had
+been doing and what they meant to do. She received them in the great
+salon that had been converted into a hospital ward. All of the Louis
+Quinze furniture had been stored away in an upper chamber and now in its
+place were long rows of cots. The floor was bare of the handsome rugs
+which had been the delight and envy of Judy on former visits, and now
+the parquetted boards were frotted to a point of cleanliness that no
+germ would have dared to violate.
+
+"I left the pictures for the poor fellows to look at--that is, those
+who are spared their eyesight," she said sadly. "My hospital opens
+to-morrow, but I want the privilege of giving a wedding breakfast to you
+young people. I can well manage it in the small _salle à manger_. That
+is left as it was."
+
+"Oh, you are so kind, but dear old Mère Tricot is making a great cake
+for us and she would be sad indeed if she could not give the breakfast,"
+explained Judy.
+
+"That is as it should be," said the Marquise kindly, "but am I invited?"
+
+"Invited! Of course you are invited, and the Marquis and Philippe if
+they can be got hold of."
+
+"They are still in camp and have not gone to the fore, so I will manage
+to reach them. Jean is very busy, drilling all the time, but a family
+wedding must be attended. Philippe is learning to fly," and she closed
+her eyes a moment as though to shut out the remembrance of accidents
+that happen all the time to the daring aviators.
+
+Judy wondered if he had come in contact with Josephine Perkins, but said
+nothing as it was a deep secret that Jo was passing off as a man and a
+word might give her away.
+
+"There are many Americans in the aviation camp, and very clever and apt
+they are, Philippe says. I am proud of my countrymen for coming forward
+as they are."
+
+"Yes, I think it is great for them to. I--I--think I ought not to marry
+Kent and go off and leave so much work to be done. I ought to help.
+Don't you think so, Cousin Sally?" asked Judy.
+
+The Marquise smiled at Judy's calling her cousin, smiled and liked it.
+Kent looked uneasy and a little sullen. Suppose his Judy should balk at
+the last minute and refuse to leave the stirring scenes of war! What
+then? He had sworn not to return to United States without her, and
+unless he did return in a very short time, the very good job he had
+picked up in New York would be filled by some more fortunate and less
+in love young architect.
+
+"Why, my dear, it is not the duty of all American girls to stay on this
+side and nurse any more than it is the duty of all American men to stay
+here and fight. Only those must do it who are called, as it were, by the
+spirit. You must marry my young cousin and go back to United States, and
+there your duty will begin, not only to make him the brave, fine wife
+that I know it is in you to make, but also to remember suffering France
+and Belgium. There is much work waiting for you. This war will last for
+years, thanks to that same Belgium who threw herself in the breach and
+stopped the tide of Prussians flowing into France. If it had not been
+for Belgium, the war would have been over now--yes, over--but France
+would have been under the heel of the tyrant and Belgium off of the map.
+Thank God for that brave little country!" and Judy and Kent bowed their
+heads as at a benediction.
+
+Kent kissed the Marquise for her sensible advice. He very well knew that
+Judy would have been a great acquisition to his cousin's hospital, and
+that workers were not numerous (not so plentiful at the beginning of the
+war as they were later). Her advice was certainly unselfish. He thanked
+her, also, for realizing that it was not up to all American men to stay
+and fight. He had no desire to fight any one unless his own country was
+at war, and then he felt he would do his duty as his ancestors had done
+before him.
+
+"I tell you what we'll do, you children and I: I'll order out the car--I
+still keep one and a chauffeur so that with it I can bring the wounded
+back to Paris--and we will go out to the aviation camp and see Philippe
+and ask him to the wedding. You would like to see the camp, eh?"
+
+"Above all things!" exclaimed Kent and Judy in chorus.
+
+The broad grassy field, bordered by houses, sheds and workshops,
+presented a busy scene as the Ochtè car drove up. Biplanes were parked
+to one side like so many automobiles at a reception in a city, or
+buggies at a county seat on court day in an American town. The field was
+swarming with men, all eagerly watching a tiny speck off in the blue sky
+in the direction of the trenches where the French had called a halt on
+the Germans' insolent and triumphant march to Paris.
+
+No more attempt was made to stop the car of Madame the Marquise from
+coming into the aviation camp than there would have been had she been
+Joffre himself.
+
+"They know me very well," she said in answer to Kent's inquiry as to
+this phenomenon, as he well knew they were very strict about visitors in
+camp. "I am ever a welcome guest here, not only because they know I love
+them, but because of something I bring." She pointed to a great hamper
+of goodies packed in by the chauffeur.
+
+The car was surrounded by eager and courteous young aviators and
+soldiers, and Kent and Judy well knew it was not all for the _gateaux_
+that the Marquise was so beloved. Philippe was summoned and clasped in
+his mother's arms. Her heart cried out that every time might be the
+last.
+
+The Marquise was changed but her son even more so. His dilettantish
+manner was gone for good, as was also his foppish beard. His face, clean
+shaven except for a small moustache, was brown and lean; his mouth had
+taken on purpose; his eyes were no longer merely beautiful but now had
+depth of expression and a look of pity, as though he had seen much
+sorrow.
+
+He was greatly pleased to see his cousin Kent and also Miss Kean, who,
+of course, he thought had gone back to America long ago. He remembered
+Judy always as the young lady he came so near loving. Indeed, he would
+have addressed her when Molly Brown had refused him, had he not been
+made to understand by his fair cousin how important it was to love with
+one's whole soul if married happiness was to be expected. He had, after
+that, gone very slowly in possible courtships. Molly's friend, Frances
+Andrews, had almost been his choice, but there was something of
+fineness lacking in her that deterred him in time, and he was in a
+measure relieved when that dashing young woman proceeded to marry an
+impoverished Italian prince. His mother was relieved beyond measure at
+what she could not but look on as her Philippe's escape. In fact, she
+had never seen but one girl she thought would be just right for her
+beloved son and that was Molly Brown.
+
+Philippe was told of Kent's being shipwrecked and of Judy's having taken
+up her abode with the Tricots. This last bit of information amused him
+greatly. Judy told with much sprightliness of her serving in the shop
+and of her learning to make tarts. Philippe began to look upon his
+cousin Kent as a very lucky dog. He sighed when he promised to come to
+the wedding breakfast, that is, if he could get leave. Why did all of
+the charming American girls pass him by?
+
+"_J'ai la France et ma mère_," he muttered, as his arm crept around the
+waist of that beloved mother.
+
+"What are they all looking at so intently?" asked Judy.
+
+"Why, that is a daring young American aviator who has gone to seek some
+information concerning the trenches of our friends the enemy. He is a
+strange, quiet little fellow. No one ever gets a word out of him but he
+has learned to manage his machine quicker than any of the nouveaux, and
+now is intrusted to carry out all kinds of dangerous orders. He looks
+like a boy sometimes and sometimes when he is tired, like a strange
+little old man. He is not very friendly but is quick at repartee and so
+the fellows let him alone. Speaks French like a Parisian. I have seen
+him before somewhere, but can't place him. I asked him once and he was
+quite stiff and said I had the advantage of him. Of course I didn't like
+to force myself on him after that, but I'd really like to be friendly if
+he would let me. See, here he comes! Look!"
+
+They watched in silence the aeroplane sinking in a lovely spiral glide.
+As it sank to rest on the greensward, many hands were outstretched to
+assist the grotesque little figure to alight. Judy recognized in an
+instant the person she had thought all the time Philippe was describing.
+It was, of course, Jo Bill Perkins. She was swathed in a dark leather
+coat and breeches, with a strange shaped cap coming down over her ears.
+The great goggles she wore could not deceive Judy.
+
+"What is his name?" she asked Philippe.
+
+"Williams is all I know, J. Williams."
+
+"I believe I know him. Would you mind taking him my card and asking him
+to come speak to me?"
+
+"Not a bit, but I don't believe he will come. Let him make his report
+first, and then I will tell him you are here. You are very charming and
+fetching, Mademoiselle, but I doubt your being able to bring Williams to
+your feet."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE FLIGHT.
+
+
+Judy felt that perhaps she was not quite fair to Jo to test her by this
+interview, but she did long to speak to her. If Kent and Cousin Sally
+recognized her, she knew full well she could trust them to keep silent.
+
+Philippe crossed the field and stopped the daring little aviator just
+after he had made his report to the commander.
+
+"A young lady is asking for you."
+
+"A young lady for me? Absurd!"
+
+"Yes, she has heard of your wonderful feats and longs to meet you,"
+teased Philippe; and then added: "Really, Williams, you are superb."
+
+"Not at all! Well, I am tired and don't want to meet any young ladies."
+
+"But this one already knows you," and Philippe produced Judy's card.
+
+"Miss Julia Kean," Jo read in amazement. "How did she get out here,
+anyhow? Where is she?"
+
+"Over here with my mother," and Philippe looked with some amusement at
+the evident blush that spread over Jo's freckled cheeks. She still had
+on the grotesque cap and goggles which would have made recognition of
+her difficult. She wanted very much to see Judy. She wanted to hear
+something of her Polly, too, and she intended to have Judy look him up
+if possible, and report to her.
+
+"Will you see her?"
+
+"Sure!"
+
+"Miss Kean is a charming girl, Williams, isn't she?" said the quizzing
+Philippe, looking searchingly at his companion as they made their way
+across the field.
+
+"You bet!" said Jo.
+
+"Have you known her long?"
+
+"Quite a while," and Jo's cheeks again were suffused with a dark flush.
+
+"Poor little fellow!" thought Philippe. "I can't bear to tell him she
+is to be married. He is such a dare devil the chances are he will be
+killed before long and he may never have to know that his inamorata has
+chosen a better looking man, not a better man--they don't make them to
+beat little Williams."
+
+As they approached the car, impulsive Judy jumped out and ran to meet
+her friend. Jo ran, too, and they embraced with such ardor that Philippe
+stood back amazed. Maybe Kent Brown was not to be so envied, after all.
+If the girl who was to marry him in a day was so lavish with her
+embraces for other men, what kind of wife would she make? Of course,
+Williams was a rather dried up person, but then a man's a man for a'
+that.
+
+Kent, too, was rather astonished when his fiancée left him with such
+precipitation and before all the aviation camp hugged and kissed the
+strange bunchy little figure. Ardor for the heroes of France was all
+well enough, but a fellow's sweetheart need not be quite so warm in her
+manner of showing her appreciation, especially when the fellow happens
+not to be one himself in the habit of making daily daring flights to spy
+out the weakness in the trenches of the enemy.
+
+The Marquise laughed as she had not done since the first week in August
+of that terrible year. Kent looked at her in astonishment. She was not
+so very much like his mother, after all. His mother would not have been
+so much amused over the discomfiture of a young lover.
+
+That matron was saying to herself: "How stupid men are!" She had
+recognized Jo from the beginning. Kent had known in some far off corner
+of his brain that Mrs. Polly Perkins was doing something or other about
+the war, but his mind had been so taken up with his own affairs and
+Judy's possible danger that that knowledge had stayed in the corner of
+his brain while the more important matter of getting married was
+uppermost. Suddenly the truth flashed over him and he was overcome with
+laughter, too.
+
+"Caught on, eh?" asked his cousin.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"We must keep mum," she admonished. "There is no reason why a woman
+should not do her part this way if she can. I'd fly in a minute if that
+would help any. Of course these stupid men would raise a hue and cry if
+they knew a woman was carrying off the honours."
+
+"I am as quiet as the grave," declared Kent.
+
+Judy came to the car with her friend and with the utmost audacity
+introduced Jo as Mr. Williams. The Marquise greeted the supposed young
+man graciously. Kent sprang out and shook Jo warmly by the hand, much
+to the astonishment of his cousin Philippe.
+
+"Can't I see you a moment alone?" whispered Jo in Judy's ear. The
+Marquise, as though she divined what was in the heart of Mrs. Polly
+Perkins, asked her to come sit in the car; and then she suggested that
+Philippe show the camp to Kent and on second thought decided to go with
+them. The chauffeur had been sent with the hamper to the mess hall, so
+Judy and Jo had a few minutes alone.
+
+"I must find out something about Polly. I feel as though I could wait
+no longer for news of him. Can't you help me?"
+
+"Well, you know I am to be married to-morrow and sail for United States,
+but I am going to see that news is got to you somehow. Cousin Sally will
+do it, of course. She is the very person."
+
+"Oh, but that Philippe must not know. He has already been very curious
+about where he has seen me before, and I have had to be insufferably
+rude to him to keep him from prying into my past. I have made good as
+a man, but still they would not like it, I know."
+
+"How on earth did you ever get in? I am dying to hear all about it."
+
+"Well, naturally the examination for physical fitness was worrying me
+some. I got that little dried up art student named Joel Williams, the
+one who was always trying to claim kin with me, to take the examination
+and then let me slip in in his place. I bought his ticket to America to
+pay him for his trouble. He was broke, as usual, and scared to death
+when the war started, and willing to do anything to get home. It was
+really very simple to manage it. I am the same type, in a way, although
+I hope I am not so dried up as my would-be cousin. Same initials, too,
+which made the entering rather more regular."
+
+"Oh, Jo, what a girl you are!"
+
+"Shh! Don't call me a girl even to yourself. Do you think the Marquise
+d'Ochtè recognized me?"
+
+"Of course she did and Kent, too! Do you think they would have left us
+alone if they had not thought you were safe? Kent wouldn't have left me
+with such a bird if he had not known who the bird was. He would be
+afraid I might fly away with you. Oh, Jo, I do so want to fly!"
+
+"Well, why not?"
+
+"Oh, could I really?"
+
+"I think so. I have brought in information to our commander that is
+valuable enough for me to ask one small favor of him. Come on, let's
+ask!"
+
+The two girls were across the field and knocking for admittance at the
+Commander's tent before the Marquise and the two young men had begun
+their tour of inspection.
+
+"A favor to ask!" exclaimed the grizzled old warrior who sat poring over
+a map where Jo had only a few moments before added some crosses that
+meant much to the tactics of the French army.
+
+"I want to take a friend up in a machine."
+
+"A friend! I am sorry, my son, but it is hard to tell friends in this
+day of war. I can't let you. He might be no friend, after all, to
+France."
+
+"He! It is not a man but an American girl. She is just outside your
+tent," and Jo raised the flap and motioned Judy to enter. Judy was
+introduced. The old warrior looked at her searchingly.
+
+"Tell me, are you related to Robert Kean?"
+
+"His daughter, sir."
+
+"Robert Kean's daughter! Why, my child, your father and I have been
+close friends for years. Tell me where he is and what he is doing."
+
+So Judy told of her father's letter and his being held in Berlin
+because of the knowledge he had of Turkey's topography. She made him
+laugh long and loud when she told of the ridiculous limericks he had
+written on the paper boats.
+
+"And you, Robert Kean's daughter, want to fly, and to fly with our
+bravest and most daring aviator! Well, don't fly off to America with
+him,--and God bless you, my children," and he gave Judy a fatherly
+embrace and went back to his map.
+
+When Kent got back to the car with his cousin, there was no Judy.
+
+"Where can she have gone and where is Williams?"
+
+Philippe looked rather mysterious. Young girls who rushed up and
+embraced bird men with such ardor should not be allowed too much rope.
+
+"No doubt she will be back soon. Williams is perhaps showing her the
+camp. Look, there goes another machine up! Two in it! By Jove, it is
+Williams! I can tell by his way of starting. He has such a smooth
+getaway always. Could the passenger be Miss Kean?"
+
+"More than likely," said Kent composedly. "She has always been crazy to
+fly. I reckon Williams will take good care of her and not go too high or
+try any stunts."
+
+"Oh, certainly not!" said Philippe wonderingly. Americans were a riddle
+to him. He never quite understood his own mother, who had rather a
+casual idea of proprieties herself at times. That good lady, coming up
+just then, expressed no concern over the impropriety of Judy's flying
+with a man when she was to be married on the morrow to some one else.
+
+Kent sat in the car with his cousin Sally and together they enjoyed
+Judy's flight. Jo took her as close to the fighting line as she dared,
+but she had no idea of endangering the life of her passenger. They
+dipped and curved, for the most part confining their maneuvers to the
+vicinity of the camp. Judy never spoke one word, but held her breath and
+wept for sheer joy.
+
+"To be flying! To be flying! Oh, Judy Kean, you lucky dog!" she said to
+herself. "All my life I've been dreaming I could fly and now I am doing
+it."
+
+"Dizzy?" asked Jo.
+
+"No, but happy enough to die," gasped Judy. "If I wasn't going to be
+married, I'd be a bird man."
+
+When the landing was finally made and Judy stepped out, the world seemed
+very stale, flat and unprofitable. She was glad Kent was there waiting
+for her. If she could not be a bird man, she could at least be a very
+happy war bride. The great leather coat she had worn in her flight was
+very ugly and unbecoming, and she was thankful for one thing that she
+did not have to wear such frightful looking clothes all the time.
+
+On the way back to Paris she asked cousin Sally how she had recognized
+Jo Williams so readily.
+
+"By her feet, of course! Why, no man on earth ever had such eternally
+feminine feet." That good lady promised to find out immediately
+something about Polly and let his spunky wife know where and how he was.
+"She will have the Cross of Honour before she gets through, Philippe
+says."
+
+"You don't feel as though it were your duty to tell she is a woman, do
+you?" asked Judy.
+
+"Duty to tell! Heavens, child! I feel it is my duty to help France in
+every way I can, and surely to get that girl out of the aviation corps
+would be a hindrance to _la Patrie_. I doubt even Philippe's thinking it
+his duty to tell, and," with a twinkle in her eye that the horrors of
+war could not altogether dim, "Philippe has a very stern idea of his
+duty. He felt maybe it was his duty to get in a flying machine and go
+after you and Mr. Williams so he could chaperone you. He felt that the
+dignity of the family was at stake,--so soon to be the bride of his
+cousin and flying with another man! Terrible!"
+
+"Why, of course! I never thought of how it looked. There I went and
+hugged and kissed Jo right before everybody. I bet you a sou this
+minute Philippe and all the rest of them are feeling sorry for you,
+Kent."
+
+"Well, they needn't be," declared that young man as he found Judy's hand
+under the robe. "I'm satisfied--but I did feel a little funny for half a
+minute when you went and kissed Jo so warmly. It took me a moment longer
+to recognize her. Why didn't you put me on?"
+
+"Put you on? How could I, with all the people around?"
+
+"You promised me once you wouldn't fly with anybody until you could fly
+with me. Don't you remember?"
+
+"Of course I did, you goose! But I didn't say anybody--I said any man;
+so you see I didn't break my promise when I flew with Mrs. Polly
+Perkins!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE WEDDING BREAKFAST.
+
+
+When the Marquise d'Ochtè said she would do something, she always did it
+and did it as well as it could be done. When she undertook to find out
+where and how Polly Perkins was for the benefit of his spunky wife, she
+did it and did it immediately. And not only did she find him, but she
+got a little respite from duty for him and bore him back to Paris where
+she had already spirited Jo to be present at the wedding breakfast. She
+had asked a holiday for Jo, too, although the grizzled commander was
+loathe to let his best aviator off even for a day.
+
+Jo was taken to the converted d'Ochtè mansion and there dressed like a
+nice, feminine little woman, her hair curled by madame's maid. A tight
+velvet toque and a dotted veil completed the transformation and the
+commander himself would not have recognized his one time prize aviator.
+All of this masquerade was for the sole purpose of fooling Philippe,
+who, also, was to be one of the guests at the Tricots'.
+
+Polly was so happy to see his Jo again that it was pathetic to behold,
+and her pride in him and his bravery was beautiful. Polly was vastly
+improved. Kent, who had always liked the little man and had insisted
+that there was much more to him than the other members of the colony
+could see, was delighted to have his opinion of his friend verified.
+
+The ceremony was a very simple one, performed, not by the magistrate as
+Mère Tricot had suggested, but at the Protestant Episcopal Church. Polly
+Perkins gave away the bride, and Jo looked as though she would burst
+with pride at this honour done her husband. Jim Castleman was best man,
+and Cousin Sally fell in love with him on the spot.
+
+"He is like the young men of my youth," she declared, "the young men of
+Kentucky, I am not saying how many years ago."
+
+The little living room at the Tricots' soon after the ceremony was full
+to overflowing, but every one squeezed in somehow. The old couple were
+very happy in dispensing hospitality. Their Jean came home for a few
+hours and their hearts were thankful for this glimpse of their son.
+Marie beamed with joy and the rosy baby delighted them all by saying,
+"Pa-pa!" the first word it had ever uttered.
+
+Philippe, looking so handsome that Judy, too, wondered that all the
+American girls passed him by, fraternized with Jean, the peasant's son,
+with that simplicity which characterizes the military of France.
+
+The party was very gay, so gay that it seemed impossible that the
+Germans were really not more than thirty miles from them. Of course they
+talked politics, men and women. Old Mère Tricot had her opinions and
+expressed them, and they listened with respect when she pooh-poohed and
+bah-bahed the notion that the Nations had gone to war from altruistic
+motives.
+
+"Belgium might as well die fighting as die not fighting. The Germans
+had her any way she jumped. France had to fight, too, fight or be
+enslaved. As for Great Britain--she couldn't well stay out of it! When
+the Germans got Antwerp, why, where was England? Let us fight, I
+say--fight to a finish; but let's be honest about it and each country
+say she is fighting for herself."
+
+"Do you think United States should come over and help?" asked Kent, much
+interested in the old woman's wisdom.
+
+"Not unless she has wrongs of her own to right!" spoke the grenadier.
+
+"But think how France helped us out in '76!" exclaimed Judy.
+
+"Yes, and helped herself, no doubt. I am not very educated in history,
+but I'll be bound she had a crow of her own to pick with England."
+
+"To be sure," laughed Philippe, "France did want to destroy the naval
+supremacy of Great Britain. Her alliance with Spain meant more to France
+than her alliance with America. She was not wholly disinterested when
+she helped the struggling states."
+
+"Oh, Heavens, Philippe, please don't take from me the romantic passion I
+have always had for Lafayette!" begged his mother. "I used to thrill
+with joy when tales were told of my great grandmother's dancing with
+him."
+
+"Keep your passion for Lafayette. He was at least brave and
+disinterested, but don't waste much feeling on the government that
+backed him. Vergennes, the minister of France at that time, prepared a
+map in which the United States figured as the same old colonial strip
+between the Alleghenies and the sea. They had no idea of helping United
+States to become a great nation."
+
+"Yes, I remember reading a letter from Jay in which he said: 'This court
+is interested in separating us from Great Britain, but it is not their
+interest that we should become a great and formidable people.' But I
+feel deeply grateful to France for all she did," said Kent.
+
+"Me, too!" cried Jim Castleman. "And I mean to do all I can to pay it
+back."
+
+"Ah! My American Lafayette!" cried the Marquise. "A toast, a toast, to
+my American Lafayette!" And they stood up and drank a toast to the
+blushing young giant.
+
+"I didn't dream any one could have such a good time at her own wedding,"
+said Judy when the last vestige of cake had disappeared. It was a
+wonderful cake with a tiny white sugar bride and a chocolate groom
+perched on top. There had been much holding of hands under the table.
+Every other person seemed to be eating with his or her left hand, and
+Cousin Sally complained that she had no hand to eat with at all, as
+Philippe held one of her hands and the American Lafayette held the
+other.
+
+The Marquis could not come, much to the regret of all the company, for
+his regiment expected to be called to the front any day and no leaves
+could be granted.
+
+Judy put up a brave front when adieux were in order, but her heart was
+very sad. How many terrible things might happen to these kind friends
+she was leaving! The Tricots, good souls, might be bereft at any
+moment. Dear Cousin Sally, with two in the war, might be doubly visited
+by the hand of death. Polly and Jo Perkins were to part after this brief
+time of happiness, holding hands under the Tricots' hospitable board,
+one to return to his office of caring for the wounded, the other to her
+office of keeping the German ambulance drivers busy. The young Kentucky
+giant, Jim Castleman, was to join his regiment on the following day. His
+glee at having a chance to swat the Prussians was intense. He didn't
+look like a person who could ever die, but one bit of shrapnel might in
+the twinkling of an eye destroy that virile youth.
+
+"Come to see me when you can, my American Lafayette," begged the
+Marquise, "and if you get so much as a tiny little wound, let me nurse
+you if you can get to me."
+
+Jim had delighted the little party by translating into his execrable
+French football terms to describe his idea of how the war should be
+conducted. His left tackle was frankly: "_gauche palan_," and his centre
+rush was: "_cintre jonc_."
+
+He and Kent were not very demonstrative in their parting, but both of
+them felt it deeply.
+
+"Wuv e lul lul! Sus o lul o nun gug!" called Jim, as the cab bearing the
+bride and groom started.
+
+"Gug o o dud lul u sank kuk!" was Kent's feeling rejoinder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.
+
+
+No submarine warfare interrupted the peaceful passage of our
+honeymooners. The voyage was delightful to both of them after all the
+trials they had been through. Judy was as much at home on the water as
+on land, literally a born sailor, as she had been born at sea. Kent
+loved a ship and all the many aspects of the ocean. The lazy days on
+deck, with their chairs drawn as close together as chairs could be,
+their hands clasped under the steamer rug, seemed like a beautiful
+dream, only a dream that was going to last for a lifetime, not the lazy
+days on deck but the being together and never talking out. Being lazy
+was not the idea of eternal bliss common to either of these young
+persons. Kent felt there were worlds to conquer in the architectural
+universe and he meant to do his share towards conquering them; and with
+Judy by his side, he gloried in the task before him. As for Judy, she
+meant to paint like mad and to work up many ideas she had teeming in her
+head. She was thankful for the reels of undeveloped snapshots she had in
+her trunk, as she was going to use them as a jog to her memory for the
+numerous illustrations she meant to make in an article she was thinking
+of writing on Paris at the outbreak of the war.
+
+Cousin Sally's admonition to work for the Allies was not forgotten,
+either. Judy was planning a busy winter for herself in New York just as
+soon as she and Kent could get themselves settled in an apartment.
+
+"It must be very inexpensive, too, Kent. We must save money."
+
+Kent couldn't help laughing at Judy's solemn face. What would Judy's
+friends say at her becoming penurious? Judy, the spendthrift!
+
+"You see, I've always cost poor Bobby a lot of money; not that he has
+ever complained, but I don't mean to be a burden to you, Kent."
+
+Kent had no answer for such foolishness but to squeeze her hand.
+
+"I'd be perfectly happy if I just knew that Bobby and poor little Mumsy
+were all right."
+
+"Why, they may be on the high seas this minute. We will surely hear
+something of them when we get to New York."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sandy Hook was at last sighted and then came the slow, majestic steaming
+into the harbour! Liberty still held her torch on high with the gulls
+circling around her. The same little tugs were puffing up and down, with
+the great ferries plying back and forth like huge shuttles. New York's
+sky line was as fascinating to Mrs. Kent Brown as it had ever been to
+Judy Kean.
+
+"Oh, Kent, I love it so! How could I have stayed away so long?" cried
+Judy, rapturously making sketches in the air.
+
+The pier was filled with an eager crowd, awaiting the arrival of the
+steamer.
+
+"There won't be any one for us," said Judy rather wistfully. "Your
+mother is in Kentucky, and of course Molly couldn't leave the baby to
+come meet us, and there isn't any one else."
+
+Kent smiled and said nothing. He was almost sure he saw the figure of
+his tall brother-in-law, Professor Green, towering above the crowd, but
+he was afraid he might be mistaken and could not bear to disappoint
+Judy.
+
+It was Edwin Green and hanging on one arm was Molly (Kent knew her by
+the blue scarf). And who was that on the other arm? Oh, what a mother!
+It was Mrs. Brown, her face uplifted and glowing.
+
+"Judy, look a little to the left of the second post! Right in front of
+us, honey! What do you see?"
+
+"Oh, it's Molly! I can tell her by her blue scarf--and Kent! Kent,
+there's your mother and dear Edwin!" Then Judy clutched her young
+husband's arm. "Look a little to the right, standing by your
+mother--there's a big man that looks like Bobby--See, with a little
+doll baby woman in front of him--he's keeping the crowd off of
+her--see! see! It is--it is Bobby and little Mumsy!"
+
+Judy, who not much more than two weeks before had considered herself the
+most unfortunate and friendless of mortals, now knew that there was not
+such a happy person in all the world. How long the vessel took to be
+made fast to the pier! And then such a crowding and pushing! Every one
+on board seemed to have some one on the pier he had not seen for
+centuries and must get to immediately.
+
+"They can't be as anxious to hug their mothers as I am, and I know they
+haven't any Bobbies," she complained. "And I am sure they have not been
+shipwrecked like you and given up for drowned by their families. They
+ought to let us off first."
+
+Mr. Kean was behaving exactly as though he were at a football game. He
+was jumping up and down and waving and shouting, and his rooting egged
+Kent to make a rush for the gangway, holding Judy like a pigskin; and
+once on the gangplank there was nothing to do but push and be pushed by
+the crowd until they shot out on the pier into the arms of their waiting
+and eager families.
+
+With every one talking at once, it was difficult to get any accurate
+knowledge about one another, but when it was all sifted out it developed
+that Mr. and Mrs. Kean had finally been allowed by the Imperial
+Government to leave Berlin, in fact, they had been encouraged to go. Mr.
+Kean was looked upon as a dangerous person, a lunatic at large, and they
+did not want the responsibility or expense of caring for him. His jokes
+got to be too many and serious, and when he became such an adept in
+evading the spy set to watch him that two had to be detailed for that
+duty, the powers that be evidently decided that what knowledge he
+possessed of the topography of Turkey did not outweigh in importance the
+wearing out of perfectly good soldier material. He worried the spy so
+that he was nothing more than skin and bones, poor fellow!
+
+They had arrived in New York only the day before and had immediately got
+Molly on the long distance telephone. Of course, they knew nothing of
+Judy's being married, but unhesitatingly approved of the step Kent had
+taken and did not consider him at all high-handed. Mr. Kean, being of a
+most impulsive disposition, could understand it in other persons, and
+little Mrs. Kean was so used to her comet-like husband and daughter that
+she was never astonished by anything they did.
+
+"I was not the impulsive one this time, though, Bobby," Judy declared
+when they finally settled themselves around the luncheon table at the
+hotel where a second bridal feast had been prepared, ordered by the
+lavish Bobby. "It was Kent. I had no idea of ever being married--in
+fact, it seemed to me to be not quite decent to be married so quickly
+when I was in such deep mourning--The wedding was quiet because of the
+recent bereavement----"
+
+"In mourning! You, Judy, in mourning for whom?" and poor little Mrs.
+Kean gasped, not knowing what she was to learn now.
+
+"Why, for Kent himself. Nothing but the bombs dropped in Paris kept me
+from having my best serge suit dyed black. Molly, I always said I'd make
+a fetching widow, and I did all right. Kent thought I was just lovely in
+the hat I fixed for his mourning."
+
+"Oh, Judy! The same old Judy!" exclaimed Molly fondly.
+
+Molly had thought it would be impossible for her to go to New York
+to meet the incoming steamer with its precious cargo, but Edwin had
+declared she should go; so little Mildred was taken on the jaunt as
+well, with the eager Katy as nurse. Kizzie was already installed as
+cook and Katy was proving a most careful and reliable nurse. Molly was
+looking and behaving more like herself and no longer had to let her
+patient husband go off to his lectures like a bachelor with no wife to
+pour his coffee.
+
+"And now, you and Kent and Mr. and Mrs. Kean must all come to Wellington
+to visit us," announced the hospitable Molly. "Mustn't they, Edwin?"
+
+"Indeed they must," said Edwin obediently, but in his heart wondering
+where Molly would put all of them. The old red house on the campus was
+large but had not very many rooms. The young professor could never quite
+get used to the Browns and their unbounded hospitality. His favorite
+story was one on his mother-in-law; how, when one of her sons brought
+home the whole football team to spend the night, she calmly took the top
+mattresses off all the beds (the beds at Chatsworth were fortunately
+equipped with box mattresses and top mattresses) and made up pallets on
+the floor, thereby doubling the sleeping capacity of her hospitable
+mansion.
+
+"I can't come, Molly,--mighty sorry," said Kent, "but my job must be
+held down now. They have kept it open for me long enough."
+
+"And I stay with Kent!" declared Judy.
+
+"Hurrah, hurrah! Her mother's own daughter!" cried the delighted Bobby.
+"I was wondering what kind of wife my girl would make; now I know. I
+wouldn't take anything for that: 'I stay with Kent.'"
+
+"Oh, I'm going to be terribly domestic. I found that out while I was
+living with the Tricots. What's more, I can make tarts--the best ever. I
+can hardly wait to get a flat and a pastry board to make some for Kent."
+
+"You might use your drawing board for a pastry board," teased her
+father. "I fancy art is through with."
+
+"Through with, indeed! Why, Bobby, I am astonished and ashamed of you! I
+am going to paint all the time that I am not making tarts, and what time
+is left, I am going to knit socks and make bandages for the wounded."
+
+"And poor me! When do I come in?" asked Kent.
+
+"You come in early and behave yourself or I'll spend the rest of the
+time making suffrage speeches," laughed the war bride.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now since we must leave our friends some where, what better time and
+place than at this second wedding breakfast, while all of them are
+together and happy? Perhaps we shall meet them again when the old red
+house on the campus shall be taxed to its utmost in its endeavor to
+behave like Chatsworth. We shall see Judy and Kent in their little flat
+and mayhaps taste one of Judy's tarts. We must know more of Molly's
+girls at Wellington and meet dear Nance Oldham and little Otoyo Sen
+again. It is hard to part forever with our friends and those who know
+Molly Brown feel that all her friends are theirs.
+
+So I hope our readers will be glad to meet again "Molly Brown's College
+Friends."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Marjorie Dean
+  College
+  Series
+
+BY PAULINE LESTER.
+
+Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series.
+
+
+Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High School Series will be eager
+to read this new series, as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in
+these stories.
+
+  All Clothbound.    Copyright Titles.
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.
+
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers.
+
+             A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 East 23rd Street,    New York
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Marjorie Dean
+  High School
+  Series
+
+BY PAULINE LESTER
+
+Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series
+
+
+These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to all
+girls of high school age.
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+            A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The
+  Girl Scouts
+  Series
+
+BY EDITH LAVELL
+
+
+A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide
+experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.
+
+Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.
+
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN'S SCHOOL
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' VACATION ADVENTURES
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' MOTOR TRIP
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+            A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The Camp Fire
+  Girls Series
+
+By HILDEGARD G. FREY
+
+
+A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years.
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go
+          Camping.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, The Magic Garden.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads
+          the Way.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open
+          Door.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven
+          Cedars.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the
+          Winnebagos.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure
+          at Carver House.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles.
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+            A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The Blue Grass
+  Seminary Girls Series
+
+BY CAROLYN JUDSON BURNETT
+
+
+For Girls 12 to 16 Years
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+Splendid stories of the Adventures of a Group of Charming Girls.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' VACATION ADVENTURES; or, Shirley
+          Willing to the Rescue.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS; or, A Four
+          Weeks' Tour with the Glee Club.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS; or, Shirley Willing
+          on a Mission of Peace.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or, Exciting Adventures
+          on a Summer's Cruise Through the Panama Canal.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Mildred Series
+
+BY MARTHA FINLEY
+
+
+For Girls 12 to 16 Years.
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+A Companion Series to the famous "Elsie" books by the same author.
+
+  MILDRED KEITH        MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE
+  MILDRED AT ROSELAND  MILDRED AT HOME
+  MILDRED AND ELSIE    MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS
+          MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+A. L. BURT COMPANY
+114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Minor printer's errors have been corrected. Otherwise the original
+has been preserved, including inconsistent spelling and hyphenation.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 36736-8.txt or 36736-8.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/6/7/3/36736
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+<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Molly Brown of Kentucky, by Nell Speed</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Molly Brown of Kentucky</p>
+<p>Author: Nell Speed</p>
+<p>Release Date: July 15, 2011  [eBook #36736]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3 class="center">E-text prepared by<br />
+    Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, eagkw,<br />
+    and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcover">
+<img src="images/molly7cover.jpg" width="420" height="635" alt="cover" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a>
+<img src="images/molly7frontis.jpg" width="400" height="578" alt="One by one they emerged from their corner.&mdash;Page 237." title="" />
+<br /><span class="caption">One by one they emerged from their corner.&mdash;<i>Page <a href="#Page_237">237</a>.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="bbox"><h1>MOLLY BROWN<br />
+OF KENTUCKY</h1>
+<hr class="l4"/>
+
+<p class="tp"><span class="smcap">By</span> NELL SPEED</p>
+<hr class="l6"/>
+
+<p class="tp2"><span class="smcap">Author of</span><br />
+&ldquo;The Tucker Twins Series,&rdquo; &ldquo;The Carter<br />
+Girls Series,&rdquo; etc.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/molly7title.png" width="113" height="228" alt="title page" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr class="l4"/>
+
+<p class="tp"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big><br />
+<span class="lft">Publishers</span> <span class="rght">New York</span></p>
+
+<p class="tp c"><small>Printed in U. S. A.</small></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="tp2">Copyright, 1917,<br />
+BY<br />
+HURST &amp; COMPANY, <span class="smcap">Inc.</span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="tp2">Printed in U. S. A.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+<hr class="l2"/>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td class="col1"><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td class="col2">&nbsp;</td><td class="col3"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">I</td><td class="col2">A Letter</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">II</td><td class="col2">The Orchard Home</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">III</td><td class="col2">Kent Brown</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">IV</td><td class="col2">Afternoon Tea</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">V</td><td class="col2">Letters from Paris and Berlin</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">VI</td><td class="col2">At the Tricots&rsquo;</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">VII</td><td class="col2">A Mother&rsquo;s Faith</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">VIII</td><td class="col2">Des Halles</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">IX</td><td class="col2">The American Mail</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_123">123</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">X</td><td class="col2">The Zeppelin Raid</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XI</td><td class="col2">&ldquo;L&rsquo;Hirondelle de Mer&rdquo;</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XII</td><td class="col2">Tutno</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XIII</td><td class="col2">The &ldquo;Signy&rdquo;</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XIV</td><td class="col2">The Cablegram</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_167">167</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XV</td><td class="col2">Wellington Again</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_185">185</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XVI</td><td class="col2">Irishman&rsquo;s Curtains</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XVII</td><td class="col2">Heroes and Hero Worshipers</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XVIII</td><td class="col2">Circumstantial Evidence</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XIX</td><td class="col2">Wasted Dye</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XX</td><td class="col2">A War Bride</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XXI</td><td class="col2">The Flight</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XXII</td><td class="col2">The Wedding Breakfast</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td class="col1">XXIII</td><td class="col2">The Star-Spangled Banner</td><td class="col3"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h1>Molly Brown of Kentucky.</h1>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER I.<br />
+
+<small>A LETTER.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>From Miss Julia Kean to Mrs. Edwin Green.</p>
+
+<p class="r2">
+<span class="rght3">Giverny, France,</span><br />
+<span class="rght2">August, 1914.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Dearest old Molly Brown of Kentucky:</p>
+
+<p>You can marry a million Professor Edwin
+Greens, B.A., M.A., Ph.D., L.D. (the last stands
+for lucky dog), and you can also have a million
+little Green Olive Branches, but you will still
+be Molly Brown of Kentucky to all of your old
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>I came up to Giverny last week with the Polly
+Perkinses. They are great fun and, strange to
+say, get on rather better than most married folks.
+Jo is much meeker than we ever thought she
+could be, now that she has made Polly cut his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>
+hair and has let her own grow out. Polly is
+more manly, too, I think and asserts himself occasionally,
+much to Jo&rsquo;s delight. I should not
+be at all astonished if his falsetto voice turned into
+a baritone, if not a deep bass. He walks with
+quite a swagger and talks about my wife this
+and my wife that in such masculine pride that
+you would not know him.</p>
+
+<p>Paris was rather excited when we came
+through last week. I have been at Quimperle
+all summer and only stopped in Paris long enough
+to get some paints and canvas. I had actually
+painted out. Jo had written me to join her in
+this little housekeeping scheme at Giverny. I
+wish you could see the house we have taken. It
+is too wonderful that it is ours! Such peace and
+quiet! Especially so, after the turmoil in Paris.
+I have seen so few papers that I hardly know
+what it is all about; no doubt you in Kentucky
+with your <cite>Courier Journal</cite> know more than I do.
+They talk of war, but of course that is nonsense.
+Anyhow, if there is a war, I bet I am<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>
+going to be Johnny on the Spot. But of course
+there won&rsquo;t be one.</p>
+
+<p>I miss Kent,&mdash;but I need hardly tell you that.
+I almost gave in and sailed with him, but it was
+much best for me to wait in France for my
+mother and father. They are now in Berlin
+waiting for the powers that be to give some kind
+of a permit for some kind of a road that Bobby
+is to build from Constantinople to the interior;
+that is, he is to build it if he can get the permission
+of the Imperial Government. What the
+Germans have to do with Turkey, you can search
+me, but that is what Bobby writes me. He has
+done a lot of work on it already in the way of
+preliminary plans. I am to hang around until
+I hear from them, so I am going to hang
+around with the Polly Perkinses.</p>
+
+<p>No doubt Kent is home by this time. I envy
+him, somehow. It is so wonderful to have a
+home to go to. Now isn&rsquo;t that a silly line of
+talk for Judy Kean to be getting off, I, who have
+always declared that a Gypsy van was my idea
+of bliss? I never have had a home and I never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+have wanted one until lately. I fancy that winter
+in Paris with your mother in the Rue Brea
+was my undoing. Of course, if Bobby had been
+anything but a civil engineer and Mamma had
+been anything but so much married to Bobby that
+she had to trot around with him from one end
+of the earth to the other, why then, I might
+have had a home. But Bobby is Bobby and he
+wouldn&rsquo;t have been himself doing anything but
+building roads, and I certainly would not have
+had Mamma let him build them all by his lonesome.
+The truth of the matter is, I was a mistake.
+I should either never have been born or
+I should have been born a boy. Geewhillikins!
+What a boy I would have been! Somehow, I&rsquo;m
+glad I&rsquo;m not, though.</p>
+
+<p>I am wild to see little Mildred. It seems so
+wonderful for you to be a mother. I know you
+will make a great job of being one, too. Are you
+going to have her be an old-fashioned baby with
+the foregone conclusion that she must &ldquo;eat her
+peck of dirt,&rdquo; or is she to be one of these infants
+whose toys must be sterilized before she is allowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>
+to play with them, and who is too easily
+contaminated to be kissed unless the kisser gargles
+first with corrosive sublimate? Please let
+me know about this, because kiss her I must and
+will, and if I have to be aseptic before I can do
+it, I fancy I had better begin right now. Here
+is Polly with the mail and Paris papers. Will
+finish later.</p>
+
+<p>It has come! Actual war! We feel like fools
+to have rushed off here to the country without
+knowing more about the state France was in. I
+can hardly believe it even now. They are asking
+Americans to leave Paris, but I can&rsquo;t leave. How
+can I, with Mamma and Papa in Berlin? I am
+going to stay right where I am until things settle
+themselves a little. The peasants even now
+do not believe it has come. We are not much
+more than an hour from Paris, but there are
+many persons living in this village who have
+never been to Paris. The old men stand in
+groups and talk politics, disagreeing on every
+subject under the sun except the one great subject
+and that is Germany. Hatred of Germany<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
+is the one thing that there are no two minds
+about. The women look big-eyed and awestruck.
+There are no young men&mdash;all gone to war. They
+went off singing and joking.</p>
+
+<p class="r2">What I long for most is news. We don&rsquo;t get
+any news to speak of. I am filled with concern
+about Bobby and Mamma. It is foolish, as they
+are able to take care of themselves, but Bobby is
+so sassy. I am so afraid he might jaw back at
+the Emperor. He is fully capable of calling him
+to account for his behavior. Some one should,
+but I hope it won&rsquo;t be Bobby.</p>
+
+<p class="r2">Polly Perkins is going to drive a Red Cross
+Ambulance. He is quite determined, so determined
+that he has actually produced a chin from
+somewhere (you remember he boasted none to
+speak of). It is quite becoming to him, this determination
+and chin, and Jo is beaming with
+pride. I believe if Polly had wanted to run, it
+would have killed Jo.</p>
+
+<p class="r2">Excuse the jerkiness of this, but I am so excited
+that I can only jot down a little at a time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>
+Things are moving fast! The artists and near
+artists at Madame Gaston&rsquo;s Inn are piling out,
+making for Paris, some to sail for United States
+and others to try to get into England. Jo and I
+had determined to sit tight in our little house
+with its lovely walled garden that seems a kind
+of protection to us&mdash;not that we are scared, bless
+you no! We just felt we might as well be here
+as anywhere else.</p>
+
+<p>This morning Jo came to breakfast looking kind
+of different and yet kind of familiar&mdash;she had
+cut off her hair!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I mean to follow Polly,&rdquo; she remarked simply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Follow him where?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wherever he goes.&rdquo; And do you know,
+Molly, the redoubtable Jo burst into tears?</p>
+
+<p>I was never more shocked in my life. If your
+Aunt Sarah Clay had dissolved into tears, I would
+not have been more at a loss how to conduct myself.
+I patted her heartily on the back but the
+poor girl wanted a shoulder to weep on and I
+lent her one. I tell you when Jo gets started she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
+is some bawler. I fancy she made up for all
+the many years that crying has been out of her
+ken.</p>
+
+<p>My neck is stiff from the wetting I got.
+Nothing short of the plumber could have stopped
+her. When she finally went dry, she began to
+talk:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By I&rsquo;b glad Bolly didn zee be bake zuch a vool
+ob byself!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you had better look after your p&rsquo;s and
+s&rsquo;s or you&rsquo;ll be taken up as a German spy.&rdquo; That
+made her laugh and then she went on to tell me
+what she meant to do, the p&rsquo;s still too much for
+her but her s&rsquo;s improving.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the use of my brofession now? I&rsquo;d
+like to know that. Miniature painting will be
+no good for years to come. This war is going
+to be something that&rsquo;ll make everybody baint on
+big canvasses. Who will want to look at anything
+little? I tell you, Judy, the day of mastodons
+is at hand! There&rsquo;ll be no more lap-dogs,
+no more pet canaries. The one time lap-dogs will
+find themselves raging lions; and the pet canaries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
+will grow to great eagles and burst the
+silly wires of their cages with a snap of their
+fingers&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Whose fingers?&rdquo; I demanded.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind whose! Mixed metaphors are
+perfectly permissible in war time.&rdquo; I was glad
+to see she could say such a word as permissible,
+which meant that her storm of weeping had subsided.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you going as a Red Cross nurse?&rdquo; I
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nurse your grandmother! I&rsquo;m going to drive
+an ambulance or maybe fly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But they won&rsquo;t want a woman in the thick of
+the fight!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, who&rsquo;s to know? When I get a good
+hair-cut and put on some of Polly&rsquo;s togs, I bet
+I&rsquo;ll make as good a man as Pol&mdash;no, I won&rsquo;t say
+that. I&rsquo;ll never be as good a man as he is. I&rsquo;m
+going to try the aviation racket first. If they
+won&rsquo;t take me, I&rsquo;ll get with the Red Cross, somehow.
+I know I could fly like a bird. I have never
+yet seen the wheels that I could not understand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>
+the turning of. I believe it is not so easy to get
+aviators. It is so hazardous that men don&rsquo;t
+go in for it. I am light weight but awfully
+strong.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Jo, what are you going to do about your
+feet?&rdquo; You remember, Molly, what pretty little
+feet Jo has.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;ll wear some of Polly&rsquo;s shoes and stuff
+out the toes. I bet I&rsquo;ll walk like Charlie Chaplin,
+but when one is flying, it doesn&rsquo;t make much difference
+about feet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Nothing is going to stop her. She is to start
+to Paris to-morrow, and I will go, too. I know
+all of you think I should stay here in G&mdash;&mdash;&nbsp;until
+I can get into communication with Bobby,
+but Molly Brown, I can&rsquo;t do it. When
+history is being made, I simply can&rsquo;t stand
+aside and see it. I&rsquo;ve got to get in it by hook or
+crook.</p>
+
+<p>Don&rsquo;t be scared&mdash;I am not going to fly! I
+wish I could, but I promised Kent Brown I would
+never fly with any man but him, and while it
+was done in jest, in a way I still feel that a promise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>
+must be kept. I wish I were not made that
+way. I&rsquo;d like to dress up like Jo Bill Perkins
+and pass as a man, and I could do it quite as well
+as Jo, in spite of her having practiced being a
+boy all her life, but I can&rsquo;t help thinking what
+Bobby has always said to me: &ldquo;Just remember
+you are a lady and you can&rsquo;t go far wrong.&rdquo;
+Somehow, I am afraid if I cut off my hair and
+discarded skirts, I might forget I am a lady. It
+is an awful nuisance being one, anyhow.</p>
+
+<p>I don&rsquo;t know just what I am going to do, but
+I certainly can&rsquo;t cross the Atlantic, with Bobby
+and poor little Mamma somewhere in Germany,
+maybe locked up in dungeons or something. I
+know it won&rsquo;t help them any for me to be in
+France, but at least I will be nearer to them
+geographically.</p>
+
+<p>My letter of credit on the Paris bankers will
+put me on easy street financially, so as far as
+money is concerned, Bobby will know I am all
+right. I can&rsquo;t think the war will last very long.
+Surely all the neutral countries will just step in
+and stop it. The French are looking to United<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+States. It is very amusing to hear the old
+peasants talk about Lafayette. They seem to
+think tit for tat: if they helped us out more than
+a century ago, we will have to help them out
+now.</p>
+
+<p>I can&rsquo;t tell what I think just yet. Everything
+is in too much of a turmoil. I wish I knew what
+Bobby thinks. He is always so sane in his political
+opinions. I get more and more uneasy
+about them, Bobby and Mamma. Such terrible
+tales of the Germans are coming to us. I don&rsquo;t
+believe them, at least not all of them. How could
+a kindly, rather bovine race suddenly turn into
+raging tigers? Why should any one want to do
+anything to Bobby? I comfort myself with that
+thought and then I remember how hot-headed and
+impulsive he is, inherited directly from me, his
+daughter, and I begin to tremble.</p>
+
+<p>Jo and I are settling up our affairs here.
+Madame Gaston is to take charge of our few
+belongings. I have a hunch it will be best to
+lighten our luggage all we can. Jo is not going
+to turn into a man until we get to Paris. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>
+is too funny in her envy of old Mère Gaspard
+because of her big moustache. You know how
+many of the French peasant women have quite
+mannish beards and moustaches. Mother Gaspard
+has the largest and most formidable one I
+have ever seen, although she is a most motherly
+old soul, not a bit fatherly.</p>
+
+<p>I will write from Paris again. I know Kent
+is in a state of grouch with himself for sailing
+when he did. I believe he feels as I do about
+things happening. I don&rsquo;t want houses to burn
+down, but if they do burn, I want to see the fire;
+I don&rsquo;t want dogs to fight, but if there is a dog
+fight going on, I am certainly going to stand on
+my tiptoes and look over the crowd and see them
+tear each other up; I certainly don&rsquo;t want the
+Nations to go to war, but if they will do it, I am
+going to have experiences.</p>
+
+<p>Please give my best love to all the family and
+a thoroughly sterilized kiss to that marvelous infant.
+I verily believe if it had not been for
+Kent&rsquo;s overweening desire to behold that baby,
+he would have waited over for another steamer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
+and in that way found himself in the thick of
+the fight. I am glad he went, however. If Polly
+Perkins developed a chin and rushed off, what
+might Kent have done with an overdevelopment
+of chin already there?</p>
+
+<p>
+<span class="rght3">Yours always,</span><br />
+<span class="rght1">Judy.</span><br />
+</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER II.<br />
+
+<small>THE ORCHARD HOME.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;R. F. D., late as usual,&rdquo; laughed Molly, as
+Mr. Bud Woodsmall&rsquo;s very ramshackle Ford runabout
+came careening through the lane and up
+the hill to the yard gate. &ldquo;I fancy he has had
+to stop and talk war at every mail box on his
+route.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think I&rsquo;ll go meet him,&rdquo; said Professor Edwin
+Green, rather reluctantly arising from the
+chaise longue that seemed to have been built
+to fit his lack of curves, he declared. He had
+been sitting on the porch of the bungalow, eyes
+half closed to shut out everything from his vision
+but the picture of Molly holding the sleeping baby
+in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You know you want to gossip with him&mdash;now
+&rsquo;fess up!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I do like to hear his views of the situation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+in Europe. They are original, at least. He
+says Yankee capitalists are the cause of it all.
+Don&rsquo;t you want me to put Mildred down? She
+has been asleep for half an hour,&rdquo; and the young
+husband and father stood for a moment and
+looked down on his treasures with what Judy
+Kean always called his faithful-collie-dog eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know I oughtn&rsquo;t to hold her while she is
+asleep, but she seems so wonderful I can&rsquo;t bear
+to let her go. I think she is growing more like
+you, Edwin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Like me! Nonsense! That would be a sad
+thing to have wished on the poor innocent when
+there are so many handsome folks in the Carmichael
+and Brown family from whom she could
+inherit real beauty.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But Edwin, you are handsome, I think. You
+are so noble looking.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, honey, have it your own way,&rdquo; and
+he stooped and kissed her. &ldquo;I will allow that the
+baby has inherited my bald head if you like&mdash;Hi
+there!&rdquo; he called to Mr. Woodsmall, who was
+preparing to unlock the mail box, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll come get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
+it,&rdquo; and he sprinted down the walk where the garrulous
+postman held him enthralled for a good
+fifteen minutes. A blue envelope with a foreign
+postmark told him there was a letter from Julia
+Kean that would be eagerly welcomed by Molly,
+but there was no stopping the flow of R.&nbsp;F.&nbsp;D.&rsquo;s
+eloquence. The causes of the war being thoroughly
+threshed out, he finally took his reluctant
+departure.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A letter from Judy Kean! Now you will have
+to put the baby down!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So little Mildred was tenderly placed in her
+basket on the porch and Molly opened the voluminous
+epistle from the beloved Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Edwin, she is not coming home! I was
+afraid she would want to do something Judyesque.
+Only listen!&rdquo; and Molly read the Giverny
+letter to her husband.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you think Kent will say to this? I
+know he is very uneasy about her anyhow since
+the war broke out, and now&mdash;well, I&rsquo;m glad I&rsquo;m
+not in his shoes. She is not very considerate of
+him, I must say.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you men folks!&rdquo; laughed Molly. &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t
+see how she could leave France until she knows
+something about her mother and father, and after
+all, I don&rsquo;t believe Kent and Judy are engaged.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not engaged! What do you think Kent has
+been doing this whole year in Paris if he wasn&rsquo;t
+getting engaged?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Studying Architecture at the Beaux Arts.
+Sometimes persons can know one another a long
+time and be together a lot and not get engaged,&rdquo;
+she teased. It was a very well-known fact that
+Professor Edwin Green had been in love with
+Molly Brown for at least five years, and maybe
+longer, before he put the all important question.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I know, but then&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then what? My brother Kent is certainly
+not able to support a wife yet, and maybe they
+are opposed to long engagements.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, all the same I am sorry for Kent. It
+was bad enough when you went abroad and the
+ocean was between us and I knew you were being
+well taken care of by your dear mother,&mdash;but just
+suppose it had been war time and you had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
+alone! The news from France is very grave.
+It looks as though the Germans would eat Christmas
+dinner in Paris as they boast they will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Edwin, no!&rdquo; and Molly turned pale.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, look at these head lines in to-day&rsquo;s paper.
+It looks very ominous. When did you say
+you were expecting Kent home?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By to-morrow at latest. He wrote Mother
+he was to stay some time in New York to try
+to land a job that looked very promising.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here she comes now!&rdquo; he exclaimed, his face
+lighting up with joy as it always did when his
+mother-in-law appeared on the scene.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown was coming through the orchard
+from Chatsworth. Her hair had turned a little
+greyer since Molly&rsquo;s marriage, but not much;
+her step was still light and active; her grey eyes
+as full of life; and in her heart the same eternal
+youth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, children! Did you get any mail? How
+is my precious little granddaughter? I&rsquo;ve a letter
+from Kent. It just did beat him home. Paul
+&rsquo;phoned from Louisville that he is in town now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>
+just arrived and will be here with him this afternoon.
+I am so excited!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Dear Mrs. Brown&rsquo;s life was made up of such
+excitements now: her children always going and
+returning. Mildred, Mrs. Crittenden Rutledge,
+had left for Iowa only two days before, having
+spent two months with her little family at Chatsworth;
+now Kent was almost home; and in less
+than a month the Greens would make their annual
+move to Wellington. Sue, the eldest daughter,
+married to young Cyrus Clay, lived within a
+few miles of Chatsworth and seemed the only
+one who was a fixture. Paul&rsquo;s newspaper work
+kept him in Louisville most of the time and John,
+the doctor, made flying visits to his home but
+had to make his headquarters in the city for fear
+of missing patients. Ernest, the eldest son, was
+threatening to come home and settle at Chatsworth,
+but that was still an uncertainty.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must read you Judy&rsquo;s letter, Mother. I
+know you will feel as uneasy as we do about her.
+Edwin thinks she should come home, but I think
+she could hardly leave, not knowing something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+more definite about her mother and father, who
+may be bottled up in Germany indefinitely.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Only think of the sizzle Mr. Kean will make
+when they finally draw the cork,&rdquo; laughed
+Mrs. Brown; but when Molly read the
+whole of Judy&rsquo;s letter to her, the laughter
+left her countenance and she looked very solemn
+and disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor Kent!&rdquo; she sighed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wonder what he will do,&rdquo; from Molly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do? Why, he will do what the men of his
+blood should do!&rdquo; Mrs. Brown held her head
+very high and her delicate nostrils quivered in
+the way her family knew meant either anger or
+high resolve. &ldquo;He will go to France and either
+stay and protect Judy or bring her back to his
+mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Mother, are you going to ask this of
+him? Maybe he won&rsquo;t think it is the right thing
+to do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course, I am not going to ask it of him.
+I just know the &lsquo;mettle of his pasture.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the expense!&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Expense! Molly, you don&rsquo;t sound like yourself.
+What is expense when your loved ones are
+in danger?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I can&rsquo;t think that Judy could be in real
+danger.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t think anything else. You surely have
+not read the morning paper. The Germans are
+advancing so rapidly.... The atrocities in Belgium!
+Ugh! I can&rsquo;t contemplate our Judy being
+anywhere in their reach.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Mother, they must be exaggerated! People
+could not do what they say they have done,
+not good, kind German soldiers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly! Molly! Your goodness will even let
+you love the Germans. I am not made that way.
+The Anglo Saxon in me is so uppermost and I
+feel such a boiling and bubbling in my veins that
+nothing but my grey hairs keeps me from joining
+the Red Cross myself and helping the Allies!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, then you don&rsquo;t blame Miss Judy
+Kean,&rdquo; laughed Professor Green, who never
+loved his mother-in-law more than when, as old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+Aunt Mary expressed it, &ldquo;her nose was a-wuckin&rsquo;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Blame her! No, indeed! If I were her age,
+I&rsquo;d do exactly what she is doing, but I should
+certainly have expected Molly&rsquo;s father to come
+over and protect me while I was being so foolhardy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Judy doesn&rsquo;t say she is going as a nurse,&rdquo; said
+Molly, referring to the letter. &ldquo;Jo Williams is
+to fly and Judy seems uncertain what she is going
+to do,&mdash;just see the fight, as far as I can
+make out. I know Judy so well I just can&rsquo;t feel
+uneasy about her. You mustn&rsquo;t think I am mercenary,
+Mother, or careless of my friend. Judy
+always lands on her feet and is as much of an
+adept in getting out of scrapes as she is in getting
+in them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My darling, of course I didn&rsquo;t mean you were
+mercenary,&rdquo; cried Mrs. Brown, seeing in Molly&rsquo;s
+blue eyes a little hurt look at the vigorous tone
+she had taken when Molly merely suggested expense.
+&ldquo;I just think in your desire to think well
+of every one, nations as well as individuals, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
+you are blind to the terrors of this war. If Judy
+will only go to Sally Bolling, she will be taken
+care of. I fancy Sally is at La Roche Craie
+now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I had forgotten to think of what this
+must mean to Cousin Sally!&rdquo; exclaimed Molly.
+&ldquo;The truth of the matter is that it is so peaceful
+here my imagination cannot picture what it is
+over there. I am growing selfish with contentment.
+Of course Philippe d&rsquo;Ochtè will join his
+regiment and poor Cousin Sally and the Marquis
+will suffer agonies over him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes and over France!&rdquo; said Edwin solemnly.
+&ldquo;I remember so well a conversation I had with
+the Marquis d&rsquo;Ochtè on the subject of his country.
+I believe he really and truly puts his country
+above even his adored wife and son. That
+is more patriotism than I could be capable
+of&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not a bit of it, my dear Edwin,&rdquo; broke in Mrs.
+Brown.</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0b">&ldquo;&lsquo;I could not love thee half so well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loved I not honour more.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p>
+<p>&ldquo;Molly and your little baby Mildred are but a
+part of your country, and if the time should come
+and your country called you, you would answer
+the call just as I hope my own sons would.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mother, you are a Spartan! I am not
+so brave, I am afraid,&rdquo; said Molly. &ldquo;Even now
+at the thought of war, I am thanking God my
+Mildred baby is a girl.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Little Mildred, at mention of her name, although
+it would be many a day before she would
+know what her name was, awakened and gave an
+inarticulate gurgle. Mrs. Brown dropped the
+rôle of Spartan Mother and turned into a doting
+grandmother in the twinkling of an eye.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And was um little tootsie wootsies cold?
+Come to your Granny and let her warm them.
+Molly, this baby has grown a foot, I do believe,
+and look what a fine, strong, straight back she
+has! And does oo want your Granny to rub
+your back? Only look, her eyes have brown lights
+in them! I said all the time she would have brown
+eyes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And not Molly&rsquo;s blue eyes! Oh, Mother, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
+is very bad news to me. Why, the baby&rsquo;s eyes are
+as blue as the sea now. They could not change,&rdquo;
+and Edwin Green peered into his offspring&rsquo;s face
+with such intentness that the little thing began
+to whimper.</p>
+
+<p>The proper indignation being expressed by the
+females and the baby dangled until smiles came
+and a crow, Mrs. Brown informed the ignorant
+father that all young animals have blue eyes and
+there is no determining the actual colour of a
+baby&rsquo;s eyes until it is several months old, but that
+the minute brown or golden lights begin to appear
+in blue eyes, you can get ready to declare
+for a brown-eyed youngster.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, she will surely have Molly&rsquo;s hair,&rdquo; he
+insisted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That we can&rsquo;t tell, either,&rdquo; said the all-knowing
+grandmother. &ldquo;You see, she is almost bald
+now except for this tiny fringe that is rapidly
+being worn off in the back. That does seem a
+little pinkish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pinkish! Oh, Mother-in-law, what a word to
+express my Molly&rsquo;s hair!&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t you see she is getting even with you
+for making Mildred almost cry?&rdquo; laughed Molly.
+&ldquo;I know she is going to have my hair because
+when you slip a little bit of blue under that little
+lock that is on the side, where it hasn&rsquo;t rubbed
+off, the &lsquo;pink&rsquo; comes out quite plainly. My Mildred
+will be a belle. I have always heard it said
+that a girl with brown eyes and golden hair is
+born to be a belle. Oh, yes, I will call the baby&rsquo;s
+hair golden although I have always called my
+own red.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know whether I want her to be a belle
+or not,&rdquo; objected Edwin. &ldquo;She might be frivolous.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Frivolous with your eyes! Heavens, Daddy,
+she couldn&rsquo;t be!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown contentedly smiled and rocked the
+baby, who crowed and cooed and kicked her
+pretty pink tootsies. The sun shone on the orchard
+home and a particularly obliging mocking
+bird burst into song from one of the gnarled old
+apple trees, heavy with its luscious fruit. Mocking
+birds are supposed not to sing in August, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+sometimes they do, and when they do, their song
+is as wonderful and welcome as an unlooked-for
+legacy.</p>
+
+<p>Molly looked over the fields of waving blue
+grass to the dark beech woods that bordered the
+pasture, a feeling of great happiness and contentment
+in her heart. How peaceful and sweet was
+life! She leaned against her husband, who put
+an ever-ready arm around her, and together they
+gazed on the fruitful landscape. Mrs. Brown
+crooned to the baby a song ever dear to her own
+children and one that had been sung to her by her
+own negro mammy.</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0a">&ldquo;Mammy went away&mdash;she tol&rsquo; me ter stay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An&rsquo; tek good keer er de baby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She tol&rsquo; me ter stay an&rsquo; sing dis away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, go ter sleep! sleepy little baby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kaze when yer wake, yo&rsquo;ll git some cake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An&rsquo; ride a little white horsey!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We&rsquo;ll stop up de cracks an&rsquo; sew up de seams&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">De Booger Man never shall ketch you!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, go ter sleep an&rsquo; dream sweet dreams&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">De Booger Man never shall ketch you!<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, go ter sleep! sleepy little baby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kaze when you wake, you&rsquo;ll git some cake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">An&rsquo; lots er nice sugar candy!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>How could whole countries be at war and such
+peace reign in any spot on the globe?</p>
+
+<p>The whirr of an approaching motor awoke
+them from their musings and stopped the delightful
+song before one-third of the stanzas had been
+sung. It was Kent with John in the doctor&rsquo;s little
+runabout.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My boy! my boy!&rdquo; and Mrs. Brown dropped
+the baby in her basket and flew across the grass
+to greet the long-absent Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I couldn&rsquo;t wait for Paul but had to get old Dr.
+John to bring me out. Mumsy, how plump and
+pink you are. I declare you look almost as young
+as the new baby,&rdquo; said Kent after the first raptures
+of greeting were over. &ldquo;And Molly, you
+look great! And &rsquo;Fessor Green, I declare you are
+getting fat. I bet you have gained at least three-quarters
+of a pound since you got married. Positively
+obese!&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You haven&rsquo;t said much about the baby,&rdquo; objected
+Molly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, there&rsquo;s not much to say, is there? She
+is an omnivorous biped, I gather, from the two
+feet I can see and her evident endeavor to eat
+them, at least, I fancy that is why she is kicking
+so high. She has got Edwin&rsquo;s er&mdash;er&mdash;well&mdash;his
+high forehead&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She is not nearly so bald-headed as you were
+yourself,&rdquo; declared his mother. &ldquo;You were such
+a lovely baby, Kent, the loveliest of all my babies,
+I believe. I always adored a bald-headed
+baby and you had a head like a little billiard ball.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They all laughed at this and Kent confessed
+that if he had been bald-headed himself, he believed
+the little Mildred must be, after all, very
+charming.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Any letters for me?&rdquo; he asked, and Molly
+thought she detected a note of anxiety below all
+the nonsense he had been talking.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, I have not seen any.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, have you heard from&mdash;from Judy
+Kean?&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; confessed Molly. &ldquo;I got a letter to-day.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Please may I see it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, of course you may.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But Molly felt a great reluctance to show
+Julia Kean&rsquo;s letter to her brother. She knew very
+well he was uneasy already about their friend
+and was certain this letter would only heighten
+his concern. Kent was looking brown and
+sturdy; he seemed to her to have grown even
+taller than the six feet one he already measured
+when he went abroad. His boyish countenance
+had taken on more purpose and his jaw had an
+added squareness. His deep set grey eyes had a
+slight cloud in them that Molly and her mother
+hated to see.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is Judy, of course,&rdquo; they said to themselves.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I landed my job in New York,&rdquo; he said, as he
+opened the little blue envelope.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Splendid!&rdquo; exclaimed Molly.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown tried to say splendid, too, but the
+thought came to her: &ldquo;Another one going away
+from home!&rdquo; and she could only put her arm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
+around her boy&rsquo;s neck and press a kiss on his
+brown head.</p>
+
+<p>They were all very quiet while Kent read the
+letter. Dr. John, alone, seemed disinterested.
+He very professionally poked the infant in the
+ribs to see how fat she had grown and, also, much
+to the indignation of Molly, went through some
+tests for idiocy, which, of course, the tiny baby
+could not pass.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER III.<br />
+
+<small>KENT BROWN.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother, will you come and take a little walk
+with me?&rdquo; asked Kent as he finished Judy&rsquo;s letter.
+With his hand trembling, although his eyes
+were very steady and his mouth very firm, he
+tucked the many thin blue sheets back in their
+envelope.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, my son!&rdquo; Mrs. Brown held her head very
+high and in her expression one could very well
+read: &ldquo;I told you so! Did I not know the &lsquo;mettle
+of his pasture&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother,&rdquo; he said, as he drew her arm in his
+and they took their way through the orchard to
+the garden of Chatsworth, &ldquo;I must go get Judy!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, my son, of course you must.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mother, you think it is the only thing to
+do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course, I know it is the only thing to do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+I told Molly and Edwin only a few minutes ago
+that you would want to do it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what a mother! I&mdash;well, you know,
+Mother, I am not engaged to Judy&mdash;not exactly,
+that is. She knows how I feel about her and
+somehow&mdash;I can&rsquo;t say for sure&mdash;but I almost
+know she feels the same way about me, at least,
+feels somehow about me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course she does! How could she help it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see, I knew it would be some time before
+I could make a decent living, and it did not seem
+fair to Judy to tie her down when maybe she
+might strike some fellow who would be so much
+more worth while than I am&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I used to think maybe Pierce Kinsella would
+be her choice, when they painted together so
+much.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That boy! Why, Kent, how could you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, he was a very handsome and brilliant
+boy and is pretty well fixed by his uncle&rsquo;s generosity
+and bids fair to make one of the leading
+portrait painters of the day. His portrait of you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
+has made every lady who has seen it want him to
+do one of her. Of course, he can&rsquo;t make all of
+&rsquo;em look like you, but he does his best.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It may have been wise of you not to settle this
+little matter with Judy, son, but somehow&mdash;I
+wish you had.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was hard not to, but I felt she was so far
+away from her parents. I thought she would be
+back in America in a month, at least. I wanted
+her to come with me, but she felt she must wait
+for them, and of course, I had to hurry back because
+of the possible job in New York. I am
+afraid that I will lose that now, but there will be
+others, and I just can&rsquo;t think of the things that
+might happen to my Judy&mdash;she is my Judy,
+whether we are engaged or not.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When will you start, son?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, to-night, if you don&rsquo;t mind.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly to-night! I have money for
+you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mother, the money part is the only thing
+worrying me. I have a little left, but not enough
+to get me over and back. I must have enough to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
+bring Judy back, too. You see, a letter of credit
+now in Paris is not worth the paper it is on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, I did not know. That is the one part of
+Judy&rsquo;s letter that put me at ease about her. I
+thought she had plenty of money, and money certainly
+does help out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that is the part of her letter that made
+me know I must go get her. The Americans who
+are abroad simply can&rsquo;t get checks cashed. She
+might even be hungry, poor little Judy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank goodness, I have some money&mdash;all
+owing to Judy&rsquo;s father, too! If he had not seen
+the bubbles on that puddle in the rocky pasture,
+we would never have known there was oil there.
+What better could we do with the money that Mr.
+Kean got for us than use it to succor his
+daughter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mother, you are so&mdash;so&mdash;bully! I know
+no other word to express what you are. I am
+going to pay back every cent I borrow from you.
+Thank goodness, I saved a little from the money
+I made on the architectural sketches I did for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>
+article Dickson wrote on the French country
+homes. I&rsquo;m going over steerage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are going over in the first class cabin!
+Steerage, indeed! I lend no money for such a
+trip.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, Mother! You are the boss. And
+now, don&rsquo;t you think I&rsquo;ll have time to go see Aunt
+Mary a few minutes?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course you must go see the poor old
+woman. She has been afraid she would not live
+until you got home. She is very feeble. Dear
+old Aunt Mary!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They had reached the Chatsworth garden and
+Kent noticed with delight the hollyhocks that had
+flourished wonderfully since he had dug them up
+that moonlight night more than three years ago
+and transplanted them from the chicken yard,
+where no one ever saw them, to the beds in the
+garden, and all because Miss Julia Kean had regretted
+that they were not there to make a background
+for the bridal party, after they had determined
+to have Mildred&rsquo;s wedding out of
+doors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t they come on wonderfully? I know
+Judy would like to see how well they have done.
+I think hollyhocks are the most decorative of all
+flowers. I wonder we never had them in the garden
+before, Mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Both of them were thinking of Mildred&rsquo;s wedding
+on that rare day in June. Kent remembered
+with some satisfaction that in the general confusion
+that ensued after Mildred and Crit were pronounced,
+by Dr. Peters, to be man and wife, and
+everybody was kissing everybody else, he had had
+presence of mind to take advantage of the license
+accorded on the occasion of a family wedding
+and had kissed his sister Molly&rsquo;s college friend,
+Miss Julia Kean.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By Jove! I think war ought to give a fellow
+some privilege, too,&rdquo; he declared to himself. &ldquo;I
+think I&rsquo;ll do the same when I see the young lady
+in France.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They found Aunt Mary lying in state in a
+great four poster bed, while her meek half-sister,
+Sukey Jourdan, administered to her wants, which
+were many and frequent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lawsamussy, if that ain&rsquo;t that there Kent!
+Whar you come from, son? I done got so old an&rsquo;
+feeble I can&rsquo;t say mister ter nobody. You alls is
+all Ernest and Sue and Paul and John and Mildred
+and Kent and Molly ter me. Cepn Molly is
+Molly Baby. I still got strenth fer that. Law,
+Miss Milly, ain&rsquo;t he growed?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Aunt Mary, he is looking so well, and
+now he is going to turn right around and go back
+to France to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t say it! Lawsamussy, Miss Milly, did
+he fergit somethin&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, not exactly,&rdquo; laughed Kent, &ldquo;but I
+didn&rsquo;t bring something with me that I should
+have.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you be sho ter make a cross an&rsquo; spit in
+it. If&rsquo;n you fergits somethin&rsquo; er fin&rsquo;s you has ter
+tu&rsquo;n aroun&rsquo; an&rsquo; go back &rsquo;thout res&rsquo;in&rsquo; a piece, if&rsquo;n
+you makes a cross an&rsquo; spits in it, you is sho ter
+have good luck. Here you, Sukey, set a better
+cheer for Miss Milly. Wherfo&rsquo; you done give
+her sich a straight up&rsquo;n down cheer?&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, this will do very well, Sukey,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+Brown.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You bring another, Sukey. I don&rsquo; see what
+makes you so keerless. I low if&rsquo;n &rsquo;twar that no
+count Buck Jourdan, you&rsquo;d be drawin&rsquo; up the sofy
+fer his triflin&rsquo; bones.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Sukey had no easy job to keep Aunt Mary
+satisfied. The old woman, having been a most
+energetic and tireless person in her day, could not
+understand that the whole world of darkeys could
+not be as she had been. Sukey&rsquo;s son Buck, the
+apple of her mild eye, was the bane of Aunt
+Mary&rsquo;s existence. She never missed a chance to
+make her younger half-sister miserable on his
+account. Indeed, Sukey, mild as she was, would
+not have stayed with Aunt Mary except for the
+fact that Aunt Mary had insured her life for her
+with the understanding that she was to minister
+to her to the end. It was dearly paid for, this
+service, as the old woman was most exacting.
+Lenient to a degree of softness with white folks,
+she was adamant with those of her own race.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you feel, Aunt Mary?&rdquo; asked Kent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
+looking with sorrow on the wasted features of the
+beloved old woman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;m a feelin&rsquo; tolerable peart this mornin&rsquo;
+although endurin&rsquo; of the night I thought my hour
+had struck. I got ter dreamin&rsquo; &rsquo;bout my fun&rsquo;ral,
+an&rsquo; I got so mad cause Sis Ria Bowles done
+brought a fun&rsquo;ral zine like one she done tuck ter
+Brer Jackson&rsquo;s orgies! An&rsquo; dead or not, I wa&rsquo;nt
+gonter stan&rsquo; fer no sich monkey shines over me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, what did she take to Brother Jackson&rsquo;s
+funeral?&rdquo; laughed Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ain&rsquo;t you heard tel er that? She cut a cross
+outn that there sticky tangle yo&rsquo; foot fly paper en&rsquo;
+she kivered it all over with daisy haids an&rsquo; call
+herse&rsquo;f bringing a zine. I riz up an&rsquo; spoke my
+mind in my dream an&rsquo; I let all these here niggers
+in Jeff&rsquo;son County know that if they
+don&rsquo;t see that I gits a fust class fun&rsquo;ral, I gonter
+rise up when I ain&rsquo;t a dreamin&rsquo; an&rsquo; speak
+my min&rsquo;.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sukey Jourdan listened to this tirade with her
+eyes bulging out of her head, much to Aunt
+Mary&rsquo;s satisfaction, as she very well knew that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
+the way to manage her race was to intimidate
+them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I done been carryin&rsquo; insuriance in two clubs
+an&rsquo; a comp&rsquo;ny, an&rsquo; betwixt &rsquo;em I&rsquo;s entitled ter seventeen
+hacks. I&rsquo;m a trustin&rsquo; ter Miss Milly an&rsquo;
+that there Paul ter make &rsquo;em treat me proper.
+Paul done say he will black list &rsquo;em in his newspaper
+if&rsquo;n they leave off one tit or jottle from the
+&rsquo;greement. I sho would like ter see my fun&rsquo;ral.
+I low it&rsquo;s a goin&rsquo; ter be pretty stylish. I done
+pinted my pall buriers an&rsquo; bought they gloves an&rsquo;
+I low ter be laid out myself in my best black silk
+what Miss Milly done gimme goin&rsquo; on sixteen
+year, come nex&rsquo; Christmas. I ain&rsquo;t a wo&rsquo; it much,
+as I had in min&rsquo; ter save it fer my buryin&rsquo;. Some
+of the mimbers gits buried in palls made er white
+silk. They do look right han&rsquo;some laid out in
+&rsquo;em, but then palls is made &rsquo;thout a piece er back
+an&rsquo; I has a notion that when Gabrel blows his
+trump on that great an&rsquo; turrerble day that ole
+Mary Morton ain&rsquo;t a goin&rsquo; ter be caught without
+no back ter her grabe clothes. It mought make
+no diffrunce if&rsquo;n Peter will let me pass on in,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+&rsquo;cause I low that the shining robes will be a
+waitin&rsquo; fer me&mdash;but sposin&rsquo;&mdash;jes&rsquo; sposin&rsquo;&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+and the dear old woman&rsquo;s face clouded over with
+anguish, &ldquo;jes&rsquo; sposin&rsquo; Peter&rsquo;ll say: &lsquo;You, Mary
+Morton, g&rsquo;long from this here portcullis. You
+blongs in the tother d&rsquo;rection,&rsquo; an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ll hab ter tun
+&rsquo;roun&rsquo; an&rsquo; take the broad road ter hell! What&rsquo;ll I
+feel like, if&rsquo;n I ain&rsquo;t got no back ter my frock?
+No, sir! I&rsquo;s a goin&rsquo; ter have on a dress complete.
+It mought be that Peter&rsquo;ll think better er me if I
+shows him sech a spectful back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You not get in Heaven!&rdquo; exclaimed Kent.
+&ldquo;Why, Aunt Mary, there wouldn&rsquo;t be any Heaven
+for all of us bad Brown boys if you weren&rsquo;t
+there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, now them is words of comfort what
+beats the preacher&rsquo;s. I done always been b&rsquo;lievin&rsquo;
+in &rsquo;fluence an&rsquo; I mought er knowed my white
+folks would look arfter me on the las&rsquo; day jes as
+much as ever. I kin git in as Miss Milly&rsquo;s cook
+if&rsquo;n th&rsquo;aint no other way. I been a &rsquo;lowing whin
+I gits ter Heaven I wouldn&rsquo;t have ter work no
+more, but sence I been a laid up in the baid so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+long I gin ter think that work would tas&rsquo;e
+right sweet. Cookin&rsquo; in Heaven wouldn&rsquo;t be so
+hard with plenty of &rsquo;gredients ter han&rsquo; and no
+scrimpin&rsquo; and scrougin&rsquo; of &rsquo;terials. A lan&rsquo;
+flowin&rsquo; with milk an&rsquo; honey mus&rsquo; have aigs an&rsquo;
+butter. Here you, Sukey Jourdan! Whar
+you hidin&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here I is, Sis Ma&rsquo;y, I jes&rsquo; stepped in the shed
+room ter men&rsquo; the fire ginst &rsquo;twas time ter knock
+up a bite er dinner fer you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, while I&rsquo;s a thinkin&rsquo; of it, I want you to
+git my bes&rsquo; linen apron outn the chist&mdash;the one
+with the insertioning let in &rsquo;bove the hem, an&rsquo; put
+it in the highboy drawer with my bes&rsquo; black silk.
+I low I&rsquo;ll be laid out in a apron, &rsquo;cause if&rsquo;n I can&rsquo;t
+git inter Heaven no other way, I am a thinkin&rsquo;
+with a clean white apron on I kin slip in as a good
+cook.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dear Aunt Mary, you have been as good as
+gold all your life,&rdquo; declared Mrs. Brown, wiping
+a tear from her eye, but smiling in spite of herself
+at Aunt Mary&rsquo;s quaint idea of a way to gain an
+entrance through the pearly gates.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Aunt Mary had had many doubts about her being
+saved and had spent many weary nights, terrified
+at the thought of dying and perhaps not being
+fit for Heaven, but now that she had thought of
+wearing the apron, all doubts of her desirability
+were set at rest; indeed, her last days were filled
+with peace since she felt now that even Peter
+could not turn back a good cook.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must be going, Aunt Mary,&rdquo; said Kent, taking
+the old woman&rsquo;s withered hand in his strong
+grasp. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be home again in a few weeks, I
+fancy, maybe sooner.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They&rsquo;s one thing I ain&rsquo;t arsked you yit: whar&rsquo;s
+that there Judy gal? I been a dreamin&rsquo; you
+would bring her back with you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She is the thing I am going back to France
+for, Aunt Mary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sho nuf? Well, well! They do tell me
+they&rsquo;s fightin&rsquo; goin&rsquo; on in some er them furren
+parts. Sholy Miss Judy ain&rsquo;t nigh the fightin&rsquo;
+an&rsquo; fussin&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I am afraid she is. That&rsquo;s the reason I
+must go for her.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Kent son! Don&rsquo;t you git into no scrap
+yo&rsquo;sef. It&rsquo;s moughty hard fer young folks ter
+look on at a scrap &rsquo;thout gittin&rsquo; mixed up in it.
+Don&rsquo;t you git too clost, whin you is lookin&rsquo;, either.
+Them what looks on sometimes gits the deepes&rsquo;
+razor cuts with the back han&rsquo; licks. You pick up
+that gal an&rsquo; bring her back ter you&rsquo; maw jes&rsquo; as
+fas&rsquo; as yo&rsquo; legs kin carry you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll try to,&rdquo; laughed Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t try! Jes&rsquo; do it! That there Judy gal
+is sho nice an&rsquo; &rsquo;ristocratic, considerin&rsquo; she ain&rsquo;t
+never had no home. She done tell me whin she
+was here to little Miss Milly&rsquo;s weddin&rsquo; that she
+an&rsquo; her folks ain&rsquo;t never lived in nothin&rsquo; but
+rented houses. That&rsquo;s moughty queer to me, but
+&rsquo;cose niggers don&rsquo;t understan&rsquo; ev&rsquo;y thing. Well,
+you tell her that ole Mary Morton say she better
+pick up an&rsquo; come back to Chatswuth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I certainly will, Aunt Mary, and good-by!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman put her hand on his bowed
+head for a moment, and while she said nothing,
+Kent took it for a benediction.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.<br />
+
+<small>AFTERNOON TEA.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Molly had established the custom of afternoon
+tea in her orchard home, and while she had been
+greatly teased by her brothers for introducing
+this English custom into Kentucky country life,
+they one and all turned up on her porch for tea if
+they were in the neighborhood.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is one place where a fellow can always find
+some talk and a place to air his views,&rdquo; declared
+John, as he reached for another slice of bread and
+butter. &ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t the food so much as the being
+gathered together.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you are gathering a good deal of food
+together in spite of your contempt for it,&rdquo; put in
+Paul. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the sixth slice! I have kept tab
+on you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why not? I always think plain bread and
+butter is about the best thing there is.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, why not?&rdquo; asked Molly, calling her little
+cook Kizzie to prepare another plate of the desirable
+article. &ldquo;Aunt Clay, you had better change
+your mind and have some tea and bread and
+butter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Sarah Clay had driven over in state from
+her home when she heard Kent had arrived. She
+wanted to hear the latest news, also to tender her
+advice as to what he was to do now. She presented
+the same uncompromising front as of yore,
+although her back had given way somewhat to
+the weight of years. Judy Kean always said she
+had a hard face and a soft figure. This soft figure
+she poured into tight basques, evidently determined
+to try to make it live up to her face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tea!&rdquo; she exclaimed indignantly. &ldquo;I never
+eat between meals.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But this is a meal, in a way,&rdquo; said Molly hospitably
+bent, as was her wont, on feeding people.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A meal! Whoever heard of tea and bread
+and butter comprising a meal?&rdquo; and the stern
+aunt stalked to the end of the porch where the
+baby lay in her basket, kicking her pink heels in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+the air in an ecstasy of joy over being in the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly, this baby has on too few clothes.
+What can you be thinking of, having the child
+barefooted and nothing on but this muslin slip
+over her arms? She is positively blue with
+cold.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly flew to her darling but found her glowing
+and warm. &ldquo;Why, Aunt Clay, only feel her
+hands and feet! She is as warm as toast. The
+doctor cautioned me against wrapping her up too
+much. He says little babies are much warmer
+than we are.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, have your own way! Of course, although
+I am older than your mother, I know
+nothing at all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Aunt Clay&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Molly! She could never do or say anything
+to suit her Aunt Clay. She looked regretfully
+at the old lady&rsquo;s indignant back as she left
+her and joined Kent, who was sitting on a settle
+with his mother, holding her hand, both of them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
+very quiet amidst the chatter around the tea table.
+They made room for their relative, who
+immediately began her catechism of Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why did you not come home sooner?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Because I had some work to do, sketches illustrating
+an article on French country houses.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Humph! Did you get paid for them?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Aunt Clay!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, what are your plans?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have landed a job in New York with a firm
+of architects, that is, I had landed it, but I am not
+so sure now since&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good! You feel that you had better stay at
+home and look after Chatsworth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no! I am sure I could not be much of a
+farmer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Could not because you would not! If I were
+your mother, I would insist on one of you staying
+at home and running the place.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ernest is thinking of coming back, giving up
+engineering and trying intensive farming on
+Chatsworth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ernest, indeed! And why should he have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+wasted all these years in some other profession
+if he means to farm?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you see,&rdquo; said Kent very patiently because
+of the pressure he felt from his mother&rsquo;s
+gentle hand, &ldquo;farming takes money and there
+wasn&rsquo;t any money. Ernest always did want to
+farm, but it was necessary for him to make some
+money first. Now he has saved and invested and
+has something to put in the land, and he is
+devoutly hoping to get out more than he
+puts in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If putting something in the land means expensive
+machinery, I can tell him now that he
+will waste money buying it. But there is no use
+in telling Ernest anything&mdash;he is exactly like
+Sue: very quiet, does not answer back when his
+elders and betters address him, but, like Sue, goes
+his own way. Sue is very headstrong and simply
+twists my husband&rsquo;s nephew around her finger.
+I was very much disappointed in Cyrus
+Clay. I thought he had more backbone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sue Brown, now Mrs. Cyrus Clay, had been
+the one member of the Brown family who always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+got on with the stern Aunt Clay; and Kent and
+his mother were sorry to hear the old lady express
+any criticism of Sue. It seemed that Sue
+had done nothing more serious than to persuade
+Cyrus to join the Country Club, but it was
+against Mrs. Sarah Clay&rsquo;s wishes, and anything
+that opposed her was headstrong and consequently
+wicked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But to return to you&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; Kent let a sigh escape
+him as he had hoped he had eluded further
+catechism, &ldquo;what are you going to do now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, to-night I go back to New York, and
+day after to-morrow I take a French steamer for
+Havre.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Havre! Are you crazy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you going to do in France with this
+war going on?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am not quite sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was too much for the irate old lady, so
+without making any adieux, she took her departure,
+scorning the polite assistance of her three
+nephews. Professor Green called her coachman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+and helped her into the great carriage she still
+held to, the kind seen now-a-days only in
+museums.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kent, how could you?&rdquo; laughed Mrs. Brown,
+in spite of her attempt to look shocked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think Kent was right,&rdquo; declared Molly.
+&ldquo;How could he tell Aunt Clay he was going to
+France to get Judy? She would never have let
+up on it. I&rsquo;m glad she has gone, anyhow! We
+were having a very nice time without her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly!&rdquo; and Mrs. Brown looked shocked.
+She always exacted a show of respect from her
+children to this very difficult elder sister Sarah.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mumsy, we have to break loose sometimes!&rdquo;
+exclaimed Molly. &ldquo;The idea of her saying
+Mildred was blue with cold! Criticising poor
+Sue, too! Goodness, I&rsquo;d hate to be the one that
+Aunt Clay had taken a shine to. I&rsquo;d almost
+rather have her despise me as she does.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not despise you, Molly,&mdash;you don&rsquo;t understand
+your Aunt Clay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, perhaps not, but she puts up a mighty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+good imitation of despising. I think it is because
+I look so like Cousin Sally Bolling and she never
+forgave the present Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè for making
+fun of her long years ago. And then to
+crown it all, Cousin Sally got the inheritance
+from Greataunt Sarah Carmichael and married
+the Marquis, at least she married the Marquis
+and then got the inheritance. It was too much
+for Aunt Clay.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown looked so pained that Molly
+stopped her tirade. Aunt Clay was the one person
+whom Molly could not love. She had a heart
+as big as all out doors but it was not big enough
+to hold Aunt Clay.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here comes Sue! How glad I am! She
+&rsquo;phoned she would be here before so very long.
+What a blessing she missed Aunt Clay! See, she
+is running the car herself and isn&rsquo;t it a beauty?
+Cyrus just got it for her and Sue runs it wonderfully
+well already. I forgot to write you about
+it, Kent. But best of all! What do you think?
+Cyrus has had the muddy lane that was the cause
+of Sue&rsquo;s hesitating whether to take him or not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+all drained and macadamized. The approach to
+Maxton is simply perfect now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good for Cyrus!&rdquo; said Kent, jumping up to
+meet his sister, who drove her big car through the
+gate and up the driveway as though she had been
+running an automobile all her life.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Only think, five Browns together again!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Paul, as they seated themselves on the
+porch of the bungalow after duly admiring the
+new car. Molly had Kizzie brew a fresh pot of
+tea and John was persuaded to eat some more
+thin slices of bread and butter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, five of you together again,&rdquo; said Mrs.
+Brown wistfully. &ldquo;Ah, me! I wish I could get
+all seven of you at Chatsworth once more. Indeed,
+I wish I had all of you back in the nursery
+again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But where would I come in then?&rdquo; said Edwin
+Green whimsically.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And little Mildred?&rdquo; from Molly, hugging
+her infant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And Sue&rsquo;s new car, not to mention Cyrus?&rdquo;
+teased Kent.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are right, children. I should be more of
+a philosopher.</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0b">&ldquo;&lsquo;The Moving Finger writes: and, having writ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Molly stood over Kent with a cup of steaming
+tea and taking her cue from her mother&rsquo;s quotation
+from the Rubaiyat and prompted by his
+knownothing attitude with his Aunt Clay, she got
+off the stanza:</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0a">&ldquo;Yesterday This Day&rsquo;s Madness did prepare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-morrow&rsquo;s Silence, Triumph, or Despair:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Drink! for you know not whence you came nor why:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER V.<br />
+
+<small>LETTERS FROM PARIS AND BERLIN.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>From Miss Julia Kean to Mrs. Edwin Green.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+Paris, and no idea of the date.<br />
+No fixed address, but the American<br />
+Club might reach me.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Molly darling:</p>
+
+<p>Things are moving so fast that even I can&rsquo;t
+quite catch on, and you know I am some mover
+myself. Jo and I came to Paris as I wrote you
+we would, but I haven&rsquo;t seen her since. She told
+me in as polite words as she could command that
+she couldn&rsquo;t be bothered with me any more. At
+least that was the trend of her remarks. She has
+the business before her of making up to look as
+much like a man as possible and then of being
+taken into the aviation school.</p>
+
+<p>I met an art student from Carlo Rossi&rsquo;s on the
+street and he told me Polly was already the proud<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+driver of an ambulance. Lots of the American
+art students have enlisted or joined the Red
+Cross. If I liked sick folks or nursing, I think
+I&rsquo;d join myself. I feel that I should be doing
+something while I wait to hear from Bobby. I
+hope to see the American Ambassador next week.
+He is simply floored under with duties just now.
+I don&rsquo;t want any help from him, but just to find
+out something about Bobby and Mamma.</p>
+
+<p>If you could see Paris now! Oh, Molly, our
+gay, beautiful, eternally youthful city has grown
+suddenly sad and middle-aged. There is no
+gaiety or frivolity now. Her step has changed
+from a dance to a march. Her laughter has
+turned to weeping, but silent weeping&mdash;she makes
+no outcry but one knows the tears are there.
+Her beautiful festive clothes are laid away and
+now there is nothing but khaki and mourning.
+The gallant little soldier is to discard his flaming
+red trousers and blue coat for khaki. The German
+finds him too easy a mark.</p>
+
+<p>I begin to tremble for Paris, but strange to say
+I have no fear for myself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I have seen the Ambassador! He was very
+grave when I told him about Bobby. There was
+some English capital involved in the railroad that
+Bobby was to build in Turkey, and for that reason
+there may be some complication. He is to
+communicate with Gerard immediately. In the
+meantime, he advises me to go home. I told him
+I had no home, but would wait here until I found
+out something. He asked me if I had plenty of
+money and I told him yes, indeed, my letter of
+credit was good for almost any amount. I had
+not had to draw on it as I had stocked up before
+I went to G&mdash;&mdash;&nbsp;to keep house with the Polly
+Perkinses. The Ambassador actually laughed at
+me. Do you know, I can&rsquo;t get any more money?
+What a fool I have been! I have been so taken
+up with Paris and the sights and sounds that
+money has never entered my head. I have quite
+a little left, though, and I intend to live on next
+to nothing.</p>
+
+<p>The Bents have left for America and have
+given me their key to use their studio as I see fit.
+Mrs. Bent wanted me to go with them, but I can&rsquo;t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+go until we hear from Gerard. Now I am back
+in the Rue Brea! It seems strange to be there
+again where we had such a glorious winter. The
+studio where Kent and Pierce Kinsella lived all
+last year is vacant. I don&rsquo;t know where Pierce
+is. Gone to war, perhaps!</p>
+
+<p>I spend the days on the streets, walking up and
+down, listening to the talk and watching the regiments
+as they move away. I ran across some old
+friends yesterday. You remember a wedding
+party I butted in on at St. Cloud that day I scared
+all of you so when I took the wrong train from
+Versailles and landed at Chartres? Well, I ran
+plump against the bride on Montparnasse (only
+she is no longer a bride but had a rosy infant over
+her shoulder). She came out of a little delicatessen
+shop and her husband in war togs followed
+her, and there I witnessed their parting. I seem
+fated to be present at every crisis in their lives.
+The girl did not recognize me but the young man
+did. I had danced with him in too mad a whirl
+for him to forget me. Then came the old father
+and his wife who looked like a member of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
+Commune. They keep the little shop, it seems.
+I shook hands with them and together we waited
+for the young man&rsquo;s regiment to come swinging
+down the street. With another embrace all
+around, even me, he caught step with his comrades
+and was gone. The bonnemère clasped her
+daughter-in-law to her grenadier-like bosom and
+they mingled their tears, the rosy baby gasping
+for breath between the two. The old father
+turned to me:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is different from the last time we met,
+ma&rsquo;mselle!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, so different!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in and have a bite and sup with us.
+There is still something to eat in Paris besides
+horse flesh.&rdquo; His wife and daughter-in-law
+joined him in the invitation and so I went in. I
+enjoyed the meal more than I can tell you. The
+grenadier is some cook and although the fare was
+simple, it was so well seasoned and appetizing
+that I ate as I have not done since I got back to
+Paris. The truth of the matter is, I am living
+so cheap for fear of getting out of money and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
+am afraid I have been neglecting my inner man.
+I can&rsquo;t cook a thing myself, which is certainly
+trifling of me, and so have depended on restaurants
+for sustenance. I dressed the salad (you
+remember it is my one accomplishment) and it
+met with the approval of host and hostess.</p>
+
+<p>I told them of my trouble and how I felt I must
+wait until I heard something definite of my
+mother and father, and they were all sympathy.
+I have promised to come to them if I get into
+difficulty, and you don&rsquo;t know the comfortable
+feeling I have now that I have some adopted
+folks.</p>
+
+<p>I might go to the Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè, but I know
+she has all on her hands and mind that she can
+attend to. I don&rsquo;t need anything but just companionship.
+I am such a gregarious animal that
+I must have folks.</p>
+
+<p>I am dying to hear from you and to know if
+Kent landed his job. Is he&mdash;well, angry with me
+for staying over? I would not have missed staying
+for anything, even if he should be put out.
+I can&rsquo;t believe he is, though. I had rather hoped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+for letters when the American mail came in this
+morning, but the man at the bank was very unfeeling
+and had nothing. Nobody seems to be
+getting any mail. I wonder if they are stopping
+it for some reason or other. I have a great mind
+to take this to some American who is fleeing and
+have it mailed in New York. I will do that very
+thing. Good by, Molly&mdash;don&rsquo;t be uneasy about
+me. You know my catlike nature of lighting on
+my feet.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span class="rght3">Your own,</span><br />
+<span class="rght1">Judy.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p class="r3">From Mr. Robert Kean to his Daughter Julia.</p>
+
+<p><span class="rght2">Berlin.</span><br /></p>
+
+<p>My dear Judy:</p>
+
+<p>I know you are intensely uneasy about us, but
+down in your heart you also know that we never
+get into scrapes we can&rsquo;t get out of, and we will
+get out of this. This letter will probably be postmarked
+Sweden but that does not mean I am
+there. In fact, I am in durance vile here in Berlin.
+I am allowed to walk around the streets and
+to pay my own living expenses but leave Berlin I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+cannot. Your mother can&rsquo;t leave, either&mdash;not
+that she would. You know how she thinks that
+she protects me and so she insists that she will
+stay. I am allowed to write no letters and can
+receive none. I am getting this off to you by a
+clever device of your mother&rsquo;s, which I shall not
+divulge now for fear it might be seized and thus
+get an innocent person in bad with this remarkable
+Government.</p>
+
+<p>I am kept here all because I know too much
+about the geography and topography of Turkey.
+Of course I have made careful maps of the proposed
+railroad from Constantinople, the one we
+have been trying to get the concessions for.
+Well, they have naturally seized the maps. But
+before I dreamed of the possibility of this war,
+for, like all of us fool Anglo Saxons, I have been
+nosing along like a mole, I had a talk with a high
+Prussian Muckamuck at dinner one evening
+about this proposed road and I drew the blame
+thing on the table cloth, and with bits of bread
+and salt cellars and what not I explained the
+whole topography of the country and the benefit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
+it would be to mankind to have this particular
+railroad built, financed by my particular company.
+That was where I &ldquo;broke my &rsquo;lasses pitcher.&rdquo; Of
+course, having surveyed the country and made
+the maps, at least, having had a finger in the pie
+from the beginning, I can reproduce those maps
+from memory, if not very accurately, at least, accurately
+enough to get the Germans going if that
+particular information should be needed by the
+Allies.</p>
+
+<p>Do you know what I see in this? Why, Turkey
+will be in this war before so very long.</p>
+
+<p>I am hungry for news. I feel that I will go
+mad if I can&rsquo;t get some information besides what
+is printed in these boot licking newspapers of
+Berlin. They speak of their soldiers as though
+they were avenging angels&mdash;avenging what?
+Avenging the insult Belgium offered them for not
+lying down and making a road of herself for them
+to walk over. Avenging France for not opening
+wide her gates and getting ready the Christmas
+dinner the Kaiser meant to eat in Paris. I&rsquo;d like
+to prepare his Christmas dinner, and surely I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
+would serve a hors-d&rsquo;&oelig;uvre of rough-on-rats, an
+entrée of ptomaines, and finish off with a dessert
+of hanging, which would be too sweet for him.
+Now just suppose this letter is seized and they see
+this above remark&mdash;what then? I must not be
+allowed to write my opinion of their ruler to my
+own daughter, but these Prussians who go to
+United States and get all they can from our country,
+feel at perfect liberty to publish newspapers
+vilifying our President and to burst into print at
+any moment about our men who are high in
+authority.</p>
+
+<p>Berlin is wild with enthusiasm and joy over her
+victories. Every Belgian village that is razed to
+the ground makes them think it is cause for a
+torch-light procession. I can&rsquo;t understand them.
+They can hardly be the same kindly folk we have
+so often stayed among. They are still kind, kind
+to each other and kind in a way to us and to all
+the strangers within their gates, but how they can
+rejoice over the reports of their victories I cannot
+see.</p>
+
+<p>They one and all believe that they were forced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
+to fight. They say France was marching to Berlin
+for the President to eat Christmas dinner
+here, and that Belgium had promised they should
+go straight through her gates unmolested and
+did not regard the agreement of neutrality. I
+say nonsense to such statements. At least I
+think nonsense. I really say very little for one
+who has so much to say. I am bubbling over to
+talk politics with some one. Your poor little
+mumsy listens to me but she never jaws back. I
+want some one to jaw back. I have promised her
+to keep off the subject with these Prussians.
+They are so violent and so on the lookout for
+treason. There is one thing I am sure of and
+that is that no Frenchman would want to eat
+Christmas dinner or any other kind of dinner
+here if he could eat it in Paris. I am sick of raw
+goose and blood pudding and Limburger cheese.</p>
+
+<p>As I write this tirade, I am wondering, my dear
+daughter, where you are. Did you go back to
+America with Kent Brown, who, you wrote me
+in your last letter, was sailing in a week, or are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+you in Paris? I hope not there! Since I see the
+transports of joy these law-abiding, home-loving
+citizens, women and men, can get in over an account
+of what seems to me mere massacre, I
+tremble to think what the soldiers are capable of
+in the lust of bloodshed.</p>
+
+<p>From the last bulletin, the Germans are certainly
+coming closer and closer to Paris. I hope
+they are lying in their report. They are capable
+of falsifying anything.</p>
+
+<p>I am trying to get hold of our Ambassador to
+get me out of this mess, but he is so busy it is hard
+to see him. I think he is doing excellent work
+and I feel it is best for me to wait and let the
+Americans who are in more urgent need get first
+aid. I have enough money to tide us over for a
+few weeks with very careful expenditure. Of
+course I can get no more, just like all the rest of,
+the Americans who are stranded here.</p>
+
+<p>I feel terribly restless for work. I don&rsquo;t know
+how to loaf, never did. I&rsquo;d go to work here at
+something, but I feel if I did, it would just mean
+that these Prussians could then spare one more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+man for their butchery, and I will at least not
+help them that much. Your mother and I are on
+the street a great deal. We walk up and down
+and go in and out of shops and sit in the parks.
+I keep moving as much as possible, not only because
+I am so restless but because I like to keep
+the stupid spy who is set to watch over me as busy
+as possible. He has some weird notion that I do
+not know he is ever near me. I keep up the farce
+and I give him many anxious moments. Yesterday
+I wrote limericks and nonsense verses on letter
+paper and made little boats of them and sent
+them sailing on the lake in the park. If you
+could have seen this man&rsquo;s excitement. He
+called in an accomplice and they fished out the
+boats and carefully concealing them, they got
+hold of a third spy to take them to the chief. I
+wonder what they made of:</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0a">&ldquo;The Window has Four little Panes:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But One have I.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Window Panes are in its Sash,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I wonder why!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>or this:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0a">&ldquo;I wish that my Room had a Floor&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I don&rsquo;t so much care for a Door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But this walking around<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Without touching the ground<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is getting to be quite a bore!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>I only wish I could see the translations of these
+foolish rhymes that must have been made before
+they could decide whether or not I had a bomb up
+my sleeve to put the Kaiser out with. Fancy this
+in German:</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0a">&ldquo;The poor benighted Hindoo,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He does the best he kindo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">He sticks to caste<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">From first to last;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pants he makes his skindo.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>Some of the ships sank and they had to get a
+boat hook and raise them. My nonsense seems
+to have had its effect. I saw in this morning&rsquo;s
+paper that some of the foreigners held in Berlin
+have gone crazy. I believe they mean me. I
+must think up some more foolishness. I feel that
+the more I occupy this spy who has me in charge,
+the better it is for the Allies. I try to be neutral
+but my stomach is rebelling at German food,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
+and who can be neutral with a prejudiced
+stomach?</p>
+
+<p>We are trying to cook in our room. You
+know what a wonder your little mumsy is at
+knocking up an omelette and making coffee and
+what not, and we also find it is much more economical
+to eat there all we can. When we are
+there, we are out of sight of the spy, who, of
+course, can&rsquo;t help his job, but neither can I help
+wanting to kick his broad bean. He is such a
+block-head. He reminds me of the Mechanician
+Man, in our comic papers: &ldquo;Brains he has nix.&rdquo;
+He is evidently doing just exactly what he has
+been wound up and set to do. I can&rsquo;t quite see
+why I should be such an important person that I
+should need a whole spy to myself. I can&rsquo;t get
+out of Berlin unless I fly out and I see no chance
+of that.</p>
+
+<p class="star">*******</p>
+
+<p>I have had my interview with the Ambassador.
+He sent for me, and the wonderful thing was
+that it was because of the ball you had set rolling
+in Paris. When one Ambassador gets in communication<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
+with another Ambassador, even when
+it is about as unimportant a thing as I am, there
+is something doing immediately. You must have
+made a hit, honey, with the powers in France,
+they got busy so fast. It seems that the Imperial
+Government is very leary about me. My
+being an American is the only thing that keeps
+me out of prison. They are kind of scared to
+put me there, but they won&rsquo;t let me go. I had
+to wait an hour even after I got sent for, and
+I enjoyed it thoroughly because it was raining
+hard and blowing like blazes and I knew that my
+bodyguard was having to take it. Indeed I
+could see him all the time across the strasse looking
+anxiously at the door where he had seen me
+disappear. I also had the delight of reading a
+two weeks old American newspaper that a very
+nice young clerk slipped to me. I suppose the
+American Legation gets its newspaper, war or
+no.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing can be done for me as yet. I have
+been very imprudent in my behaviour, reprehensible,
+in fact. The paper boats were most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+ill advised, especially the one that goes: &ldquo;My
+Window has Four little Panes.&rdquo; That is something
+to do with maps and a signal, it seems.
+&ldquo;The Window Panes are in its Sash,&rdquo; is most
+suggestive of information. Ah, well! They
+can&rsquo;t do more than just keep us here, and if our
+money gives out, it will be up to them to feed us.
+The time may come when I will be glad to get
+even blood pudding, but I can&rsquo;t think it.</p>
+
+<p>Your poor little mumsy, in spite of the years
+she has spent with me roughing it, still has a
+dainty appetite, and I believe she would as soon
+eat a live rat, as blood pudding or raw goose. She
+makes out with eggs and salad and coffee and
+toast. So far, provisions are plentiful. It is
+only our small purse that makes us go easy on
+everything. But if the war goes on (which, God
+willing, it will do, as a short war will mean the
+Germans are victorious), I can&rsquo;t see how provisions
+will remain plentiful. What is England
+doing, anyhow? She must be doing something,
+but she is doing it very slowly.</p>
+
+<p>Your being in Paris is a source of much uneasiness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+to us, but I can&rsquo;t say that I blame you.
+You are too much like me to want to get out
+of excitement. I feel sure you will take care
+of yourself and now that the French are waltzing
+in at such a rate, I have no idea that the
+Germans will ever reach Paris. After all, this
+letter is to be taken by a lady who is at the
+American Legation and mailed to Mrs. Edwin
+Green and through her sent to you. They could
+not get it directly to you in France, but no doubt
+it will finally reach you through your friend,
+Molly. I am trusting her to do it and I know
+she will do it if any one can, because she is certainly
+to be depended on to get her friends out of
+trouble. In the meantime, the Ambassador here
+is to communicate formally with the Ambassador
+in Paris, and he is to let you know that all is
+well with your innocent if imprudent parents.
+Of course, your mother could go home if she
+would, but you know her well enough to know
+she won&rsquo;t. In fact, there is some talk of making
+her go home, and she says if they start any
+such thing she is going to swear she can draw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+any map of Turkey that ever was known to
+man, and can do it with her eyes shut and her
+hands tied behind her.</p>
+
+<p>We both of us wish you were safe in Kentucky
+with your friends. We spend many nights
+talking of you and reproaching ourselves that we
+have left you so much to yourself. I don&rsquo;t see
+how we could help it in a way, but maybe I should
+have given up engineering and taken up preaching
+or been a tailor or something. Then I might
+have made a settled habitation for all of us.
+Your mumsy is writing you a long letter, too,
+so I must stop. She is quite disappointed not
+to use her clever scheme for getting the letter
+to you, and rather resents the lady at the Legation.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span class="rght3">Yours,</span><br />
+<span class="rght1">Bobby.</span><br />
+</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.<br />
+
+<small>AT THE TRICOTS&rsquo;.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>It took one month and three days for Judy
+to get the above letter, but her mind was set somewhat
+at rest long before that time by the Ambassador
+himself, who had learned through his
+confrère in Berlin that Mr. and Mrs. Kean were
+safe and at large, although not allowed to leave
+Berlin.</p>
+
+<p>The daughter was so accustomed to her parents
+being in dangerous places that she did not
+feel so concerned about them as an ordinary girl
+would have felt for ordinary parents. Ever since
+she could remember, they had been camping in
+out-of-the-way places and making hair-breadth
+escapes from mountain wild cats and native uprisings
+and what not. She could not believe the
+Germans, whom she had always thought of as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
+rather bovine, could turn into raging lions so
+completely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bobby will light on his feet!&rdquo; she kept saying
+to herself until it became almost like a prayer.
+&ldquo;No one could hurt Mamma. She will be protected
+just as children will be!&rdquo; And then came
+terrible, exaggerated accounts of the murder in
+cold blood of little children, and then the grim
+truth of the destruction of Louvain and Rheims,
+and anything seemed possible.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A nation that could glory in the destruction
+of such beautiful things as these cathedrals will
+stop at nothing.&rdquo; But still she kept on saying:
+&ldquo;Bobby will light on his feet! Bobby will light
+on his feet!&rdquo; She no longer trusted the Germans,
+but she had infinite faith in the sagacity and
+cleverness of her father. He always had got
+himself out of difficult and tight places and he
+always would.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, money was getting very low.
+Try as she would to economize, excitement made
+her hungry and she must eat and eat three times
+a day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I only had Molly Brown&rsquo;s skill and could
+cook for myself!&rdquo; she would groan as she tried
+to choke down the muddy concoction that she
+had just succeeded in brewing and was endeavoring
+to persuade herself tasted a little like coffee.
+She remembered with swimming eyes the beautiful
+little repasts they had had in the Bents&rsquo; studio
+during that memorable winter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Judy Kean, you big boob! I believe my soul
+you are going to bawl about a small matter of
+food. If the destruction of Louvain did not make
+you weep, surely muddy coffee ought not to bring
+tears to your eyes, unless maybe they are tears
+of shame.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The truth of the matter was, Judy was lonesome
+and idle. She could not make up her mind
+to paint. Things were moving too fast and there
+was too much reality in the air. Art seemed
+unreal and unnecessary, somehow. &ldquo;Great things
+will be painted after the war but not now,&rdquo; she
+would say. She carried her camera with her
+wherever she went and snapped up groups of
+women and children, soldiers kissing their old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+fathers, great ladies stopping to converse with
+the gamin of the street; anything and everything
+went into her camera. She spent more money
+on films than on food, in spite of her healthy
+hunger.</p>
+
+<p>On that morning in September as she cleared
+away the scraps from her meager breakfast, her
+eyes swimming from lonesomeness, appetite unappeased
+and a kind of nameless longing, she
+almost determined to throw herself on the mercy
+of the American Legation for funds to return to
+New York. The Americans had cleared out of
+Paris until there were very few left. Judy would
+occasionally see the familiar face of some art
+student she had known in the class, but those
+familiar faces grew less and less frequent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There&rsquo;s the Marquise! I can always go to
+her, but I know she is taken up with her grief
+over Philippe&rsquo;s going a soldiering,&rdquo; she thought
+as she put her plate and cup back on the shelf
+where the Bents kept their assortment of china.</p>
+
+<p>A knock at the door! Who could it be? No<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+mail came to her and no friends were left to
+come.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mam&rsquo;selle!&rdquo; and bowing low before her was
+the lean old partner of St. Cloud, Père Tricot.
+&ldquo;Mam&rsquo;selle, my good wife and I, as well as our
+poor little daughter-in-law, we all want you to
+come and make one of our humble menage.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Want me!&rdquo; exclaimed Judy, her eyes shining.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Mam&rsquo;selle,&rdquo; he said simply. &ldquo;We have
+talked it over and we think you are too young
+to be so much alone and then if&mdash;the&mdash;the&mdash;well,
+I have too much respect for Mam&rsquo;selle to call
+their name,&mdash;if they do get in Paris, I can protect
+you with my own women. I am not so old
+that I cannot hit many a lick yet&mdash;indeed, I would
+enlist again if they would have me; but my good
+wife says they may need me more here in Paris
+and I must rest tranquilly here and do the work
+for France that I can best do. Will you come,
+Mam&rsquo;selle?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come! Oh, Père Tricot, I&rsquo;ll be too glad to
+come. When?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Immediately!&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Judy&rsquo;s valise was soon packed and the studio
+carefully locked, the key handed over to the concierge,
+and she was arm in arm with her old
+friend on her way to her new home in the little
+shop on the Boulevarde Montparnasse.</p>
+
+<p>Mère Tricot, who looked like a member of the
+Commune but acted like a dear, kindly old Granny,
+took the girl to her bosom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What did I tell you? I knew she would come,&rdquo;
+she cried to her husband, who had hurried into
+the shop to wait on a customer. It was a delicatessen
+shop and very appetizing did the food
+look to poor Judy, who felt as though she had
+never eaten in her life.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me!&rdquo; he exclaimed as he weighed out
+cooked spinach to a small child who wanted two
+sous&rsquo; worth. &ldquo;Tell me, indeed! You said
+Mam&rsquo;selle would not walk on the street with an
+old peasant in a faded blouse if she would come
+at all, and I&mdash;I said Mam&rsquo;selle was what the
+Americans call a good sport and would walk on
+the street with an old peasant, if she liked him,
+in any kind of clothes he happened to be in, rags<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
+even. Bah! You were wrong and I was right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old Tricots were forever wrangling but
+it was always in a semi-humorous manner, and
+their great devotion to each other was always
+apparent. Judy found it was better never to
+take sides with either one as the moment she did
+both of them were against her.</p>
+
+<p>How homelike the little apartment was behind
+the shops! It consisted of two bed rooms, a living
+room which opened into the shop and a tiny
+tiled kitchen about the size of a kitchen on a
+dining car&mdash;so tiny that it seemed a miracle that
+all the food displayed so appetizingly in the windows
+and glass cases of the shop should have
+been prepared there.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is so good of you to have me and I want
+to come more than I can say, but you must let me
+board with you. I couldn&rsquo;t stay unless you do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is as you choose, Mam&rsquo;selle,&rdquo; said the
+old woman. &ldquo;We do not want to make money
+on you, but you can pay for your keep if you
+want to.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, Mother, but I must help some, help<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+in the shop or mind the baby, clean up the apartment,
+anything! I can&rsquo;t cook a little bit, but I
+can do other things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No woman can cook,&rdquo; asserted old Tricot.
+&ldquo;They lack the touch.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! Braggart! If I lay thee out with this
+pastry board, I&rsquo;ll not lack the touch,&rdquo; laughed
+the wife. She was making wonderful little tarts
+with crimped edges to be filled with assortments
+of confiture.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me mind the shop, then. I know I can
+do that.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, that will not be bad,&rdquo; agreed old Tricot.
+&ldquo;While Marie (the daughter-in-law) washes the
+linen and you make the tarts, Mam&rsquo;selle can keep
+the shop, but no board must she pay. I&rsquo;ll be
+bound new customers will flock to us to buy of
+the pretty face.&rdquo; Judy blushed with pleasure at
+the old peasant&rsquo;s compliment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And thou, laggard and sloth! What will thou
+do while the women slave?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;Oh, I will go to the Tabac&rsquo;s to see what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+news there is, and later to see if Jean is to the
+front.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, we cannot hear from Jean to-day and
+Paris can still stand without thy political opinion,&rdquo;
+but she laughed and shoved him from the
+shop, a very tender expression on her lined old
+face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These men! They think themselves of much
+importance,&rdquo; she said as she resumed her pastry
+making.</p>
+
+<p>Having tied a great linen apron around Judy&rsquo;s
+slender waist (much slenderer in the last month
+from her economical living), and having instructed
+her in the prices of the cooked food displayed
+in the show cases, Mère Tricot turned
+over the shop to her care. The rosy baby was
+lying in a wooden cradle in the back of the little
+shop and the grandmother was in plain view in
+the tiny kitchen to be seen beyond the living
+room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I fancy I am almost domesticated,&rdquo;
+thought Judy. &ldquo;What an interior this would
+make&mdash;baby in foreground and old Mother Tricot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
+on through with her rolling pin. Light fine!
+I&rsquo;ve a great mind to paint while I am keeping
+shop, sketch, anyhow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She whipped out her sketch book and sketched
+in her motive with sure and clever strokes, but
+art is long and shops must be kept. Customers
+began to pile in. The spinach was very popular
+and Judy became quite an adept in dishing
+it out and weighing it. Potato salad was
+next in demand and cooked tongue and rosbif
+disappeared rapidly. Many soldiers lounged
+in, eating their sandwiches in the shop. Judy
+enjoyed her morning greatly but she could
+not remember ever in her life having worked
+harder.</p>
+
+<p>When the tarts were finished and displayed
+temptingly in the window, swarms of children arrived.
+It seemed that Mère Tricot&rsquo;s tarts were
+famous in the Quarter. More soldiers came, too.
+Among them was a face strangely familiar to
+the amateur shop girl. Who could it be? It
+was the face of a typical Boulevardier: dissipated,
+ogling eyes; black moustache and beard waxed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+until they looked like sharp spikes; a face not
+homely but rather handsome, except for its expression
+of infinite conceit and impertinence.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have never seen him before, I fancy. It
+is just the type that is familiar to me,&rdquo; she
+thought. &ldquo;<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mais quel type!&rdquo;</i></p>
+
+<p>Judy was looking very pretty, with her cheeks
+flushed from the excitement of weighing out
+spinach and salad, making change where sous
+were thought of as though they were gold and
+following the patois of the peasants that came
+to buy and the argot of the gamin. She had
+donned a white cap of Marie&rsquo;s which was most
+becoming. Judy, always ready to act a part,
+with an instinctive dramatic spirit had entered
+into the rôle of shop keeper with a vim that bade
+fair to make the Tricots&rsquo; the most popular place
+on Boulevarde Montparnasse. Her French had
+fortunately improved greatly since her arrival
+in Paris more than two years before and now
+she flattered herself that one could not tell she
+was not Parisienne.</p>
+
+<p>The soldier with the ogling eyes and waxed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+moustache lingered in the shop when his companions
+had made their purchases and departed.
+He insisted upon knowing the price of every ware
+displayed. He asked her to name the various
+confitures in the tarts, which she did rather wearily
+as his persistence was most annoying. She
+went through the test, however, with as good a
+grace as possible. Shop girls must not be squeamish,
+she realized.</p>
+
+<p>One particularly inviting gooseberry tart was
+left on the tray. Judy had had her eye on it
+from the first and trembled every time a purchaser
+came for tarts. She meant to ask Mère
+Tricot for it, if only no one bought it. And now
+this particularly objectionable customer with his
+rolling black eyes and waxed moustache was asking
+her what kind it was! Why did he not buy
+what he wanted and leave?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Eh? Qu&rsquo;est-ce que c&rsquo;est?&rdquo;</i> he demanded with
+an amused leer as he pointed a much manicured
+forefinger at that particularly desirable tart.</p>
+
+<p>Judy was tired and the French for gooseberry
+left her as is the way with an acquired language.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
+Instead of <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">groseille</i> which was the word she
+wanted, she blurted out in plain English:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gooseberry jam!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, I have bean pensè so mooch. You may
+spick ze Eengleesh with me, Mees. Gueseberry
+jaam! Ha, ha! An&rsquo; now, Mees, there iss wan
+question I should lak a demandè of the so beootifool
+demoiselle: what iss the prize of wan leetle
+kees made in a so lufly tart?&rdquo; He leaned over the
+counter, his eyes rolling in a fine frenzy.</p>
+
+<p>Where was Mère Tricot now? What a fine
+time to brandish her pastry board! Gone to the
+innermost recesses of the apartment with the rosy
+baby! Suddenly Judy remembered exactly where
+she had seen that silly face before.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At Versailles, the day I got on the wrong
+train!&rdquo; flashed through her mind. She remembered
+well the hateful creature who had sat on
+the bench by her and insulted her with his attentions.
+She remembered how she had jumped
+up from the bench and hurried off, forgetting her
+package of gingerbread, bought at St. Cloud,
+and how the would-be masher had run after her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
+with it, saying in his insinuating manner: &ldquo;You
+have forgot your <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gouter, cherie</i>. Do you like
+puddeen very much, my dear?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was certainly the same man. His soldier&rsquo;s
+uniform made him somewhat less of a dandy
+than his patent leather boots and lemon coloured
+gloves had done on that occasion, but the dude
+was there in spite of the change of clothes. On
+that day at Versailles she had seized the gingerbread
+and jammed it in her mouth, thereby disgusting
+the fastidious Frenchman. She had often
+told the story and her amused hearers had always
+declared that her presence of mind was
+much to be commended.</p>
+
+<p>The soldier leaned farther and farther over
+the counter still demanding: &ldquo;A leetle kees made
+in so lufly a tart.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ha! An inspiration! Judy grasped the desired
+gooseberry tart and thrust the whole thing
+into her mouth. There was no time to ask the
+leave of Mère Tricot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ah quelle betise!&rdquo;</i> exclaimed the dandy, and
+at the same moment he, too, remembered the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+young English demoiselle at Versailles. He
+straightened up and into his ogling eyes came
+a spark of shame. With a smile that changed
+his whole countenance he saluted Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon, Mademoiselle!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy&rsquo;s mouth was too full to attempt French
+but she managed to say in her mother tongue:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why do you come in a respectable place like
+this and behave just like a Prussian?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Prussian! Ah, Mademoiselle, excuse, excuse.
+I&mdash;the beauty of the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">boutiquier</i> made me forget
+<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la Patrie</i>. I have been a roué, a fool. I am henceforth
+a Frenchman. Mademoiselle iss wan noble
+ladee. She efen mar her so great beauty to protec
+her dignitee. I remember ze <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pain d&rsquo;epice</i> at Versailles
+and <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la grande bouchée</i>. Mademoiselle has
+<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le bel esprit</i>, what you call Mericanhumor. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Au
+revoir, Mademoiselle</i>,&rdquo; and with a very humble
+bow he departed, without buying anything at all.</p>
+
+<p>The Tricots laughed very heartily when Judy
+told them her experience.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see you can take care of yourself,&rdquo; said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
+Père Tricot with a nod of approval. &ldquo;If the Prussians
+come, they had better look out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you forgive me for eating the last gooseberry
+tart?&rdquo; she asked of Mère Tricot. &ldquo;I was
+very glad of the excuse to get it before some one
+bought it from under my very nose.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mother Tricot not only forgave her but produced
+another one for her that she had kept back
+for the guest she seemed to delight to honour.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Our <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">boutiquier</i> has sold out the shop,&rdquo; declared
+the old man. &ldquo;I shall have to go to market
+very early in the morning to get more provisions
+cooked.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, another excuse for absenting thyself!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, please, may I go with you?&rdquo; begged Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It will mean very early rising, but I shall be
+so pleased,&rdquo; said the delighted old man, and his
+wife smiled approval.</p>
+
+<p>It was arranged that Judy was to sleep on a
+couch in the living room. This suited her exactly,
+as she was able after the family had retired to
+rise stealthily and open a window. The French
+peasant and even the middle class Parisian is as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+afraid of air in a bedroom as we would be of
+a rattlesnake. They sleep as a rule in hermetically
+sealed chambers and there is a superstition
+even among the enlightened of that city that night
+air will give one some peculiar affection of the
+eyes. How they keep as healthy as they do is a
+wonder to those brought up on fresh air. Judy
+had feared that her sleeping would have to be
+done in the great bed with Marie and the baby
+and welcomed the proposition of the couch in the
+living room with joy. There was a smell of
+delicatessen wares but it was not unpleasing to
+one who had been economizing in food for so
+many days.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d rather smell spinach than American Beauties,&rdquo;
+she said to herself, &ldquo;and potato salad beats
+potpourri.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Her couch was clean and the sheets smelled of
+lavender. Marie, the little daughter-in-law, had
+been a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">blanchisseuse de fin</i> before she became the
+bride of Jean Tricot. She still plied her trade on
+the family linen and everything she touched was
+snow white and beautifully ironed. The clothes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
+were carried by her to the public laundry; there
+she washed them and then brought them home
+to iron.</p>
+
+<p>As Judy lay on the soft, clean couch, sniffing
+the mingled smells of shop and kitchen and fresh
+sheets, she thanked her stars that she was not
+alone in the Bents&rsquo; studio, wondering what she
+was to do about breakfast and a little nervous at
+every sound heard during the night.</p>
+
+<p>Even the bravest feels a little squeamish when
+absolutely alone through the long night. Judy
+was brave, her father&rsquo;s own daughter, but those
+nights alone in the studio in Rue Brea had got
+on her nerves. It was just so much harder because
+of the gay, jolly winter spent in the place.</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0a">&ldquo;I feel like one who treads alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some banquet hall, deserted,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>expressed her sentiments exactly. Once she
+dreamed that Molly Brown was standing over
+her with a cup of hot coffee, which was one of
+Molly&rsquo;s ways. She was always spoiling people
+and often would appear at the bed side with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
+matutinal coffee. The dream came after a particularly
+lonesome evening. She thought that
+as Molly stood over her, her hand shook and some
+of the coffee splashed on her face. She awoke
+with a start to find her face wet with hot tears.</p>
+
+<p>Here at the Tricots, life was quite different.
+Mère and Père Tricot were playing a happy duet
+through the night with comfortable snores.
+Marie could be heard cooing to her baby as she
+nursed it and the baby making inarticulate gurgles
+of joy at being nourished. The feeling of
+having human beings near by was most soothing.
+Judy did not mind the snores, but rejoiced
+in them. Even when the baby cried, as it did
+once in the night, she smiled happily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am one of a family!&rdquo; she exclaimed.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.<br />
+
+<small>A MOTHER&rsquo;S FAITH.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Edwin, Kent has been gone over two weeks
+now and not one word from him,&rdquo; announced
+Molly when Mr. Bud Woodsmall had come and
+gone, leaving no mail of any great importance.
+&ldquo;I can see Mother is very uneasy, although she
+doesn&rsquo;t say a word.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was the name of his steamer?&rdquo; asked
+the professor as he opened his newspaper. &ldquo;I
+wouldn&rsquo;t worry. Mail is pretty slow and it would
+take a very fast boat to land him at Havre and
+have a letter back this soon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Edwin spoke a little absent-mindedly for the
+Greens were very busy getting ready for their
+yearly move to Wellington College and time for
+newspaper reading was at a premium.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But he was to cable.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh! And what was the name of the
+steamer?&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<cite>L&rsquo;Hirondelle de Mer</cite>, swallow of the sea. I
+fancy it must mean flying fish. Paul says it is
+a small merchantman, carrying a few passengers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<cite>L&rsquo;Hirondelle de Mer?&rdquo;</cite> Edwin&rsquo;s voice sounded
+so faint that Molly stopped packing books and
+looked up, startled.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It may be a mistake,&rdquo; he faltered.</p>
+
+<p>Molly jumped up from the box of books and
+read over her husband&rsquo;s shoulder the terrible
+headlines announcing the sinking of the small
+merchantman <cite>L&rsquo;Hirondelle de Mer</cite> by a German
+submarine. No warning was given and it was
+not known how many of the crew or passengers
+had escaped. The news was got from a boat-load
+of half-drowned seamen picked up by an
+English fishing smack. The cargo was composed
+of pork and beef.</p>
+
+<p>Molly read as long as her filling eyes would
+permit, and then she sank on her knees by her
+husband&rsquo;s chair and gave way to the grief that
+overcame her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Molly darling! It may be all right. Kent
+is not the kind to get lost if there is any way
+out of it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But he would be saving others and forget
+himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, but see&mdash;or let me see for you&mdash;it says
+no women or children on board.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank God for that!&mdash;And now I must go to
+Mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and I will go with you&mdash;but we must go
+with the idea of making your mother feel it is
+all right&mdash;that Kent is saved.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes&mdash;and I truly believe he is! I couldn&rsquo;t
+have been as happy for the last few days as I
+have been if&mdash;if&mdash;Kent&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; She could say no
+more.</p>
+
+<p>Edwin held her for a moment in his arms and
+then called to Kizzie to look after little Mildred,
+who lay peacefully sleeping in her basket, blissfully
+ignorant of the trouble in the atmosphere.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look! There&rsquo;s Mother coming through the
+garden! She knows! I can tell by the way she
+holds her head.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My children! You were coming to me. You
+know, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Mother! But Edwin and I think Kent
+is too strong and active to&mdash;to&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know he is safe,&rdquo; declared the intrepid
+mother. &ldquo;I am as sure of it as though he were
+here in the garden of Chatsworth standing by
+me. One of my children could not have passed
+away without my being conscious of it.&rdquo; She
+spoke in an even, clear tone and her countenance
+was as one inspired.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mother! That is what I felt, too. I
+could not have been so&mdash;so happy if anything
+awful had happened to Kent.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Edwin Green was very thankful that the
+women in his family could take this view of the
+matter, but not feeling himself to be gifted with
+second sight, he determined to find out for sure
+as soon as possible what had become of his favorite
+brother-in-law. He accordingly telegraphed
+a night letter to Jimmy Lufton in New
+York to get busy as quickly as possible, sparing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
+no expense, and find out if the Americans on
+board the vessel were saved.</p>
+
+<p>No doubt my readers will remember that Jimmy
+Lufton was the young newspaper man whom
+Edwin Green had feared as a rival, and now that
+he had won the prize himself, his feeling for that
+young man was one of kindliness and pity.</p>
+
+<p>Answer came: a stray sailor had reported that
+he had seen the submarine take on board two
+of the passengers who were battling with the
+heavy sea. Whether Kent was one of them, he
+could not tell.</p>
+
+<p>There were days of anxious waiting. Molly
+and Edwin went on with the preparations for
+their flitting, but could not leave Mrs. Brown
+until she had assurance of the safety of her beloved
+son. That lady continued in the belief that
+all was well with him, in spite of no news.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Clay came over to Chatsworth to remonstrate
+with her younger sister over what she
+called her obstinacy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why should you persist in the assertion that
+you would know if anything had happened to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
+your son? We all know that things happen all
+the time and persons near to them go on in ignorance
+of the accidents. For my part, I think
+it is indecent for you and your daughters to be
+flaunting colours as you are. You should order
+your mourning and have services for those lost
+at sea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As Mrs. Brown&rsquo;s flaunting of colors consisted
+of one lavender scarf that Nance Oldham had
+knitted for her, this was, to say the least, unnecessary
+of Sister Clay.</p>
+
+<p>Molly, who was present when the above unfeeling
+remarks were made, trembled with rage
+and wept with misery; but not so Mrs. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t agree with you,&rdquo; she said with a
+calmness that astonished her daughter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if Kent is alive, why does he not communicate
+with you? He is certainly careless of
+you to leave you in ignorance for all of this
+time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly noticed with a kind of fierce joy that her
+mother&rsquo;s head was now held very high and her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
+sensitive nostrils were a-quiver. &ldquo;Her nose was
+a-wuckin&rsquo;,&rdquo; as Aunt Mary put it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Careless of <em>me!</em> Kent! Sister Sarah, you
+are simply speaking with neither sense nor feeling.
+It has been your own fault that you have
+not obtained the love and affection of my children
+and so you wish to insinuate that they are
+careless of me. My son will let me know where
+he is as soon as he can. I already know he is
+alive and safe. You ask me how I know it! I
+can only say I know it.&rdquo; This was said with so
+much fire that Aunt Clay actually seemed to
+shrink up. She bullied Mrs. Brown up to a certain
+point, but when that point reached criticism
+of one of her children, woe betide Aunt Clay.</p>
+
+<p>Molly, whose certainty of Kent&rsquo;s being alive
+was beginning to grow weak and dim with the
+weary days, felt new strength from her mother&rsquo;s
+brave words. Edwin Green was forced to leave
+for the opening of Wellington, but Molly closed
+the bungalow and brought little Mildred over to
+Chatsworth, there to wait with her mother for
+some definite news.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Old Aunt Mary was a great comfort to them.
+She shared in their belief that their dear boy
+was alive.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cose nothin&rsquo; ain&rsquo;t happened ter that there
+Kent. Didn&rsquo;t he tell me he was a goin&rsquo; ter Parus
+ter bring home that Judy gal? The Dutch ain&rsquo;t
+a goin&rsquo; ter do nothin&rsquo; ter a kind faceded pusson
+like our Kent. As fer drowndin&rsquo;! Shoo! I
+done hear Lewis say that Kent kin outswim de
+whole er Jeff&rsquo;son County. He kin swim to Indiany
+an&rsquo; back thout ever touchin&rsquo; lan&rsquo;, right
+over yander by the water wucks whar the riber
+is mo&rsquo;n a mile. An&rsquo; waves! Why, Lewis say
+whin the big stern wheelers is a jes&rsquo; churnin&rsquo; up
+the riber till it looks like the yawnin&rsquo; er grabes
+at Jedgement Day that Kent would jes&rsquo; laff at
+them an&rsquo; plunge right through jes&rsquo; lak a feesh.
+An&rsquo; I do hear tell that the waters er the mighty
+deep is salty an&rsquo; that makes me know that Kent
+ain&rsquo;t goin&rsquo; ter sink. Don&rsquo;t we tes&rsquo; the brine fer
+pickles wif a aig? An&rsquo; don&rsquo;t the aig float? An&rsquo;
+if&rsquo;n the mighty deep is called the briny deep don&rsquo;t
+that mean it kin float a aig? What kin float a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
+aig kin float a young man what already knows
+how ter swim crost an&rsquo; back on the &rsquo;Hier Riber.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Julia Kean&rsquo;s second letter came, also the one
+from her father in Molly&rsquo;s care. Molly immediately
+sent it to the American Club in Paris.
+Judy&rsquo;s letter certainly had nothing in it to reassure
+them as to her safety, except the meeting
+with the old man with whom she had danced at
+St. Cloud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It means that Judy is able to make friends
+wherever she goes, and as she says, she can always
+light on her feet, somehow,&rdquo; sighed Molly.
+She did not add what was in her mind: &ldquo;If she
+had only come home with Kent!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mother, I must write to Judy now that I
+have some kind of address. Must I tell her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, my dear, tell her all we know, but tell
+her of our conviction that all is well. I will write
+to her myself, on second thought.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>John and Paul both spent every night at Chatsworth
+now, although it meant very early rising
+for both of them and often a midnight arrival
+or departure for Dr. John, whose practice was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+growing but seemed to be restricted to persons
+who persisted in being taken very ill in the night.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is because so many of them are charity
+patients or semi-charity and they always want
+to get all they can,&rdquo; he would declare. &ldquo;Of
+course, a doctor&rsquo;s night rates are higher than day
+rates, and when they are getting something for
+nothing, if they call me up at two a.&nbsp;m. they are
+getting more for nothing than they would be if
+they had their toe aches in the day time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Ten days had passed since the half-drowned
+sailors had been picked up by the English fishing
+smack, and still no message from Kent.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown wrote and dispatched her letter
+to Judy Kean. It was a hard letter to write, much
+harder than it would have been had there been
+an engagement between the two. The good lady
+felt that Judy was almost like a daughter and
+still it required something more than existed to
+address her as one. She must convey to Judy
+the news that Kent was shipwrecked, and still
+she wanted to put in the girl&rsquo;s heart the faith
+she had in his safety.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor Judy! If she is alone in Paris, think
+what it will mean for this news to reach her!&rdquo;
+Molly agonized to herself. &ldquo;She may and may
+not care for Kent enough to marry him, but she
+certainly is devoted to him as a friend. She will
+feel it just so much more keenly because he was
+on his way to her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly could not sleep in her great anxiety, and
+her faith and the certainty of Kent&rsquo;s safety left
+her. &ldquo;I must keep up for Mildred&rsquo;s sake,&rdquo; she
+would cry as she tried to choke down food. Her
+every endeavor was to hide this loss of faith from
+her mother, whose belief in her son&rsquo;s being alive
+and well never seemed to falter.</p>
+
+<p>Daily letters from Edwin were Molly&rsquo;s one
+comfort. He was back in the grind of lectures at
+Wellington and was missing sorely his wife and
+child.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly darling, you mustn&rsquo;t wait any longer
+in Kentucky,&rdquo; her mother said at breakfast one
+morning. Molly was trying to dispose of a glass
+of milk and a soft boiled egg, although her throat
+seemed to close at the thought of food.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Mother, I wouldn&rsquo;t leave you for anything
+in the world,&rdquo; she declared, making a successful
+gulp which got rid of the milk, at least.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your husband needs you, child, and I know
+it would be best for you. There is no use in
+waiting.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly looked up, startled. Had her mother,
+too, lost heart? Her face had grown thinner in
+those days of waiting and her hair was quite
+grey, in fact, silvery about the temples; but her
+eyes still held the light of faith and high resolve.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She still has faith! And you, Molly Brown
+Green! Oh, ye of little faith! What right have
+you to be a clog and burden? Take another glass
+of milk this minute and keep up your health and
+your baby&rsquo;s health.&rdquo; This to herself, and aloud:
+&ldquo;Why, Mumsy, I want to stay right here. Little
+Mildred is thriving and Edwin is doing very
+well at Wellington. Every one is asking him
+out to dine, now that he is untrammelled with a
+wife. He reports a big gain in attendance on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
+last semestre and is as cheerful as can be. Caroline,
+please bring me another glass of milk, and
+I think I&rsquo;ll get you to soft boil another egg for
+me!&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.<br />
+
+<small>DES HALLES.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Mère Tricot called Judy just at dawn. The
+kindly old grenadier stood over her, and this was
+no dream&mdash;she held a real cup of coffee.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The good man is ready. I hate to wake you,
+but if you want to go to market with him, it is
+time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, yes! It won&rsquo;t take me a minute.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy gulped the coffee and dived into her
+clothes. There seemed to be no question of baths
+with the good Tricots, and Judy made a mental
+note that she would go every day to the Bents&rsquo;
+studio for her cold plunge. A bathroom is the
+exception and not the rule in the poorer class
+of apartments in Paris. In New York, any apartment
+worthy of the name boasts a bathroom, but
+not so in the French city.</p>
+
+<p>Père Tricot was waiting for her with his little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
+green push cart to bring home the purchases to
+be made in market. He was dressed in a stiff,
+clean, blue blouse and his kindly, lank old face
+was freshly shaven.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, Mam&rsquo;selle! So you will go with the old
+man?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Go with you! Of course I will! I love the
+early morning, and the market will be beautiful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The streets were very quiet and misty. Paris
+never gets up very early, and as the cold weather
+comes, she lies abed later and later. The Gardens
+of the Luxembourg were showing signs of
+frost, or was it heavy dew? The leaves had begun
+to drop and some of them had turned.</p>
+
+<p>There was a delightful nip in the air and as
+Judy and the old man trudged along, the girl felt
+really happy, happier than she had for many a
+day. &ldquo;It must be having a home that is doing
+it,&rdquo; she thought. &ldquo;Maybe I am a domestic person,
+after all.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Père Tricot, don&rsquo;t you love your home?&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My home! You don&rsquo;t think that that shop
+in Boulevard Montparnasse is my home, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But where is your home then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, in Normandy, near Roche Craie! That
+is where I was born and hope to die. We are
+saving for our old age now and will go back
+home some day, the good wife and I. Jean and
+Marie can run the shop, that is, if&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy knew he meant if Jean came through the
+war alive.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The city is not for me, but it seemed best to
+bring Jean here when he was little. There seemed
+no chance to do more than exist in the country,
+and here we have prospered.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have visited at Roche Craie. I think it is
+beautiful country. No wonder you want to go
+back. The d&rsquo;Ochtès were my friends there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Marquis d&rsquo;Ochtè! Oh, Mam&rsquo;selle, and
+to think of your being their guest and then mine!&rdquo;
+Judy could have bitten out her tongue for saying
+she had visited those great folk. She could
+see now that the dear old man had lost his ease<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+in her presence. &ldquo;They are the greatest landowners
+of the whole department.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, but they are quite simple and very kind.
+I got to know them through some friends of mine
+who were related to the Marquise. She, you
+know, was an American.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and a kind, great lady she is. Why, it
+was only day before yesterday she was in our
+shop. She makes a rule to get what she can from
+us for her household. She has a chef who can
+make every known sauce, but he cannot make a
+tart like my good wife&rsquo;s. We furnish all the
+tarts of the d&rsquo;Ochtès when they are in Paris.
+Madame, the Marquise, is also pleased to say that
+my <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pouree d&rsquo;epinard</i> is smoother and better than
+Gaston&rsquo;s, and only yesterday she bought a tray
+of it for their <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">déjeuner a la fourchette</i>. Her son
+Philippe is flying. The Marquis, too, is with his
+regiment.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How I wish I could have seen her!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, then, Mam&rsquo;selle would not be ashamed
+for the Marquise to see her waiting in the shop
+of poor Tricot?&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ashamed! Why, Père Tricot, what do you
+take me for? I am only too glad to help some
+and to feel that I can do something besides look
+on,&rdquo; and Judy, who had been walking on the
+sidewalk while her companion pushed his <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">petite
+voiture</i> along the street, stepped down into the
+gutter and with her hand on the shaft went the
+rest of the way, helping to push the cart.</p>
+
+<p>As they approached the market, they were
+joined by more and more pedestrians, many of
+them with little carts, similar to Père Tricot&rsquo;s
+and many of them with huge baskets. War
+seemed to be forgotten for the time being, so bent
+were all of them on the business of feeding and
+being fed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One must eat!&rdquo; declared a pleasant fat woman
+in a high stiff white cap. &ldquo;If Paris is to be entered
+to-morrow by the Prussians, I say we must
+be fed and full. There is no more pleasure in
+dying for your country empty than full.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Listen to the voice of the Halles, Mam&rsquo;selle.
+Can&rsquo;t you hear it roaring? Ah! and there is the
+bell of St. Eustache.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The peal of bells rose above the hum of the
+market.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;St. Eustache! Can&rsquo;t we go into the church
+a little while first?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And so, hand in hand with the old Normandy
+peasant, Judy Kean walked into the great old
+church, and together they knelt on the flagged
+floor and prayed. Judy never did anything by
+halves, not even praying. When she prayed,
+she did it with a fervor and earnestness St.
+Anthony himself would have envied. When
+they rose from their knees, they both looked happier.
+Old Tricot had prayed for his boy, so soon
+to be in the trenches, and Judy offered an impassioned
+petition for the safety of her beloved
+parents.</p>
+
+<p>When they emerged from the church, the sun
+was up and the market was almost like a carnival,
+except for the fact that the color was subdued
+somewhat by the mourning that many of the
+women wore.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Already so many in mourning!&rdquo; thought the
+girl. &ldquo;What will it be later?&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;First the butter and eggs and cheese! This
+way, Mam&rsquo;selle!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They wormed their way between the great yellow
+wagons unloading huge crates of eggs and
+giant cheeses. The smell of butter made Judy
+think of Chatsworth and the dairy where she
+had helped Caroline churn on her memorable
+visit to the Browns. Ah me! How glad she
+would be to see them again. And Kent! She
+had not let herself think of Kent lately. He must
+be angry with her for not taking his advice and
+listening to his entreaties to go back to the United
+States with him. He had not written at all and
+he must have been home several weeks. Maybe
+the letter had miscarried, but other letters had
+come lately; and he might even have cabled her.
+He certainly seemed indifferent to her welfare,
+as now that the war had broken out, he had not
+even inquired as to her safety or her whereabouts;
+not even let her know whether or not the job
+in New York had materialized.</p>
+
+<p>She was awakened from her musings by her
+old friend, who had completed his bargaining for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
+cheese, butter and eggs and now was proceeding
+to the fish market.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must buy much fish. It is Friday, you remember,
+and since the war started, religion has
+become the style again in France, and now fish,
+and only fish, must be eaten on Friday. There
+are those that say that the war will help the
+country by making us good again.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And so, in a far corner of the cart, well away
+from the susceptible butter and cheese, many fish
+were piled up, fenced off from the rest of the
+produce by a wall of huge black mussels in a
+tangle of sea weed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, there are fish enough in this market
+to regenerate the whole world, I should think,&rdquo;
+laughed Judy.</p>
+
+<p>The stalls were laden with them and row after
+row of scaly monsters hung from huge hooks
+in the walls. Men, women and boys were scaling
+and cleaning fish all along the curbings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Soon there will be only women and boys for
+the work,&rdquo; thought Judy sadly, &ldquo;and maybe it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
+will not be so very long before there will be only
+women.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Cabbages and cauliflowers were bought next
+(cauliflowers that Puddenhead Wilson says are
+only cabbages been to college); Brussels sprouts,
+too; and spinach enough to furnish red blood
+for the whole army, Judy thought; then chickens,
+turkeys and grouse; a great smoked beef tongue,
+and a hog head for souse. The little green wagon
+was running over now and its rather rickety
+wheels creaked complainingly.</p>
+
+<p>Old Tricot and Judy started homeward at as
+rapid a rate as the load would allow. Judy insisted
+upon helping push, and indeed her services
+were quite necessary over the rough cobbles.
+When they reached the smooth asphalt, she told
+Père Tricot she would leave him for a moment
+and stop at the American Club in the hope of
+letters awaiting there for her.</p>
+
+<p>How sweet and fresh she looked as she waved
+her hand at the old man! Her cheeks were rosy,
+her eyes shining, and her expression so naïve
+and happy that she looked like a little child.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, gentile, gentile!&rdquo; he murmured. His old
+heart had gone out to this brave, charming American
+girl. &ldquo;And to think of her being friends
+with Madame the Marquise!&rdquo; he thought. &ldquo;That
+will be a nut for the good wife and Marie to
+crack.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He pushed his cart slowly along the asphalt,
+rather missing the sturdy strength that Judy
+had put into the work. Then he sat on a bench to
+rest awhile, one of those nice benches that Paris
+dots her thoroughfares with and one misses so
+on coming back to United States.</p>
+
+<p>Paris was well awake now and bustling. The
+streets were full of soldiers. Old women with
+their carts laden with chrysanthemums were
+trudging along to take their stands at the corners.
+The air was filled with the pungent odors of
+their wares. Old Tricot stretched himself:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must be moving! There is much food to
+be cooked to-day. It is time my Mam&rsquo;selle was
+coming along. Ah, there she is!&rdquo; He recognized
+the jaunty blue serge jacket and pretty
+little velour sport hat that Judy always knew at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
+which angle to place on her fluffy brown hair.
+&ldquo;But how slowly she is walking! And where
+are her roses? Her head is bent down like some
+poor French woman who has bad news from the
+trenches.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.<br />
+
+<small>THE AMERICAN MAIL.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Judy had, clasped in her arms, a package of
+mail, unopened except for the letter on top, which
+was the one that poor, brave Mrs. Brown had
+written her. She had kept throughout the letter
+the same gallant spirit of belief in her son&rsquo;s
+safety, but Judy could not take that view.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gone! Gone! and all because of poor miserable,
+no-account me!&rdquo; her heart cried out in its
+anguish, but she shed no tear and made no sound.
+Her face, glowing with health and spirits only
+a few minutes ago, was now as pale as a ghost
+and her eyes had lost their sparkle.</p>
+
+<p>Père Tricot hastened towards her as she came
+slowly down the street.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear little girl, what is it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is drowned and all for me&mdash;just my stubbornness!&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who? Your father?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your brother, then?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have no brother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, then, your sweetheart? Your fiancé?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;sometime he might&mdash;that is, we were
+not fiancéd, not exactly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old man drew her down on the bench beside
+him:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now tell me all about it, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ma pauvre petite</i>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And Judy told him of her friends in Kentucky.
+Of Molly Brown and her brother Kent; of her
+own stubbornness in not leaving France when the
+war broke out; and then she translated Mrs.
+Brown&rsquo;s letter for him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, but the good lady does not think he is
+drowned!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, but she is so wonderful, so brave.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, are you not wonderful and brave, too?
+You must go on with your courage. If a mother
+can write as she has done and have faith in <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">le
+bon Dieu</i>, then you must try, too&mdash;that will make
+you worthy of such a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">belle mère</i>. Does she not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+say that two passengers were seen to be saved
+by the enemy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Père Tricot, you are good, good! I will
+try&mdash;if Kent&rsquo;s own mother can be so brave, why
+surely I must be calm, too, I, who am nothing to
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing? Ah, my dear Mam&rsquo;selle, one who
+is nothing does not have young men take trips
+across the ocean for her. But look at the spinach
+wilting in the sun! We must hasten to get the
+cooking done.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Poor Judy! All zest had gone out of the morning
+for her. She put her package of mail in the
+cart, not at all caring if it got at the fishy end,
+and wearily began to push. Père Tricot, well
+knowing that work was a panacea for sorrow,
+let her take her share of the burden, and together
+the old peasant in his stiff blue blouse
+and the sad young American girl trundled the
+provisions down the boulevard.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have more letters, my daughter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I have not read them yet. I was afraid
+of more bad news.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps there is something from the mother
+and father.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, the big one is from Molly and the others
+are just from various friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the shop, of course Mère
+Tricot started in with her usual badinage directed
+against her life partner, but he soon tipped her
+a wink to give her to understand that Judy was
+in distress, and the kind old grenadier ceased
+her vituperation and went quietly to work washing
+spinach and making ready the fowls for the
+spit.</p>
+
+<p>Judy took her letters to a green bench in the
+diminutive court behind the apartment which
+passed for garden, with its one oleander tree
+and pots of geraniums. Her heart seemed to
+be up in her throat; at least, there was a strange
+pulsation there that must be heart. So this was
+sorrow! Strange to have lived as long as she
+had and never to have known what sorrow was
+before! The nearest she had ever come to sorrow
+was telling her mother and father good-by
+when they started on some perilous trip&mdash;but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>
+they had always come back, and she was used to
+parting with them.</p>
+
+<p>But Kent&mdash;maybe he would never come back!
+It was all very well for Mrs. Brown to refuse
+to believe in his being gone forever, but why
+should he be the one to be saved, after all? No
+doubt the passengers who were lost had mothers
+and&mdash;and what? Sweethearts&mdash;there she would
+say it! She was his sweetheart even though they
+were not really engaged. She knew it now for
+a certainty. Kent did not have to tell her what
+he felt for her, and now that it was too late, she
+knew what she felt for him. She knew now why
+she had been so lonesome. It was not merely
+the fact that war was going on and her friends
+were out of Paris&mdash;it was that she was longing
+for Kent. She understood now why she felt so
+homeless just at this time. She was no more
+homeless than she had always been, but now she
+wanted a home and she wanted it to be Kent&rsquo;s
+home, too. Fool! fool that she had been! Why
+hadn&rsquo;t she gone home like all the sensible Americans
+when war was declared? The Browns<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
+would never forgive her and she would never
+forgive herself. She read again Mrs. Brown&rsquo;s
+letter. How good she was to have been willing
+to have Kent turn right around and go back to
+Paris for that worthless Julia Kean. And now he
+was gone, and it was all her fault! Ah, me!
+Well, life must be lived, if all the color had gone
+out of it.</p>
+
+<p>She wearily opened the letter addressed in
+Molly&rsquo;s handwriting. It was from her father,
+and in it another from her mother, forwarded by
+Molly. At last she had heard from them. They,
+too, hoped she had gone back to America. Had
+taken for granted she had, since they had sent
+the letters to Molly. She read them over and
+over. The love they had for her was to be seen
+in every word. Never again would she part
+from them. How she longed for them! They
+would understand about Kent, even though she
+was not engaged to him. And now she knew
+what Bobby would advise her to do were he there
+in Paris: &ldquo;Work! Work until you drop from
+it, but work!&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Already the great range, that stretched the entire
+length of the tiny tiled kitchen, was filled
+with copper vessels, and appetizing odors were
+permeating the living room and the little shop
+beyond.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me help,&rdquo; said Judy bravely. &ldquo;Must I
+mind the shop or do you need me here? I can&rsquo;t
+cook, but I can wash spinach and peel potatoes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Marie can look after the shop this morning,
+my dear child, so you go rest yourself,&rdquo; said the
+good wife.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to rest! I want to work!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let her work, Mother! Let her work! It
+is best so,&rdquo; and Judy&rsquo;s old partner got the blue
+bowl, sacred to mayonnaise, and Judy sat on the
+bench in the court and stirred and stirred as she
+dropped the oil into the beaten egg. Her arm
+ached as the great smooth yellow mass grew
+thicker and thicker, but the more her arm ached,
+the less her heart ached. When the bowl was
+quite full, she started in on a great basket of potatoes
+that must be peeled, some for Saratoga
+chips and some for potato salad. Onions must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
+be peeled, too, and then the spinach cleaned and
+chopped in a colander until it was a purée.</p>
+
+<p>The Tricots worked with a precision and ease
+that delighted Judy. She never tired of watching
+the grenadier turn out the wonderful little
+tarts. On that morning a double quantity was
+to be made as Marie was to carry a basket of
+them to &ldquo;the regiment&rdquo;; that, of course, meant
+Jean Tricot&rsquo;s regiment. They had not yet been
+ordered to the front, but were ready to go at any
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>The old woman put batch after batch in the
+great oven. They came out all done to a turn
+and all exactly alike, as though made by machinery.
+Then they were put in the show cases
+in the shop; and more were rolled out, filled and
+baked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sometime may I try to do some?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman smiled indulgently at Judy&rsquo;s
+pale face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You may try right now.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy made a rather deformed batch but Mère
+Tricot declared the children would not know the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
+difference, and they could be sold to them. &ldquo;The
+soldats must have the prettiest and another time
+you can make them well enough for them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So far, Judy had not shed a tear. Her eyes
+felt dry and feverish and her heart was still beating
+in her throat in some mysterious way. Suddenly
+without a bit of warning the tears came.
+Splash! Splash! they dropped right on the tarts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Never mind the tarts!&rdquo; exclaimed the kindly
+grenadier. &ldquo;Those must go to Jean&rsquo;s regiment.
+They will understand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I could not help it,&rdquo; sobbed poor Judy. &ldquo;I
+was thinking how proud Kent would be of me
+when he knew I could make tarts and wondering
+how many he could eat, when all of a sudden it
+came to me that he never would know&mdash;and&mdash;and&mdash;Oh,
+Mother Tricot!&rdquo; and she buried her
+face on the bosom of the good old woman, who
+patted her with one hand and held her close while
+she adroitly whisked a pan of tarts from the oven
+with the other.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tarts must not burn, no matter if hearts are
+broken!&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER X.<br />
+
+<small>THE ZEPPELIN RAID.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Judy&rsquo;s cry did her good, although it left her
+in such a swollen state she was not fit to keep
+shop, which was what she had planned to do
+for the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think I&rsquo;ll go round to the studio in Rue Brea
+for a little while. I want to get some things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>What she really wanted was to get a bath and
+to be alone for a few hours. Her kind hosts
+thought it would be wise to let her do whatever
+she wanted, so they gave her God-speed but
+begged her not to be out late.</p>
+
+<p>Judy now longed for solitude with the same
+eagerness she had before longed for companionship.
+She knew it would be unwise for her to
+give up to this desire to any extent and determined
+to get back to her kind friends before
+dark, but be alone she must for a while. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
+got the key from the concierge and entered the
+studio. All was as she had left it. Windows and
+doors opened wide soon dispelled the close odor.
+A cold bath in the very attractive white porcelain
+tub, the pride of the Bents, made poor Judy feel
+better in spite of herself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want to feel better. I&rsquo;ve been brave
+and noble all morning and now I want to be weak
+and miserable. I don&rsquo;t care whether school keeps
+or not. I am a poor, forlorn, broken-hearted girl,
+without any friends in all the world except some
+Normandy peasants. The Browns will all hate
+me, and my mother and father I may never see
+again. Oh, Kent! Kent! Why didn&rsquo;t you just
+pick me up and make me go with you? If you
+had been very, very firm, I&rsquo;d have gone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy remembered with a grim smile how in
+old days at college she had longed to wear mourning
+and how absurd she had made herself by
+dyeing her hair and draping herself in black. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m
+going into mourning now. It is about all I can
+do for Kent. It won&rsquo;t cost much and somehow
+I&rsquo;d feel better.&rdquo; Judy, ever visualizing, pictured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+herself in black with organdy collar and cuffs
+and a mournful, patient look. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll just go on selling
+tarts. It will help the Tricots and give me
+my board.&rdquo; She counted out her money, dwindled
+somewhat, but now that she was working
+she felt she might indulge her grief to the extent
+of a black waist and some white collars and cuffs.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a black skirt and I&rsquo;ll get my blue suit
+dyed to-morrow. I&rsquo;ll line my black sport hat with
+white crêpe. That will make it do.&rdquo; In pity for
+herself, she wept again.</p>
+
+<p>She slipped out of the studio and made her
+few purchases at a little shop around the corner.
+Madame, the proprietaire, was all sympathy.
+She had laid in an especial stock of cheap mourning,
+she told Judy, as there was much demand
+for it now.</p>
+
+<p>It took nimble fingers to turn the jaunty sport
+hat into a sad little mourning bonnet, but Judy
+was ever clever at hat making, and when she
+finished just before the sun set, she viewed her
+handiwork with pardonable pride. She slipped
+into her cheap black silk waist and pinned on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
+collar and cuffs. The hat was very becoming,
+so much so that Judy had another burst of tears.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t bear for it to be becoming. I want
+to look as ugly and forlorn as possible.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She determined to leave her serge suit in the
+studio and come on the following day to take
+it to a dye shop. As she was to do this, she decided
+not to leave the key with the concierge but
+take it with her.</p>
+
+<p>Her kind friends looked sadly at the mourning.
+They realized when they saw it that Judy had
+given up all hope of her friend.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, the pity of it! The pity of it!&rdquo; exclaimed
+the old grenadier.</p>
+
+<p>Marie, whose apple-like countenance was not
+very expressive of anything but health, looked as
+sympathetic as the shape of her face would allow.
+Round rosy cheeks, round black eyes, and
+a round red mouth are not easy to mold into
+tragic lines, but Judy knew that Marie was feeling
+deeply for her. She was thinking of her
+Jean and the possibility of turning her bridal
+finery into mourning. There was so much mourning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
+now and according to the <cite>Temps</cite>, the war
+was hardly begun.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll have my serge suit dyed to-morrow,&rdquo; Judy
+confided to her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, no! Do not have it dyed! Mère Tricot
+and I can do it here and do it beautifully. The
+butcher&rsquo;s wife over the way is dyeing to-morrow
+and she will give us some of her mixture. It is
+her little brother who fell only yesterday.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>That night there was great excitement in the
+Montparnasse quarter. A fleet of air ships circled
+over the city, dropping bombs as they flew.
+The explosions were terrific. The people
+cowered in their homes at first and then came
+rushing out on the streets as the noise subsided.</p>
+
+<p>Père Tricot came back with the news that no
+great harm had been done, but it was his opinion
+that the Prussians had been after the Luxembourg.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They know full well that our art treasures
+are much to us, and they would take great pleasure
+in destroying them. The beasts!&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where did the bombs strike?&rdquo; asked Judy
+from her couch in the living room. She had
+wept until her pillow had to be turned over and
+then had at last sunk into a sleep of exhaustion
+only to be awakened by the ear-splitting explosions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know exactly, but it was somewhere
+over towards the Gardens of the Luxembourg. I
+thank the good God you were here with us, my
+child.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.<br />
+
+<small>&ldquo;L&rsquo;HIRONDELLE DE MER.&rdquo;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Kent Brown, when he reached New York on
+his return trip to Paris in quest of the rather
+wilful, very irritating, and wholly fascinating
+Judy, got his money changed into gold, which
+he placed in a belt worn under his shirt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is no telling what may happen,&rdquo; he
+said to the young Kentuckian, Jim Castleman,
+with whom he had struck up an acquaintance on
+the train. &ldquo;Gold won&rsquo;t melt in the water if we
+do get torpedoed, and if I have it next me, whoever
+wants it will have to do some tearing off of
+clothes to get it. And what will I be doing while
+they are tearing off my clothes?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good idea! I reckon I&rsquo;ll do the same&mdash;not
+that I have enough to weigh myself down with.&rdquo;
+Castleman was on his way to France to fight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t give a hang whether I fight with the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
+English, French, Serbs or Russians, just so I
+get in a few licks on the Prussians.&rdquo; He was
+a strapping youth of six feet three with no more
+idea of what he was going up against than a
+baby. War was to him a huge football game
+and he simply meant to get into the game.</p>
+
+<p>The <cite>Hirondelle</cite> was a slow boat but sailing
+immediately, so Kent and his new friend determined
+to take it, since its destination, Havre,
+suited them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I like the name, too,&rdquo; declared Kent, who
+shared with his mother and Molly a certain poetic
+sentiment in spite of his disclaimer of any such
+foolishness.</p>
+
+<p>There were very few passengers, the boat being
+a merchantman. Kent and Jim were thrown
+more and more together and soon were as confidential
+as two school girls. Kent had been
+rather noncommittal in his replies at first to
+Jim&rsquo;s questions as to what his business was in
+the war zone at such a time if it were not fighting.
+As their friendship grew and deepened,
+as a friendship can on shipboard in an astonishingly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
+short time, Kent was glad enough to talk
+about Judy and his mission in Paris.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She sounds like a corker! When is it to be?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know that it is to be, at all,&rdquo; blushed
+Kent. &ldquo;You see, we are not what you might call
+engaged.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your fault or hers?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, we have just drifted along. Somehow
+I didn&rsquo;t like to tie her down until I could make
+good&mdash;and she&mdash;well, I believe she felt the same
+way; but of course I can&rsquo;t say. She knows perfectly
+well that I have never looked at another
+girl since I saw her at Wellington when she and
+my sister graduated there. She has&mdash;well,&mdash;browsed
+a little, but I don&rsquo;t think she ever meant
+anything by it. We get along like a house afire,&mdash;like
+the same things,&mdash;think the same way,&mdash;we
+have never talked out yet.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if you&rsquo;ll excuse me, I think you were
+an ass not to settle the matter long before
+this.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think so? Do you think it would
+have been fair? Why, man, I owed some money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
+to my mother for my education in Paris and did
+not even have a job in sight!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pshaw! What difference does that make?
+Don&rsquo;t you reckon girls have as much spunk about
+such things as men have? If I ever see the girl
+I want bad enough to go all the way to Paris to
+get her, I&rsquo;ll tell her so and have an answer if I
+haven&rsquo;t a coat to my back.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps you are right. I just didn&rsquo;t want
+to be selfish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Selfish! Why, they like us selfish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kent laughed at the wisdom of the young
+Hercules. No doubt they (whoever &ldquo;they&rdquo; might
+be) did like Castleman selfish or any other way.
+He looked like a young god as he sprawled on
+deck, his great muscular white arm thrown over
+his head to keep the warm rays of the sun out
+of his eyes. His features were large and well
+cut, his hair yellow and curly in spite of the vigorous
+efforts he made to brush it straight. His
+eyes were blue and childlike with long dark
+lashes, the kind of eyes girls always resent having
+been portioned out to men. There was no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+great mentality expressed in his countenance but
+absolute honesty and good nature. One felt
+he was to be trusted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Doesn&rsquo;t it seem strange to be loafing around
+here on this deck with no thought of war and
+of the turmoil we shall soon be in?&rdquo; said Jim
+one evening at sunset when they were nearing
+their port. &ldquo;We have only a day, or two days
+at most, before we will be in Paris, and still it
+is so quiet and peaceful out here that I can hardly
+believe there is any other life.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me, too! I feel as though I had been born
+and bred on this boat. All the other things that
+have happened to me are like a dream and this
+life here on the good old <cite>Hirondelle de Mer</cite> is
+the only real thing. I wonder if all the passengers
+feel this way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There were no women on board but the other
+passengers were Frenchmen, mostly waiters from
+New York, going home to fight for <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la France</i>.
+The cargo was pork and beef, destined to feed
+the army of France.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that thing sticking up in the water<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
+out yonder?&rdquo; exclaimed Kent. &ldquo;It looks like
+the top of a mast just disappearing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A wreck, I reckon!&rdquo; exclaimed Jim.</p>
+
+<p>Kent smiled at his countryman&rsquo;s &ldquo;reckon.&rdquo;
+Having been away from the South for many
+months, it sounded sweet to his ears. The &ldquo;guess&rdquo;
+of the Northerner and &ldquo;fancy&rdquo; of the Englishman
+did not mean the same to him.</p>
+
+<p>The lookout saw the mast-like object at the
+same time they noted it, and suddenly there
+was a hurrying and scurrying over the whole
+ship.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look, it&rsquo;s sunk entirely out of sight! Jim
+Castleman, that&rsquo;s a German submarine!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The shock that followed only a moment afterwards
+was indescribable. It threw both of the
+Kentuckians down. They had hastened to the
+side of the vessel, the better to view the strange
+&ldquo;thing sticking up out of the water.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boats were lowered very rapidly and filled
+by the crazed passengers and crew. The poor
+waiters had not expected to serve their country
+by drowning like rats. As for the crew,&mdash;they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
+were noncombatants and not employed to serve
+any country in any way. They were of various
+nationality, many of them being Portuguese with
+a sprinkling of Scandinavians.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s a life preserver, Brown! Better put
+it on. This ain&rsquo;t the Ohio.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good! I&rsquo;ll take my chances in the water any
+day rather than in one of those boats. Can you
+swim?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure! I can do three miles without knowing
+it. And you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hump! Brought up within a mile of the Ohio
+River and been going over to Indiana and back
+without landing ever since I was in pants.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, let&rsquo;s dive now and get clear of the sinking
+boat. If anything happens to me and you
+get clear, you write my sister in Lexington&mdash;she&rsquo;s
+all I have left.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, Jim! Let&rsquo;s shake. If I give out
+and you get through, please go get Judy and
+take her back to my mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a go! But see here, there is nothing
+going to happen to us if endurance will count<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>
+for anything. Have you got on your money
+belt?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes; and you?&rdquo; said Kent, feeling for the
+gold he carried around his waist.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m all ready then.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The boats, loaded to their guards, were putting
+off. Our young men felt it was much safer
+to trust to themselves than to the crazy manning
+of the already overloaded boats. They were
+singularly calm in their preparations as they
+strapped on the life preservers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jim, throw away the papers you have, recommending
+you to that French general. We may
+get picked up by the submarine, and as plain,
+pleasure-seeking Americans we have a much better
+chance of being treated properly than if one
+of us was going to join the Allies.&rdquo; Kent had
+inherited from his mother the faculty of keeping
+his head in time of peril.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good eye, old man! They are in my grip and
+can just stay there. I reckon I&rsquo;m a&mdash;a&mdash;book
+agent. That won&rsquo;t compromise me any.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, stick to it! And here goes! We
+must stay together.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Kentuckians dived as well as the bulky
+life preservers would permit and then they swam
+quietly along side by side. The ship was rapidly
+settling. The last boat was off, so full that every
+little wave splashed over its panic-stricken passengers.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.<br />
+
+<small>TUTNO.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>The sea was comparatively calm and quite
+warm. If it had been anything but a shipwreck,
+our young men would have enjoyed the experience.
+They congratulated themselves that they
+had trusted to their own endurance and the life
+preservers rather than to the crazy boats when
+they saw one of the overloaded vessels come
+within an ace of turning turtle.</p>
+
+<p>The submarine was now on top of the water
+and was slowly steaming towards the scene of disaster.
+The boats made for the opposite direction
+as fast as the oarsmen could pull. They
+had not realized that all the submarine wanted
+was to destroy the pork and beef cargo. The
+hungrier the French army got the sooner they
+would be conquered by the Germans.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, my friend the book agent, what do you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>
+think about swimming in the direction of the
+enemy? Remember we are Americans, just plain
+Americans with no desire to do anything in the
+way of swatting Prussians.&mdash;Neutral noncombatants!&rdquo;
+said Kent, swimming easily, the life
+preserver lifting him so far out of the water
+that he declared he felt like a bell buoy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I&rsquo;ll remember! My line is family albums
+and de luxe copies of Ruskin. I hope those poor
+devils in the boats will make land or get picked
+up or something.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me, too! If the sea only stays so smooth they
+can make a port in less than a day, if they don&rsquo;t
+come a cropper. We are almost in the English
+Channel, I should say, due south of the Scilly
+Islands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I feel as though I belonged on them&mdash;here
+we are shipwrecked and floating around like
+a beach party, conversing as quietly as though it
+were the most ordinary occurrence to book agents
+and damsel seekers!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is no use in getting in a stew. I have
+a feeling that the Germans are going to pick us<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
+up. They are heading this way and I don&rsquo;t
+reckon they will let us sink before their eyes. If
+they don&rsquo;t pick us up, we are good for many
+hours of this play. I feel as fresh as a daisy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Same here!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank God, there weren&rsquo;t any women and
+children on board!&rdquo; said Kent fervently.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I was feeling that all the time. I&rsquo;d hate
+to think of their being in those crazy boats.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The German boat was quite close to them now.
+The deck was filled with men, all of them evidently
+in great good humour with themselves and
+Fate because of the terrible havoc they had played
+with the poor <cite>Hirondelle de Mer</cite>, who was now
+at her last gasp, the waves washing over her upper
+decks.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<cite>Wei gehts?&rdquo;</cite> shouted Jim, raising himself up
+far in the water and wigwagging violently at the
+death dealing vessel.</p>
+
+<p>It was only a short time before the efficient
+crew had Kent and Jim on board, in dry clothes
+and before an officer. The fact that they were
+Americans was beyond dispute, but their business<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+on the other side was evidently taken with
+a grain of salt by the very keen looking, alert
+young man who questioned them in excellent
+English.</p>
+
+<p>Jim was quite glib with his book agent tale.
+He got off a line of talk about the albums that
+almost convulsed Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why were you going to Paris to sell such
+things? Would a country at war be a good field
+for such an industry?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the country will not be at war long. We
+expect the Germans to have conquered in a short
+time, and then they will want many albums for
+the snapshots they have taken during the campaign.
+I have been sent as an especial favor by
+my company, who wish to honor me. I hate
+to think of all my beautiful books being sunk in
+the <cite>Hirondelle</cite>.&rdquo; Jim looked so sad and depressed
+that the young officer offered him a mug of beer
+and urged him to try the Bologna sausage that
+was among the viands waiting for them.</p>
+
+<p>Kent&rsquo;s reason for going to Paris was received
+with open doubt. It was very amusing in a way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+that they should be completely taken in by Jim&rsquo;s
+ingenuous tale of albums while Kent, telling the
+truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,
+should be doubted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Going to Paris to bring home a young lady?
+Is she your sister?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, she is a friend of my sister,&rdquo; answered
+Kent, feeling very much as though he were saying
+a lesson.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you know Paris?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I studied architecture at the Beaux Arts
+last winter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, then your sympathies are with France!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am an American and my nation is remaining
+neutral on the war.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, your nation but not the individuals!
+What were your intentions after finding the
+young lady?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To take her back to United States as fast as
+we could go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well! I am afraid the young lady
+will have to content herself in Paris for some
+weeks yet, as we are bound for other ports now.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
+Make yourselves at home,&rdquo; and with a salute the
+officer left them to the welcome meal which had
+immediately been furnished them after their
+ducking.</p>
+
+<p>If the Kentuckians had had nothing to do but
+enjoy life on that submarine, no doubt they
+could have done it. They were treated most
+courteously by officers and men. The food was
+plentiful and wholesome, the life was interesting
+and conversation with the sailors most instructive,
+but Jim was eager to strike that blow against
+Prussia and it was extremely irksome to him
+to have to keep up the farce of being a book agent.
+Kent was more and more uneasy about Judy,
+realizing, from the sample of Germans he now
+came in contact with, that ruthlessness was the
+keynote of their character. They were fighting
+to win, and win they would or die in the attempt;
+by fair means or foul, they meant to conquer
+the whole world who did not side with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gee, if I don&rsquo;t believe they can do it,&rdquo; sighed
+Jim, as he and his friend were having one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
+their rare tete-a-tetes. &ldquo;They have such belief
+in their powers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, they seem much more stable, somehow,
+than the French. Did you ever imagine anything
+like the clockwork precision with which this monster
+is run?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When do you reckon we will get off of her?
+We have been on a week now and I see no signs
+of landing us. I am always asking that human
+question mark, Captain von Husser, what he is
+going to do with us, and he just smiles until his
+moustache ends stick into his eyes, and looks
+wise. I feel like Hansel and Gretel and think
+maybe they are fattening us to eat later on. I
+am getting terribly flabby and fat,&rdquo; and Jim felt
+his muscles and patted his stomach with disapproval.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d certainly like to know where we are. You
+notice they never tell us a thing, and since we
+are allowed only in the cabin and on a certain
+part of the deck, we never have a chance at the
+chart. I wish they would let us bunk alone and
+not have that fat head in with us. This is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+first time they have let us talk together since
+we got hauled in, and I bet some one is to blame
+for this.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kent had hardly spoken before a flushed lieutenant
+came hurriedly up and with ill-concealed
+perturbation entered into conversation with
+them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gee whiz!&rdquo; thought Kent. &ldquo;I wish Jim Castleman
+and I knew some kind of a language that
+these butchers did not know. But the trouble
+is they are so terribly well educated they know
+all we know and three times as much besides.&rdquo;
+Suddenly there flashed into his mind a childish
+habit the Browns used to have of speaking in a
+gibberish called Tutno. &ldquo;I wonder if Jim knows
+it! I&rsquo;ve a great mind to try him.&rdquo; Putting his
+hand on his friend&rsquo;s arm, he said quite solemnly:
+&ldquo;Jug i mum, sank a nun tut, yack o u, tut a lul
+kuk, Tutno.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sus u rur e!&rdquo; exclaimed Jim, delightedly.</p>
+
+<p>The lieutenant looked quite startled, wigwagged
+to a brother officer who was passing and
+spoke hurriedly to him in German. As German<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+was worse than Greek to Kent and Jim (they
+had studied some Greek at school but knew no
+German) they did not know for sure what they
+were saying, but from the evident excitement of
+the two officers they gathered they had quite upset
+the calculations of their under-sea hosts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gug o tot, &rsquo;e mum, gug o i nun gug, sus o
+mum e!&rdquo; exclaimed Kent with such a mischievous
+twinkle in his eye that the two officers bristled
+their moustaches in a fury of curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yack o u, bub e tut!&rdquo; was Jim&rsquo;s cryptic rejoinder.</p>
+
+<p>For the benefit of my readers who have never
+whiled away the golden hours of childhood with
+Tutno or who have perchance forgotten it, I
+reckon (being a Southerner myself, I shall say
+reckon) I had better explain the intricacies of
+the language. Tutno is a language which is
+spoken by spelling and every letter sounds like
+a word. The vowels remain the same as in English
+but the consonants are formed by adding u
+and then the same consonant again. For instance:
+M is mum; N is nun; T is tut; R is rur.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+There are a few exceptions which vary in different
+localities making the language slightly different
+in the states. In Kentucky, C is sank; Y
+is yack; J is jug. Now when Jim exclaimed:
+&ldquo;Yack o u bub e tut!&rdquo; he conveyed the simple
+remark: &ldquo;You bet!&rdquo; to Kent&rsquo;s knowing
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>Kent had opened the conversation by the brilliant
+remark: &ldquo;Jim, can you speak Tutno?&rdquo; and
+Jim had answered: &ldquo;Sure!&rdquo; Then Kent had
+come back with: &ldquo;Got &rsquo;em going some!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Kentuckians were in great distress when
+they realized that no doubt the sinking of the
+<cite>Hirondelle de Mer</cite> had been reported in the
+United States and that their families must be in
+a state of doubt as to their whereabouts. They
+had requested the Captain to let them send a
+message if possible, and he had told them with
+great frankness that in war time the women must
+expect to be uncertain. Two more ships had been
+sunk since they had been taken on board, but they
+were kept in ignorance as to what ships they
+were or what had been the fate of the crew or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+passengers. They knew that some men had been
+added to the number of prisoners on board, but as
+they were kept in a compartment to themselves,
+they never saw them.</p>
+
+<p>Between operations, when the submarine came
+up on top of the water and all on board swarmed
+on deck to smoke and enjoy the fresh air and
+sunshine, Kent and Jim were politely conducted
+down into the cabin after they were deemed to
+have had enough, and then the other prisoners,
+whoever they were, were evidently given an airing.</p>
+
+<p>After our young men started their Tutno game
+they were never left alone one minute. Such a
+powwowing as went on after it was reported
+was never beheld. It was evidently considered
+of grave international importance. Once they
+found their keeper taking furtive notes. Evidently
+they hoped to gain something by finding
+out what the Americans were saying.</p>
+
+<p>The plentiful food that had at first been served
+to them was growing more meagre and less
+choice. There was nothing but a small portion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+of black bread with very bad butter and a cup
+of coffee for breakfast; a stew of a nondescript
+canned meat and more black bread for dinner,
+and for supper nothing but black bread with a
+smearing of marmalade.</p>
+
+<p>Jim&rsquo;s superfluous flesh began to go and Kent
+got as lean as a grey hound.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pup rur o vuv i sus i o nun sus, lul o wuv, I
+rur e sack kuk o nun!&rdquo; said Jim, tightening his
+belt.</p>
+
+<p>It had been more than two weeks since the sinking
+of the <cite>Hirondelle</cite> and the young men were
+growing very weary of the life. Their misery
+was increasing because of the uncertainty they
+knew their families must be in. No respite was
+in sight. They could tell by the balmy air when
+they were allowed on deck that they were further
+south than they had been when they were struck,
+but where, they had not the slightest idea.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The water looks as it does around Burmuda,
+but surely we are not over there,&rdquo; said Kent in
+Tutno.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Lord knows where we are!&rdquo; answered
+Jim in the same language.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish the brutes would let us telegraph our
+folks, somehow. They could do it if they chose.
+They can do anything, these Prussians.&rdquo; When
+Kent said Prussians in Tutno: &ldquo;Pup rur u sus
+sus i nun sus,&rdquo; the young officer whose turn it
+was to guard them whipped out his note book
+and examined it closely.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sus often repeated!&rdquo; he muttered.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.<br />
+
+<small>THE &ldquo;SIGNY.&rdquo;</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;The orders of the Commander are for the
+Americans to disembark!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A lieutenant clicked his heels in front of our
+friends and saluted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bub u lul lul yack!&rdquo; shouted Jim. &ldquo;Where?
+When?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Immediately!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The submarine was on the surface of the
+water, but Jim and Kent had been ushered below,
+evidently to give their mysterious fellow prisoners
+a turn at the deck. They were never allowed
+to see them, and to this day are absolutely ignorant
+as to who they were or how many or of
+what nationality.</p>
+
+<p>It turned out that a Swedish vessel, the <cite>Signy</cite>,
+had been sighted thirteen miles off the Spanish
+port of Camariñas. She was signaled and ordered
+to take aboard the Kentuckians and land<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
+them. Explicit commands were given the captain
+of the <cite>Signy</cite> that she was to land the young
+men immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Kent and Jim were too glad to get off the submarine
+to care where they were being landed.
+They only hoped it was not in South America.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gug o o dud bub yack!&rdquo; shouted Jim to the
+grinning crew of the German vessel.</p>
+
+<p>The young lieutenant of the inquisitive mind
+made another note in his little book as the life
+boat from the Swedish ship bore the young men
+away.</p>
+
+<p>They were very cordially received on board the
+<cite>Signy</cite> but not allowed to stay a moment longer
+than was necessary. The ship steamed to within
+a few miles of the Spanish port, all the time being
+followed up by the submarine, then the boats
+were lowered again and Kent and Jim rowed to
+shore. They were given a good meal in the interim,
+however, one that they were most pleased
+to get, too, as black bread and canned stew had
+begun to pall on these favored sons of Kentucky.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where in the thunder is Camariñas?&rdquo; queried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
+Kent. &ldquo;I know it is Spain, but is it north, south,
+east or west?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I reckon it isn&rsquo;t east and that&rsquo;s about all
+I know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It proved to be in the northwest corner and
+after some mix-ups, a person was found who
+could speak English. The American Consul was
+tracked, cablegrams were sent to Kentucky apprising
+their families of their safety, and at last
+our friends were on the train en route for Paris.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long and circuitous journey, over and
+under and around mountains. They would have
+enjoyed it at any other time, but Kent was too
+uneasy about Judy to enjoy anything, and Jim
+was too eager to get in line to swat the Prussians,
+as he expressed it, to be interested in Spanish
+scenery. They traveled third class as they
+had no intention of drawing too recklessly on
+their hoarded gold.</p>
+
+<p>After many hours of travel by day and night,
+they finally arrived in Paris. It was eleven at
+night and our young men were weary, indeed.
+The hard benches of the third class coaches had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+made their impression and they longed for sheets
+and made-up beds.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A shave! A shave! My kingdom for a shave!&rdquo;
+exclaimed Kent, as they stretched their stiffened
+limbs after tumbling out of the coach in the Gare
+de Sud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t forget I am a stranger in a strange
+land, so put me wise,&rdquo; begged Jim.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know a terribly cheap little hotel on Montparnasse
+and Raspail where we can put up, without
+even the comforts of a bum home, but we can
+make out there and it is cheap. The <cite>Haute
+Loire</cite> is its high sounding name, but it is not high,
+I can tell you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, let&rsquo;s do it. I hope there is some kind of
+a bath there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I trust so, but if there isn&rsquo;t, we can go to a
+public bath.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Kentuckians were a very much dishevelled
+pair. They had purchased the necessary toilet
+articles at Camariñas, but sleeping for nights in
+suits in which they had already had quite a
+lengthy swim did not improve their appearance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
+The submariners had pressed their clothes after
+their ducking, but Jim&rsquo;s trousers had shrunk
+lengthways until he said he felt like Buster
+Brown, and Kent&rsquo;s had dried up the other way,
+so that in walking two splits had arrived across
+his knees.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We look like tramps, but the <cite>Haute Loire</cite> is
+used to our type. I don&rsquo;t believe we could get
+into a good hotel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you going to look up your girl&mdash;excuse
+me, I mean Miss Kean, before you replenish your
+wardrobe?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, yes, I must not wait a minute. I would
+like to do it to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To-night! Man, you are crazy! Get that
+alfalfa off your face first. One night can&rsquo;t get
+her into much trouble.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps you are right. I am worn out, too,
+and a night&rsquo;s rest and a shave will do wonders
+for both of us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Paris looked very changed to Kent. The
+streets were so dark and everything looked so sad,
+very different from the gay city he had left only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
+a few weeks before. The <cite>Haute Loire</cite> had not
+changed, though. It was the same little hospitable
+fifth class joint. The madame received the
+exceedingly doubtful looking guests with as much
+cordiality as she would had they been the President
+of the Republic and General Joffre.</p>
+
+<p>There were no baths that night, but tumbling
+into bed, our Kentuckians were lost to the world
+until the next day. What if the Prussians did
+fly over the city, dropping bombs on helpless noncombatants?
+Two young men who had been torpedoed;
+had floated around indefinitely in the Atlantic
+Ocean; had been finally picked up by the
+submarine that had done the damage; had remained
+in durance vile for several weeks on the
+submarine, resorting to Tutno to have any private
+conversation at all; and at last been transferred
+to a Swedish vessel and dumped by them
+on the northwest coast of Spain&mdash;those young
+men cared little whether school kept or not. The
+bombs that dropped that night were nothing more
+than pop crackers to them. The excitement in
+the streets did not reach their tired ears.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Kent dreamed of Chatsworth and of taking
+Judy down to Aunt Mary&rsquo;s cabin so the old
+woman could see &ldquo;that Judy gal&rdquo; once more.
+Jim Castleman dreamed he swatted ten thousand
+Prussians, which was a sweet and peaceful dream
+to one who considered swatting the Prussians a
+privilege.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.<br />
+
+<small>THE CABLEGRAM.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tingaling, aling, aling! Phome a ringin&rsquo;
+agin! I bet that&rsquo;s Mr. Paul,&rdquo; declared Caroline,
+the present queen of the Chatsworth kitchen. &ldquo;I
+kin tell his ring ev&rsquo;y time. I&rsquo;m a goin&rsquo; ter answer
+it, Miss Molly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly, who was ironing the baby&rsquo;s cap strings
+and bibs (work she never trusted any one to do),
+smiled. It was one of Caroline&rsquo;s notions that
+each person had a particular way of ringing the
+telephone. She was always on the alert to answer
+the &ldquo;phome,&rdquo; and would stop anything she
+was doing and tear to be first to take down the
+receiver, although it always meant that some
+member of the family must come and receive the
+message which usually was perfectly unintelligible
+to the willing girl.</p>
+
+<p>The telephone was in the great old dining room,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
+because, as Mrs. Brown said, every one would
+call up at meal time and if you were there, you
+were there. Molly followed Caroline to the dining
+room, knowing full well that she would be
+needed when once the preliminaries were over.
+She gathered the cap strings and bibs, now neatly
+ironed and ready for the trip to Wellington that
+she would sooner or later have to take.</p>
+
+<p>Still no news from the <cite>Hirondelle de Mer</cite>, that
+is, no news from Kent. The last boat load of
+sailors and passengers had been taken up, but
+none of them could say for sure whether the two
+Kentuckians had been saved or not. One man
+insisted he had seen the submarine stop and take
+something or some one on board, but when closely
+questioned he was quite hazy as to his announcement.
+Jimmy Lufton had kept the cables hot
+trying to find out something. The Browns and
+Jim Castleman&rsquo;s sister had communicated with
+each other on the subject of the shipwrecked boys.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Low!&rdquo; she heard Caroline mutter with that
+peculiarly muffled tone that members of her race
+always seem to think they must assume when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
+speaking through the telephone. &ldquo;This here is
+Mrs. Brown&rsquo;s res-i-d-e-n-c-e! Yessir! This here
+is Ca&rsquo;line at the phome. Yessir! Miss Molly
+done made yo&rsquo; maw eat her breakfus&rsquo; in the baid.
+No, sir, not to say sick in the baid&mdash;yessir, kinder
+sick on the baid. Yessir! Miss Molly is a launderin&rsquo;
+of the cap ties fer the baby. We is all
+well, sir, yessir. I&rsquo;ll call Miss Molly.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Of course she hung up the receiver before
+Molly could drop her cap strings and reach the
+telephone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Caroline, why did you hang it up? Was
+it Mr. Paul?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yassum! It were him. I done tole you I
+could tell his ring. I hung up the reception cause
+I didn&rsquo;t know you was so handy, an&rsquo; I thought if
+I kep it down, it might was&rsquo;e the phome somehow,
+while I went out to fetch you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly couldn&rsquo;t help laughing, although it was
+very irritating for Caroline to be so intensely stupid
+about telephoning. Paul, knowing Caroline&rsquo;s
+ways, rang up again in a moment and Molly was
+there ready to get the message herself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly, honey, are you well? Is Mother well?
+How is the baby?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All well, Paul! Any news?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good news, Molly!&rdquo; Molly dropped all the
+freshly ironed finery and leaned against the wall
+for support. &ldquo;A cablegram from Spain! Kent
+was landed there by the German submarine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kent! Are you sure?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As sure as shootin&rsquo;! Let me read it to you&mdash;&lsquo;Safe&mdash;well,
+Kent.&rsquo; Tell Mother as soon as you
+can, Molly, but go easy with it. Good news
+might knock her out as much as bad news. I&rsquo;ll
+be out with John as fast as his tin Lizzie can buzz
+us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Safe! Kent alive and well!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly&rsquo;s knees were trembling so she could
+hardly get to her mother&rsquo;s room, where that good
+lady had been pretending to eat her breakfast in
+bed. Old Shep, standing by her bedside, had a
+suspiciously greasy expression around his mouth
+and was very busy licking his lips, which imparted
+the information to the knowing Molly that
+her mother&rsquo;s dainty breakfast had disappeared to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+a spot to which it was not destined by the two
+anxious cooks, Molly and Caroline.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly, what is it? I heard the &rsquo;phone ring.
+Was it Paul?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Mother! Good news!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brown closed her eyes and lay back on her
+pillows, looking so pale that Molly was scared.
+How fragile the good lady was! Her profile was
+more cameo-like than ever. These few weeks of
+waiting, in spite of the brave front she had shown
+to the world, had told on her. Could she stand
+good news any better than she could bad?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kent?&rdquo; she murmured faintly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Mother, a cablegram! &lsquo;Safe, well,
+Kent.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Spain, I don&rsquo;t know what part.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And then the long pent-up flood gates were
+opened and Mrs. Brown and Molly had such a
+cry as was never seen or heard of. The cap
+strings that Molly had dropped on the floor when
+she heard that there was news, she had gathered
+up in one wild swoop on the way to her mother&rsquo;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+room, and these were first brought into requisition
+to weep on, and then the sheets and the napkin
+from the breakfast tray, and at last even old
+Shep had to get damp.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I bus&rsquo; stop ad gall up Zue ad Ad Zarah. Oh,
+Bother, Bother, how good God is!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, darling, He is good whether our Kent
+was spared to us or not,&rdquo; said Mrs. Brown, showing
+much more command of her consonants than
+poor Molly.</p>
+
+<p>Caroline appeared, one big grin, bearing little
+Mildred in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She done woke up an&rsquo; say ter me: &lsquo;Ca&rsquo;line,
+what all dis here rumpus &rsquo;bout?&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As Mildred had as yet said nothing more than
+&ldquo;Goo! Goo!&rdquo; that brought the smiles to Molly and
+Mrs. Brown.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lawd Gawd a mussy! Is Mr. Kent daid?
+Is that what Mr. Paul done phomed? I mus&rsquo; run
+tell Aunt Mary. I boun&rsquo; ter be the fust one.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, no, Caroline! Mr. Kent is alive and
+well.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Live an&rsquo; well! Well, Gawd be praised!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
+When I come in an&rsquo; foun&rsquo; you all a actin&rsquo; lak what
+the preacher says will be in the las&rsquo; day er jedgment,
+a weepin&rsquo; an&rsquo; wailin&rsquo; an&rsquo; snatchin&rsquo; er teeth,
+I say ter myse&rsquo;f: &lsquo;Ca&rsquo;line, that there dream you
+had &rsquo;bout gittin&rsquo; ma&rsquo;id was sho&rsquo; sign er death,
+drownin&rsquo; referred.&rsquo; Well, Miss Molly, if&rsquo;n you&rsquo;ll
+hol&rsquo; the baby, I&rsquo;ll go tell Aunt Mary the good
+news, too. Cose &rsquo;tain&rsquo;t quite so scrumptious to
+be the fust ter carry good news as &rsquo;tis bad, but
+then news is news.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Sue was telephoned to immediately and joined
+in the general rejoicing. Aunt Sarah Clay was
+quite nonplussed for a moment because of the attitude
+she had taken about the family mourning,
+but her affection for her sister, which was really
+very sincere in spite of her successful manner of
+concealing it, came to the fore and she, too, rejoiced.
+Of course she had to suggest, to keep in
+character, that Kent might have communicated
+with his family sooner if he only would have exerted
+himself, but Molly was too happy to get
+angry and only laughed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aunt Clay can no more help her ways than a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
+chestnut can its burr.&rdquo; And then she remembered
+how as children they would take sticks and
+beat the chestnut burrs open and she wondered
+if a good beating administered on Aunt Clay
+might not help matters. She voiced this sentiment
+to her mother, who said:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear Molly, Life has administered the
+beating on your Aunt Clay long ago. It is being
+childless that makes her so bitter. I know that
+and that is the reason I am so patient, at least, I
+try to be patient with her. Of course, she always
+asserts she is glad she has no children, that my
+children have been a never ending anxiety to me
+and she is glad she is spared a similar worry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Mother, we are not a never-ending anxiety,
+are we?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, my darling, but an anxiety I would not
+be without for all the wealth of the Indies.
+Aren&rsquo;t you a little bit anxious all the time about
+your baby?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, yes, just a teensy weensy bit, but then
+I haven&rsquo;t got used to her yet.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, when you get used to her, she will be
+just that much more precious.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But then I have just one, and you have
+seven.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think you love her seven times as
+much as I love you, or Kent or Milly or any of
+them?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Mother, of course I don&rsquo;t. I know you
+love all of us just as much as I love my little
+Mildred, only I just don&rsquo;t see how you can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe you will have to have seven children to
+understand how I can, but when you realize what
+it means to have Mildred, maybe you can understand
+what it has meant always to poor Sister
+Sarah never to have had any children.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I suppose it is hard on her but, Mother dear,
+if she had had the seven and you had never had
+any, do you think for a minute you would have
+been as porcupinish and cactus-like in your attitude
+toward the world and especially toward
+Aunt Clay&rsquo;s seven as she is toward yours?
+Never!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly&rsquo;s statement was not to be combatted, although<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
+Mrs. Brown was not sure what she would
+have been like without her seven anxieties; but
+Molly knew that she would have been the same
+lovely person, no matter how many or how few
+children she had had.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to try to feel differently toward
+Aunt Clay,&rdquo; she whispered into her baby&rsquo;s ear, as
+she cuddled her up to her after the great rite of
+bathing her was completed that morning. &ldquo;Just
+think what it must be never to hold your own
+baby like this! Poor Aunt Clay! No wonder
+she is hard and cold&mdash;but goodness me, I&rsquo;m glad
+I did not draw her for a parent.&rdquo; The baby
+looked up into her mother&rsquo;s eyes with a gurgle
+and crow, as though she, too, were pleased that
+her Granny was as she was and not as Aunt Clay
+was.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are going to see Daddy soon, do you know
+that, honey baby?&rdquo; And Molly clasped her rosy
+infant to her breast with a heart full of thanksgiving
+that now there was no dire reason for her
+remaining in Kentucky longer.</p>
+
+<p>A farewell visit must be paid to Aunt Mary.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
+The baby was dressed in one of her very best
+slips and Molly put on her new blue suit for the
+occasion, as she well knew how flattered the old
+woman was by such an attention.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, bless Gawd, if here ain&rsquo;t my Molly baby
+and the little Miss Milly all dressed up in they
+best bibantucker! I been a lyin&rsquo; here a dreamin&rsquo;
+you was all back in the carstle, that there apple
+tree what you youngsters done built a house up&rsquo;n
+an&rsquo; Miss Milly done sent me to say you mus&rsquo; come
+an wash yo&rsquo; faceanhans fer dinner, jes&rsquo; lak she
+done a millium times, an&rsquo; who should be up in the
+tree with you an&rsquo; that there Kent but yo&rsquo; teacher
+an&rsquo; that there Judy gal.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly laughed as she always did when Aunt
+Mary called Professor Edwin Green, her teacher.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, chile, they was up there with you an&rsquo;
+Kent up&rsquo;n had the imprence to tell me to go tell
+his maw that he warn&rsquo;t comin&rsquo; ter no dinner,
+&rsquo;cause he an&rsquo; that there Judy gal was a keepin&rsquo;
+house up the tree.&rdquo; The old woman chuckled
+with delight at Kent&rsquo;s &ldquo;imprence.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shouldn&rsquo;t be astonished if they did go to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
+housekeeping soon, Aunt Mary, but I don&rsquo;t fancy
+it will be up a tree.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; what I done say all the time &rsquo;bout that
+there Kent not being drownded? When the niggers
+came a whining &rsquo;roun&rsquo; me a sayin&rsquo; he was
+sho&rsquo; daid &rsquo;cause they done had signs an&rsquo; omens, I
+say ter them I done had mo&rsquo; ter do with that there
+Kent than all of &rsquo;em put together an&rsquo; I lak ter
+know what they be havin&rsquo; omens &rsquo;bout him when
+I ain&rsquo;t had none. If&rsquo;n they was any omens a
+floatin&rsquo; &rsquo;roun&rsquo; they would a lit on me an&rsquo; not on
+that triflin&rsquo; Buck Jourdan. He say he dream er
+teeth an&rsquo; &rsquo;twas sho sign er death. I tell him
+mebbeso but &rsquo;twas mo&rsquo;n likely he done overworked
+his teeth a eatin&rsquo; er my victuals, a settin&rsquo;
+&rsquo;roun&rsquo; here dayanight a strummin&rsquo; on his gittah,
+an&rsquo; what&rsquo;s mo&rsquo; I done tole him he better git the
+blacksmith ter pull out one er his jaw teeth what
+ain&rsquo;t mo&rsquo;n a snaggle. Sukey low she goin&rsquo; ter
+send him in ter Lou&rsquo;ville ter one er these here
+tooth dentists, but I say the blacksmith is jes&rsquo; as
+good a han&rsquo; at drawin&rsquo; teeth as they is, an&rsquo; he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
+chawge the same as ter shoe a mule, an&rsquo; that ain&rsquo;t
+much.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But Aunt Mary, I should think if there is
+anything serious the matter with Buck&rsquo;s teeth he
+had better see a dentist. The blacksmith might
+break his tooth off.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who? This here blacksmith? Lawsamussy,
+honey, why he&rsquo;s that strong an&rsquo; survigorous that
+he would bust Buck&rsquo;s jaw long befo&rsquo; he break his
+tooth. He&rsquo;ll grab hol&rsquo; the tooth and put his knee
+in Buck&rsquo;s chist an&rsquo; he gonter hol&rsquo; on till either
+Buck or the tooth comes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A groan from the next room, the lean-to
+kitchen, gave evidence that Buck was in there, an
+unwilling eavesdropper since the method of the
+blacksmith on his suffering molar was the topic.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think the baby has grown, Aunt
+Mary?&rdquo; asked Molly, mercifully changing the
+subject.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, she done growed some an&rsquo; she done
+growed prettier. I seed all the time she were
+gonter be pretty, an&rsquo; when that there Paul came
+down here an&rsquo; give it to me that the new baby<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
+looked lak a pink mummy&mdash;I done tol&rsquo; him that I
+didn&rsquo;t know what a mummy were, but what ever
+it were, the new baby didn&rsquo;t look no mo&rsquo; lak one
+than he did when he was born, &rsquo;cause of all the
+wrinkly, scarlet little Injuns he would a fetched
+the cake. That done dried that there Paul up an
+he ain&rsquo;t been so bombast since bout the looks er no
+new babies.&rdquo; The old woman chuckled with delight
+in remembrance of her repartee.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aunt Mary, I think you are feeling better,
+aren&rsquo;t you? You seem much more lively than
+when I saw you last.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Cose I is feelin&rsquo; better. Ain&rsquo;t we done heard
+good news from that there Kent?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I thought you knew all the time he was
+all right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well now, so I did, so fur as I knew anything,
+but they was times when I doubted, an&rsquo; those
+times pulled me back right smart. Why, honey,
+I used ter pray the Almighty if he lacked a soul
+ter jes&rsquo; tak me. I is a no &rsquo;count ole nigger on the
+outside but mebbe my soul is some good yit. If I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+could give up my life fur one er Miss Milly&rsquo;s chillun,
+I&rsquo;d be proud ter do it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Aunt Mary, you have been so good to us
+always!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lawsamussy, chile! What I here fur but ter
+be good ter my white folks? They&rsquo;s been good
+ter me&mdash;as good as gole. I ain&rsquo;t never wanted
+fur nothin&rsquo; an&rsquo; I ain&rsquo;t never had a hard word
+from Carmichael or Brown, savin&rsquo;, of cose, Miss
+Sary. She is spoke some hard words in her day,
+but she didn&rsquo; never mean nothin&rsquo; by them words.
+I don&rsquo;t bear no grudge against po&rsquo; Miss Sary.
+The good Lord done made her a leetle awry an&rsquo;
+&rsquo;tain&rsquo;t fur me ter be the one ter try to straighten
+her out. Sometimes whin I lies here a thinkin&rsquo; it
+seems ter me mebbe some folks is made lak Miss
+Sary jes&rsquo; so they kin be angels on earth like yo&rsquo;
+maw. Miss Sary done sanctified yo&rsquo; maw. She
+done tried her an&rsquo; rubbed aginst her, burnt her in
+de fire of renunciation and drinched her in the
+waters of reproachment until yo maw is come out
+refimed gold.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Maybe you are right, Aunt Mary. I am trying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
+to be nicer about the way I feel about Aunt
+Clay myself. I think if I feel differently, maybe
+Aunt Clay would feel differently toward me.
+She does not like me, and why should she, since I
+don&rsquo;t really like her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t want ter take no Christian thoughts
+from yo&rsquo; min&rsquo; an&rsquo; heart, honey chile, but the good
+you&rsquo;ll git from thinkin&rsquo; kin&rsquo; things &rsquo;bout Miss
+Sary will be all yo&rsquo; own good. Miss Sary ain&rsquo;t
+gonter be no diffrent. She done got too sot in
+her ways. The leper ain&rsquo;t gonter change his
+spots now no mo&rsquo;n it did in the time er Noah, certainly
+no ole tough leper lak Miss Sary.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It was hard to tell the old woman good-by.
+Every time Molly left Chatsworth she feared it
+would be the last farewell to poor old Aunt Mary.
+She had been bedridden now for many months,
+but she hung on to life with a tenacity that was
+astonishing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cose, I is ready ter go whin the Marster
+calls,&rdquo; she would say, &ldquo;but I ain&rsquo;t a hurryin&rsquo; of
+him. A creakin&rsquo; do&rsquo; hangs long on its hinges an&rsquo;
+the white folks done iled up my hinges so, what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
+with good victuals with plenty er suption in &rsquo;em
+an&rsquo; a little dram now an&rsquo; then &rsquo;cordin&rsquo; ter the
+doctor&rsquo;s subscription, that sometimes I don&rsquo;t
+creak at all. I may git up out&rsquo;n this here baid &rsquo;fo
+long an&rsquo; be as spry as the nex&rsquo;. I wouldn&rsquo;t min&rsquo;
+goin&rsquo; so much if I jes&rsquo; had mo&rsquo; idee what Heaven
+is lak. I&rsquo;m so feard it will be strange ter me. I
+don&rsquo;t want ter walk on no goldin&rsquo; streets. Gold
+ain&rsquo;t no better ter walk on than bricks. Miss
+Milly done read me the Psalm what say: &lsquo;He
+maketh me to lay down in the green pastures.&rsquo;
+Now that there piece sounds mighty pretty&mdash;jes&rsquo;
+lak singin&rsquo;, but I ain&rsquo;t never been no han&rsquo; to set
+on the damp groun&rsquo; an&rsquo; Heaven or no Heaven, I
+low it would give me a misery ter be a doin&rsquo; it
+now; an&rsquo; as fer layin&rsquo; on it, no&rsquo;m! I wants a good
+rockin&rsquo; cheer, an&rsquo; I wants it in the house, an&rsquo;
+when I wants ter res&rsquo; myse&rsquo;f, a baid is good
+enough fer me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old woman&rsquo;s theology was a knotty problem
+for all of the Brown family. They would
+read to her from the Bible and reason with her,
+but her preconceived notion of Heaven was too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
+much for them. She believed firmly in the
+pearly gates and the golden streets, and freely
+announced she would rather have her own cabin
+duplicated on the other side than all the many
+mansions, and her own whitewashed gate with
+hinges made from the soles of old shoes than the
+pearly gates.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What I want with a mansion? The cabin
+whar I been a livin&rsquo; all my life is plenty good
+enough for this old nigger. An&rsquo; what&rsquo;s mo, blue
+grass a growin&rsquo; on each side of a shady lane is
+better&rsquo;n golden streets. I ain&rsquo;t a goin&rsquo; ter be
+hard-headed bout Heaven, but I hope the Marster
+will let me settle in some cottage an&rsquo; let it be in
+the country where I kin raise a few chickens an&rsquo;
+mebbe keep a houndog.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am sure the Master will let you have whatever
+you want, dear Aunt Mary,&rdquo; Molly would
+say.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But if&rsquo;n he does that, I&rsquo;ll get too rotten spiled
+ter stay in Heaven. He better limit me some, or
+I&rsquo;ll feel too proudified even fer a angel.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.<br />
+
+<small>WELLINGTON AGAIN.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it is nice to be back home,&rdquo; sighed Molly,
+settling herself luxuriously in the sleepy-hollow
+chair that was supposed to be set aside for the
+master of the house. With the girlish habit she
+had never outgrown, she slipped off her pumps
+and stretched out her slender feet to the wood
+fire, that felt very comfortable in the crisp
+autumn weather.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s what you said when we arrived in
+Kentucky in the spring,&rdquo; teased her husband.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, so it was nice. The migratory birds
+have two homes and they are always glad to get
+to whichever one is seasonable. I reckon I am
+with my two homes as Mother is with her seven
+children. I love them just the same. Thank
+goodness, I haven&rsquo;t seven of them, homes, I
+mean.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I think two are enough.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Which home do you love best, Wellington or
+the Orchard Home?&rdquo; asked Molly, smiling fondly
+at her husband, who was dandling little Mildred
+on his knees with awkward eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, neither one of them is home to me unless
+you are there, and whichever one you grace
+with your presence is for the time being the one I
+like the better.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the baby, too, whichever one she is in
+makes it home!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, certainly!&rdquo; exclaimed Edwin Green with
+a whimsical expression on his face. &ldquo;I see that
+when I make love now it is to be to two ladies and
+not to one.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think Mildred has grown a lot?
+And see, her eyes have really turned brown, just
+as Mother said they would. Don&rsquo;t you think she
+looks well?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, honey, I think she looks very well, but I
+don&rsquo;t think you do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me! Nonsense! I am as well as can be, just
+a little tired from the trip.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I know. Of course that was fatiguing,
+but I think you are thinner than you have any
+right to be. I am afraid you have been doing
+too much.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, not at all. I have had simply nothing to
+do but take care of the baby, and that is just
+play, real play.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Humph, no doubt! But maybe you have
+played too hard and that is what has tired you.
+I thought you were going to bring Kizzie along
+to nurse.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, that was your and Mother&rsquo;s plan! I never
+had any idea of doing it. &rsquo;Deed and um&rsquo;s muvver
+is going to take care of &rsquo;ittle bits a baby herself,&rdquo;
+and Molly reached out and snuggled the willing
+Mildred down in the sleepy-hollow chair.
+Daddy&rsquo;s knee was not the most comfortable spot
+in the world, and a back that has only been in the
+world about four months cannot stand for much
+dandling.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Molly darling, Kizzie is a good girl and
+it would help you ever so much to have her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
+You know we can well afford it now, so don&rsquo;t let
+the financial side of it worry you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, Edwin, I can&rsquo;t give up taking care of the
+baby. I just love to do it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, my dear, but please don&rsquo;t wear yourself
+out.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fact was that the long strain of waiting
+for news from Kent had told on Molly, and she
+was looking quite wan and tired. It was not just
+the trip from Kentucky, which, of course, was no
+easy matter. Twenty-four hours on the train
+with an infant that needed much attention and
+got much more than it really needed was no joke,
+but the long hours and days of waiting and uncertainty
+had taken Molly&rsquo;s strength. She did
+feel tired and had no appetite, but she felt sure a
+night&rsquo;s rest would restore her. She rather attributed
+her lack of appetite to the poor food that
+the new Irish maid, whom Edwin had installed in
+her absence, was serving.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take hold of her to-morrow and see what
+can be done,&rdquo; she said rather wearily to herself.
+&ldquo;I wish Mother could train her for me. I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
+much rather do the cooking myself than try to
+train some one who is as hopelessly green as this
+girl.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>That night little Mildred decided was a good
+time to assert herself. The trip had not tired
+her at all; on the contrary, it had spurred her on
+to a state of hilarity, which was very amusing at
+first but as the night wore on, ceased to be funny.
+She had come to the delightful knowledge of the
+fact that she had feet and that each foot had five
+toes. The cover did not stay on these little pigs
+one moment. Every time Molly would settle her
+tired bones and begin to doze, there would be a
+crow from Mildred, a gurgle, and straight in the
+air would go the bed clothes, tucked in for the
+millionth time by the patient young mother.
+Then the pink tootsies would leap into sight and
+soon find their way to a determined little mouth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Darling, you must go to sleepsumby!&rdquo; Molly
+would remonstrate. &ldquo;And you will catch your
+death if you don&rsquo;t keep covered up!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But the four months&rsquo; old baby had been too
+busy in her short life learning other things to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
+bother her head about a mere language. The
+business of the night was feet and feet alone.
+There was too much to do about those wonderful
+little feet for her to think of sleep. Finally Molly
+gave up. She closed the windows, as too much
+fresh air on bare feet and legs might not be best
+and already the little limbs were icy cold. Then
+she kindled a fire in the grate, the furnace not
+yet having been started, and gave herself up to a
+night of sleeplessness. Early in the action,
+Edwin had been banished to the guest chamber,
+as he must get sleep no matter what happened,
+for he had a busy day ahead of him.</p>
+
+<p>Toward morning little Mildred mastered her
+pedagogy, as her father had called it, and then
+she dropped off into a deep and peaceful sleep.
+The weary Molly slept, too.</p>
+
+<p>Before he went to his lectures, Edwin crept
+into the room to look at his sleeping treasures.
+The chubby baby still had a toe clasped in her
+hand but from very weariness had fallen over on
+her side and was covered up all but the pink foot,
+which was asserting itself in the remarkable position<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+that only the young can take. Molly looked
+very pale and tired but was sleeping peacefully.
+Edwin smiled at them. He had given the green
+maid from the Emerald Isle strict orders not to
+awaken them. He devoutly hoped that Molly
+would not know what a very mean breakfast he
+had endeavored to choke down; burnt bacon and
+underdone biscuit washed down with very weak
+coffee and flanked by eggs that had been cooked
+too long and not long enough, thereby undergoing
+that process that the chemist tells us is of all
+things the most indigestible: half hard and half
+soft. The burnt bacon had been cold and the
+underdone biscuit still cooking, seemingly, when
+the poor young husband and father had tried to
+nourish himself on them.</p>
+
+<p>He had rather hoped when Molly once got back
+to Wellington that his food would be better; no
+doubt it would as soon as she, poor girl, could get
+rested up. He was thankful, indeed, now that
+she was asleep and tiptoed out of the room and
+house without making a sound.</p>
+
+<p>She slept until late in the morning and then the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+business of the day began, getting little Mildred
+fed and washed and dressed and fed again and
+then to sleep. The good-natured, if wholly incapable,
+Katy hung around and waited on the pretty
+young mistress. Katy had never been out in service
+in the &ldquo;schtates,&rdquo; but had come from New
+York in answer to an advertisement in a newspaper
+inserted by the despairing professor when
+he had come back to Wellington alone while his
+wife waited in Kentucky for news of her brother.
+He had had kindly visions of getting a good Irish
+cook and having the housekeeping all running
+beautifully before Molly&rsquo;s return.</p>
+
+<p>Immigrant Katy proved rosy and willing but
+with no more conception of how to cook than she
+had how to clean. She was great on &ldquo;scroobing,&rdquo;
+but walls and furniture and carpets were not supposed
+to be scrubbed. The kitchen floor and pantry
+shelves were alike beautiful after her administrations,
+but gold dust and a stiff brush had not
+improved the appearance of the piano legs.
+Edwin had come home in the nick of time to stop
+her before she vented her energies on Molly&rsquo;s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
+own Persian rug, the pride of her heart because
+of the wonderful blue in it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What time is it, Katy?&rdquo; asked Molly after the
+baby was absolutely finished and tucked in her
+carriage to stay on the porch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis twilve of the clock, Miss, and I haven&rsquo;t
+so much as turned a hand below schtairs.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it can&rsquo;t be that late! Lunch at one!
+What are we to have?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that I am not knowing, Miss. Sure and
+there is nothing in the house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Katy, and I have been dawdling up here
+for hours! I forgot about keeping house, I was
+so taken up with the baby.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and no doubt your man will be sour
+about it, too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly, still in her kimono, flew to the regions
+below and began frantically to search for something
+to concoct into luncheon. A forlorn piece
+of roast veal was excavated and half a loaf of
+stale baker&rsquo;s bread. A can of asparagus, a leftover
+from the housekeeping of the spring,
+was unearthed. Olive oil was in the refrigerator,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
+also, butter, milk and eggs. The veal
+looked very hopeless, evidently having reposed
+for hours in a half cold oven before it had furnished
+forth a miserable dinner for the poor professor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now I&rsquo;ll &rsquo;form a miracle on the vituals,&rsquo; as
+dear Aunt Mary would say,&rdquo; declared Molly to
+herself. &ldquo;Katy, get the dining room straight.
+Don&rsquo;t scrub anything but just clear off the table
+and then set it again as well as you can. Put on
+a fresh lunch cloth and clean napkins; then see
+that the fire in the library is all right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The veal, run through the meat chopper, came
+out better than was to be expected, and croquettes
+were formed and frying in deep fat before the
+dazed Katy had cleared off the breakfast table.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Katy, you must hurry or we won&rsquo;t have the
+master&rsquo;s luncheon ready when he gets in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Faith, and, Mrs. Green, you do be flying
+round so schwift like, that I can&rsquo;t get me breath.
+I feel like the wind from your schkirts was sinding
+me back. All I can do is schtand schtill and
+breast the wind.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I tell you what you do then,&rdquo; laughed
+Molly: &ldquo;You come fly with the wind,&rdquo; and she
+caught the Irish girl by the hand and ran her
+around the dining room table just to show her
+how fast she could go if necessary. Katy, having
+got wound up, kept on going at a rate of speed
+that was astonishing. To be sure, she broke a
+cup and a plate, but what was a little chaney to
+the master&rsquo;s luncheon being served on time?</p>
+
+<p>The faithful can of asparagus was opened and
+heated; toast was made from the half loaf of
+stale bread, and a cream sauce prepared to pour
+over the asparagus on toast. Popovers were
+stirred up and in the oven before Katy got the
+table set, although she was going with the wind
+instead of trying to breast it. A few rosy apples
+from the orchard at Chatsworth, unearthed from
+the depths of the unpacked trunk, formed a salad
+with a mayonnaise made in such a hurry that
+Molly trembled for its quality; but luck being
+with her that day, it turned out beautifully.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No lettuce, so we&rsquo;ll put the salad on those
+green majolica plates and maybe he won&rsquo;t notice,&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
+she called to Katy, just as the professor
+opened the front door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mol&mdash;ly!&rdquo; he called.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here I am.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The mistress of the house emerged from the
+kitchen in a state of mussiness but looking very
+pretty withal, her red-gold hair curling up in little
+ringlets from the steam and her cheeks as rosy
+as though she had joost come over wid Katy.
+Her blue kimono was very becoming but hardly
+what she would have chosen to appear in at
+luncheon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am so sorry not to be dressed, but I had to
+hustle so as to get lunch ready in time. The
+clock struck twelve when I thought it was about
+ten.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you have to get luncheon? Where was
+Katy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She helped, but I wanted to have a finger in
+it. If you will wait a minute, I will get into a
+dress.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, you look beautiful in that loose blue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
+thing; besides, I have to eat and run. A faculty
+meeting is calling me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The luncheon was delicious, and Edwin gave it
+all praise by devouring large quantities of it.
+Molly could not eat much as she was too hot, and
+hurrying is not conducive to appetite. Mildred,
+who was sleeping on the porch, awoke when the
+meal was half over and Molly could not trust
+Katy to take her up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She might hold her upside down. I will bring
+her to the table and she can talk to you while you
+are finishing!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Molly flew to the porch and picked up her
+darling. She had intended to take her to the
+dining room but she remembered it was time for
+Mildred to have her food and so the patient
+Edwin had to finish his meal alone.</p>
+
+<p>He found his wife and baby on the upper back
+porch. The color had left Molly&rsquo;s cheeks and
+she was quite pale, and there was a little wan,
+wistful look in her countenance that Edwin did
+not like.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly, honey, you are all tired out. You did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
+not eat your luncheon and you got no sleep last
+night. What are we going to do about it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m all right! Please don&rsquo;t bother about
+me! Did you like the apple salad? They were
+apples from Kentucky.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fine! Everything was delicious. But I
+don&rsquo;t want you to wear yourself out cooking. If
+Katy can&rsquo;t cook, we must get some one who can.
+If she can&rsquo;t cook and you won&rsquo;t let her nurse, why
+what is the use of her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly, worn out with the sleepless night and
+the record breaking getting of a meal out of nothing,
+felt as though she would disgrace herself in a
+minute and burst into tears. She could not discuss
+the matter with Edwin for fear of breaking
+down. Edwin kissed her good-by and tactfully
+withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You goose, Molly Brown!&rdquo; she scolded herself.
+&ldquo;And what on earth are you so full of tears
+over? I know Edwin thinks I ought to have a
+nurse and I just can&rsquo;t trust Mildred to any one.
+I am going to try so hard to have everything so
+nice that he won&rsquo;t think about it any more.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A grand telephoning for provisions ensued,
+and a dinner was planned for six-thirty that
+would have taxed the culinary powers of a real
+chef and before which Katy bowed her head in
+defeat. It meant that by four Molly must be
+back in the kitchen to start things.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.<br />
+
+<small>IRISHMAN&rsquo;S CURTAINS.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Callers came in through the afternoon to welcome
+back to Wellington the popular wife of the
+popular professor and to glimpse the new baby.
+Kind Mrs. McLean, the wife of the doctor, a little
+older than when last we saw her but showing it
+only in her whitening hair and not at all in her
+upright carriage and British complexion, stopped
+in &ldquo;just for a moment&rdquo; to be picked up later by
+the doctor on his way to a country patient. Miss
+Walker herself, the busy president of Wellington,
+ran in from the meeting of the faculty to greet
+her one time pupil and to give one kiss to the college
+baby. Several of the seniors, who were
+freshmen when Molly was still at college as post
+graduate and who had the delight of calling her
+Molly while most of the others had to say Mrs.
+Green, came in fresh from a game of basketball,
+glowing with health and enthusiasm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>While these friends were all gathered about
+Molly and the baby, Alice Fern, Edwin Green&rsquo;s
+cousin, driving in to Wellington in a very stylish
+new electric car, stopped to make a fashionable
+call on her law kin. She had never forgiven
+Molly for stealing (as she expressed it) Edwin&rsquo;s
+affections. She was still Miss Fern, and although
+she was possessed of beauty and intelligence,
+it was likely that she would remain Miss
+Fern. Molly was never very much at her ease
+with Alice. She was particularly sensitive to any
+feeling of dislike entertained toward her, and
+Edwin&rsquo;s cousin always made her feel that she disapproved
+of her in some way.</p>
+
+<p>The living room in the broad old red brick
+house on the campus, occupied by the professor of
+English, was a pleasant room, breathing of the
+tastes and pursuits of the owners. Low bookshelves
+were in every nook and cranny, filled with
+books, the shelves actually sagging with them.
+Botticelli&rsquo;s Primavera, a present from Mary
+Stewart, adorned one wall; Mathew Jouette&rsquo;s
+portrait of Molly&rsquo;s great grandmother, a wedding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
+present from Aunt Clay, another. This was the
+portrait that looked so much like Molly and also
+like the Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè, between whom and
+Aunt Sarah Clay there was no love lost; indeed,
+it was this likeness that had induced Aunt Clay
+to part with such a valuable work of art. The
+other pictures were some dashing, clever sketches
+by Judy Kean, and Pierce Kinsella&rsquo;s very lovely
+portrait of Mrs. Brown, that had won honorable
+mention at the Salon and then had been sent by
+the young artist to adorn Molly&rsquo;s home. On
+the whole, it was a very satisfactory and tastefully
+furnished room and Molly and Edwin always
+declared they could talk better and think
+better in that room than in any they had ever
+seen.</p>
+
+<p>On that first day home, Molly was a little conscious
+of the fact that the room needed a thorough
+cleaning, not the scrubbing that Katy was
+so desirous of administering, but just a good
+thorough cleaning. However, she was so glad to
+see her friends again and so proud of showing her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
+wonderful baby to them that the cleaning seemed
+of small importance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll dust all the books to-morrow,&rdquo; she said
+to herself, &ldquo;and have Katy wipe down the walls,
+polish the glass on the pictures, and above all,
+wash the windows.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She well knew that Miss Walker and dear Mrs.
+McLean were not noticing such things, or, if they
+did, they would make all excuses. As for the college
+girls&mdash;dirt was not what they came to see.
+They came to see the lovely Molly and her adorable
+baby. If the walls were festooned with cobwebs,
+why that was the way walls should be in
+the home of a learned professor of English, who
+had written several books, besides the libretto to
+a successful opera, and who was married to a
+beautiful Titian-haired girl who was also a genius
+in her way, having been accepted in magazines
+when she was not even out of college.
+What did they care for dust on the books and
+smeary window panes? Molly was so popular
+with the college girls that in their eyes she was
+perfection itself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Alice Fern&rsquo;s entrance broke up the cheerful
+group gathered around Molly and the rosy Mildred.
+Miss Walker suddenly remembered that
+she had an important engagement and hurried
+off, and Mrs. McLean, who made no endeavor to
+hide her impatience at Miss Fern&rsquo;s exceeding
+smugness, went outside to wait for the doctor.
+The girls stayed, however, hoping to sit out the
+unwelcome interrupter.</p>
+
+<p>These girls were favorites of Molly&rsquo;s. The
+harum scarum Billie McKym from New York reminded
+her in a way of her own Judy, although
+no one else could see it. Josephine Crittenden,
+Tom boy of college and leader in all sports, hailed
+from Kentucky, and being a distant relative of
+Crittenden Rutledge, Mildred Brown&rsquo;s husband,
+was of course taken immediately under the wing
+of the loyal Molly. She had what she called a
+crush on Molly, and not a little did she amuse
+that young matron, as well as annoy her, by her
+gifts of flowers and candy.</p>
+
+<p>The third girl was from the West. Thelma
+Olsen was her name, and although her family<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
+had been in America for three generations,
+Thelma had inherited the characteristics of a
+Viking maiden along with the name. She was
+very tall, with an excellent figure and the
+strength of a man. Her hair was as yellow as
+gold and her eyes as blue as corn flowers. She
+moved with dignity, holding her head up like a
+queen. Her expression was calm and kindly.
+She had, in very truth, worked her way through
+college, which of course appealed to Molly, remembering
+well her own boot blacking days and
+her many schemes for making a few pennies.
+But what most touched our Molly was the fact
+that Thelma had a writing bee in her bonnet.
+The girl had an instinct for literature and a longing
+for expression that must come out. Professor
+Green thought very highly of her gift for
+prose and did much to encourage her.</p>
+
+<p>These three girls formed a strange trio, but
+they were inseparable, having roomed together
+since their freshman year. Billie was very rich
+in her own name, since she was an orphan with
+nothing closer than a guardian and an aunt-in-law.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
+Money meant no more to her than black-eyed
+peas. She was intensely affectionate and
+where she loved, she loved so fiercely that it positively
+hurt, she used to say. She was witty and
+clever but not much of a student, as is often the
+case where learning comes too easily. She was
+so generous it was embarrassing to her friends.
+Her talent lay in clothes. She knew more about
+clothes than Paquin and Doucet and all the others.
+It positively hurt her when her friends did
+not wear becoming clothes, just as it hurt her
+when she loved them so hard. The object of her
+life was to clothe her dear friend Thelma in dark
+blue velvet. Thelma was too proud to be clothed
+in anything that she had not paid for herself, and
+the consequence was that coarse blue serge was
+as near as she came to poor Billie&rsquo;s dream.</p>
+
+<p>Alice Fern seated herself on the front of a
+chair with very much of a lady-come-to-see expression
+and then formally entered into a conversation,
+going through the usual questions
+about when Molly had arrived and how old the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>
+baby was, polite inquiries regarding the relatives
+in Kentucky, etc.</p>
+
+<p>Molly was eager to get into the kitchen just for
+a moment to start Katy on the right track, well
+knowing that nothing would be doing until she
+did, but Alice Fern&rsquo;s arrival made that impossible.
+She would not in the least have minded excusing
+herself for a moment to the girls, but if
+Edwin Green had to wait until midnight for his
+dinner, she could not be guilty of such a breach
+of etiquette with the cousin-in-law, whose disapproval
+she felt was ever on the alert for a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">raison
+d&rsquo;être</i>. A leg of lamb, and well grown lamb at
+that, must have plenty of time and the oven must
+be hot (something Katy knew nothing about),
+but the wife of Professor Green must not let his
+relatives know that she was such a poor manager
+as to have to leave the parlor to attend to
+cooking at a time in the afternoon when callers
+were supposed to be doing their calling.</p>
+
+<p>Alice Fern was really a very pretty young
+woman, and since she had nothing to do but attend
+to her person, she was always excellently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+well groomed. No blemish was allowed on her
+faultless complexion from sun or wind. An hour
+a day was religiously given up to massage and
+manicure. Her hair was always coiffed in the
+latest mode, and not one lock was ever known to
+be out of place. Her costume was ever of the
+richest and most stylish.</p>
+
+<p>On that afternoon, as she rode up in her closed
+electric car, dressed in a fawn-colored suit with
+spotless white gloves and spats, she really looked
+like a beautiful wax figure in a showcase. Beside
+her, poor Molly looked like a rumpled Madonna.
+She had on a very becoming blue linen
+house dress that she had donned as not only suitable
+for possible callers but also not too pure or
+good in which to cook her husband&rsquo;s food. The
+baby had delighted the admiring audience, before
+the arrival of Miss Fern, by clutching a handful
+of her mother&rsquo;s pretty hair and having to have
+her little pink fingers opened one by one to disengage
+them. No doubt it was a highly intelligent
+and charming performance, but it had played sad
+havoc with Molly&rsquo;s hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are so glad you are back, Molly, for more
+reasons than one,&rdquo; exclaimed Jo Crittenden, hoping
+to loosen the tension a little, when Alice had
+completed her perfunctory catechism. &ldquo;When
+are you going to begin the Would-be Authors&rsquo;
+Club?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, do begin soon!&rdquo; begged Billie. &ldquo;Thelma
+has turned out some scrumptious bits during vacation,
+and even I have busted loose on paper.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I have written a lot this summer,&rdquo; said
+Thelma, as Molly smiled on her. &ldquo;Have you
+done anything, or has the baby kept you too
+busy?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I had plenty of time while I was in Kentucky.
+You see, out there I have a very good
+servant and then my mother helps me with Mildred.
+I have finished a short story and sent it
+off. Of course, I am expecting it back by every
+mail.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should think your household cares would
+prevent your giving much time to scribbling,&rdquo;
+sniffed Alice, if one could call the utterances of
+such an elegant dame sniffing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Scribbling! Why, Mrs. Green has written
+real things and been in real magazines,&rdquo; stormed
+Billie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, indeed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and if we had not limited the Would-be
+Authors to twenty, we would have the whole of
+Wellington clamoring to join,&rdquo; declared Jo, who
+considered it was high time for a perfect gentleman
+to step in and let Miss Alice Fern know how
+Wellington felt toward Mrs. Edwin Green.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Fern said nothing but stared at the corner
+of the room that Edwin and Molly called:
+&ldquo;The Poet&rsquo;s Corner.&rdquo; It was where all the
+poetry, ancient, medieval and modern, found shelf
+room. Over it hung Shakespeare&rsquo;s epitaph, a
+framed rubbing from the tomb, the same that
+Edwin had always kept over his desk in his
+bachelor days to scare his housekeeper, Mrs.
+Brady, into sparing his precious papers.</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0a">&ldquo;Good frend for Isus sake forbeare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To digg ye dust encloased heare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bleste be ye man yt spares thes stones<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And curst be he yt moves my bones.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She kept her eyes so glued to the spot over the
+book shelves that finally all turned involuntarily
+to see what she was gazing on so intently. There
+it hung! There was no denying it or overlooking
+it: a great black cobweb that must have been
+there for several generations of spiders. No
+doubt it had taken all summer to weave such a
+mighty web and catch and hold so much grime.</p>
+
+<p>Molly blushed furiously. For a moment, she
+almost hated Katy and she wholly hated Alice
+Fern. That elegant damsel had a supercilious expression
+on her aristocratic countenance that said
+as plainly as though she had given utterance to
+her thoughts:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Author&rsquo;s Club, indeed! She had much better
+clean her house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly was suddenly conscious that every corner
+was festooned with similar webs. The late
+afternoon sun was slanting in the windows and
+its searching rays had found and were showing
+up every grain of dust. The panes of glass were,
+to say the least, grimy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she faltered, &ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t know it was so&mdash;so&mdash;dusty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
+in here. Katy, the new maid, was
+supposed to have cleaned it before I came.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you care for a few Irishman&rsquo;s curtains?&rdquo;
+said the hero-worshipping Billie. &ldquo;No
+one noticed them until&mdash;ahem&mdash;until the sun
+came in the window.&rdquo; She <em>said</em> sun came in the
+window but she plainly <em>meant</em> Fern came in the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I haven&rsquo;t had time to do much housekeeping
+since I got back,&rdquo; continued Molly, lamely. &ldquo;The
+new maid, Katy, that Edwin got from New York,
+is most inefficient but so good-natured that I am
+hoping to train her. The truth of the matter is
+that she and I spent the whole morning doing
+things for Mildred and we let the house go. I
+am going to have a big cleaning to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly felt like weeping with mortification and
+she began to hate herself for making explanations
+and excuses to Alice Fern. Even if she kept
+Professor Green&rsquo;s house festooned in cobwebs
+from attic to cellar and had dust over everything
+thick enough to write your name, what business
+was it of this perfect person? She suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
+realized, too, that that perfect person had never
+uttered a word although she had looked volumes.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Fern arose from her prim seat and made
+a rather hasty retreat. The relieved Molly excused
+herself to the girls and rushed to the
+kitchen to start Katy on the dinner that should
+have been on half an hour before. What was
+her chagrin to find the fire only just kindled, as
+Katy had let it go out so that she might polish
+the stove. The Irish girl was on her knees
+&ldquo;scroobing,&rdquo; happy in a sea of soap suds.</p>
+
+<p>Molly almost had hysterics. How could she
+ever get things done? Edwin would be home any
+moment now and she could not stand having a
+miserable underdone dinner for him, nor could
+she stand having his dinner hours late. She
+realized that there was no use in reprimanding
+Katy,&mdash;the girl was simply ignorant. She asked
+her gently to postpone her &ldquo;scroobing&rdquo; until
+later and to wash her hands and prepare the
+vegetables. Then she piled kindling wood in the
+range until the chimney roared so that Katy said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
+it sounded like a banshee. The oven must be hot
+for the roast.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I tell you what to do, Katy: make some tea
+immediately and slice some bread quite thin, open
+this box of peanut cookies, and we will have such
+a grand tea that the master won&rsquo;t be hungry until
+the roast is done.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And phwat a schmart trick!&rdquo; laughed the girl.</p>
+
+<p>When Miss Fern made her adieux, Molly had
+flown so quickly to the kitchen that she had not
+seen her husband crossing the campus. Alice
+Fern had seen him, however, and her greeting of
+him was so warm and friendly, her smile so
+charming and her manner so cordial that she
+hardly seemed the same person who had just left
+poor Molly stuttering and stammering apologies
+over her Irishman&rsquo;s curtains.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look at the pill!&rdquo; exclaimed Jo. &ldquo;She is
+about to eat up Epiménides Antinous Green.&rdquo;
+That was the name Professor Green was known
+by at Wellington.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did you ever see any one cast such a damper
+over a crowd without saying a single word? I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
+thought Molly was going to cry,&rdquo; declared
+Billie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think our friend is looking very tired,&rdquo; said
+Thelma. &ldquo;I wish we could do something for her.
+She says this new maid is almost worse than
+none at all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a scheme!&rdquo; squealed Billie. &ldquo;I know
+of a way to help. Gather &rsquo;round me, girls!&rdquo;
+And then such another whispering as went on in
+the house&mdash;while Molly behaved like triplets in
+the kitchen, being in at least three places at one
+time in her determination to get dinner on the
+stove. Mildred lay on the divan, happy with her
+newly found toes, and Edwin helped Alice Fern
+into her glass show case.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I appreciate your coming to see my wife so
+soon, Alice. I should so like to have you and
+Molly be close friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thank you, Edwin, I am sure nothing would
+please me more. You must bring Molly out to
+see us.&rdquo; Could this be the same person who had
+made the living room look so dusty and ill kempt
+only a few minutes before, this gracious, charming,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
+sweet, friendly creature, who doted on babies?
+She had paid no attention to Mildred except
+to give her a tentative poke with her daintily
+gloved finger, but to hear her conversation with
+Edwin, one would have gathered that she was a
+supreme lover of children.</p>
+
+<p>The girls would not stay to tea, although Molly
+pressed them, but full of some scheme, they hurried
+off.</p>
+
+<p>Dinner was not so very late, after all, and the
+tea and bread and peanut cookies saw to it that
+the professor was not too hungry before the leg
+of lamb had reached the proper stage of serving.
+Molly was too much of a culinary artist not to
+feel elated when things turned out right, which
+they usually did if she could get her finger in the
+pie. The day had been a very trying one for her.
+The sleepless night had left her little strength to
+grapple with it and the slow stupidity of Katy
+was very irritating. It was over at last, however,
+and dear little Mildred had decided to let
+her pigs rest and had gone quietly to sleep at the
+proper time that a well-trained infant should.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
+Edwin was smoking his after-dinner pipe and
+everything was very peaceful and pleasant.
+Molly was trying to keep her eyes open, ashamed
+to confess that she was so sleepy she could hardly
+see.</p>
+
+<p>She lay back in the easy chair while Edwin
+read aloud from his scrap book of fugitive verse.
+This scrap book Professor Green had started
+when he was in college, putting in only the rare,
+fine things he found in magazine reading. Molly
+had helped him in his collecting and now the volume
+was assuming vast proportions.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Molly&rsquo;s upturned eyes rested on the
+terrible cobweb that had been her Waterloo of the
+afternoon. How black and threatening it looked!
+She hoped Edwin would not see it. And the
+books! Actually you had to open one and beat it
+and blow it before you dared begin to read. All
+this must be cleaned to-morrow and oh, how tired
+she was!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did not Alice look lovely this afternoon?&rdquo;
+said Edwin, stopping his reading for a moment.
+&ldquo;I hope you and she are going to be great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
+friends. I think it was very nice for her to come
+so soon to call on you. She spoke so sweetly of
+the baby, too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Molly said nothing but gazed at the cobweb.
+She said nothing but she did some thinking:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Molly Brown, what right have you, just because
+you are tired and Alice Fern came to call
+on you, looking very pretty and very beautifully
+dressed, and found you all frumpy and your living
+room looking like a pig sty, what right have
+you, I say, to sulk? Now you answer your husband
+and tell him Alice was pretty and don&rsquo;t tell
+him anything else.&rdquo; Accordingly, after giving
+herself the mental chastisement, Molly emitted a
+faint:</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, very pretty!&rdquo; But it was so faint and
+so far away that Edwin looked at her in alarm,
+and then it was that she could stand nothing more
+and broke down and shed a few tears.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Molly, my dearest girl, what is the
+matter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing, but I am tired and everything is so
+dirty. Look at the cobwebs! Look at the dust<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
+on the books! Look at me! I am an old frowsy,
+untidy frump.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You! Why, honey, you are always lovely.
+As for dust&mdash;don&rsquo;t bother about that. Let me
+read you this wonderful little poem by Gertrude
+Hall. I clipped it years ago.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Professor Green saw that Molly was tired and
+unstrung and he well knew that nothing soothed
+her more than poetry. Of course, man-like, he
+had no idea that what he had said about Alice
+Fern&rsquo;s looking so sweet had been too much for
+her, as she had contrasted herself all the afternoon
+with her husband&rsquo;s immaculate cousin.
+Molly wiped away the foolish tears as Edwin
+read the poem.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center">&ldquo;THE DUST.</p>
+
+<p class="center">By Gertrude Hall.</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It settles softly on your things,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Impalpable, fine, light, dull, gray;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dingy dust-clout Betty brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And, singing, brushes it away:<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it&rsquo;s a queen&rsquo;s robe, once so proud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And it&rsquo;s the moths fed in its fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It&rsquo;s leaves, and roses, and the shroud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wherein an ancient Saint was rolled.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And it is beauty&rsquo;s golden hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And it is genius&rsquo; wreath of bay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it is lips once red and fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That kissed in some forgotten May.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is lovely, exquisite!&rdquo; breathed Molly. &ldquo;I
+don&rsquo;t feel nearly so bad about it as I did.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But she did wish that Alice Fern had not seen
+that black, black cobweb.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.<br />
+
+<small>HEROES AND HERO WORSHIPERS.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>The next morning poor Molly slept late again.
+With all good intentions of waking early and going
+down stairs in time to see about her husband&rsquo;s
+neglected breakfast, when morning came she did
+not stir. Mildred had given her another wakeful
+night after all, finding out more things about
+her little pigs. Finally the little monkey had
+given up and dropped off to sleep, and she and her
+doting mother were both dead to the world when
+the time came for Professor Green to go to
+lectures.</p>
+
+<p>Again he gave instructions to Katy not to disturb
+the mistress and crept out of the house as
+still as a mouse. Breakfast had been a little better.
+Molly was rubbing off on Katy evidently.
+Just to associate with such a culinary genius as
+Molly must have its effect even on the worst cook
+in the world, which Katy surely seemed to be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Coming across the campus, he ran into Billie
+McKym, Josephine Crittenden and Thelma
+Olsen. They looked very bright and rosy as they
+gave him a cheery good morning. Each carried
+a bundle. He wondered that they were going
+away from lecture halls instead of toward them.
+But after all, it was not his business to be the
+whipper-in for lectures. Wellington was a college
+and not a boarding school. If students chose
+to cut lectures, it was their own affair until the
+final reckoning.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Just our luck to meet Epiménides Antinous!&rdquo;
+cried Billie. &ldquo;He should have been out of the
+house five minutes ago, at least.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His legs are so long he doesn&rsquo;t have to start
+early,&rdquo; declared Jo. &ldquo;Just see him sprint!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am certainly sorry to cut his lecture to-day,&rdquo;
+sighed Thelma, &ldquo;but this thing must be done.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Greens&rsquo; front door was never locked except
+at night, so the girls crept quietly in. Billie
+peeped into the kitchen, where she discovered
+Katy on her knees &ldquo;scroobing&rdquo; the part of the
+kitchen she could not finish the evening before,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
+when Molly was so hard-hearted as to make her
+stop and prepare vegetables. Such a sea of
+suds!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Katy,&rdquo; whispered Billie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Merciful Mither! And phwat is it? Ye scart
+me,&rdquo; and the girl sat back on her heels and looked
+at Billie with round, wide eyes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are great friends of Mrs. Green and we
+have come to dust her books and&mdash;ahem&mdash;do a
+few little things. Is she still asleep?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yis, and the master was after saying she must
+not be distoorbed, not on no account.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course she must not be! That is why we
+have come to dust the things. We think she
+looks so tired.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And so she is, the scwate lamb; but she do fly
+around so, and she do cook up so mooch. I tell
+her that she thinks more of her man&rsquo;s insides thin
+she do of her own outsides.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, Katy, we want you to let us have a
+broom and a wall brush. We brought our own
+aprons and rags,&rdquo; and Billie pressed a round,
+hard something into Katy&rsquo;s hand. It was not so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
+large as a church door nor so deep as a well, but
+it served to get the Irish girl up off of her run-down
+heels; and in a trice the coveted broom and
+wall brush were in possession of the three conspirators,
+as well as a stepladder, which they decided
+would be needful.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t say a word to Mrs. Green, Katy,&mdash;now
+remember. We are going to work very quietly
+and hope to finish before she gets downstairs.
+We don&rsquo;t want her to know who did it, but we
+mean to get it all done before noon,&rdquo; said Jo, rolling
+up her sport shirtsleeves and disclosing muscular
+arms, that showed what athletics had done
+for her and what she could do for athletics.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where must we begin, Thelma?&rdquo; asked Billie,
+who was as willing as could be but knew no more
+about cleaning than a hog does about holidays, Jo
+declared.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Begin at the top,&rdquo; laughed Thelma, tying up
+her yellow head in a great towel and rolling up
+her sleeves.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gee, your arms are beautiful!&rdquo; exclaimed Billie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;d give my head for such arms. I&rsquo;d like
+to drape them in a silver scarf. Think how they
+would gleam through.&rdquo; The arms were snow
+white and while Thelma&rsquo;s strength was much
+greater than Jo&rsquo;s, her muscles did not show as
+they did on that athletic young person.</p>
+
+<p>Thelma blushed and laughed as she balanced
+herself on a stepladder and began taking down
+pictures. A cloud of dust floated down and enveloped
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Look, look! She looks like the &lsquo;white armed
+Gudrun&rsquo;! Don&rsquo;t you remember in William
+Morris&rsquo;s &lsquo;Fall of the Neiblungs&rsquo;? The battle in
+Atli&rsquo;s Hall?</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0b">&ldquo;&lsquo;Lo, lo, in the hall of the Murder where the
+white-armed Gudrun stands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aloft by the kingly high-seat, and nought
+empty are her hands;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the litten brand she beareth, and the grinded
+war-sword bare:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still she stands for a little season till day groweth
+white and fair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without the garth of King Atli, but within, a
+wavering cloud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rolls, hiding the roof and the roof-sun; then she
+stirrith and crieth aloud.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cut it out! Cut it out!&rdquo; cried Jo, &ldquo;and come
+lend a hand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mustn&rsquo;t we dust before we sweep?&rdquo; innocently
+asked Billie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you want to, but you&rsquo;ll have to dust again
+afterwards,&rdquo; said the white-armed Gudrun from
+her ladder. &ldquo;The books are really so dirty that
+I don&rsquo;t think it would hurt to wipe down the walls
+without covering them, but that is a mighty poor
+cleaning method. Poor Molly! Didn&rsquo;t she look
+tired yesterday? I hope she won&rsquo;t think we are
+cheeky to take a hand in her affairs.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cheeky! She will think we are her good
+friends, not like that snippy Miss Fern who
+stared so at the cobwebs and then went out and
+palavered over Epiménides Antinous. She used
+to claim him, so I am told. One of the nurses at
+the infirmary told me that when Epi Anti had
+typhoid there, years ago, Miss Fern came and
+dressed herself up like a nurse and almost bored
+the staff to death taking care of her sick cousin,&rdquo;
+said Billie, delighted with the job that had been
+given her of wiping down walls. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
+splendid? Just look at all the dirt I got on my
+rag!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, don&rsquo;t rub it back on the wall,&rdquo; admonished
+Jo.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No. Well, what must I do with it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t say, but don&rsquo;t put it back on the
+walls.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jo, you and Billie dust the books and I will
+finish up the pictures. I can&rsquo;t trust myself to
+dust Professor Green&rsquo;s books. I am afraid of
+breaking the tenth commandment all the time,&rdquo;
+sighed Thelma. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll wash the windows, too.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Thelma! The white-armed Gudrun sitting
+in windows washing them! That&rsquo;s not occupation
+meet for a queen. Let me do it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You, Billie McKym, wash a window! Did
+you ever wash one in your life?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, no, not exactly, but I bet I could.
+What&rsquo;s the use of a college education if one can&rsquo;t
+wash windows when she gets to be a full grown
+senior?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>But since the object of the girls was to get the
+room clean, it was decided that Thelma was to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
+wash the windows. My, how they worked! Jo
+found she had muscles that her athletics had
+never revealed. She found them because they
+began to ache.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, to dust all these books and books is as
+bad as building a house,&rdquo; she said, straightening
+up and stretching when she had finished the
+poet&rsquo;s corner.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Exactly like laying brick,&rdquo; declared Billie.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to join the Hod-carriers&rsquo; Union. I&rsquo;ll
+be no scab.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Katy had occasionally poked her head in at the
+door, entreating &ldquo;whin they coom to the scroobing&rdquo;
+to call her.</p>
+
+<p>The cleaners made very little noise, so little
+that the sleeping Molly and Mildred were not at
+all disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish she knew it was almost done,&rdquo; said
+Thelma, perched in the window sill and rubbing
+vigorously on a shining pane. &ldquo;She would be so
+glad. I know she is worrying about it in her
+sleep. Hark! There is the baby!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then began the business of the day upstairs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
+Katy was called, for water must be heated as
+Katy, according to her habit, had let the fire go
+out before the boiler was hot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Katy, we must hurry up with Mildred this
+morning and get to the library. It is filthy,&rdquo; said
+Molly, as she slipped the little French flannel petticoat
+over Mildred&rsquo;s bald head.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, mum!&rdquo; grinned Katy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have luncheon almost ready, with the cold
+lamb to start with.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, mum.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think you could get the dining room
+cleaned while I am attending to the baby?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, mum, if yez can schpare me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I think I can. But, Katy, before you go
+hand me that basket. And, Katy, perhaps you
+had better wash out this flannel skirt. I am so
+afraid she might run short of them. You can
+empty the water now&mdash;and, Katy, please hold the
+baby&rsquo;s hand while I tie this ribbon, she is such a
+wiggler&mdash;and, Katy&mdash;a little boiled water now
+for her morning tipple. She must drink lots of
+water to keep in good health.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, mum, and how aboot breakfast for yez,
+mum?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I forgot my breakfast! Of course I must
+eat some breakfast. I&rsquo;ll come down to it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no, mum! And let me be after bringing
+it oop to yez, mum,&rdquo; insisted the wily Katy, who
+was anxious for the youthful house cleaners to
+accomplish their dark and secret mission without
+interruption. Not only was it great fun, a huge
+joke, in fact, for her to be paid fifty cents to let
+others do her work, but it meant that since others
+were doing it, she would not have to, and she
+could have just that much more time for &ldquo;scroobing&rdquo;
+and resting. A tray was accordingly got
+ready and Molly found she had a little more
+appetite than the morning before; also, that
+Katy&rsquo;s food was really a little better.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your coffee is better this morning, Katy,&rdquo; she
+said, believing that praise for feats accomplished
+but egged on the servitor to other and greater
+effort.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, mum, so the master said.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor Edwin,&rdquo; thought Molly, &ldquo;how I have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
+neglected him. I must do better. But if I don&rsquo;t
+wake up, I don&rsquo;t wake up. If I could only get a
+little nap in the day time. Mother always
+wanted me to take one, but how can I? The living
+room must be cleaned to-day.&rdquo; She felt
+weary at the thought. Accustomed as she was to
+being out of doors a great deal, she really needed
+the fresh air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As soon as luncheon is over, we must get busy
+with the cleaning. I wish we might have done it
+in the forenoon, but I am afraid it is too late.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, mum, it&rsquo;s too late!&rdquo; and Katy indulged
+in such a hearty giggle that her mistress began
+to think perhaps she was feeble-minded as well
+as inefficient.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is the table in the dining room cleared off,
+Katy, so you can set it for luncheon?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, mum, it is not!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Katy! What have you been doing all
+morning?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, mum, I scroobed my kitchen, and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And what?&rdquo; demanded Molly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I did a little head work in the liberry,
+that is, I&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Katy, did you clean the living room, clean
+it well?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, mum, yez can wait and see if it schoots
+yez,&rdquo; and Katy beat a hasty retreat to warn the
+cleaners that the mistress was about to descend.</p>
+
+<p>The room presented a very different appearance
+to what it had before the girls rolled up
+their sleeves. The slanting afternoon sun would
+seek out no dusty corners now; everything was
+spick and span. The books no longer had to
+be beaten and blown before you dared open them,
+and they stood in neat and orderly rows; the
+walls held no decorations in the shape of Irishman&rsquo;s
+curtains now; the picture glass shone, as
+did the window panes; the rugs were out in the
+back yard sunning after a vigorous beating and
+brushing from Thelma, whom Billie called &ldquo;the
+powerful Katrinka.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The floor, being the one part of the room that
+Katy had put some licks on, did not need anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
+more serious than a dusting after everything
+else was done.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Katy, you might bring in the rugs now as
+we have done everything else,&rdquo; suggested Billie.
+Katy went out into the back yard and bundled
+up the rugs. Molly, seeing her from an upper
+window, smiled her approval.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe she is going to do very well,&rdquo; she
+said to herself. &ldquo;She seems to be trying, and
+she is so fond of Mildred.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come on, girls, we must hurry and get off!
+Molly will be down stairs any minute now and
+she must not see us,&rdquo; and Thelma unwound the
+towel from her head and took off her apron.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, surely the white-armed Gudrun is not
+going across the campus with a black face,&rdquo; objected
+Billie. &ldquo;Why, both of you look like negro
+minstrels&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you!&rdquo; interrupted Jo. &ldquo;You should see
+yourself before you talk about kettles. You&rsquo;d
+have not a leg to stand on and not a handle to
+your name. I told you to tie up your head. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
+believe nothing short of a shampoo and a Turkish
+bath will get the grime off you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s hide behind the sofa and after Molly
+goes on the porch with the baby, we can sneak up
+to the bath room,&rdquo; suggested Thelma. The girls
+then crouched on the floor behind a sofa that
+stood near the poet&rsquo;s corner.</p>
+
+<p>In a minute Molly came down the stairs, little
+Mildred in her arms and on her face a contented
+and rested expression. She stood in the doorway
+of the living room and exclaimed with delight
+over its polished cleanliness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Katy, how splendid it is! Did you do
+it all by yourself and in such a short time? I
+don&rsquo;t see how you managed it. Why, you have
+even dusted the books. That is almost a day&rsquo;s
+work in itself. I was dreading it so,&mdash;it is such
+a back breaking job.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jo rubbed her aching back, with a grim smile,
+and nudged Billie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you have kept yourself so clean, too!&rdquo;
+Molly began to feel that she had the prize servant
+of the east: one who could clean such an Augean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
+Stable as that room had looked, dust all the books,
+wash the windows and wipe down walls, beat
+rugs, polish picture glass, etc., etc., and still be
+neat and tidy. &ldquo;Why, I would have been black
+all over if I had done such a great work.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Katy stood by, quite delighted with the undeserved
+praise. The young ladies had told her
+not to tell and far be it from her to refuse to accept
+the unaccustomed praise from any one. She
+had never been very apt in any work she had
+undertaken and no one had ever taken any great
+pains to teach her, and now if this pretty lady
+wanted to praise her, why she was more than willing.
+She felt in her pocket for her fifty cent
+piece, that still seemed a great joke to her. The
+sweet taste of the praise did one great thing in
+her kindly Irish soul: it was so pleasant, she determined
+to have more of it, and through her
+slow intelligence there filtered the fact that to get
+more praise, she must deserve more praise, and
+to deserve it she must work for it. She beat a
+hasty retreat to the dining room and actually
+cleared off the table, where the master had eaten<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
+his solitary breakfast, in a full run. She broke
+no dishes that morning, either, which was a great
+step forward.</p>
+
+<p>Molly could not tear herself away from the
+wonder room. She moved around, busying herself
+changing ornaments a bit and placing chairs
+at a slightly different angle, doing those little
+things that make a room partake of a certain
+personality.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here, baby, lie on the sofa, honey. Muddy
+is going to give you a little ride. Do you know,
+darling, that Katy knows how to put things in
+place just like a lady? She must have an artistic
+soul. Look how she has arranged the
+mantel-piece! Servants usually make things look
+so stiff. Actually there is nothing for me to
+do in the room, she has done it so beautifully.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Billy here dug an elbow into Jo&rsquo;s lame back
+that almost made her squeal, but she held on to
+her emotions and in turn gave her chum a fourth
+degree pinch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now, Muddy is going to ride her baby&mdash;this
+sofa must go closer to the wall,&rdquo; and Molly put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
+Mildred on the sofa and gave it a vigorous push.
+The law of impenetrability, that two things cannot
+be in the same place at the same time, prevented
+the baby from having much of a ride.
+Molly gave a harder push. &ldquo;I must be very feeble
+if I can&rsquo;t budge this sofa.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then came a smothered groan from the huddled
+girls, and <a href="#frontispiece">one by one they emerged from
+their corner</a>, clutching their bundles of dust rags
+and aprons and exposing to Molly&rsquo;s amazed eyes
+three of the very blackest, dirtiest faces that ever
+Wellington had boasted in her senior class.</p>
+
+<p>They sat on the floor and laughed and giggled,
+and Molly sat down beside them and would
+have felt like a college girl again herself if it
+had not been for little Mildred, who took all the
+laughter as an entertainment, got up for her
+express amusement, and gurgled accordingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now you must all stay to luncheon!&rdquo; cried
+the hospitable Molly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, indeed we mustn&rsquo;t,&rdquo; said Billie, who never
+could quite get used to Molly&rsquo;s wholesale hospitality,
+having been brought up in the lap of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
+luxury but with no privileges of inviting persons
+off hand to meals.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But you must. I won&rsquo;t do a thing for you
+but just put on more plates. I was going to
+have the very simplest meal and I&rsquo;ll still have
+it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The girls stayed, after giving themselves a
+vigorous scrubbing, and Molly&rsquo;s luncheon was
+ready when Professor Green arrived. The cold
+leg of lamb played a noble part at the impromptu
+party, flanked by a lettuce salad that Billie insisted
+upon dressing, reminding Molly more than
+ever of her darling Judy. A barrel of preserves
+had just arrived, some that Molly and Kizzie
+had put up during the summer. On opening it,
+a jar of blackberry jam, being on top, was chosen
+to grace the occasion. Molly made some of the
+tiny biscuit that her husband loved and that
+seemed such a joke to Katy. When she came in
+bearing a plate of hot ones, she spread her mouth
+in a grin so broad that Professor Green declared
+she could easily have disposed of six at one
+mouthful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I always call them Gulliver biscuit,&rdquo; he said,
+helping himself to three at a time, &ldquo;because in
+the old Gulliver&rsquo;s Travels I used to read when
+I was a kid there was a picture of Gulliver being
+fed by the Lilliputians. He was represented
+by a great head, and the Lilliputians were climbing
+up his face by ladders and pouring down his
+throat barrels of little biscuit that were just about
+the size of these.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They had a merry time at that meal. Molly
+told her husband why his prize pupils had cut
+his lectures and all others that morning, and how
+she had almost passed a steam roller over them
+in form of the library sofa.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We were terribly afraid we would offend
+her,&rdquo; explained Thelma, &ldquo;but she was dear to
+us.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Offend me! Why, I can&rsquo;t think of anything
+in all my life that has ever happened to me that
+has touched me more. I don&rsquo;t see how you ever
+thought of doing anything so nice.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Twas Billie,&rdquo; from Thelma.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thelma and Jo did all the dirty work,&rdquo; declared
+Billie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dirty work, indeed! You looked as though
+you had used yourself to wipe down the walls
+with,&rdquo; laughed Jo.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, anyhow, when that snippy Miss Fern
+comes again, giving her perfunctory pokes at the
+baby and looking at the cobwebs until nobody
+can help seeing them, I bet she won&rsquo;t find anything
+to turn up her nose at. I&rsquo;d like to use her
+to clean the walls with. If there is anything I
+hate it is any one who is the pink of perfection
+in her own eyes. We were having such a cozy
+time until she lit on us with her dove-colored effects.
+Who cared whether there were cobwebs
+or not?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did Miss Fern speak of the cobwebs?&rdquo;
+asked Edwin, while the others sat around in
+frozen horror, remembering that she was his
+cousin and that he was evidently very fond of
+her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, no, she didn&rsquo;t open her lips; she just
+pursed them up and stared at the corner. Of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
+course, she had already given her dig about
+Molly&rsquo;s surely not having time to write and attend
+to her house, too; and then when she fixed
+her eyes on that Irishman&rsquo;s curtain we all knew
+what she was thinking, and that she wanted us
+to know it, just as well as though she had spoken
+it and then written it and then had it put on the
+minutes.&hellip; What&rsquo;s the matter?&hellip; Oh,
+Heavens! What have I done?&hellip; Oh, Professor
+Green! She is your cousin! Please, please
+forgive me,&rdquo; and Billie clasped her hands in
+entreaty.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, don&rsquo;t mind me,&rdquo; said the professor with
+a twinkle. &ldquo;Go as far as you like. If the ladies
+have such open minds that he who runs may
+read, and they think disagreeable things about
+my wife, why, they deserve to be used for house
+cleaning purposes, have the floor wiped up with
+them and what not.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The luncheon broke up in a laugh and evidently
+there were no hard feelings on the part
+of the host for the criticism of Miss Fern that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
+had so ingenuously fallen from the lips of the
+irrepressible Billie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Billie! What a break!&rdquo; screamed Jo, when
+they got outside after Molly had given them all
+an extra hug for the undying proof of friendship
+they had given her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Break, indeed! I never forgot for an instant
+that Epi Anti was a near cousin to that maidenhair
+fern. I just thought I&rsquo;d let him know how
+she had acted and how uncomfortable she had
+made our Molly feel. I knew Molly would never
+let him know, and I could do it and make out it
+was a break.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, if you aren&rsquo;t like Bret Harte&rsquo;s heathen
+Chinee, I never saw one,&rdquo; laughed Thelma.</p>
+
+<div class="centered"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0b">&ldquo;&lsquo;Which I wish to remark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my language is plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That for ways that are dark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And for tricks that are vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heathen Chinee is peculiar.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div></div></div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All the same, I bet old Epi Anti doesn&rsquo;t tell
+Molly any more what a sweet thing Alice Fern
+is.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How do you know he did?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Insight into human nature,&rdquo; and Billie made
+a saucy moue.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gee, my back aches!&rdquo; said Jo. &ldquo;I think I&rsquo;ll
+do housework often. It certainly does reach
+muscles we don&rsquo;t know about. But didn&rsquo;t it pay
+just to see dear old Molly&rsquo;s face when we rolled
+out from behind the sofa?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And all of them agreed it had.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Edwin,&rdquo; said Molly, after the girls had gone,
+&ldquo;I think I&rsquo;ll send for Kizzie to come help me. I
+may put her in the kitchen and take Katy for a
+nurse.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good! I am certainly glad you have come
+to that decision. What changed you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, it seems to me that when it comes
+to the pass that my college girls feel so sorry
+for me they cut such lectures as yours to
+give the whole morning to cleaning up for
+me I must do something, and the only thing
+I can think of doing is to send for Kizzie.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can you mix the black and white without coming
+to grief?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Remember, Katy is more green than white,
+and she is so good-natured, she could get along
+with anything.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t tell you how relieved I am, honey. I
+wanted you to do what pleased you, but I could
+not see how I was coming in on this. I felt
+very lonesome, and while I wasn&rsquo;t jealous of the
+baby, I was certainly envious of her. If Kizzie
+comes, you can be with me more and nurse me
+some.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, dearie, I missed it, too, but somehow I
+couldn&rsquo;t get through. If Katy had been more
+competent&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But she wasn&rsquo;t and isn&rsquo;t.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, she certainly isn&rsquo;t, but she adores Mildred
+already and Mildred actually cries for her. I
+believe she would make a fine nurse. If only she
+doesn&rsquo;t feel called upon to scrub the baby.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Edwin laughed and, settling himself for a
+pleasant smoke, opened the morning paper, which
+neither he nor Molly had found time to read.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, what a shame!&rdquo; he exclaimed. &ldquo;The Germans
+dropping bombs on Paris! Infamous!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Paris! How can they? Oh, Edwin, Judy and
+Kent both there!&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.<br />
+
+<small>CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>When the teller of a tale has to fly from one
+side of the ocean to the other in the twinkling
+of an eye, as it were, at any rate between chapters,
+and the persons in the tale have no communication
+with one another except by letters
+that are more than likely to be tampered with
+on the high seas, it is a great comfort to find
+that all the characters have at last arrived at the
+same date. On that morning after the dropping
+of bombs when Judy, dressed in her sad mourning
+garb, was selling spinach and tarts to the
+hungry occupants of the Montparnasse quarter,
+Molly, allowing for the difference in time, was
+oversleeping herself after a wakeful night and
+the college girls were quietly cleaning her living
+room. Kent and Jim Castleman were stretching
+themselves luxuriously in the not too comfortable
+beds of the <cite>Haute Loire</cite> preparatory to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
+making themselves presentable, first to find Judy,
+and then to find the general who, no doubt, would
+be glad to have the Kentucky giant enlist in the
+ranks, even though his letter of introduction and
+credentials had gone to the bottom with the
+<cite>Hirondelle de Mer</cite>. Jim Castleman&rsquo;s appearance
+was certainly credential enough that he would
+make a good fighter.</p>
+
+<p>A bath and a shave did much towards making
+our young men presentable. Kent with a
+needle and thread, borrowed from the chambermaid,
+darned the knees of his trousers so that
+they did very well just so long as he did not try
+to sit down; then the strain would have been too
+much. Jim&rsquo;s were hopelessly short.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing but a flounce would save me, so I&rsquo;ll
+have to go around at high water mark; but I&rsquo;ll
+soon be in a uniform, I hope.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They had breakfast in a little café where Kent
+had often gone while he was a student at the
+Beaux Arts, and there Jim Castleman astonished
+the madame by ordering four eggs. She
+couldn&rsquo;t believe it possible that any one could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
+eat that much <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">déjeuner</i> and so cooked his eggs
+four minutes. His French was quite sketchy but
+he plunged manfully in with what he had and
+finally came out with breakfast enough to last
+until luncheon. Kent was willing to do the talking
+for him but he would none of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me do it myself! I&rsquo;ll learn how to get
+something to eat if I starve in the attempt.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And now for Judy! Kent could hardly wait
+for his famished friend to eat his two orders of
+rolls and coffee and his four eggs, but at last
+he was through.</p>
+
+<p>First to the bank! No, they did not know
+where Mlle. Kean was. She had been in once
+to get money but they were sorry they could not
+honour her letter of credit. She had left no
+address.</p>
+
+<p>Then to the American Club! Judy had been
+in the day before for mail, and had had quite a
+budget. She had left no address, but came for
+letters always when the American mail was reported
+in.</p>
+
+<p>Where could she be?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Next, to his cousin, the Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè, on
+the Faubourg!</p>
+
+<p>The venerable porter, at the porte-cochère, who
+came in answer to the vigorous ring that the
+now very uneasy Kent gave the bell, said that
+none of the family was within and they had
+no visitor. Madame the Marquise had gone to
+the front only the day before, but was coming
+home soon to open a hospital in her own home.
+Even then the workmen were busy carrying out
+her orders, packing away books, pictures, ornaments,
+rugs and what not so that the house would
+be the more suitable to care for the wounded.
+The Marquis and Philippe were both with their
+regiments. The old porter was sad and miserable.
+Jules, the butler, was gone; also Gaston,
+the chef whose sauces were beyond compare.
+Madame had taken great hampers of food with
+her, even going to Montparnasse for tarts from
+Tricots&rsquo;.</p>
+
+<p>Kent turned sadly away. Judy was somewhere,
+but where? Her letter to Molly telling
+of her being in the Bents&rsquo; studio had come after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
+Kent left Kentucky and he had no way of knowing
+that she was there. Polly Perkins and his
+wife, he knew were in the thick of the battle from
+the first letter he had seen from Judy. Where
+was Pierce Kinsella? He had not heard from his
+studio mate and friend but he rather thought
+there was little chance of finding him. At any
+rate, he determined to go to the Rue Brea and
+see if the concierge there knew anything of the
+lost damsel.</p>
+
+<p>They found a crowd at the entrance to the
+court on which the studios fronted. The concierge
+in the midst of them was waving her arms
+and talking excitedly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and the first I heard was a click! click!
+click! and that, it seems, was the terrible thing
+flying over us and then an explosion that deafened
+me. They say it was meant for the Luxembourg
+and they missed their mark. That I know
+nothing about&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it? Tell me quick!&rdquo; demanded Kent,
+elbowing his way through the crowd with the
+help of Jim, that renowned center rush.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah, Monsieur Brune!&rdquo; she exclaimed, grasping
+his hand. &ldquo;Did you know that a dirty Prussian
+had sent a bomb right down through the
+skylight of the good Bents&rsquo; and now all their
+things are wrecked?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Bents&rsquo;!&rdquo; gasped Kent. &ldquo;Was any one
+hurt?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And that we can&rsquo;t say. The young lady has
+not been sleeping there lately but yesterday she
+came and got the key and did not return it, so I
+thought she must have slept there last night!
+This morning we can find no trace of her. The
+bomb did much damage, but surely it could not
+have destroyed her completely.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Destroyed her! What young lady?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Mademoiselle Kean, of course.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kent was glad of the strong arm of Jim Castleman.
+He certainly needed a support but only for
+a moment. He pushed through the crowd and
+made his way to the shattered wall of the studio.
+The bomb had not done so much damage as might
+have been expected. The front wall was fallen
+and the skylight was broken all over the floor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+The chairs and easels were piled up like jackstraws
+at the beginning of a game. The bedrooms
+were uninjured but the balcony where
+Judy and Molly had slept that happy winter in
+Paris had fallen.</p>
+
+<p>Would Judy have slept up on the roost just
+for auld lang syne or would she have occupied
+a more comfortable bedroom? If she had been
+blown into such small bits that there was nothing
+to tell the tale, why should these other things
+have escaped? There were the blue tea cups in
+the china closet uninjured, although most of them
+were turned over, showing that the shock had
+reached them, too. What was that blue thing
+lying on the divan in the corner under untold
+débris?</p>
+
+<p>Kent pulled off the timbers and broken glass
+and unearthed Judy&rsquo;s blue serge dress, which was
+waiting to be dyed a dismal black. He clasped
+it in his arms in an agony of apprehension. Letters
+fell out of the pocket. He recognized his
+mother&rsquo;s handwriting, also Molly&rsquo;s. So, Judy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
+had heard from Kentucky! He stuffed them back
+in the jacket.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jim, I simply don&rsquo;t believe she was here. I
+couldn&rsquo;t have slept all night like such a lummux
+if she&mdash;if she&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, old fellow! I know! I don&rsquo;t believe she
+was here, either.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I just know I would have had some premonition
+of it! I would have been conscious of it if
+anything had been happening to Judy,&rdquo; which
+showed that Kent Brown was his mother&rsquo;s own
+son. He was not going to mourn the loss of a
+loved one until he was sure the loved one was
+gone, and he had her own unfailing faith that
+something could not have happened to one he
+cared for without his being aware of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure you would!&rdquo; declared Jim, not at all sure
+but relieved that his friend was taking that view
+of the matter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know something that will be a positive proof
+whether she was here or not last night.&rdquo; Kent
+walked firmly to the bath room, which was behind
+the bed rooms and out of the path of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
+bomb. He threw open the door and looked
+eagerly on the little glass shelf for a tooth brush.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not a sign of one. I know and you know that
+if Judy had been here last night her tooth brush
+would have been here, too. I am sure now!
+Come on, and let&rsquo;s look somewhere else.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kent went out with Judy&rsquo;s serge dress over
+his arm. The concierge looked sadly after him:
+&ldquo;Her dress is all he has to cherish now. The poor
+young man! I used to see he was in love with
+her when Mrs. Brune was in the Bents&rsquo; studio
+and her son occupied the one to the right with
+Mr. Kinsella. Oh, la la! <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Mais la vie est amer!&rdquo;</i></p>
+
+<p>The crowd dispersed, since there was nothing
+more to see and the hour for <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">déjeuner a la
+fourchette</i> was approaching. The concierge went
+off to visit her daughter who was ill. The studios
+were all empty now and her duties were light.
+Her husband was to see that no one entered the
+court to carry off the Bents&rsquo; things, which were
+exposed pitifully to the gaze of the public until
+the authorities could do something. He, good
+man, waited a little while and then made his way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
+to a neighbouring <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">brasserie</i> to get his tumbler of
+absinthe, and one tumbler led to another and
+forgetfulness followed soon, and the Bents&rsquo; studio
+properties were but dreams to his befuddled
+brain.</p>
+
+<p>Judy had spent a busy morning. Marie had
+gone to carry tarts to &ldquo;the regiment&rdquo; and all of
+the waiting in the shop fell on her. She did it
+gladly, thankful that she was so busy she could
+not think. She measured soup and weighed spinach
+and potato salad and wrapped up tarts until
+her back ached. Finally Mère Tricot came
+in from the baking of more tarts.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My child, go out for a while. You need the
+air. I am here now to feed these gourmands.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All right, Mother! I want to get my dress
+at the studio. Marie says she will dye it for
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Certainly! Certainly! We can save many a
+sou by doing it ourselves. Go, child!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy put on her little mourning bonnet and
+sadly found her way to the Rue Brea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wonder where the bomb hit last night. Père
+Tricot said near the Luxembourg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>What was her amazement to find the poor
+studio in ruins. No concierge to tell her a thing
+about it, for her lodge was locked tight and no
+one near. Judy picked her way sadly over the
+fallen front wall.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get my dress, anyhow.&rdquo; But although she
+was sure it had been on the divan in the studio,
+no dress was to be found.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;ll have to have something to wear besides
+this thin waist. I am cold now, and what
+will I do when winter, real winter comes? I
+shall have to send to Giverny for my trunk, and
+no telling what it will cost to get it here. Oh,
+oh, how am I to go on? I wish to God I had
+been sleeping on that balcony when the bomb
+struck. Then I would have been at peace.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy gave herself up to the despair that was
+in her heart. She made a thorough search for
+the suit through the poor wrecked apartment but
+no sign of it could she see. She went sadly back
+to the delicatessen shop and stepped behind the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
+counter, her hat still on, to assist the good Mother
+Tricot, who was being besieged with customers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take off your hat, child. Here is a fresh cap
+of Marie&rsquo;s and an apron. Did you get your
+dress?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy told her kind friend of the bomb-wrecked
+studio and her lost suit.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, the vandals! The wretches! There must
+be a Prussian in our midst who would be so low
+as to steal your suit. No Frenchman would have
+done it. Before the war,&mdash;yes, but now there is
+not one who would do such a dastardly trick.
+We are all of one family now, high and low, rich
+and poor,&mdash;and we do not prey on one another.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, it makes very little difference,&rdquo; said
+Judy resignedly. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll send for my trunk. I
+have other suits in it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Other suits! Oh, what riches!&rdquo; but then the
+old woman considered that the friend of the
+Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè perhaps had many other suits.</p>
+
+<p>Judy donned the cap and apron and went on
+with the shop keeping. No one could have told
+her from a poor little bereaved French girl. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+cap was becoming, as was also the organdy collar.
+Her face was pale and her eyes full of unshed
+tears, but the sorrow had given to Judy&rsquo;s
+face something that her enemies might have said
+it had lacked: a softness and depth of feeling.
+Her friends knew that her heart was warm and
+true and that the feeling was there, but her life
+had been care free with no troubles except the
+scrapes that she had been as clever getting out
+of as she had been adroit getting in. She had
+many times considered herself miserable before
+but now she realized that all other troubles had
+been nothing&mdash;this was something she had had
+no conception of&mdash;this tightening of the heart
+strings, this hopeless feeling of the bottom having
+dropped out of the universe.</p>
+
+<p>She felt absolutely friendless, except for her
+dear Tricots. The Browns could never see her
+again. They must blame her, as it was all her
+fault that Kent had come for her. If she had
+not been so full of her own conceit, she would
+certainly have sailed for America when all the
+others did at the breaking out of the war. Her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
+mother and father seemed as remote as though
+they were on another planet. The war might
+last for years and there seemed no chance of
+their leaving Berlin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll just stay on here and earn my board and
+keep,&rdquo; she sighed. &ldquo;The Tricots find me useful
+and they want me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Kent and Jim Castleman went
+and sat down in the Garden of the Luxembourg
+to smoke and talk it over, Kent still fondly clasping
+the serge dress.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll find her all right before night,&rdquo; declared
+Kent. &ldquo;She&rsquo;ll be sure to go to the Bents&rsquo; studio
+sometime to-day. I&rsquo;ll write a note and leave it
+with the concierge. I&rsquo;ll also leave a note at the
+American Club. She must go there twice a
+week at least. I&rsquo;d like to know where the poor
+little thing is,&rdquo; and Kent heaved a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I bet she is all right, wherever she is,&rdquo; comforted
+Jim. &ldquo;Say, Brown, I don&rsquo;t like to mention
+it, but I am starved to death.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not mention it! Why not?&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you see when a pal is in trouble it seems
+so low to go get hungry.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I&rsquo;m not in trouble. Now if I thought
+that Judy had been in that place last night there
+would be something to be troubled about, but as
+it is, I just can&rsquo;t find her for a few hours, or
+maybe minutes. Where shall we eat?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s up to you. I&rsquo;m getting mighty low in
+funds, so let&rsquo;s do it cheap but do it a plenty,&rdquo;
+and Jim looked rather ruefully at his few remaining
+francs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am still in funds but I shall have to go it
+mighty easy, too, to get Judy and me home. I
+tell you what we might do. Let&rsquo;s go to a shop
+where they have ready cooked food and bring
+it out here and eat it. They say you can live on
+half what it costs to eat in a restaurant. When
+I was studying over here I knew lots of fellows
+who lived that way. Of course, they had studios
+where they could take the stuff and eat it, but
+the Luxembourg Garden is good enough. I
+know a place where the Perkinses used to deal.
+They are the funny lot I told you about, the long-haired<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
+man and the short-haired woman. He
+is driving an ambulance now and goodness knows
+where she is.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, let&rsquo;s go to it. I am so hungry I can
+hardly waddle. These Continental breakfasts
+with nothing but bread and coffee don&rsquo;t fill me up
+half way.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kent smiled, remembering the two full orders
+and the four eggs his friend had tucked away, but
+he said nothing. Having a good appetite of his
+own, he had naught but sympathy for his famished
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>They left the garden and made for the shop
+where Jo and Polly Perkins had bought their
+ready cooked provisions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These people make some little pies that are
+mighty good, too. We might get half a dozen or
+so of them as a top off,&rdquo; suggested Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Fine! I&rsquo;ve got a mouth for pie, all right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy had gone to the kitchen for a moment
+to bring to the fore the smoked tongue that Père
+Tricot had been slicing in those paper-thin slices
+that he alone knew how to accomplish. She bore
+aloft a great platter of the viand, the even slices<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
+arranged like a wreath of autumn leaves. While
+she was still in the living room behind the shop,
+two strangers entered. Their backs being to
+the light, Judy only saw their silhouettes as they
+bent over the show cases eagerly discussing what
+selection of meats and vegetables they should
+make, while Mère Tricot, accustomed to slim-pocketed
+customers, patiently waited. Suddenly
+she leaned over the counter and touched something
+which one of the young men had thrown
+over his arm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is this?&rdquo; she demanded with the manner
+she could so well assume, that of a woman of
+the Commune who meant to right her wrongs.</p>
+
+<p>The purchaser of sauce and potato salad, the
+two cheapest and most filling of the wares, held
+up rather sheepishly a blue serge suit.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle! Come quick!
+It is your suit&mdash;and no Frenchman, as I said, but
+a Prussian, no doubt.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The grenadier slid quickly from behind the
+counter and putting her brawny arm out, held
+the door firmly, so that no escape could be possible.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX.<br />
+
+<small>WASTED DYE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Judy emerged from behind the curtains which
+divided the family living room from the little
+shop, the platter of tongue held high. In her
+cap and apron, she reminded one of a Howard
+Pyle illustration for some holiday number of a
+magazine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gee, what a beaut!&rdquo; exclaimed the taller of
+the two strangers.</p>
+
+<p>The one with the serge suit dropped it and
+made a rush for the girl. He had her in his arms,
+platter of tongue and all, before Mère Tricot
+could rescue it. But that dame managed to extricate
+the big dish before any greater damage
+was done than disarranging the effect of a wreath
+of autumn leaves.</p>
+
+<p>Hearts that were broken may be mended but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
+platters of smoked tongue must not be dropped
+on the floor and smashed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Judy gal, Judy gal! Tell me all about
+it!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kent! Kent! I thought you were drowned
+and have gone into mourning for you,&rdquo; sobbed
+Judy.</p>
+
+<p>As for Jim Castleman, in the most execrable
+and impossible French, he was explaining to good
+Mother Tricot how it all happened, and Father
+Tricot hastened to the shop from his carving to
+find out what it was all about, and then such a
+handshaking and hugging as ensued was never
+seen!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We were all about to sit down to <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">déjeuner a la
+fourchette</i>,&rdquo; said the ever hospitable old man,
+&ldquo;and if the young gentlemen would come with
+us, we should be much honoured.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The grenadier was equally pleased to have them
+and, indeed, Jim Castleman was so hungry by
+that time that he would have eaten cold spinach
+with his fingers.</p>
+
+<p>How that old couple plied the young Americans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
+with their delightful food and how they
+listened to their tale of shipwreck and rescue!
+When Kent told of their fooling the Prussians
+with Tutno, the childish language they had known
+in their youth, the Tricots laughed with such glee
+that a gendarme put his head in the door to
+see what it was all about. When Jim Castleman
+in a speech that sounded more like Tutno than
+Parisian French, informed his hosts that he was
+there to join the army of Joffre, old Mère Tricot
+helped him to two more tarts, although he had
+already eaten enough of them to furnish dessert
+for any ordinary French family of four.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now, Madame,&rdquo; said Kent to his hostess,
+&ldquo;I want you to do another thing for me. You
+have done so many things already that maybe
+I should not ask you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is it, mon brave?&rdquo; and the old woman
+smiled very kindly on the young American, whom
+she had not half an hour before called a Prussian
+and accused of stealing Judy&rsquo;s serge suit.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am to be married very soon and I want you
+to help me out in it.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Married!&rdquo; Judy gasped.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, Miss Judy Kean, I am to be married and
+so are you. What&rsquo;s more, it is to be just as soon
+as the French law will tie the knot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, of all&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, of all the slippery parties, I know you
+are the slipperiest and I have no idea of letting
+you get away. Am I right, Jim?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jim was too busy with a tart to be coherent.
+He nodded his head, however, and when Kent
+put the same question to Mère Tricot in French,
+she upheld him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It would be much more convenable if you
+were married. It is very easy to get married
+in war time. The authorities are not near so
+difficult to approach on the subject. I will see
+what can be done by the magistrate who married
+Jean and Marie, and no doubt if you interview
+your American Ambassador, much can be attended
+to in a short time.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Kent Brown, if you think&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; sputtered
+Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t think a thing, I just know,&rdquo; said Kent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
+very calmly. &ldquo;Put on your hat, honey, and let&rsquo;s
+take a little walk.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, all right&mdash;but&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; Was this the Judy
+Kean who prided herself on so well knowing her
+own mind, calmly consenting to be married
+against her will? Was it against her will? She
+suddenly remembered the communings she had
+had with herself, in which she had cried out to
+Kent: &ldquo;Why, why, did you not make me go with
+you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall have to rip the lining out of my hat
+before I can go out,&rdquo; she said quite meekly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The lining out of your hat?&rdquo; questioned
+Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, you see I went into mourning when&mdash;when&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+and Judy, now that it was all over,
+still could not voice the terrible thing she thought
+had happened to Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Please don&rsquo;t rip it out until I see you in it.
+Not many men live to see how their widows look
+mourning for them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Widows, indeed! Kent Brown, you presume
+too much!&rdquo; exclaimed Judy, but she could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
+help laughing. The hat was very becoming and
+she was not loathe to wear it, just once.</p>
+
+<p>First Mère Tricot must be assisted with the
+dishes, however; but then Judy got ready to go
+walking with Kent.</p>
+
+<p>Père Tricot undertook to be guide to Jim Castleman,
+offering to lead him to the proper place
+to enlist.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll only look into it to-day,&rdquo; said Jim, grasping
+Kent&rsquo;s hand. &ldquo;I shan&rsquo;t join for keeps until
+I have officiated as best man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy, who had gone into Marie&rsquo;s tiny bedroom
+to get into her rescued serge suit, overheard
+this remark and blushed to the roots of her fluffy
+hair. As she put on her white lined hat, she
+peeped again into the mirror: &ldquo;Judy Kean, you
+are much too rosy for a widow,&rdquo; she admonished
+her image.</p>
+
+<p>Mère Tricot saw them off, her good man and
+Jim to the recruiting station, and Kent and Judy
+to the Luxembourg Gardens, a spot hallowed by
+lovers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, well!&rdquo; she said to herself. &ldquo;The good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
+God has brought the poor lamb her lover from
+the grave. I am glad, very glad,&mdash;but it is certainly
+a pity to waste all that good dye the butcher&rsquo;s
+wife saved for us. It is not good when kept
+too long, either. I won&rsquo;t throw it out yet a while,
+though,&mdash;some one will be wanting it, perhaps.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XX.<br />
+
+<small>A WAR BRIDE.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Marrying in Paris was certainly a much easier
+matter than it had been almost two years before
+when Molly Brown and Edwin Green had struggled
+to have the nuptial knot tied. Judy&rsquo;s baptismal
+certificate was not demanded as had been
+Molly&rsquo;s, and the long waiting for research work,
+as Kent expressed it, was not required. Mère
+Tricot undertook to engineer the affair and did
+it with such expedition that it could have been
+accomplished even before Judy got her trunk
+from Giverny.</p>
+
+<p>It was very nice to have one&rsquo;s trunk again, although
+it really was embarrassing to take up so
+much of the Tricots&rsquo; living room with the huge
+American affair.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It seems funny to be married without any
+trousseau,&rdquo; Judy confided to Mère Tricot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No trousseau! And what is in that great
+box if not trousseau?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am sure I don&rsquo;t know. I really haven&rsquo;t
+any clothes to speak of that I can remember,&rdquo; declared
+Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, let us see them!&rdquo; begged Marie and
+her belle mère.</p>
+
+<p>They were dying of curiosity to peep into the
+great box, so Judy unpacked for their benefit,
+and their eyes opened wide at her stack of shirt
+waists and lingerie and her many shoes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Two more suits and a great coat, silk dresses&mdash;at
+least three of them&mdash;and skirts and shirts
+of duck and linen!&rdquo; exclaimed Marie. &ldquo;And
+hats and gloves&mdash;and blouses enough for three!
+Not many war brides will boast such a trousseau.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So our bride began to feel that in comparison
+to the little Marie, she had so much that she
+must not worry about wedding clothes. Instead,
+she divided her store of riches, and making up
+a bundle with a silk dress and some blouses and
+lingerie, a suit and a hat, she hid it in Mère<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
+Tricot&rsquo;s linen press for Marie to find when she,
+Judy, was married and gone over the seas.</p>
+
+<p>She well knew that the French girl would not
+accept the present unless it were given to her in
+a very tactful way, and just to find it in the linen
+press with her name on it and the donor out of
+reach seemed to Judy the most diplomatic method.</p>
+
+<p>Madame le Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè must be looked
+up again. Not only were Kent and Judy very
+fond of her, but they knew they could not show
+their faces to Mrs. Brown unless they had seen
+her dear Sally Bolling. This time they found
+her in the old home in the Faubourg. She had
+been to the front and come back to get her house
+in readiness for the wounded.</p>
+
+<p>Could this be the gay and volatile Marquise,
+this sad looking, middle-aged woman? She had
+grown almost thin during those few months of
+the war. Her beautiful Titian hair was now
+streaked with grey. Judy remembered with a
+choking feeling the first time she had come to
+the Ochtè home on that night soon after Molly
+and her mother had arrived in Paris, when they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
+had dined in the Faubourg and then gone to
+hear <cite>Louise</cite> at the Opera. The Marquise had
+been radiant in black velvet and diamonds, a
+beautiful, gay woman that one could hardly believe
+to be the mother of Philippe. She had
+looked so young, so sparkling. She had said at
+one time that she allowed no grey hairs to stay
+in her head, but had her maid pull them out no
+matter how it hurt. Now it would take all a
+maid&rsquo;s time to keep down the grey hairs in that
+head, and would leave but a scant supply for a
+coiffure could they be extracted.</p>
+
+<p>Kent thought she looked more like his mother
+and loved her for it. Her greeting was very
+warm and her interest great in what Judy and
+Kent had been doing and what they meant to do.
+She received them in the great salon that had
+been converted into a hospital ward. All of
+the Louis Quinze furniture had been stored away
+in an upper chamber and now in its place were
+long rows of cots. The floor was bare of the
+handsome rugs which had been the delight and
+envy of Judy on former visits, and now the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
+parquetted boards were frotted to a point of
+cleanliness that no germ would have dared to
+violate.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I left the pictures for the poor fellows to look
+at&mdash;that is, those who are spared their eyesight,&rdquo;
+she said sadly. &ldquo;My hospital opens to-morrow,
+but I want the privilege of giving a wedding
+breakfast to you young people. I can well manage
+it in the small <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">salle à manger</i>. That is left as
+it was.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you are so kind, but dear old Mère Tricot
+is making a great cake for us and she would be
+sad indeed if she could not give the breakfast,&rdquo;
+explained Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is as it should be,&rdquo; said the Marquise
+kindly, &ldquo;but am I invited?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Invited! Of course you are invited, and the
+Marquis and Philippe if they can be got hold
+of.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They are still in camp and have not gone to
+the fore, so I will manage to reach them. Jean
+is very busy, drilling all the time, but a family
+wedding must be attended. Philippe is learning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
+to fly,&rdquo; and she closed her eyes a moment as
+though to shut out the remembrance of accidents
+that happen all the time to the daring aviators.</p>
+
+<p>Judy wondered if he had come in contact with
+Josephine Perkins, but said nothing as it was
+a deep secret that Jo was passing off as a man
+and a word might give her away.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There are many Americans in the aviation
+camp, and very clever and apt they are, Philippe
+says. I am proud of my countrymen for coming
+forward as they are.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I think it is great for them to. I&mdash;I&mdash;think
+I ought not to marry Kent and go off and
+leave so much work to be done. I ought to help.
+Don&rsquo;t you think so, Cousin Sally?&rdquo; asked
+Judy.</p>
+
+<p>The Marquise smiled at Judy&rsquo;s calling her
+cousin, smiled and liked it. Kent looked uneasy
+and a little sullen. Suppose his Judy should balk
+at the last minute and refuse to leave the stirring
+scenes of war! What then? He had sworn not
+to return to United States without her, and unless
+he did return in a very short time, the very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
+good job he had picked up in New York would
+be filled by some more fortunate and less in love
+young architect.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, my dear, it is not the duty of all American
+girls to stay on this side and nurse any
+more than it is the duty of all American men
+to stay here and fight. Only those must do it who
+are called, as it were, by the spirit. You must
+marry my young cousin and go back to United
+States, and there your duty will begin, not only
+to make him the brave, fine wife that I know it
+is in you to make, but also to remember suffering
+France and Belgium. There is much work
+waiting for you. This war will last for years,
+thanks to that same Belgium who threw herself
+in the breach and stopped the tide of Prussians
+flowing into France. If it had not been for Belgium,
+the war would have been over now&mdash;yes,
+over&mdash;but France would have been under the
+heel of the tyrant and Belgium off of the map.
+Thank God for that brave little country!&rdquo; and
+Judy and Kent bowed their heads as at a benediction.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Kent kissed the Marquise for her sensible advice.
+He very well knew that Judy would have
+been a great acquisition to his cousin&rsquo;s hospital,
+and that workers were not numerous (not so
+plentiful at the beginning of the war as they
+were later). Her advice was certainly unselfish.
+He thanked her, also, for realizing that it was
+not up to all American men to stay and fight.
+He had no desire to fight any one unless his own
+country was at war, and then he felt he would
+do his duty as his ancestors had done before
+him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I tell you what we&rsquo;ll do, you children and I:
+I&rsquo;ll order out the car&mdash;I still keep one and a chauffeur
+so that with it I can bring the wounded back
+to Paris&mdash;and we will go out to the aviation camp
+and see Philippe and ask him to the wedding.
+You would like to see the camp, eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Above all things!&rdquo; exclaimed Kent and Judy
+in chorus.</p>
+
+<p>The broad grassy field, bordered by houses,
+sheds and workshops, presented a busy scene as
+the Ochtè car drove up. Biplanes were parked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
+to one side like so many automobiles at a reception
+in a city, or buggies at a county seat on
+court day in an American town. The field was
+swarming with men, all eagerly watching a tiny
+speck off in the blue sky in the direction of the
+trenches where the French had called a halt on
+the Germans&rsquo; insolent and triumphant march to
+Paris.</p>
+
+<p>No more attempt was made to stop the car of
+Madame the Marquise from coming into the aviation
+camp than there would have been had she
+been Joffre himself.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They know me very well,&rdquo; she said in answer
+to Kent&rsquo;s inquiry as to this phenomenon, as he
+well knew they were very strict about visitors in
+camp. &ldquo;I am ever a welcome guest here, not
+only because they know I love them, but because
+of something I bring.&rdquo; She pointed to a great
+hamper of goodies packed in by the chauffeur.</p>
+
+<p>The car was surrounded by eager and courteous
+young aviators and soldiers, and Kent and
+Judy well knew it was not all for the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gateaux</i>
+that the Marquise was so beloved. Philippe was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
+summoned and clasped in his mother&rsquo;s arms.
+Her heart cried out that every time might be the
+last.</p>
+
+<p>The Marquise was changed but her son even
+more so. His dilettantish manner was gone for
+good, as was also his foppish beard. His face,
+clean shaven except for a small moustache, was
+brown and lean; his mouth had taken on purpose;
+his eyes were no longer merely beautiful
+but now had depth of expression and a look of
+pity, as though he had seen much sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>He was greatly pleased to see his cousin Kent
+and also Miss Kean, who, of course, he thought
+had gone back to America long ago. He remembered
+Judy always as the young lady he came
+so near loving. Indeed, he would have addressed
+her when Molly Brown had refused him, had
+he not been made to understand by his fair cousin
+how important it was to love with one&rsquo;s whole
+soul if married happiness was to be expected.
+He had, after that, gone very slowly in possible
+courtships. Molly&rsquo;s friend, Frances Andrews,
+had almost been his choice, but there was something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
+of fineness lacking in her that deterred him
+in time, and he was in a measure relieved when
+that dashing young woman proceeded to marry
+an impoverished Italian prince. His mother was
+relieved beyond measure at what she could not
+but look on as her Philippe&rsquo;s escape. In fact,
+she had never seen but one girl she thought would
+be just right for her beloved son and that was
+Molly Brown.</p>
+
+<p>Philippe was told of Kent&rsquo;s being shipwrecked
+and of Judy&rsquo;s having taken up her abode with the
+Tricots. This last bit of information amused
+him greatly. Judy told with much sprightliness
+of her serving in the shop and of her learning
+to make tarts. Philippe began to look upon his
+cousin Kent as a very lucky dog. He sighed when
+he promised to come to the wedding breakfast,
+that is, if he could get leave. Why did all of
+the charming American girls pass him by?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">J&rsquo;ai la France et ma mère</i>,&rdquo; he muttered, as
+his arm crept around the waist of that beloved
+mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are they all looking at so intently?&rdquo;
+asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, that is a daring young American aviator
+who has gone to seek some information concerning
+the trenches of our friends the enemy.
+He is a strange, quiet little fellow. No one ever
+gets a word out of him but he has learned to manage
+his machine quicker than any of the
+nouveaux, and now is intrusted to carry out all
+kinds of dangerous orders. He looks like a boy
+sometimes and sometimes when he is tired, like
+a strange little old man. He is not very friendly
+but is quick at repartee and so the fellows let
+him alone. Speaks French like a Parisian. I
+have seen him before somewhere, but can&rsquo;t place
+him. I asked him once and he was quite stiff
+and said I had the advantage of him. Of course
+I didn&rsquo;t like to force myself on him after that,
+but I&rsquo;d really like to be friendly if he would let
+me. See, here he comes! Look!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They watched in silence the aeroplane sinking
+in a lovely spiral glide. As it sank to rest on
+the greensward, many hands were outstretched<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
+to assist the grotesque little figure to alight. Judy
+recognized in an instant the person she had
+thought all the time Philippe was describing. It
+was, of course, Jo Bill Perkins. She was swathed
+in a dark leather coat and breeches, with a strange
+shaped cap coming down over her ears. The
+great goggles she wore could not deceive
+Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is his name?&rdquo; she asked Philippe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Williams is all I know, J. Williams.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I believe I know him. Would you mind taking
+him my card and asking him to come speak to
+me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not a bit, but I don&rsquo;t believe he will come.
+Let him make his report first, and then I will tell
+him you are here. You are very charming and
+fetching, Mademoiselle, but I doubt your being
+able to bring Williams to your feet.&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI.<br />
+
+<small>THE FLIGHT.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>Judy felt that perhaps she was not quite fair
+to Jo to test her by this interview, but she did long
+to speak to her. If Kent and Cousin Sally recognized
+her, she knew full well she could trust them
+to keep silent.</p>
+
+<p>Philippe crossed the field and stopped the daring
+little aviator just after he had made his
+report to the commander.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A young lady is asking for you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A young lady for me? Absurd!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, she has heard of your wonderful feats
+and longs to meet you,&rdquo; teased Philippe; and then
+added: &ldquo;Really, Williams, you are superb.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not at all! Well, I am tired and don&rsquo;t want
+to meet any young ladies.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But this one already knows you,&rdquo; and Philippe
+produced Judy&rsquo;s card.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Miss Julia Kean,&rdquo; Jo read in amazement.
+&ldquo;How did she get out here, anyhow? Where
+is she?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Over here with my mother,&rdquo; and Philippe
+looked with some amusement at the evident blush
+that spread over Jo&rsquo;s freckled cheeks. She still
+had on the grotesque cap and goggles which would
+have made recognition of her difficult. She
+wanted very much to see Judy. She wanted to
+hear something of her Polly, too, and she intended
+to have Judy look him up if possible, and report
+to her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you see her?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sure!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Miss Kean is a charming girl, Williams, isn&rsquo;t
+she?&rdquo; said the quizzing Philippe, looking searchingly
+at his companion as they made their way
+across the field.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You bet!&rdquo; said Jo.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you known her long?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Quite a while,&rdquo; and Jo&rsquo;s cheeks again were
+suffused with a dark flush.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poor little fellow!&rdquo; thought Philippe. &ldquo;I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
+can&rsquo;t bear to tell him she is to be married. He is
+such a dare devil the chances are he will be killed
+before long and he may never have to know that
+his inamorata has chosen a better looking man,
+not a better man&mdash;they don&rsquo;t make them to beat
+little Williams.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As they approached the car, impulsive Judy
+jumped out and ran to meet her friend. Jo ran,
+too, and they embraced with such ardor that
+Philippe stood back amazed. Maybe Kent Brown
+was not to be so envied, after all. If the girl who
+was to marry him in a day was so lavish with
+her embraces for other men, what kind of wife
+would she make? Of course, Williams was a
+rather dried up person, but then a man&rsquo;s a man
+for a&rsquo; that.</p>
+
+<p>Kent, too, was rather astonished when his
+fiancée left him with such precipitation and before
+all the aviation camp hugged and kissed the
+strange bunchy little figure. Ardor for the heroes
+of France was all well enough, but a fellow&rsquo;s
+sweetheart need not be quite so warm in her
+manner of showing her appreciation, especially<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
+when the fellow happens not to be one himself
+in the habit of making daily daring flights to spy
+out the weakness in the trenches of the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>The Marquise laughed as she had not done
+since the first week in August of that terrible
+year. Kent looked at her in astonishment. She
+was not so very much like his mother, after all.
+His mother would not have been so much amused
+over the discomfiture of a young lover.</p>
+
+<p>That matron was saying to herself: &ldquo;How
+stupid men are!&rdquo; She had recognized Jo from
+the beginning. Kent had known in some far
+off corner of his brain that Mrs. Polly Perkins
+was doing something or other about the war,
+but his mind had been so taken up with his own
+affairs and Judy&rsquo;s possible danger that that
+knowledge had stayed in the corner of his brain
+while the more important matter of getting married
+was uppermost. Suddenly the truth flashed
+over him and he was overcome with laughter,
+too.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Caught on, eh?&rdquo; asked his cousin.</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We must keep mum,&rdquo; she admonished.
+&ldquo;There is no reason why a woman should not do
+her part this way if she can. I&rsquo;d fly in a minute
+if that would help any. Of course these stupid
+men would raise a hue and cry if they knew a
+woman was carrying off the honours.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am as quiet as the grave,&rdquo; declared Kent.</p>
+
+<p>Judy came to the car with her friend and with
+the utmost audacity introduced Jo as Mr. Williams.
+The Marquise greeted the supposed young
+man graciously. Kent sprang out and shook
+Jo warmly by the hand, much to the astonishment
+of his cousin Philippe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can&rsquo;t I see you a moment alone?&rdquo; whispered
+Jo in Judy&rsquo;s ear. The Marquise, as though she
+divined what was in the heart of Mrs. Polly
+Perkins, asked her to come sit in the car; and
+then she suggested that Philippe show the camp
+to Kent and on second thought decided to go with
+them. The chauffeur had been sent with the
+hamper to the mess hall, so Judy and Jo had a
+few minutes alone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must find out something about Polly. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
+feel as though I could wait no longer for news
+of him. Can&rsquo;t you help me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, you know I am to be married to-morrow
+and sail for United States, but I am going to
+see that news is got to you somehow. Cousin
+Sally will do it, of course. She is the very
+person.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, but that Philippe must not know. He
+has already been very curious about where he
+has seen me before, and I have had to be insufferably
+rude to him to keep him from prying into
+my past. I have made good as a man, but still
+they would not like it, I know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How on earth did you ever get in? I am dying
+to hear all about it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, naturally the examination for physical
+fitness was worrying me some. I got that little
+dried up art student named Joel Williams, the
+one who was always trying to claim kin with me,
+to take the examination and then let me slip in
+in his place. I bought his ticket to America to
+pay him for his trouble. He was broke, as usual,
+and scared to death when the war started, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
+willing to do anything to get home. It was really
+very simple to manage it. I am the same type,
+in a way, although I hope I am not so dried up
+as my would-be cousin. Same initials, too, which
+made the entering rather more regular.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Jo, what a girl you are!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Shh! Don&rsquo;t call me a girl even to yourself.
+Do you think the Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè recognized
+me?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course she did and Kent, too! Do you
+think they would have left us alone if they had
+not thought you were safe? Kent wouldn&rsquo;t have
+left me with such a bird if he had not known who
+the bird was. He would be afraid I might fly
+away with you. Oh, Jo, I do so want to fly!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, why not?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, could I really?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think so. I have brought in information
+to our commander that is valuable enough for
+me to ask one small favor of him. Come on, let&rsquo;s
+ask!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The two girls were across the field and knocking
+for admittance at the Commander&rsquo;s tent before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
+the Marquise and the two young men had
+begun their tour of inspection.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A favor to ask!&rdquo; exclaimed the grizzled old
+warrior who sat poring over a map where Jo
+had only a few moments before added some
+crosses that meant much to the tactics of the
+French army.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I want to take a friend up in a machine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A friend! I am sorry, my son, but it is hard
+to tell friends in this day of war. I can&rsquo;t let
+you. He might be no friend, after all, to France.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He! It is not a man but an American girl.
+She is just outside your tent,&rdquo; and Jo raised the
+flap and motioned Judy to enter. Judy was introduced.
+The old warrior looked at her searchingly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me, are you related to Robert Kean?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His daughter, sir.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Robert Kean&rsquo;s daughter! Why, my child,
+your father and I have been close friends for
+years. Tell me where he is and what he is doing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Judy told of her father&rsquo;s letter and his being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
+held in Berlin because of the knowledge he
+had of Turkey&rsquo;s topography. She made him
+laugh long and loud when she told of the ridiculous
+limericks he had written on the paper
+boats.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And you, Robert Kean&rsquo;s daughter, want to
+fly, and to fly with our bravest and most daring
+aviator! Well, don&rsquo;t fly off to America with him,&mdash;and
+God bless you, my children,&rdquo; and he gave
+Judy a fatherly embrace and went back to his
+map.</p>
+
+<p>When Kent got back to the car with his cousin,
+there was no Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where can she have gone and where is Williams?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Philippe looked rather mysterious. Young
+girls who rushed up and embraced bird men with
+such ardor should not be allowed too much
+rope.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No doubt she will be back soon. Williams
+is perhaps showing her the camp. Look, there
+goes another machine up! Two in it! By Jove,
+it is Williams! I can tell by his way of starting.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
+He has such a smooth getaway always. Could
+the passenger be Miss Kean?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;More than likely,&rdquo; said Kent composedly.
+&ldquo;She has always been crazy to fly. I reckon
+Williams will take good care of her and not go
+too high or try any stunts.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, certainly not!&rdquo; said Philippe wonderingly.
+Americans were a riddle to him. He
+never quite understood his own mother, who had
+rather a casual idea of proprieties herself at
+times. That good lady, coming up just then,
+expressed no concern over the impropriety of
+Judy&rsquo;s flying with a man when she was to be
+married on the morrow to some one else.</p>
+
+<p>Kent sat in the car with his cousin Sally and
+together they enjoyed Judy&rsquo;s flight. Jo took her
+as close to the fighting line as she dared, but she
+had no idea of endangering the life of her passenger.
+They dipped and curved, for the most
+part confining their maneuvers to the vicinity
+of the camp. Judy never spoke one word, but
+held her breath and wept for sheer joy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To be flying! To be flying! Oh, Judy Kean,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
+you lucky dog!&rdquo; she said to herself. &ldquo;All my life
+I&rsquo;ve been dreaming I could fly and now I am
+doing it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dizzy?&rdquo; asked Jo.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, but happy enough to die,&rdquo; gasped Judy.
+&ldquo;If I wasn&rsquo;t going to be married, I&rsquo;d be a bird
+man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When the landing was finally made and Judy
+stepped out, the world seemed very stale, flat and
+unprofitable. She was glad Kent was there waiting
+for her. If she could not be a bird man,
+she could at least be a very happy war bride.
+The great leather coat she had worn in her
+flight was very ugly and unbecoming, and she
+was thankful for one thing that she did not have
+to wear such frightful looking clothes all the
+time.</p>
+
+<p>On the way back to Paris she asked cousin
+Sally how she had recognized Jo Williams so
+readily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By her feet, of course! Why, no man on
+earth ever had such eternally feminine feet.&rdquo;
+That good lady promised to find out immediately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>
+something about Polly and let his spunky wife
+know where and how he was. &ldquo;She will have
+the Cross of Honour before she gets through,
+Philippe says.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t feel as though it were your duty
+to tell she is a woman, do you?&rdquo; asked Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Duty to tell! Heavens, child! I feel it is
+my duty to help France in every way I can, and
+surely to get that girl out of the aviation corps
+would be a hindrance to <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la Patrie</i>. I doubt even
+Philippe&rsquo;s thinking it his duty to tell, and,&rdquo; with
+a twinkle in her eye that the horrors of war could
+not altogether dim, &ldquo;Philippe has a very stern
+idea of his duty. He felt maybe it was his duty
+to get in a flying machine and go after you and
+Mr. Williams so he could chaperone you. He
+felt that the dignity of the family was at stake,&mdash;so
+soon to be the bride of his cousin and flying
+with another man! Terrible!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, of course! I never thought of how it
+looked. There I went and hugged and kissed
+Jo right before everybody. I bet you a sou this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
+minute Philippe and all the rest of them are feeling
+sorry for you, Kent.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Well, they needn&rsquo;t be,&rdquo; declared that young
+man as he found Judy&rsquo;s hand under the robe.
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m satisfied&mdash;but I did feel a little funny for
+half a minute when you went and kissed Jo so
+warmly. It took me a moment longer to recognize
+her. Why didn&rsquo;t you put me on?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Put you on? How could I, with all the people
+around?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You promised me once you wouldn&rsquo;t fly with
+anybody until you could fly with me. Don&rsquo;t you
+remember?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course I did, you goose! But I didn&rsquo;t say
+anybody&mdash;I said any man; so you see I didn&rsquo;t
+break my promise when I flew with Mrs. Polly
+Perkins!&rdquo;</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXII.<br />
+
+<small>THE WEDDING BREAKFAST.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>When the Marquise d&rsquo;Ochtè said she would
+do something, she always did it and did it as well
+as it could be done. When she undertook to find
+out where and how Polly Perkins was for the
+benefit of his spunky wife, she did it and did it
+immediately. And not only did she find him,
+but she got a little respite from duty for him and
+bore him back to Paris where she had already
+spirited Jo to be present at the wedding breakfast.
+She had asked a holiday for Jo, too, although
+the grizzled commander was loathe to
+let his best aviator off even for a day.</p>
+
+<p>Jo was taken to the converted d&rsquo;Ochtè mansion
+and there dressed like a nice, feminine little
+woman, her hair curled by madame&rsquo;s maid. A
+tight velvet toque and a dotted veil completed
+the transformation and the commander himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>
+would not have recognized his one time prize
+aviator. All of this masquerade was for the sole
+purpose of fooling Philippe, who, also, was to
+be one of the guests at the Tricots&rsquo;.</p>
+
+<p>Polly was so happy to see his Jo again that it
+was pathetic to behold, and her pride in him and
+his bravery was beautiful. Polly was vastly improved.
+Kent, who had always liked the little
+man and had insisted that there was much more
+to him than the other members of the colony
+could see, was delighted to have his opinion of
+his friend verified.</p>
+
+<p>The ceremony was a very simple one, performed,
+not by the magistrate as Mère Tricot
+had suggested, but at the Protestant Episcopal
+Church. Polly Perkins gave away the bride, and
+Jo looked as though she would burst with pride
+at this honour done her husband. Jim Castleman
+was best man, and Cousin Sally fell in love
+with him on the spot.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He is like the young men of my youth,&rdquo; she
+declared, &ldquo;the young men of Kentucky, I am not
+saying how many years ago.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The little living room at the Tricots&rsquo; soon after
+the ceremony was full to overflowing, but every
+one squeezed in somehow. The old couple were
+very happy in dispensing hospitality. Their Jean
+came home for a few hours and their hearts were
+thankful for this glimpse of their son. Marie
+beamed with joy and the rosy baby delighted them
+all by saying, &ldquo;Pa-pa!&rdquo; the first word it had ever
+uttered.</p>
+
+<p>Philippe, looking so handsome that Judy, too,
+wondered that all the American girls passed him
+by, fraternized with Jean, the peasant&rsquo;s son, with
+that simplicity which characterizes the military
+of France.</p>
+
+<p>The party was very gay, so gay that it seemed
+impossible that the Germans were really not more
+than thirty miles from them. Of course they
+talked politics, men and women. Old Mère Tricot
+had her opinions and expressed them, and
+they listened with respect when she pooh-poohed
+and bah-bahed the notion that the Nations had
+gone to war from altruistic motives.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Belgium might as well die fighting as die not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>
+fighting. The Germans had her any way she
+jumped. France had to fight, too, fight or be
+enslaved. As for Great Britain&mdash;she couldn&rsquo;t
+well stay out of it! When the Germans got
+Antwerp, why, where was England? Let us
+fight, I say&mdash;fight to a finish; but let&rsquo;s be honest
+about it and each country say she is fighting for
+herself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you think United States should come over
+and help?&rdquo; asked Kent, much interested in the
+old woman&rsquo;s wisdom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Not unless she has wrongs of her own to
+right!&rdquo; spoke the grenadier.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But think how France helped us out in &rsquo;76!&rdquo;
+exclaimed Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, and helped herself, no doubt. I am
+not very educated in history, but I&rsquo;ll be bound
+she had a crow of her own to pick with England.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To be sure,&rdquo; laughed Philippe, &ldquo;France did
+want to destroy the naval supremacy of Great
+Britain. Her alliance with Spain meant more
+to France than her alliance with America. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
+was not wholly disinterested when she helped the
+struggling states.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Heavens, Philippe, please don&rsquo;t take from
+me the romantic passion I have always had for
+Lafayette!&rdquo; begged his mother. &ldquo;I used to thrill
+with joy when tales were told of my great grandmother&rsquo;s
+dancing with him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Keep your passion for Lafayette. He was at
+least brave and disinterested, but don&rsquo;t waste
+much feeling on the government that backed him.
+Vergennes, the minister of France at that time,
+prepared a map in which the United States figured
+as the same old colonial strip between the
+Alleghenies and the sea. They had no idea of
+helping United States to become a great nation.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, I remember reading a letter from Jay
+in which he said: &lsquo;This court is interested in
+separating us from Great Britain, but it is not
+their interest that we should become a great and
+formidable people.&rsquo; But I feel deeply grateful
+to France for all she did,&rdquo; said Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Me, too!&rdquo; cried Jim Castleman. &ldquo;And I mean
+to do all I can to pay it back.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ah! My American Lafayette!&rdquo; cried the
+Marquise. &ldquo;A toast, a toast, to my American
+Lafayette!&rdquo; And they stood up and drank a
+toast to the blushing young giant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I didn&rsquo;t dream any one could have such a good
+time at her own wedding,&rdquo; said Judy when the
+last vestige of cake had disappeared. It was a
+wonderful cake with a tiny white sugar bride and
+a chocolate groom perched on top. There had
+been much holding of hands under the table.
+Every other person seemed to be eating with his
+or her left hand, and Cousin Sally complained
+that she had no hand to eat with at all, as Philippe
+held one of her hands and the American Lafayette
+held the other.</p>
+
+<p>The Marquis could not come, much to the regret
+of all the company, for his regiment expected
+to be called to the front any day and no
+leaves could be granted.</p>
+
+<p>Judy put up a brave front when adieux were
+in order, but her heart was very sad. How
+many terrible things might happen to these kind
+friends she was leaving! The Tricots, good souls,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>
+might be bereft at any moment. Dear Cousin
+Sally, with two in the war, might be doubly
+visited by the hand of death. Polly and Jo Perkins
+were to part after this brief time of happiness,
+holding hands under the Tricots&rsquo; hospitable
+board, one to return to his office of caring for
+the wounded, the other to her office of keeping
+the German ambulance drivers busy. The young
+Kentucky giant, Jim Castleman, was to join his
+regiment on the following day. His glee at having
+a chance to swat the Prussians was intense.
+He didn&rsquo;t look like a person who could ever die,
+but one bit of shrapnel might in the twinkling of
+an eye destroy that virile youth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come to see me when you can, my American
+Lafayette,&rdquo; begged the Marquise, &ldquo;and if you get
+so much as a tiny little wound, let me nurse you
+if you can get to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jim had delighted the little party by translating
+into his execrable French football terms to
+describe his idea of how the war should be conducted.
+His left tackle was frankly: &ldquo;<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gauche
+palan</i>,&rdquo; and his centre rush was: &ldquo;<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">cintre jonc</i>.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He and Kent were not very demonstrative in
+their parting, but both of them felt it deeply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wuv e lul lul! Sus o lul o nun gug!&rdquo; called
+Jim, as the cab bearing the bride and groom
+started.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gug o o dud lul u sank kuk!&rdquo; was Kent&rsquo;s feeling
+rejoinder.</p>
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.<br />
+
+<small>THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.</small></h2>
+
+
+<p>No submarine warfare interrupted the peaceful
+passage of our honeymooners. The voyage was
+delightful to both of them after all the trials they
+had been through. Judy was as much at home
+on the water as on land, literally a born sailor, as
+she had been born at sea. Kent loved a ship and
+all the many aspects of the ocean. The lazy days
+on deck, with their chairs drawn as close together
+as chairs could be, their hands clasped
+under the steamer rug, seemed like a beautiful
+dream, only a dream that was going to last for
+a lifetime, not the lazy days on deck but the
+being together and never talking out. Being
+lazy was not the idea of eternal bliss common to
+either of these young persons. Kent felt there
+were worlds to conquer in the architectural universe
+and he meant to do his share towards conquering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>
+them; and with Judy by his side, he
+gloried in the task before him. As for Judy,
+she meant to paint like mad and to work up many
+ideas she had teeming in her head. She was
+thankful for the reels of undeveloped snapshots
+she had in her trunk, as she was going to use
+them as a jog to her memory for the numerous
+illustrations she meant to make in an article she
+was thinking of writing on Paris at the outbreak
+of the war.</p>
+
+<p>Cousin Sally&rsquo;s admonition to work for the Allies
+was not forgotten, either. Judy was planning
+a busy winter for herself in New York just
+as soon as she and Kent could get themselves settled
+in an apartment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must be very inexpensive, too, Kent. We
+must save money.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kent couldn&rsquo;t help laughing at Judy&rsquo;s solemn
+face. What would Judy&rsquo;s friends say at her becoming
+penurious? Judy, the spendthrift!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You see, I&rsquo;ve always cost poor Bobby a lot
+of money; not that he has ever complained, but
+I don&rsquo;t mean to be a burden to you, Kent.&rdquo;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Kent had no answer for such foolishness but
+to squeeze her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I&rsquo;d be perfectly happy if I just knew that
+Bobby and poor little Mumsy were all right.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, they may be on the high seas this minute.
+We will surely hear something of them when
+we get to New York.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p>Sandy Hook was at last sighted and then came
+the slow, majestic steaming into the harbour!
+Liberty still held her torch on high with the gulls
+circling around her. The same little tugs were
+puffing up and down, with the great ferries plying
+back and forth like huge shuttles. New
+York&rsquo;s sky line was as fascinating to Mrs. Kent
+Brown as it had ever been to Judy Kean.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Kent, I love it so! How could I have
+stayed away so long?&rdquo; cried Judy, rapturously
+making sketches in the air.</p>
+
+<p>The pier was filled with an eager crowd, awaiting
+the arrival of the steamer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There won&rsquo;t be any one for us,&rdquo; said Judy
+rather wistfully. &ldquo;Your mother is in Kentucky,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>
+and of course Molly couldn&rsquo;t leave the baby to
+come meet us, and there isn&rsquo;t any one else.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Kent smiled and said nothing. He was almost
+sure he saw the figure of his tall brother-in-law,
+Professor Green, towering above the crowd, but
+he was afraid he might be mistaken and could
+not bear to disappoint Judy.</p>
+
+<p>It was Edwin Green and hanging on one arm
+was Molly (Kent knew her by the blue scarf).
+And who was that on the other arm? Oh, what
+a mother! It was Mrs. Brown, her face uplifted
+and glowing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Judy, look a little to the left of the second
+post! Right in front of us, honey! What do
+you see?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, it&rsquo;s Molly! I can tell her by her blue
+scarf&mdash;and Kent! Kent, there&rsquo;s your mother
+and dear Edwin!&rdquo; Then Judy clutched her young
+husband&rsquo;s arm. &ldquo;Look a little to the right, standing
+by your mother&mdash;there&rsquo;s a big man that looks
+like Bobby&mdash;See, with a little doll baby woman
+in front of him&mdash;he&rsquo;s keeping the crowd off of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
+her&mdash;see! see! It is&mdash;it is Bobby and little
+Mumsy!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Judy, who not much more than two weeks before
+had considered herself the most unfortunate
+and friendless of mortals, now knew that there
+was not such a happy person in all the world.
+How long the vessel took to be made fast to the
+pier! And then such a crowding and pushing!
+Every one on board seemed to have some one on
+the pier he had not seen for centuries and must
+get to immediately.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They can&rsquo;t be as anxious to hug their mothers
+as I am, and I know they haven&rsquo;t any Bobbies,&rdquo;
+she complained. &ldquo;And I am sure they
+have not been shipwrecked like you and given up
+for drowned by their families. They ought to let
+us off first.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Kean was behaving exactly as though he
+were at a football game. He was jumping up
+and down and waving and shouting, and his rooting
+egged Kent to make a rush for the gangway,
+holding Judy like a pigskin; and once on
+the gangplank there was nothing to do but push<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span>
+and be pushed by the crowd until they shot out
+on the pier into the arms of their waiting and
+eager families.</p>
+
+<p>With every one talking at once, it was difficult
+to get any accurate knowledge about one another,
+but when it was all sifted out it developed that
+Mr. and Mrs. Kean had finally been allowed by
+the Imperial Government to leave Berlin, in fact,
+they had been encouraged to go. Mr. Kean was
+looked upon as a dangerous person, a lunatic at
+large, and they did not want the responsibility
+or expense of caring for him. His jokes got
+to be too many and serious, and when he became
+such an adept in evading the spy set to watch him
+that two had to be detailed for that duty, the
+powers that be evidently decided that what knowledge
+he possessed of the topography of Turkey
+did not outweigh in importance the wearing out
+of perfectly good soldier material. He worried
+the spy so that he was nothing more than skin
+and bones, poor fellow!</p>
+
+<p>They had arrived in New York only the day
+before and had immediately got Molly on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
+long distance telephone. Of course, they knew
+nothing of Judy&rsquo;s being married, but unhesitatingly
+approved of the step Kent had taken and
+did not consider him at all high-handed. Mr.
+Kean, being of a most impulsive disposition, could
+understand it in other persons, and little Mrs.
+Kean was so used to her comet-like husband and
+daughter that she was never astonished by anything
+they did.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was not the impulsive one this time, though,
+Bobby,&rdquo; Judy declared when they finally settled
+themselves around the luncheon table at the hotel
+where a second bridal feast had been prepared,
+ordered by the lavish Bobby. &ldquo;It was Kent. I
+had no idea of ever being married&mdash;in fact, it
+seemed to me to be not quite decent to be married
+so quickly when I was in such deep mourning&mdash;The
+wedding was quiet because of the recent bereavement&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In mourning! You, Judy, in mourning for
+whom?&rdquo; and poor little Mrs. Kean gasped, not
+knowing what she was to learn now.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, for Kent himself. Nothing but the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
+bombs dropped in Paris kept me from having my
+best serge suit dyed black. Molly, I always said
+I&rsquo;d make a fetching widow, and I did all right.
+Kent thought I was just lovely in the hat I fixed
+for his mourning.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, Judy! The same old Judy!&rdquo; exclaimed
+Molly fondly.</p>
+
+<p>Molly had thought it would be impossible for
+her to go to New York to meet the incoming
+steamer with its precious cargo, but Edwin had
+declared she should go; so little Mildred was
+taken on the jaunt as well, with the eager Katy
+as nurse. Kizzie was already installed as cook
+and Katy was proving a most careful and reliable
+nurse. Molly was looking and behaving
+more like herself and no longer had to let her
+patient husband go off to his lectures like a
+bachelor with no wife to pour his coffee.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now, you and Kent and Mr. and Mrs.
+Kean must all come to Wellington to visit us,&rdquo;
+announced the hospitable Molly. &ldquo;Mustn&rsquo;t they,
+Edwin?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indeed they must,&rdquo; said Edwin obediently,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>
+but in his heart wondering where Molly would
+put all of them. The old red house on the campus
+was large but had not very many rooms. The
+young professor could never quite get used to the
+Browns and their unbounded hospitality. His
+favorite story was one on his mother-in-law; how,
+when one of her sons brought home the whole
+football team to spend the night, she calmly took
+the top mattresses off all the beds (the beds at
+Chatsworth were fortunately equipped with box
+mattresses and top mattresses) and made up pallets
+on the floor, thereby doubling the sleeping
+capacity of her hospitable mansion.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can&rsquo;t come, Molly,&mdash;mighty sorry,&rdquo; said
+Kent, &ldquo;but my job must be held down now. They
+have kept it open for me long enough.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And I stay with Kent!&rdquo; declared Judy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hurrah, hurrah! Her mother&rsquo;s own daughter!&rdquo;
+cried the delighted Bobby. &ldquo;I was wondering
+what kind of wife my girl would make; now
+I know. I wouldn&rsquo;t take anything for that: &lsquo;I
+stay with Kent.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, I&rsquo;m going to be terribly domestic. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>
+found that out while I was living with the Tricots.
+What&rsquo;s more, I can make tarts&mdash;the best
+ever. I can hardly wait to get a flat and a pastry
+board to make some for Kent.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You might use your drawing board for a
+pastry board,&rdquo; teased her father. &ldquo;I fancy art
+is through with.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Through with, indeed! Why, Bobby, I am
+astonished and ashamed of you! I am going to
+paint all the time that I am not making tarts,
+and what time is left, I am going to knit socks
+and make bandages for the wounded.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And poor me! When do I come in?&rdquo; asked
+Kent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You come in early and behave yourself or I&rsquo;ll
+spend the rest of the time making suffrage
+speeches,&rdquo; laughed the war bride.</p>
+
+<p class="star">*******</p>
+
+<p>And now since we must leave our friends some
+where, what better time and place than at this
+second wedding breakfast, while all of them are
+together and happy? Perhaps we shall meet them
+again when the old red house on the campus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>
+shall be taxed to its utmost in its endeavor to
+behave like Chatsworth. We shall see Judy and
+Kent in their little flat and mayhaps taste one
+of Judy&rsquo;s tarts. We must know more of Molly&rsquo;s
+girls at Wellington and meet dear Nance Oldham
+and little Otoyo Sen again. It is hard to
+part forever with our friends and those who
+know Molly Brown feel that all her friends are
+theirs.</p>
+
+<p>So I hope our readers will be glad to meet
+again &ldquo;Molly Brown&rsquo;s College Friends.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center r4">THE END.</p>
+
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="ads">
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/ad01.png" width="120" height="169" alt="Marjorie Dean College Sophomore" title="Marjorie Dean College Sophomore" />
+</div>
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+<p class="adtitle1">Marjorie Dean<br />
+College<br />
+Series</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">BY PAULINE LESTER.</p>
+
+<p><small>Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series.</small></p>
+
+
+<p>Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High
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+<hr class="l4"/>
+
+<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
+the Publishers.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big></p>
+<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/ad02.png" width="131" height="174" alt="Majorie Dean Highschool Freshman" title="Majorie Dean Highschool Freshman" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="adtitle1">Marjorie Dean<br />
+High School<br />
+Series</p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">BY PAULINE LESTER</p>
+
+<p><small>Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series</small></p>
+
+
+<p>These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great
+interest to all girls of high school age.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><small>All Cloth Bound &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Copyright Titles</small></p>
+
+<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH</p>
+
+<hr class="l3"/>
+
+<ul class="lsoff"><li>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN</li>
+<li>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE</li>
+<li>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR</li>
+<li>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR</li></ul>
+
+
+<hr class="l4"/>
+
+<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
+the Publishers.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big></p>
+<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/ad03.png" width="117" height="169" alt="The Girl Scouts Canoe Trip" title="The Girl Scouts Canoe Trip" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="adtitle1">The<br />
+Girl Scouts<br />
+Series<br /></p>
+
+<p class="adauthor">BY EDITH LAVELL</p>
+
+
+<p>A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by
+an author of wide experience in Scouts&rsquo; craft, as
+Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><small>Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.</p>
+
+<hr class="l3"/>
+
+<ul class="lsoff"><li>THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN&rsquo;S SCHOOL</li>
+<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP</li>
+<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS&rsquo; GOOD TURN</li>
+<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS&rsquo; CANOE TRIP</li>
+<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS&rsquo; RIVALS</li>
+<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH</li>
+<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS&rsquo; VACATION ADVENTURES</li>
+<li>THE GIRL SCOUTS&rsquo; MOTOR TRIP</li></ul>
+
+<hr class="l4"/>
+
+<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
+the Publishers.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big></p>
+<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/ad04.png" width="128" height="176" alt="The Campfire Girls in the Maine Woods" title="The Campfire Girls in the Maine Woods" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="adtitle2">The Camp Fire<br />
+Girls Series</p>
+
+<p class="center">By HILDEGARD G. FREY</p>
+<hr class="l5"/>
+
+<p>A Series of Outdoor Stories for
+Girls 12 to 16 Years.</p>
+
+<p class="center">All Cloth Bound &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Copyright Titles</p>
+
+<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH</p>
+<hr class="l5"/>
+
+<ul class="lsoff">
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS;
+or, The Winnebagos go Camping.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The
+Wohelo Weavers.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or,
+The Magic Garden.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along
+the Road That Leads the Way.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS&rsquo; LARKS AND PRANKS; or,
+The House of the Open Door.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN&rsquo;S ISLE; or, The
+Trail of the Seven Cedars.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD;
+or, Glorify Work.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over
+the Top with the Winnebagos.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or,
+The Christmas Adventure at Carver House.</li>
+
+<li>THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN;
+or, Down Paddles.</li>
+</ul>
+
+
+<hr class="l4"/>
+
+<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
+the Publishers.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big></p>
+<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p>
+
+<hr class="l1"/>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/ad05.png" width="127" height="172" alt="The Blue Grass Seminary Girls in the Mountains" title="The Blue Grass Seminary Girls in the Mountains" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="adtitle3">The Blue Grass<br />
+Seminary Girls Series</p>
+
+<p class="center">BY CAROLYN JUDSON BURNETT</p>
+<hr class="l5"/>
+
+<p class="center">For Girls 12 to 16 Years</p>
+
+<p class="center">All Cloth Bound &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Copyright Titles</p>
+
+<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH</p>
+
+<p><small>Splendid stories of the Adventures
+of a Group of Charming Girls.</small></p>
+<hr class="l5"/>
+
+<ul class="lsoff">
+<li>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS&rsquo; VACATION ADVENTURES;
+or, Shirley Willing to the Rescue.</li>
+
+<li>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS&rsquo; CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS;
+or, A Four Weeks&rsquo; Tour with the Glee Club.</li>
+
+<li>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS;
+or, Shirley Willing on a Mission of Peace.</li>
+
+<li>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or,
+Exciting Adventures on a Summer&rsquo;s Cruise Through
+the Panama Canal.</li>
+</ul>
+
+<hr class="l6"/>
+
+<div class="figright">
+<img src="images/ad06.png" width="124" height="170" alt="Mildred at Home" title="Mildred at Home" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="adtitle2">The Mildred Series</p>
+
+<p class="center">BY MARTHA FINLEY</p>
+
+<hr class="l5"/>
+<p class="center">For Girls 12 to 16 Years.</p>
+
+<p class="center">All Cloth Bound &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Copyright Titles</p>
+
+<p class="center">PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH</p>
+
+<p><small>A Companion Series to the famous
+&ldquo;Elsie&rdquo; books by the same author.</small></p>
+<hr class="l5"/>
+
+<div class="center r2 c">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Mildred Keith Books">
+<tr><td align="left">MILDRED KEITH</td><td align="left">MILDRED&rsquo;S MARRIED LIFE</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">MILDRED AT ROSELAND</td><td align="left">MILDRED AT HOME</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">MILDRED AND ELSIE</td><td align="left">MILDRED&rsquo;S BOYS AND GIRLS</td></tr>
+<tr><td colspan="2">MILDRED&rsquo;S NEW DAUGHTER</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<hr class="l4"/>
+
+<p class="center"><small>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by
+the Publishers.</small></p>
+
+<p class="center"><big>A. L. BURT COMPANY</big></p>
+<p>114-120 East 23rd Street, <span class="rght">New York</span></p>
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="tnote">
+<p><b>Transcriber&rsquo;s note:</b></p>
+<p>Minor printer&rsquo;s errors have been corrected.
+Otherwise the original has been preserved, including inconsistent
+spelling and hyphenation.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY***</p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Molly Brown of Kentucky, by Nell Speed
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Molly Brown of Kentucky
+
+
+Author: Nell Speed
+
+
+
+Release Date: July 15, 2011  [eBook #36736]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, eagkw,
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustration.
+      See 36736-h.htm or 36736-h.zip:
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36736/36736-h/36736-h.htm)
+      or
+      (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36736/36736-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: One by one they emerged from their corner.--_Page 237._]
+
+
+MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY
+
+by
+
+NELL SPEED
+
+Author of
+"The Tucker Twins Series," "The Carter
+Girls Series," etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+A. L. Burt Company
+Publishers      New York
+
+Printed in U. S. A.
+
+Copyright, 1917,
+By
+Hurst & Company, Inc.
+
+Printed in U. S. A.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+  CHAPTER                               PAGE
+
+        I  A LETTER                        5
+
+       II  THE ORCHARD HOME               19
+
+      III  KENT BROWN                     37
+
+       IV  AFTERNOON TEA                  51
+
+        V  LETTERS FROM PARIS AND BERLIN  61
+
+       VI  AT THE TRICOTS'                80
+
+      VII  A MOTHER'S FAITH               99
+
+     VIII  DES HALLES                    112
+
+       IX  THE AMERICAN MAIL             123
+
+        X  THE ZEPPELIN RAID             132
+
+       XI  "L'HIRONDELLE DE MER"         138
+
+      XII  TUTNO                         147
+
+     XIII  THE "SIGNY"                   160
+
+      XIV  THE CABLEGRAM                 167
+
+       XV  WELLINGTON AGAIN              185
+
+      XVI  IRISHMAN'S CURTAINS           200
+
+     XVII  HEROES AND HERO WORSHIPERS    221
+
+    XVIII  CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE       246
+
+      XIX  WASTED DYE                    263
+
+       XX  A WAR BRIDE                   270
+
+      XXI  THE FLIGHT                    283
+
+     XXII  THE WEDDING BREAKFAST         296
+
+    XXIII  THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER      304
+
+
+
+
+Molly Brown of Kentucky.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+A LETTER.
+
+
+From Miss Julia Kean to Mrs. Edwin Green.
+
+                                            Giverny, France,
+                                                 August, 1914.
+
+Dearest old Molly Brown of Kentucky:
+
+You can marry a million Professor Edwin Greens, B.A., M.A., Ph.D., L.D.
+(the last stands for lucky dog), and you can also have a million little
+Green Olive Branches, but you will still be Molly Brown of Kentucky to
+all of your old friends.
+
+I came up to Giverny last week with the Polly Perkinses. They are great
+fun and, strange to say, get on rather better than most married folks.
+Jo is much meeker than we ever thought she could be, now that she has
+made Polly cut his hair and has let her own grow out. Polly is more
+manly, too, I think and asserts himself occasionally, much to Jo's
+delight. I should not be at all astonished if his falsetto voice turned
+into a baritone, if not a deep bass. He walks with quite a swagger and
+talks about my wife this and my wife that in such masculine pride that
+you would not know him.
+
+Paris was rather excited when we came through last week. I have been at
+Quimperle all summer and only stopped in Paris long enough to get some
+paints and canvas. I had actually painted out. Jo had written me to join
+her in this little housekeeping scheme at Giverny. I wish you could see
+the house we have taken. It is too wonderful that it is ours! Such peace
+and quiet! Especially so, after the turmoil in Paris. I have seen so few
+papers that I hardly know what it is all about; no doubt you in Kentucky
+with your _Courier Journal_ know more than I do. They talk of war, but
+of course that is nonsense. Anyhow, if there is a war, I bet I am going
+to be Johnny on the Spot. But of course there won't be one.
+
+I miss Kent,--but I need hardly tell you that. I almost gave in and
+sailed with him, but it was much best for me to wait in France for my
+mother and father. They are now in Berlin waiting for the powers that be
+to give some kind of a permit for some kind of a road that Bobby is to
+build from Constantinople to the interior; that is, he is to build it if
+he can get the permission of the Imperial Government. What the Germans
+have to do with Turkey, you can search me, but that is what Bobby writes
+me. He has done a lot of work on it already in the way of preliminary
+plans. I am to hang around until I hear from them, so I am going to hang
+around with the Polly Perkinses.
+
+No doubt Kent is home by this time. I envy him, somehow. It is so
+wonderful to have a home to go to. Now isn't that a silly line of talk
+for Judy Kean to be getting off, I, who have always declared that a
+Gypsy van was my idea of bliss? I never have had a home and I never
+have wanted one until lately. I fancy that winter in Paris with your
+mother in the Rue Brea was my undoing. Of course, if Bobby had been
+anything but a civil engineer and Mamma had been anything but so much
+married to Bobby that she had to trot around with him from one end of
+the earth to the other, why then, I might have had a home. But Bobby is
+Bobby and he wouldn't have been himself doing anything but building
+roads, and I certainly would not have had Mamma let him build them all
+by his lonesome. The truth of the matter is, I was a mistake. I
+should either never have been born or I should have been born a boy.
+Geewhillikins! What a boy I would have been! Somehow, I'm glad I'm not,
+though.
+
+I am wild to see little Mildred. It seems so wonderful for you to be a
+mother. I know you will make a great job of being one, too. Are you
+going to have her be an old-fashioned baby with the foregone conclusion
+that she must "eat her peck of dirt," or is she to be one of these
+infants whose toys must be sterilized before she is allowed to play
+with them, and who is too easily contaminated to be kissed unless the
+kisser gargles first with corrosive sublimate? Please let me know about
+this, because kiss her I must and will, and if I have to be aseptic
+before I can do it, I fancy I had better begin right now. Here is Polly
+with the mail and Paris papers. Will finish later.
+
+It has come! Actual war! We feel like fools to have rushed off here to
+the country without knowing more about the state France was in. I can
+hardly believe it even now. They are asking Americans to leave Paris,
+but I can't leave. How can I, with Mamma and Papa in Berlin? I am going
+to stay right where I am until things settle themselves a little. The
+peasants even now do not believe it has come. We are not much more than
+an hour from Paris, but there are many persons living in this village
+who have never been to Paris. The old men stand in groups and talk
+politics, disagreeing on every subject under the sun except the one
+great subject and that is Germany. Hatred of Germany is the one thing
+that there are no two minds about. The women look big-eyed and
+awestruck. There are no young men--all gone to war. They went off
+singing and joking.
+
+
+What I long for most is news. We don't get any news to speak of. I am
+filled with concern about Bobby and Mamma. It is foolish, as they are
+able to take care of themselves, but Bobby is so sassy. I am so afraid
+he might jaw back at the Emperor. He is fully capable of calling him to
+account for his behavior. Some one should, but I hope it won't be Bobby.
+
+
+Polly Perkins is going to drive a Red Cross Ambulance. He is quite
+determined, so determined that he has actually produced a chin from
+somewhere (you remember he boasted none to speak of). It is quite
+becoming to him, this determination and chin, and Jo is beaming with
+pride. I believe if Polly had wanted to run, it would have killed Jo.
+
+
+Excuse the jerkiness of this, but I am so excited that I can only jot
+down a little at a time. Things are moving fast! The artists and near
+artists at Madame Gaston's Inn are piling out, making for Paris, some to
+sail for United States and others to try to get into England. Jo and I
+had determined to sit tight in our little house with its lovely walled
+garden that seems a kind of protection to us--not that we are scared,
+bless you no! We just felt we might as well be here as anywhere else.
+
+This morning Jo came to breakfast looking kind of different and yet kind
+of familiar--she had cut off her hair!
+
+"I mean to follow Polly," she remarked simply.
+
+"Follow him where?"
+
+"Wherever he goes." And do you know, Molly, the redoubtable Jo burst
+into tears?
+
+I was never more shocked in my life. If your Aunt Sarah Clay had
+dissolved into tears, I would not have been more at a loss how to
+conduct myself. I patted her heartily on the back but the poor girl
+wanted a shoulder to weep on and I lent her one. I tell you when Jo gets
+started she is some bawler. I fancy she made up for all the many years
+that crying has been out of her ken.
+
+My neck is stiff from the wetting I got. Nothing short of the plumber
+could have stopped her. When she finally went dry, she began to talk:
+
+"By I'b glad Bolly didn zee be bake zuch a vool ob byself!"
+
+"Well, you had better look after your p's and s's or you'll be taken up
+as a German spy." That made her laugh and then she went on to tell me
+what she meant to do, the p's still too much for her but her s's
+improving.
+
+"What's the use of my brofession now? I'd like to know that. Miniature
+painting will be no good for years to come. This war is going to be
+something that'll make everybody baint on big canvasses. Who will want
+to look at anything little? I tell you, Judy, the day of mastodons is at
+hand! There'll be no more lap-dogs, no more pet canaries. The one time
+lap-dogs will find themselves raging lions; and the pet canaries will
+grow to great eagles and burst the silly wires of their cages with a
+snap of their fingers----"
+
+"Whose fingers?" I demanded.
+
+"Never mind whose! Mixed metaphors are perfectly permissible in war
+time." I was glad to see she could say such a word as permissible, which
+meant that her storm of weeping had subsided.
+
+"Are you going as a Red Cross nurse?" I asked.
+
+"Nurse your grandmother! I'm going to drive an ambulance or maybe fly."
+
+"But they won't want a woman in the thick of the fight!"
+
+"Well, who's to know? When I get a good hair-cut and put on some of
+Polly's togs, I bet I'll make as good a man as Pol--no, I won't say
+that. I'll never be as good a man as he is. I'm going to try the
+aviation racket first. If they won't take me, I'll get with the Red
+Cross, somehow. I know I could fly like a bird. I have never yet seen
+the wheels that I could not understand the turning of. I believe it is
+not so easy to get aviators. It is so hazardous that men don't go in for
+it. I am light weight but awfully strong."
+
+"But, Jo, what are you going to do about your feet?" You remember,
+Molly, what pretty little feet Jo has.
+
+"Oh, I'll wear some of Polly's shoes and stuff out the toes. I bet I'll
+walk like Charlie Chaplin, but when one is flying, it doesn't make much
+difference about feet."
+
+Nothing is going to stop her. She is to start to Paris to-morrow, and I
+will go, too. I know all of you think I should stay here in G---- until
+I can get into communication with Bobby, but Molly Brown, I can't do it.
+When history is being made, I simply can't stand aside and see it. I've
+got to get in it by hook or crook.
+
+Don't be scared--I am not going to fly! I wish I could, but I promised
+Kent Brown I would never fly with any man but him, and while it was done
+in jest, in a way I still feel that a promise must be kept. I wish I
+were not made that way. I'd like to dress up like Jo Bill Perkins and
+pass as a man, and I could do it quite as well as Jo, in spite of her
+having practiced being a boy all her life, but I can't help thinking
+what Bobby has always said to me: "Just remember you are a lady and you
+can't go far wrong." Somehow, I am afraid if I cut off my hair and
+discarded skirts, I might forget I am a lady. It is an awful nuisance
+being one, anyhow.
+
+I don't know just what I am going to do, but I certainly can't cross the
+Atlantic, with Bobby and poor little Mamma somewhere in Germany, maybe
+locked up in dungeons or something. I know it won't help them any for me
+to be in France, but at least I will be nearer to them geographically.
+
+My letter of credit on the Paris bankers will put me on easy street
+financially, so as far as money is concerned, Bobby will know I am all
+right. I can't think the war will last very long. Surely all the neutral
+countries will just step in and stop it. The French are looking to
+United States. It is very amusing to hear the old peasants talk about
+Lafayette. They seem to think tit for tat: if they helped us out more
+than a century ago, we will have to help them out now.
+
+I can't tell what I think just yet. Everything is in too much of a
+turmoil. I wish I knew what Bobby thinks. He is always so sane in his
+political opinions. I get more and more uneasy about them, Bobby and
+Mamma. Such terrible tales of the Germans are coming to us. I don't
+believe them, at least not all of them. How could a kindly, rather
+bovine race suddenly turn into raging tigers? Why should any one want
+to do anything to Bobby? I comfort myself with that thought and then I
+remember how hot-headed and impulsive he is, inherited directly from me,
+his daughter, and I begin to tremble.
+
+Jo and I are settling up our affairs here. Madame Gaston is to take
+charge of our few belongings. I have a hunch it will be best to lighten
+our luggage all we can. Jo is not going to turn into a man until we get
+to Paris. She is too funny in her envy of old Mere Gaspard because of
+her big moustache. You know how many of the French peasant women have
+quite mannish beards and moustaches. Mother Gaspard has the largest and
+most formidable one I have ever seen, although she is a most motherly
+old soul, not a bit fatherly.
+
+I will write from Paris again. I know Kent is in a state of grouch with
+himself for sailing when he did. I believe he feels as I do about things
+happening. I don't want houses to burn down, but if they do burn, I want
+to see the fire; I don't want dogs to fight, but if there is a dog fight
+going on, I am certainly going to stand on my tiptoes and look over the
+crowd and see them tear each other up; I certainly don't want the
+Nations to go to war, but if they will do it, I am going to have
+experiences.
+
+Please give my best love to all the family and a thoroughly sterilized
+kiss to that marvelous infant. I verily believe if it had not been for
+Kent's overweening desire to behold that baby, he would have waited over
+for another steamer and in that way found himself in the thick of the
+fight. I am glad he went, however. If Polly Perkins developed a chin and
+rushed off, what might Kent have done with an overdevelopment of chin
+already there?
+
+                                            Yours always,
+                                                         JUDY.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE ORCHARD HOME.
+
+
+"R. F. D., late as usual," laughed Molly, as Mr. Bud Woodsmall's very
+ramshackle Ford runabout came careening through the lane and up the hill
+to the yard gate. "I fancy he has had to stop and talk war at every mail
+box on his route."
+
+"I think I'll go meet him," said Professor Edwin Green, rather
+reluctantly arising from the chaise longue that seemed to have been
+built to fit his lack of curves, he declared. He had been sitting on the
+porch of the bungalow, eyes half closed to shut out everything from his
+vision but the picture of Molly holding the sleeping baby in her arms.
+
+"You know you want to gossip with him--now 'fess up!"
+
+"Well, I do like to hear his views of the situation in Europe. They
+are original, at least. He says Yankee capitalists are the cause of it
+all. Don't you want me to put Mildred down? She has been asleep for
+half an hour," and the young husband and father stood for a moment and
+looked down on his treasures with what Judy Kean always called his
+faithful-collie-dog eyes.
+
+"I know I oughtn't to hold her while she is asleep, but she seems so
+wonderful I can't bear to let her go. I think she is growing more like
+you, Edwin."
+
+"Like me! Nonsense! That would be a sad thing to have wished on the poor
+innocent when there are so many handsome folks in the Carmichael and
+Brown family from whom she could inherit real beauty."
+
+"But Edwin, you are handsome, I think. You are so noble looking."
+
+"All right, honey, have it your own way," and he stooped and kissed her.
+"I will allow that the baby has inherited my bald head if you like--Hi
+there!" he called to Mr. Woodsmall, who was preparing to unlock the
+mail box, "I'll come get it," and he sprinted down the walk where the
+garrulous postman held him enthralled for a good fifteen minutes. A blue
+envelope with a foreign postmark told him there was a letter from Julia
+Kean that would be eagerly welcomed by Molly, but there was no stopping
+the flow of R. F. D.'s eloquence. The causes of the war being thoroughly
+threshed out, he finally took his reluctant departure.
+
+"A letter from Judy Kean! Now you will have to put the baby down!"
+
+So little Mildred was tenderly placed in her basket on the porch and
+Molly opened the voluminous epistle from the beloved Judy.
+
+"Oh, Edwin, she is not coming home! I was afraid she would want to do
+something Judyesque. Only listen!" and Molly read the Giverny letter to
+her husband.
+
+"What do you think Kent will say to this? I know he is very uneasy about
+her anyhow since the war broke out, and now--well, I'm glad I'm not in
+his shoes. She is not very considerate of him, I must say."
+
+"Oh, you men folks!" laughed Molly. "I can't see how she could leave
+France until she knows something about her mother and father, and after
+all, I don't believe Kent and Judy are engaged."
+
+"Not engaged! What do you think Kent has been doing this whole year in
+Paris if he wasn't getting engaged?"
+
+"Studying Architecture at the Beaux Arts. Sometimes persons can know one
+another a long time and be together a lot and not get engaged," she
+teased. It was a very well-known fact that Professor Edwin Green had
+been in love with Molly Brown for at least five years, and maybe longer,
+before he put the all important question.
+
+"Yes, I know, but then----"
+
+"Then what? My brother Kent is certainly not able to support a wife yet,
+and maybe they are opposed to long engagements."
+
+"Well, all the same I am sorry for Kent. It was bad enough when you went
+abroad and the ocean was between us and I knew you were being well taken
+care of by your dear mother,--but just suppose it had been war time and
+you had been alone! The news from France is very grave. It looks as
+though the Germans would eat Christmas dinner in Paris as they boast
+they will."
+
+"Oh, Edwin, no!" and Molly turned pale.
+
+"Well, look at these head lines in to-day's paper. It looks very
+ominous. When did you say you were expecting Kent home?"
+
+"By to-morrow at latest. He wrote Mother he was to stay some time in New
+York to try to land a job that looked very promising."
+
+"Here she comes now!" he exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy as it
+always did when his mother-in-law appeared on the scene.
+
+Mrs. Brown was coming through the orchard from Chatsworth. Her hair had
+turned a little greyer since Molly's marriage, but not much; her step
+was still light and active; her grey eyes as full of life; and in her
+heart the same eternal youth.
+
+"Well, children! Did you get any mail? How is my precious little
+granddaughter? I've a letter from Kent. It just did beat him home. Paul
+'phoned from Louisville that he is in town now, just arrived and will
+be here with him this afternoon. I am so excited!"
+
+Dear Mrs. Brown's life was made up of such excitements now: her children
+always going and returning. Mildred, Mrs. Crittenden Rutledge, had left
+for Iowa only two days before, having spent two months with her little
+family at Chatsworth; now Kent was almost home; and in less than a month
+the Greens would make their annual move to Wellington. Sue, the eldest
+daughter, married to young Cyrus Clay, lived within a few miles of
+Chatsworth and seemed the only one who was a fixture. Paul's newspaper
+work kept him in Louisville most of the time and John, the doctor, made
+flying visits to his home but had to make his headquarters in the city
+for fear of missing patients. Ernest, the eldest son, was threatening to
+come home and settle at Chatsworth, but that was still an uncertainty.
+
+"I must read you Judy's letter, Mother. I know you will feel as uneasy
+as we do about her. Edwin thinks she should come home, but I think she
+could hardly leave, not knowing something more definite about her
+mother and father, who may be bottled up in Germany indefinitely."
+
+"Only think of the sizzle Mr. Kean will make when they finally draw the
+cork," laughed Mrs. Brown; but when Molly read the whole of Judy's
+letter to her, the laughter left her countenance and she looked very
+solemn and disturbed.
+
+"Poor Kent!" she sighed.
+
+"I wonder what he will do," from Molly.
+
+"Do? Why, he will do what the men of his blood should do!" Mrs. Brown
+held her head very high and her delicate nostrils quivered in the way
+her family knew meant either anger or high resolve. "He will go to
+France and either stay and protect Judy or bring her back to his
+mother."
+
+"But, Mother, are you going to ask this of him? Maybe he won't think it
+is the right thing to do."
+
+"Of course, I am not going to ask it of him. I just know the 'mettle of
+his pasture.'"
+
+"But the expense!"
+
+"Expense! Molly, you don't sound like yourself. What is expense when
+your loved ones are in danger?"
+
+"But I can't think that Judy could be in real danger."
+
+"I can't think anything else. You surely have not read the morning
+paper. The Germans are advancing so rapidly.... The atrocities in
+Belgium! Ugh! I can't contemplate our Judy being anywhere in their
+reach."
+
+"But, Mother, they must be exaggerated! People could not do what they
+say they have done, not good, kind German soldiers."
+
+"Molly! Molly! Your goodness will even let you love the Germans. I am
+not made that way. The Anglo Saxon in me is so uppermost and I feel such
+a boiling and bubbling in my veins that nothing but my grey hairs keeps
+me from joining the Red Cross myself and helping the Allies!"
+
+"Well, then you don't blame Miss Judy Kean," laughed Professor Green,
+who never loved his mother-in-law more than when, as old Aunt Mary
+expressed it, "her nose was a-wuckin'."
+
+"Blame her! No, indeed! If I were her age, I'd do exactly what she is
+doing, but I should certainly have expected Molly's father to come over
+and protect me while I was being so foolhardy."
+
+"Judy doesn't say she is going as a nurse," said Molly, referring to the
+letter. "Jo Williams is to fly and Judy seems uncertain what she is
+going to do,--just see the fight, as far as I can make out. I know Judy
+so well I just can't feel uneasy about her. You mustn't think I am
+mercenary, Mother, or careless of my friend. Judy always lands on her
+feet and is as much of an adept in getting out of scrapes as she is in
+getting in them."
+
+"My darling, of course I didn't mean you were mercenary," cried Mrs.
+Brown, seeing in Molly's blue eyes a little hurt look at the vigorous
+tone she had taken when Molly merely suggested expense. "I just think in
+your desire to think well of every one, nations as well as individuals,
+that you are blind to the terrors of this war. If Judy will only go to
+Sally Bolling, she will be taken care of. I fancy Sally is at La Roche
+Craie now."
+
+"Oh, I had forgotten to think of what this must mean to Cousin Sally!"
+exclaimed Molly. "The truth of the matter is that it is so peaceful here
+my imagination cannot picture what it is over there. I am growing
+selfish with contentment. Of course Philippe d'Ochte will join his
+regiment and poor Cousin Sally and the Marquis will suffer agonies over
+him."
+
+"Yes and over France!" said Edwin solemnly. "I remember so well a
+conversation I had with the Marquis d'Ochte on the subject of his
+country. I believe he really and truly puts his country above even his
+adored wife and son. That is more patriotism than I could be capable
+of----"
+
+"Not a bit of it, my dear Edwin," broke in Mrs. Brown.
+
+    "'I could not love thee half so well
+      Loved I not honour more.'
+
+"Molly and your little baby Mildred are but a part of your country, and
+if the time should come and your country called you, you would answer
+the call just as I hope my own sons would."
+
+"Oh, Mother, you are a Spartan! I am not so brave, I am afraid," said
+Molly. "Even now at the thought of war, I am thanking God my Mildred
+baby is a girl."
+
+Little Mildred, at mention of her name, although it would be many a day
+before she would know what her name was, awakened and gave an
+inarticulate gurgle. Mrs. Brown dropped the role of Spartan Mother and
+turned into a doting grandmother in the twinkling of an eye.
+
+"And was um little tootsie wootsies cold? Come to your Granny and let
+her warm them. Molly, this baby has grown a foot, I do believe, and look
+what a fine, strong, straight back she has! And does oo want your Granny
+to rub your back? Only look, her eyes have brown lights in them! I said
+all the time she would have brown eyes."
+
+"And not Molly's blue eyes! Oh, Mother, that is very bad news to me.
+Why, the baby's eyes are as blue as the sea now. They could not change,"
+and Edwin Green peered into his offspring's face with such intentness
+that the little thing began to whimper.
+
+The proper indignation being expressed by the females and the baby
+dangled until smiles came and a crow, Mrs. Brown informed the ignorant
+father that all young animals have blue eyes and there is no determining
+the actual colour of a baby's eyes until it is several months old, but
+that the minute brown or golden lights begin to appear in blue eyes, you
+can get ready to declare for a brown-eyed youngster.
+
+"Well, she will surely have Molly's hair," he insisted.
+
+"That we can't tell, either," said the all-knowing grandmother. "You
+see, she is almost bald now except for this tiny fringe that is rapidly
+being worn off in the back. That does seem a little pinkish."
+
+"Pinkish! Oh, Mother-in-law, what a word to express my Molly's hair!"
+
+"Can't you see she is getting even with you for making Mildred almost
+cry?" laughed Molly. "I know she is going to have my hair because when
+you slip a little bit of blue under that little lock that is on the
+side, where it hasn't rubbed off, the 'pink' comes out quite plainly. My
+Mildred will be a belle. I have always heard it said that a girl with
+brown eyes and golden hair is born to be a belle. Oh, yes, I will call
+the baby's hair golden although I have always called my own red."
+
+"I don't know whether I want her to be a belle or not," objected Edwin.
+"She might be frivolous."
+
+"Frivolous with your eyes! Heavens, Daddy, she couldn't be!"
+
+Mrs. Brown contentedly smiled and rocked the baby, who crowed and cooed
+and kicked her pretty pink tootsies. The sun shone on the orchard home
+and a particularly obliging mocking bird burst into song from one of the
+gnarled old apple trees, heavy with its luscious fruit. Mocking birds
+are supposed not to sing in August, but sometimes they do, and when
+they do, their song is as wonderful and welcome as an unlooked-for
+legacy.
+
+Molly looked over the fields of waving blue grass to the dark beech
+woods that bordered the pasture, a feeling of great happiness and
+contentment in her heart. How peaceful and sweet was life! She leaned
+against her husband, who put an ever-ready arm around her, and together
+they gazed on the fruitful landscape. Mrs. Brown crooned to the baby a
+song ever dear to her own children and one that had been sung to her by
+her own negro mammy.
+
+     "Mammy went away--she tol' me ter stay,
+        An' tek good keer er de baby,
+      She tol' me ter stay an' sing dis away:
+        Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby!
+
+      Oh, go ter sleep! sleepy little baby,
+        Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby,
+      Kaze when yer wake, yo'll git some cake,
+        An' ride a little white horsey!
+
+      We'll stop up de cracks an' sew up de seams--
+        De Booger Man never shall ketch you!
+      Oh, go ter sleep an' dream sweet dreams--
+        De Booger Man never shall ketch you!
+
+      Oh, go ter sleep! sleepy little baby,
+        Oh, go ter sleepy, little baby,
+      Kaze when you wake, you'll git some cake,
+        An' lots er nice sugar candy!"
+
+How could whole countries be at war and such peace reign in any spot on
+the globe?
+
+The whirr of an approaching motor awoke them from their musings and
+stopped the delightful song before one-third of the stanzas had been
+sung. It was Kent with John in the doctor's little runabout.
+
+"My boy! my boy!" and Mrs. Brown dropped the baby in her basket and flew
+across the grass to greet the long-absent Kent.
+
+"I couldn't wait for Paul but had to get old Dr. John to bring me out.
+Mumsy, how plump and pink you are. I declare you look almost as young as
+the new baby," said Kent after the first raptures of greeting were over.
+"And Molly, you look great! And 'Fessor Green, I declare you are getting
+fat. I bet you have gained at least three-quarters of a pound since you
+got married. Positively obese!"
+
+"You haven't said much about the baby," objected Molly.
+
+"Well, there's not much to say, is there? She is an omnivorous biped, I
+gather, from the two feet I can see and her evident endeavor to eat
+them, at least, I fancy that is why she is kicking so high. She has got
+Edwin's er--er--well--his high forehead----"
+
+"She is not nearly so bald-headed as you were yourself," declared his
+mother. "You were such a lovely baby, Kent, the loveliest of all my
+babies, I believe. I always adored a bald-headed baby and you had a head
+like a little billiard ball."
+
+They all laughed at this and Kent confessed that if he had been
+bald-headed himself, he believed the little Mildred must be, after all,
+very charming.
+
+"Any letters for me?" he asked, and Molly thought she detected a note of
+anxiety below all the nonsense he had been talking.
+
+"No, I have not seen any."
+
+"Well, have you heard from--from Judy Kean?"
+
+"Yes," confessed Molly. "I got a letter to-day."
+
+"Please may I see it?"
+
+"Yes, of course you may."
+
+But Molly felt a great reluctance to show Julia Kean's letter to her
+brother. She knew very well he was uneasy already about their friend
+and was certain this letter would only heighten his concern. Kent was
+looking brown and sturdy; he seemed to her to have grown even taller
+than the six feet one he already measured when he went abroad. His
+boyish countenance had taken on more purpose and his jaw had an added
+squareness. His deep set grey eyes had a slight cloud in them that Molly
+and her mother hated to see.
+
+"It is Judy, of course," they said to themselves.
+
+"I landed my job in New York," he said, as he opened the little blue
+envelope.
+
+"Splendid!" exclaimed Molly.
+
+Mrs. Brown tried to say splendid, too, but the thought came to her:
+"Another one going away from home!" and she could only put her arm
+around her boy's neck and press a kiss on his brown head.
+
+They were all very quiet while Kent read the letter. Dr. John, alone,
+seemed disinterested. He very professionally poked the infant in the
+ribs to see how fat she had grown and, also, much to the indignation of
+Molly, went through some tests for idiocy, which, of course, the tiny
+baby could not pass.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+KENT BROWN.
+
+
+"Mother, will you come and take a little walk with me?" asked Kent as he
+finished Judy's letter. With his hand trembling, although his eyes were
+very steady and his mouth very firm, he tucked the many thin blue sheets
+back in their envelope.
+
+"Yes, my son!" Mrs. Brown held her head very high and in her expression
+one could very well read: "I told you so! Did I not know the 'mettle of
+his pasture'?"
+
+"Mother," he said, as he drew her arm in his and they took their way
+through the orchard to the garden of Chatsworth, "I must go get Judy!"
+
+"Yes, my son, of course you must."
+
+"Oh, Mother, you think it is the only thing to do?"
+
+"Of course, I know it is the only thing to do. I told Molly and Edwin
+only a few minutes ago that you would want to do it."
+
+"And what a mother! I--well, you know, Mother, I am not engaged to
+Judy--not exactly, that is. She knows how I feel about her and
+somehow--I can't say for sure--but I almost know she feels the same way
+about me, at least, feels somehow about me."
+
+"Of course she does! How could she help it?"
+
+"You see, I knew it would be some time before I could make a decent
+living, and it did not seem fair to Judy to tie her down when maybe she
+might strike some fellow who would be so much more worth while than I
+am----"
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"I used to think maybe Pierce Kinsella would be her choice, when they
+painted together so much."
+
+"That boy! Why, Kent, how could you?"
+
+"Well, he was a very handsome and brilliant boy and is pretty well fixed
+by his uncle's generosity and bids fair to make one of the leading
+portrait painters of the day. His portrait of you has made every lady
+who has seen it want him to do one of her. Of course, he can't make all
+of 'em look like you, but he does his best."
+
+"It may have been wise of you not to settle this little matter with
+Judy, son, but somehow--I wish you had."
+
+"It was hard not to, but I felt she was so far away from her parents. I
+thought she would be back in America in a month, at least. I wanted her
+to come with me, but she felt she must wait for them, and of course, I
+had to hurry back because of the possible job in New York. I am afraid
+that I will lose that now, but there will be others, and I just can't
+think of the things that might happen to my Judy--she is my Judy,
+whether we are engaged or not."
+
+"When will you start, son?"
+
+"Why, to-night, if you don't mind."
+
+"Certainly to-night! I have money for you."
+
+"Oh, Mother, the money part is the only thing worrying me. I have a
+little left, but not enough to get me over and back. I must have enough
+to bring Judy back, too. You see, a letter of credit now in Paris is
+not worth the paper it is on."
+
+"No, I did not know. That is the one part of Judy's letter that put me
+at ease about her. I thought she had plenty of money, and money
+certainly does help out."
+
+"Well, that is the part of her letter that made me know I must go get
+her. The Americans who are abroad simply can't get checks cashed. She
+might even be hungry, poor little Judy."
+
+"Thank goodness, I have some money--all owing to Judy's father, too! If
+he had not seen the bubbles on that puddle in the rocky pasture, we
+would never have known there was oil there. What better could we do with
+the money that Mr. Kean got for us than use it to succor his daughter?"
+
+"Oh, Mother, you are so--so--bully! I know no other word to express what
+you are. I am going to pay back every cent I borrow from you. Thank
+goodness, I saved a little from the money I made on the architectural
+sketches I did for the article Dickson wrote on the French country
+homes. I'm going over steerage."
+
+"You are going over in the first class cabin! Steerage, indeed! I lend
+no money for such a trip."
+
+"All right, Mother! You are the boss. And now, don't you think I'll have
+time to go see Aunt Mary a few minutes?"
+
+"Of course you must go see the poor old woman. She has been afraid she
+would not live until you got home. She is very feeble. Dear old Aunt
+Mary!"
+
+They had reached the Chatsworth garden and Kent noticed with delight the
+hollyhocks that had flourished wonderfully since he had dug them up that
+moonlight night more than three years ago and transplanted them from the
+chicken yard, where no one ever saw them, to the beds in the garden, and
+all because Miss Julia Kean had regretted that they were not there to
+make a background for the bridal party, after they had determined to
+have Mildred's wedding out of doors.
+
+"Haven't they come on wonderfully? I know Judy would like to see how
+well they have done. I think hollyhocks are the most decorative of all
+flowers. I wonder we never had them in the garden before, Mother."
+
+Both of them were thinking of Mildred's wedding on that rare day in
+June. Kent remembered with some satisfaction that in the general
+confusion that ensued after Mildred and Crit were pronounced, by Dr.
+Peters, to be man and wife, and everybody was kissing everybody else, he
+had had presence of mind to take advantage of the license accorded on
+the occasion of a family wedding and had kissed his sister Molly's
+college friend, Miss Julia Kean.
+
+"By Jove! I think war ought to give a fellow some privilege, too," he
+declared to himself. "I think I'll do the same when I see the young lady
+in France."
+
+They found Aunt Mary lying in state in a great four poster bed, while
+her meek half-sister, Sukey Jourdan, administered to her wants, which
+were many and frequent.
+
+"Lawsamussy, if that ain't that there Kent! Whar you come from, son? I
+done got so old an' feeble I can't say mister ter nobody. You alls is
+all Ernest and Sue and Paul and John and Mildred and Kent and Molly ter
+me. Cepn Molly is Molly Baby. I still got strenth fer that. Law, Miss
+Milly, ain't he growed?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Mary, he is looking so well, and now he is going to turn
+right around and go back to France to-night."
+
+"Don't say it! Lawsamussy, Miss Milly, did he fergit somethin'?"
+
+"Well, not exactly," laughed Kent, "but I didn't bring something with me
+that I should have."
+
+"Well, you be sho ter make a cross an' spit in it. If'n you fergits
+somethin' er fin's you has ter tu'n aroun' an' go back 'thout res'in' a
+piece, if'n you makes a cross an' spits in it, you is sho ter have good
+luck. Here you, Sukey, set a better cheer for Miss Milly. Wherfo' you
+done give her sich a straight up'n down cheer?"
+
+"Oh, this will do very well, Sukey," said Mrs. Brown.
+
+"You bring another, Sukey. I don' see what makes you so keerless. I low
+if'n 'twar that no count Buck Jourdan, you'd be drawin' up the sofy fer
+his triflin' bones."
+
+Poor Sukey had no easy job to keep Aunt Mary satisfied. The old woman,
+having been a most energetic and tireless person in her day, could not
+understand that the whole world of darkeys could not be as she had been.
+Sukey's son Buck, the apple of her mild eye, was the bane of Aunt Mary's
+existence. She never missed a chance to make her younger half-sister
+miserable on his account. Indeed, Sukey, mild as she was, would not have
+stayed with Aunt Mary except for the fact that Aunt Mary had insured her
+life for her with the understanding that she was to minister to her to
+the end. It was dearly paid for, this service, as the old woman was most
+exacting. Lenient to a degree of softness with white folks, she was
+adamant with those of her own race.
+
+"How do you feel, Aunt Mary?" asked Kent, looking with sorrow on the
+wasted features of the beloved old woman.
+
+"Well, I'm a feelin' tolerable peart this mornin' although endurin' of
+the night I thought my hour had struck. I got ter dreamin' 'bout my
+fun'ral, an' I got so mad cause Sis Ria Bowles done brought a fun'ral
+zine like one she done tuck ter Brer Jackson's orgies! An' dead or not,
+I wa'nt gonter stan' fer no sich monkey shines over me."
+
+"Why, what did she take to Brother Jackson's funeral?" laughed Kent.
+
+"Ain't you heard tel er that? She cut a cross outn that there sticky
+tangle yo' foot fly paper en' she kivered it all over with daisy haids
+an' call herse'f bringing a zine. I riz up an' spoke my mind in my dream
+an' I let all these here niggers in Jeff'son County know that if they
+don't see that I gits a fust class fun'ral, I gonter rise up when I
+ain't a dreamin' an' speak my min'."
+
+Sukey Jourdan listened to this tirade with her eyes bulging out of her
+head, much to Aunt Mary's satisfaction, as she very well knew that the
+way to manage her race was to intimidate them.
+
+"I done been carryin' insuriance in two clubs an' a comp'ny, an' betwixt
+'em I's entitled ter seventeen hacks. I'm a trustin' ter Miss Milly an'
+that there Paul ter make 'em treat me proper. Paul done say he will
+black list 'em in his newspaper if'n they leave off one tit or jottle
+from the 'greement. I sho would like ter see my fun'ral. I low it's a
+goin' ter be pretty stylish. I done pinted my pall buriers an' bought
+they gloves an' I low ter be laid out myself in my best black silk what
+Miss Milly done gimme goin' on sixteen year, come nex' Christmas. I
+ain't a wo' it much, as I had in min' ter save it fer my buryin'. Some
+of the mimbers gits buried in palls made er white silk. They do look
+right han'some laid out in 'em, but then palls is made 'thout a piece er
+back an' I has a notion that when Gabrel blows his trump on that great
+an' turrerble day that ole Mary Morton ain't a goin' ter be caught
+without no back ter her grabe clothes. It mought make no diffrunce if'n
+Peter will let me pass on in, 'cause I low that the shining robes will
+be a waitin' fer me--but sposin'--jes' sposin'----" and the dear old
+woman's face clouded over with anguish, "jes' sposin' Peter'll say:
+'You, Mary Morton, g'long from this here portcullis. You blongs in the
+tother d'rection,' an' I'll hab ter tun 'roun' an' take the broad road
+ter hell! What'll I feel like, if'n I ain't got no back ter my frock?
+No, sir! I's a goin' ter have on a dress complete. It mought be that
+Peter'll think better er me if I shows him sech a spectful back."
+
+"You not get in Heaven!" exclaimed Kent. "Why, Aunt Mary, there wouldn't
+be any Heaven for all of us bad Brown boys if you weren't there."
+
+"Well, now them is words of comfort what beats the preacher's. I done
+always been b'lievin' in 'fluence an' I mought er knowed my white folks
+would look arfter me on the las' day jes as much as ever. I kin git in
+as Miss Milly's cook if'n th'aint no other way. I been a 'lowing whin I
+gits ter Heaven I wouldn't have ter work no more, but sence I been a
+laid up in the baid so long I gin ter think that work would tas'e right
+sweet. Cookin' in Heaven wouldn't be so hard with plenty of 'gredients
+ter han' and no scrimpin' and scrougin' of 'terials. A lan' flowin' with
+milk an' honey mus' have aigs an' butter. Here you, Sukey Jourdan! Whar
+you hidin'?"
+
+"Here I is, Sis Ma'y, I jes' stepped in the shed room ter men' the fire
+ginst 'twas time ter knock up a bite er dinner fer you."
+
+"Well, while I's a thinkin' of it, I want you to git my bes' linen apron
+outn the chist--the one with the insertioning let in 'bove the hem, an'
+put it in the highboy drawer with my bes' black silk. I low I'll be laid
+out in a apron, 'cause if'n I can't git inter Heaven no other way, I am
+a thinkin' with a clean white apron on I kin slip in as a good cook."
+
+"Dear Aunt Mary, you have been as good as gold all your life," declared
+Mrs. Brown, wiping a tear from her eye, but smiling in spite of herself
+at Aunt Mary's quaint idea of a way to gain an entrance through the
+pearly gates.
+
+Aunt Mary had had many doubts about her being saved and had spent many
+weary nights, terrified at the thought of dying and perhaps not being
+fit for Heaven, but now that she had thought of wearing the apron, all
+doubts of her desirability were set at rest; indeed, her last days were
+filled with peace since she felt now that even Peter could not turn back
+a good cook.
+
+"I must be going, Aunt Mary," said Kent, taking the old woman's withered
+hand in his strong grasp. "I'll be home again in a few weeks, I fancy,
+maybe sooner."
+
+"They's one thing I ain't arsked you yit: whar's that there Judy gal?
+I been a dreamin' you would bring her back with you."
+
+"She is the thing I am going back to France for, Aunt Mary."
+
+"Sho nuf? Well, well! They do tell me they's fightin' goin' on in some
+er them furren parts. Sholy Miss Judy ain't nigh the fightin' an'
+fussin'?"
+
+"Yes, I am afraid she is. That's the reason I must go for her."
+
+"Oh, Kent son! Don't you git into no scrap yo'sef. It's moughty hard
+fer young folks ter look on at a scrap 'thout gittin' mixed up in it.
+Don't you git too clost, whin you is lookin', either. Them what looks
+on sometimes gits the deepes' razor cuts with the back han' licks. You
+pick up that gal an' bring her back ter you' maw jes' as fas' as yo'
+legs kin carry you."
+
+"I'll try to," laughed Kent.
+
+"Don't try! Jes' do it! That there Judy gal is sho nice an'
+'ristocratic, considerin' she ain't never had no home. She done tell
+me whin she was here to little Miss Milly's weddin' that she an' her
+folks ain't never lived in nothin' but rented houses. That's moughty
+queer to me, but 'cose niggers don't understan' ev'y thing. Well, you
+tell her that ole Mary Morton say she better pick up an' come back to
+Chatswuth."
+
+"I certainly will, Aunt Mary, and good-by!"
+
+The old woman put her hand on his bowed head for a moment, and while she
+said nothing, Kent took it for a benediction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+AFTERNOON TEA.
+
+
+Molly had established the custom of afternoon tea in her orchard home,
+and while she had been greatly teased by her brothers for introducing
+this English custom into Kentucky country life, they one and all turned
+up on her porch for tea if they were in the neighborhood.
+
+"It is one place where a fellow can always find some talk and a place to
+air his views," declared John, as he reached for another slice of bread
+and butter. "It isn't the food so much as the being gathered together."
+
+"Well, you are gathering a good deal of food together in spite of your
+contempt for it," put in Paul. "That's the sixth slice! I have kept tab
+on you."
+
+"Why not? I always think plain bread and butter is about the best thing
+there is."
+
+"Yes, why not?" asked Molly, calling her little cook Kizzie to prepare
+another plate of the desirable article. "Aunt Clay, you had better
+change your mind and have some tea and bread and butter."
+
+Mrs. Sarah Clay had driven over in state from her home when she heard
+Kent had arrived. She wanted to hear the latest news, also to tender
+her advice as to what he was to do now. She presented the same
+uncompromising front as of yore, although her back had given way
+somewhat to the weight of years. Judy Kean always said she had a hard
+face and a soft figure. This soft figure she poured into tight basques,
+evidently determined to try to make it live up to her face.
+
+"Tea!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I never eat between meals."
+
+"But this is a meal, in a way," said Molly hospitably bent, as was her
+wont, on feeding people.
+
+"A meal! Whoever heard of tea and bread and butter comprising a meal?"
+and the stern aunt stalked to the end of the porch where the baby lay in
+her basket, kicking her pink heels in the air in an ecstasy of joy over
+being in the world.
+
+"Molly, this baby has on too few clothes. What can you be thinking of,
+having the child barefooted and nothing on but this muslin slip over her
+arms? She is positively blue with cold."
+
+Molly flew to her darling but found her glowing and warm. "Why, Aunt
+Clay, only feel her hands and feet! She is as warm as toast. The doctor
+cautioned me against wrapping her up too much. He says little babies are
+much warmer than we are."
+
+"Well, have your own way! Of course, although I am older than your
+mother, I know nothing at all."
+
+"But, Aunt Clay----"
+
+"Never mind!"
+
+Poor Molly! She could never do or say anything to suit her Aunt Clay.
+She looked regretfully at the old lady's indignant back as she left her
+and joined Kent, who was sitting on a settle with his mother, holding
+her hand, both of them very quiet amidst the chatter around the tea
+table. They made room for their relative, who immediately began her
+catechism of Kent.
+
+"Why did you not come home sooner?"
+
+"Because I had some work to do, sketches illustrating an article on
+French country houses."
+
+"Humph! Did you get paid for them?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Clay!"
+
+"Now, what are your plans?"
+
+"I have landed a job in New York with a firm of architects, that is, I
+had landed it, but I am not so sure now since----"
+
+"Good! You feel that you had better stay at home and look after
+Chatsworth."
+
+"Oh, no! I am sure I could not be much of a farmer."
+
+"Could not because you would not! If I were your mother, I would insist
+on one of you staying at home and running the place."
+
+"Ernest is thinking of coming back, giving up engineering and trying
+intensive farming on Chatsworth."
+
+"Ernest, indeed! And why should he have wasted all these years in some
+other profession if he means to farm?"
+
+"Well, you see," said Kent very patiently because of the pressure he
+felt from his mother's gentle hand, "farming takes money and there
+wasn't any money. Ernest always did want to farm, but it was necessary
+for him to make some money first. Now he has saved and invested and has
+something to put in the land, and he is devoutly hoping to get out more
+than he puts in."
+
+"If putting something in the land means expensive machinery, I can tell
+him now that he will waste money buying it. But there is no use in
+telling Ernest anything--he is exactly like Sue: very quiet, does not
+answer back when his elders and betters address him, but, like Sue, goes
+his own way. Sue is very headstrong and simply twists my husband's
+nephew around her finger. I was very much disappointed in Cyrus Clay. I
+thought he had more backbone."
+
+Sue Brown, now Mrs. Cyrus Clay, had been the one member of the Brown
+family who always got on with the stern Aunt Clay; and Kent and his
+mother were sorry to hear the old lady express any criticism of Sue. It
+seemed that Sue had done nothing more serious than to persuade Cyrus to
+join the Country Club, but it was against Mrs. Sarah Clay's wishes, and
+anything that opposed her was headstrong and consequently wicked.
+
+"But to return to you----" Kent let a sigh escape him as he had hoped he
+had eluded further catechism, "what are you going to do now?"
+
+"Well, to-night I go back to New York, and day after to-morrow I take a
+French steamer for Havre."
+
+"Havre! Are you crazy?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"What are you going to do in France with this war going on?"
+
+"I am not quite sure."
+
+This was too much for the irate old lady, so without making any adieux,
+she took her departure, scorning the polite assistance of her three
+nephews. Professor Green called her coachman and helped her into the
+great carriage she still held to, the kind seen now-a-days only in
+museums.
+
+"Kent, how could you?" laughed Mrs. Brown, in spite of her attempt to
+look shocked.
+
+"I think Kent was right," declared Molly. "How could he tell Aunt Clay
+he was going to France to get Judy? She would never have let up on it.
+I'm glad she has gone, anyhow! We were having a very nice time without
+her."
+
+"Molly!" and Mrs. Brown looked shocked. She always exacted a show of
+respect from her children to this very difficult elder sister Sarah.
+
+"Oh, Mumsy, we have to break loose sometimes!" exclaimed Molly. "The
+idea of her saying Mildred was blue with cold! Criticising poor Sue,
+too! Goodness, I'd hate to be the one that Aunt Clay had taken a shine
+to. I'd almost rather have her despise me as she does."
+
+"Not despise you, Molly,--you don't understand your Aunt Clay."
+
+"Well, perhaps not, but she puts up a mighty good imitation of
+despising. I think it is because I look so like Cousin Sally Bolling
+and she never forgave the present Marquise d'Ochte for making fun of
+her long years ago. And then to crown it all, Cousin Sally got the
+inheritance from Greataunt Sarah Carmichael and married the Marquis, at
+least she married the Marquis and then got the inheritance. It was too
+much for Aunt Clay."
+
+Mrs. Brown looked so pained that Molly stopped her tirade. Aunt Clay was
+the one person whom Molly could not love. She had a heart as big as all
+out doors but it was not big enough to hold Aunt Clay.
+
+"Here comes Sue! How glad I am! She 'phoned she would be here before so
+very long. What a blessing she missed Aunt Clay! See, she is running the
+car herself and isn't it a beauty? Cyrus just got it for her and Sue
+runs it wonderfully well already. I forgot to write you about it, Kent.
+But best of all! What do you think? Cyrus has had the muddy lane that
+was the cause of Sue's hesitating whether to take him or not all
+drained and macadamized. The approach to Maxton is simply perfect now."
+
+"Good for Cyrus!" said Kent, jumping up to meet his sister, who drove
+her big car through the gate and up the driveway as though she had been
+running an automobile all her life.
+
+"Only think, five Browns together again!" exclaimed Paul, as they seated
+themselves on the porch of the bungalow after duly admiring the new car.
+Molly had Kizzie brew a fresh pot of tea and John was persuaded to eat
+some more thin slices of bread and butter.
+
+"Yes, five of you together again," said Mrs. Brown wistfully. "Ah, me! I
+wish I could get all seven of you at Chatsworth once more. Indeed, I
+wish I had all of you back in the nursery again."
+
+"But where would I come in then?" said Edwin Green whimsically.
+
+"And little Mildred?" from Molly, hugging her infant.
+
+"And Sue's new car, not to mention Cyrus?" teased Kent.
+
+"You are right, children. I should be more of a philosopher.
+
+    "'The Moving Finger writes: and, having writ,
+      Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
+        Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
+      Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.'"
+
+Molly stood over Kent with a cup of steaming tea and taking her cue from
+her mother's quotation from the Rubaiyat and prompted by his knownothing
+attitude with his Aunt Clay, she got off the stanza:
+
+     "Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare;
+      To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair:
+        Drink! for you know not whence you came nor why:
+      Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+LETTERS FROM PARIS AND BERLIN.
+
+
+From Miss Julia Kean to Mrs. Edwin Green.
+
+                               Paris, and no idea of the date.
+                            No fixed address, but the American
+                                          Club might reach me.
+
+Molly darling:
+
+Things are moving so fast that even I can't quite catch on, and you know
+I am some mover myself. Jo and I came to Paris as I wrote you we would,
+but I haven't seen her since. She told me in as polite words as she
+could command that she couldn't be bothered with me any more. At least
+that was the trend of her remarks. She has the business before her of
+making up to look as much like a man as possible and then of being taken
+into the aviation school.
+
+I met an art student from Carlo Rossi's on the street and he told
+me Polly was already the proud driver of an ambulance. Lots of the
+American art students have enlisted or joined the Red Cross. If I liked
+sick folks or nursing, I think I'd join myself. I feel that I should be
+doing something while I wait to hear from Bobby. I hope to see the
+American Ambassador next week. He is simply floored under with duties
+just now. I don't want any help from him, but just to find out something
+about Bobby and Mamma.
+
+If you could see Paris now! Oh, Molly, our gay, beautiful, eternally
+youthful city has grown suddenly sad and middle-aged. There is no gaiety
+or frivolity now. Her step has changed from a dance to a march. Her
+laughter has turned to weeping, but silent weeping--she makes no outcry
+but one knows the tears are there. Her beautiful festive clothes are
+laid away and now there is nothing but khaki and mourning. The gallant
+little soldier is to discard his flaming red trousers and blue coat for
+khaki. The German finds him too easy a mark.
+
+I begin to tremble for Paris, but strange to say I have no fear for
+myself.
+
+I have seen the Ambassador! He was very grave when I told him about
+Bobby. There was some English capital involved in the railroad that
+Bobby was to build in Turkey, and for that reason there may be some
+complication. He is to communicate with Gerard immediately. In the
+meantime, he advises me to go home. I told him I had no home, but would
+wait here until I found out something. He asked me if I had plenty of
+money and I told him yes, indeed, my letter of credit was good for
+almost any amount. I had not had to draw on it as I had stocked up
+before I went to G---- to keep house with the Polly Perkinses. The
+Ambassador actually laughed at me. Do you know, I can't get any more
+money? What a fool I have been! I have been so taken up with Paris and
+the sights and sounds that money has never entered my head. I have quite
+a little left, though, and I intend to live on next to nothing.
+
+The Bents have left for America and have given me their key to use their
+studio as I see fit. Mrs. Bent wanted me to go with them, but I can't
+go until we hear from Gerard. Now I am back in the Rue Brea! It seems
+strange to be there again where we had such a glorious winter. The
+studio where Kent and Pierce Kinsella lived all last year is vacant. I
+don't know where Pierce is. Gone to war, perhaps!
+
+I spend the days on the streets, walking up and down, listening to the
+talk and watching the regiments as they move away. I ran across some old
+friends yesterday. You remember a wedding party I butted in on at St.
+Cloud that day I scared all of you so when I took the wrong train from
+Versailles and landed at Chartres? Well, I ran plump against the bride
+on Montparnasse (only she is no longer a bride but had a rosy infant
+over her shoulder). She came out of a little delicatessen shop and her
+husband in war togs followed her, and there I witnessed their parting. I
+seem fated to be present at every crisis in their lives. The girl did
+not recognize me but the young man did. I had danced with him in too mad
+a whirl for him to forget me. Then came the old father and his wife who
+looked like a member of the Commune. They keep the little shop, it
+seems. I shook hands with them and together we waited for the young
+man's regiment to come swinging down the street. With another embrace
+all around, even me, he caught step with his comrades and was gone. The
+bonnemere clasped her daughter-in-law to her grenadier-like bosom and
+they mingled their tears, the rosy baby gasping for breath between the
+two. The old father turned to me:
+
+"This is different from the last time we met, ma'mselle!"
+
+"Yes, so different!"
+
+"Come in and have a bite and sup with us. There is still something to
+eat in Paris besides horse flesh." His wife and daughter-in-law joined
+him in the invitation and so I went in. I enjoyed the meal more than
+I can tell you. The grenadier is some cook and although the fare was
+simple, it was so well seasoned and appetizing that I ate as I have not
+done since I got back to Paris. The truth of the matter is, I am living
+so cheap for fear of getting out of money and I am afraid I have been
+neglecting my inner man. I can't cook a thing myself, which is certainly
+trifling of me, and so have depended on restaurants for sustenance. I
+dressed the salad (you remember it is my one accomplishment) and it met
+with the approval of host and hostess.
+
+I told them of my trouble and how I felt I must wait until I heard
+something definite of my mother and father, and they were all sympathy.
+I have promised to come to them if I get into difficulty, and you don't
+know the comfortable feeling I have now that I have some adopted folks.
+
+I might go to the Marquise d'Ochte, but I know she has all on her hands
+and mind that she can attend to. I don't need anything but just
+companionship. I am such a gregarious animal that I must have folks.
+
+I am dying to hear from you and to know if Kent landed his job. Is
+he--well, angry with me for staying over? I would not have missed
+staying for anything, even if he should be put out. I can't believe he
+is, though. I had rather hoped for letters when the American mail came
+in this morning, but the man at the bank was very unfeeling and had
+nothing. Nobody seems to be getting any mail. I wonder if they are
+stopping it for some reason or other. I have a great mind to take this
+to some American who is fleeing and have it mailed in New York. I will
+do that very thing. Good by, Molly--don't be uneasy about me. You know
+my catlike nature of lighting on my feet.
+
+                                                 Your own,
+                                                         Judy.
+
+
+From Mr. Robert Kean to his Daughter Julia.
+
+                                                       Berlin.
+
+My dear Judy:
+
+I know you are intensely uneasy about us, but down in your heart you
+also know that we never get into scrapes we can't get out of, and we
+will get out of this. This letter will probably be postmarked Sweden
+but that does not mean I am there. In fact, I am in durance vile here
+in Berlin. I am allowed to walk around the streets and to pay my own
+living expenses but leave Berlin I cannot. Your mother can't leave,
+either--not that she would. You know how she thinks that she protects me
+and so she insists that she will stay. I am allowed to write no letters
+and can receive none. I am getting this off to you by a clever device of
+your mother's, which I shall not divulge now for fear it might be seized
+and thus get an innocent person in bad with this remarkable Government.
+
+I am kept here all because I know too much about the geography and
+topography of Turkey. Of course I have made careful maps of the proposed
+railroad from Constantinople, the one we have been trying to get the
+concessions for. Well, they have naturally seized the maps. But before I
+dreamed of the possibility of this war, for, like all of us fool Anglo
+Saxons, I have been nosing along like a mole, I had a talk with a high
+Prussian Muckamuck at dinner one evening about this proposed road and I
+drew the blame thing on the table cloth, and with bits of bread and salt
+cellars and what not I explained the whole topography of the country and
+the benefit it would be to mankind to have this particular railroad
+built, financed by my particular company. That was where I "broke my
+'lasses pitcher." Of course, having surveyed the country and made the
+maps, at least, having had a finger in the pie from the beginning, I can
+reproduce those maps from memory, if not very accurately, at least,
+accurately enough to get the Germans going if that particular
+information should be needed by the Allies.
+
+Do you know what I see in this? Why, Turkey will be in this war before
+so very long.
+
+I am hungry for news. I feel that I will go mad if I can't get some
+information besides what is printed in these boot licking newspapers
+of Berlin. They speak of their soldiers as though they were avenging
+angels--avenging what? Avenging the insult Belgium offered them for
+not lying down and making a road of herself for them to walk over.
+Avenging France for not opening wide her gates and getting ready the
+Christmas dinner the Kaiser meant to eat in Paris. I'd like to prepare
+his Christmas dinner, and surely I would serve a hors-d'oeuvre of
+rough-on-rats, an entree of ptomaines, and finish off with a dessert
+of hanging, which would be too sweet for him. Now just suppose this
+letter is seized and they see this above remark--what then? I must not
+be allowed to write my opinion of their ruler to my own daughter, but
+these Prussians who go to United States and get all they can from our
+country, feel at perfect liberty to publish newspapers vilifying our
+President and to burst into print at any moment about our men who are
+high in authority.
+
+Berlin is wild with enthusiasm and joy over her victories. Every Belgian
+village that is razed to the ground makes them think it is cause for a
+torch-light procession. I can't understand them. They can hardly be the
+same kindly folk we have so often stayed among. They are still kind,
+kind to each other and kind in a way to us and to all the strangers
+within their gates, but how they can rejoice over the reports of their
+victories I cannot see.
+
+They one and all believe that they were forced to fight. They say
+France was marching to Berlin for the President to eat Christmas dinner
+here, and that Belgium had promised they should go straight through her
+gates unmolested and did not regard the agreement of neutrality. I say
+nonsense to such statements. At least I think nonsense. I really say
+very little for one who has so much to say. I am bubbling over to talk
+politics with some one. Your poor little mumsy listens to me but she
+never jaws back. I want some one to jaw back. I have promised her to
+keep off the subject with these Prussians. They are so violent and so
+on the lookout for treason. There is one thing I am sure of and that is
+that no Frenchman would want to eat Christmas dinner or any other kind
+of dinner here if he could eat it in Paris. I am sick of raw goose and
+blood pudding and Limburger cheese.
+
+As I write this tirade, I am wondering, my dear daughter, where you are.
+Did you go back to America with Kent Brown, who, you wrote me in your
+last letter, was sailing in a week, or are you in Paris? I hope not
+there! Since I see the transports of joy these law-abiding, home-loving
+citizens, women and men, can get in over an account of what seems to me
+mere massacre, I tremble to think what the soldiers are capable of in
+the lust of bloodshed.
+
+From the last bulletin, the Germans are certainly coming closer and
+closer to Paris. I hope they are lying in their report. They are capable
+of falsifying anything.
+
+I am trying to get hold of our Ambassador to get me out of this mess,
+but he is so busy it is hard to see him. I think he is doing excellent
+work and I feel it is best for me to wait and let the Americans who are
+in more urgent need get first aid. I have enough money to tide us over
+for a few weeks with very careful expenditure. Of course I can get no
+more, just like all the rest of, the Americans who are stranded here.
+
+I feel terribly restless for work. I don't know how to loaf, never
+did. I'd go to work here at something, but I feel if I did, it would
+just mean that these Prussians could then spare one more man for
+their butchery, and I will at least not help them that much. Your
+mother and I are on the street a great deal. We walk up and down and
+go in and out of shops and sit in the parks. I keep moving as much as
+possible, not only because I am so restless but because I like to keep
+the stupid spy who is set to watch over me as busy as possible. He has
+some weird notion that I do not know he is ever near me. I keep up the
+farce and I give him many anxious moments. Yesterday I wrote limericks
+and nonsense verses on letter paper and made little boats of them and
+sent them sailing on the lake in the park. If you could have seen this
+man's excitement. He called in an accomplice and they fished out the
+boats and carefully concealing them, they got hold of a third spy to
+take them to the chief. I wonder what they made of:
+
+    "The Window has Four little Panes:
+        But One have I.
+      The Window Panes are in its Sash,--
+        I wonder why!"
+
+or this:
+
+     "I wish that my Room had a Floor--
+      I don't so much care for a Door,
+          But this walking around
+          Without touching the ground
+      Is getting to be quite a bore!"
+
+I only wish I could see the translations of these foolish rhymes that
+must have been made before they could decide whether or not I had a bomb
+up my sleeve to put the Kaiser out with. Fancy this in German:
+
+     "The poor benighted Hindoo,
+      He does the best he kindo;
+            He sticks to caste
+            From first to last;
+      For pants he makes his skindo."
+
+Some of the ships sank and they had to get a boat hook and raise them.
+My nonsense seems to have had its effect. I saw in this morning's paper
+that some of the foreigners held in Berlin have gone crazy. I believe
+they mean me. I must think up some more foolishness. I feel that the
+more I occupy this spy who has me in charge, the better it is for the
+Allies. I try to be neutral but my stomach is rebelling at German food,
+and who can be neutral with a prejudiced stomach?
+
+We are trying to cook in our room. You know what a wonder your little
+mumsy is at knocking up an omelette and making coffee and what not, and
+we also find it is much more economical to eat there all we can. When we
+are there, we are out of sight of the spy, who, of course, can't help
+his job, but neither can I help wanting to kick his broad bean. He is
+such a block-head. He reminds me of the Mechanician Man, in our comic
+papers: "Brains he has nix." He is evidently doing just exactly what he
+has been wound up and set to do. I can't quite see why I should be such
+an important person that I should need a whole spy to myself. I can't
+get out of Berlin unless I fly out and I see no chance of that.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+I have had my interview with the Ambassador. He sent for me, and the
+wonderful thing was that it was because of the ball you had set rolling
+in Paris. When one Ambassador gets in communication with another
+Ambassador, even when it is about as unimportant a thing as I am, there
+is something doing immediately. You must have made a hit, honey, with
+the powers in France, they got busy so fast. It seems that the Imperial
+Government is very leary about me. My being an American is the only
+thing that keeps me out of prison. They are kind of scared to put me
+there, but they won't let me go. I had to wait an hour even after I got
+sent for, and I enjoyed it thoroughly because it was raining hard and
+blowing like blazes and I knew that my bodyguard was having to take it.
+Indeed I could see him all the time across the strasse looking anxiously
+at the door where he had seen me disappear. I also had the delight of
+reading a two weeks old American newspaper that a very nice young clerk
+slipped to me. I suppose the American Legation gets its newspaper, war
+or no.
+
+Nothing can be done for me as yet. I have been very imprudent in my
+behaviour, reprehensible, in fact. The paper boats were most ill
+advised, especially the one that goes: "My Window has Four little
+Panes." That is something to do with maps and a signal, it seems. "The
+Window Panes are in its Sash," is most suggestive of information. Ah,
+well! They can't do more than just keep us here, and if our money gives
+out, it will be up to them to feed us. The time may come when I will be
+glad to get even blood pudding, but I can't think it.
+
+Your poor little mumsy, in spite of the years she has spent with me
+roughing it, still has a dainty appetite, and I believe she would as
+soon eat a live rat, as blood pudding or raw goose. She makes out with
+eggs and salad and coffee and toast. So far, provisions are plentiful.
+It is only our small purse that makes us go easy on everything. But if
+the war goes on (which, God willing, it will do, as a short war will
+mean the Germans are victorious), I can't see how provisions will remain
+plentiful. What is England doing, anyhow? She must be doing something,
+but she is doing it very slowly.
+
+Your being in Paris is a source of much uneasiness to us, but I can't
+say that I blame you. You are too much like me to want to get out of
+excitement. I feel sure you will take care of yourself and now that the
+French are waltzing in at such a rate, I have no idea that the Germans
+will ever reach Paris. After all, this letter is to be taken by a lady
+who is at the American Legation and mailed to Mrs. Edwin Green and
+through her sent to you. They could not get it directly to you in
+France, but no doubt it will finally reach you through your friend,
+Molly. I am trusting her to do it and I know she will do it if any one
+can, because she is certainly to be depended on to get her friends out
+of trouble. In the meantime, the Ambassador here is to communicate
+formally with the Ambassador in Paris, and he is to let you know that
+all is well with your innocent if imprudent parents. Of course, your
+mother could go home if she would, but you know her well enough to know
+she won't. In fact, there is some talk of making her go home, and she
+says if they start any such thing she is going to swear she can draw
+any map of Turkey that ever was known to man, and can do it with her
+eyes shut and her hands tied behind her.
+
+We both of us wish you were safe in Kentucky with your friends. We spend
+many nights talking of you and reproaching ourselves that we have left
+you so much to yourself. I don't see how we could help it in a way, but
+maybe I should have given up engineering and taken up preaching or been
+a tailor or something. Then I might have made a settled habitation for
+all of us. Your mumsy is writing you a long letter, too, so I must stop.
+She is quite disappointed not to use her clever scheme for getting the
+letter to you, and rather resents the lady at the Legation.
+
+                                                  Yours,
+                                                        BOBBY.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+AT THE TRICOTS'.
+
+
+It took one month and three days for Judy to get the above letter,
+but her mind was set somewhat at rest long before that time by the
+Ambassador himself, who had learned through his confrere in Berlin that
+Mr. and Mrs. Kean were safe and at large, although not allowed to leave
+Berlin.
+
+The daughter was so accustomed to her parents being in dangerous places
+that she did not feel so concerned about them as an ordinary girl would
+have felt for ordinary parents. Ever since she could remember, they had
+been camping in out-of-the-way places and making hair-breadth escapes
+from mountain wild cats and native uprisings and what not. She could not
+believe the Germans, whom she had always thought of as rather bovine,
+could turn into raging lions so completely.
+
+"Bobby will light on his feet!" she kept saying to herself until it
+became almost like a prayer. "No one could hurt Mamma. She will be
+protected just as children will be!" And then came terrible, exaggerated
+accounts of the murder in cold blood of little children, and then the
+grim truth of the destruction of Louvain and Rheims, and anything seemed
+possible.
+
+"A nation that could glory in the destruction of such beautiful things
+as these cathedrals will stop at nothing." But still she kept on saying:
+"Bobby will light on his feet! Bobby will light on his feet!" She no
+longer trusted the Germans, but she had infinite faith in the sagacity
+and cleverness of her father. He always had got himself out of difficult
+and tight places and he always would.
+
+In the meantime, money was getting very low. Try as she would to
+economize, excitement made her hungry and she must eat and eat three
+times a day.
+
+"If I only had Molly Brown's skill and could cook for myself!" she would
+groan as she tried to choke down the muddy concoction that she had just
+succeeded in brewing and was endeavoring to persuade herself tasted a
+little like coffee. She remembered with swimming eyes the beautiful
+little repasts they had had in the Bents' studio during that memorable
+winter.
+
+"Judy Kean, you big boob! I believe my soul you are going to bawl about
+a small matter of food. If the destruction of Louvain did not make you
+weep, surely muddy coffee ought not to bring tears to your eyes, unless
+maybe they are tears of shame."
+
+The truth of the matter was, Judy was lonesome and idle. She could not
+make up her mind to paint. Things were moving too fast and there was too
+much reality in the air. Art seemed unreal and unnecessary, somehow.
+"Great things will be painted after the war but not now," she would say.
+She carried her camera with her wherever she went and snapped up groups
+of women and children, soldiers kissing their old fathers, great ladies
+stopping to converse with the gamin of the street; anything and
+everything went into her camera. She spent more money on films than on
+food, in spite of her healthy hunger.
+
+On that morning in September as she cleared away the scraps from her
+meager breakfast, her eyes swimming from lonesomeness, appetite
+unappeased and a kind of nameless longing, she almost determined to
+throw herself on the mercy of the American Legation for funds to return
+to New York. The Americans had cleared out of Paris until there were
+very few left. Judy would occasionally see the familiar face of some art
+student she had known in the class, but those familiar faces grew less
+and less frequent.
+
+"There's the Marquise! I can always go to her, but I know she is taken
+up with her grief over Philippe's going a soldiering," she thought as
+she put her plate and cup back on the shelf where the Bents kept their
+assortment of china.
+
+A knock at the door! Who could it be? No mail came to her and no
+friends were left to come.
+
+"Mam'selle!" and bowing low before her was the lean old partner of St.
+Cloud, Pere Tricot. "Mam'selle, my good wife and I, as well as our poor
+little daughter-in-law, we all want you to come and make one of our
+humble menage."
+
+"Want me!" exclaimed Judy, her eyes shining.
+
+"Yes, Mam'selle," he said simply. "We have talked it over and we think
+you are too young to be so much alone and then if--the--the--well, I
+have too much respect for Mam'selle to call their name,--if they do get
+in Paris, I can protect you with my own women. I am not so old that I
+cannot hit many a lick yet--indeed, I would enlist again if they would
+have me; but my good wife says they may need me more here in Paris and I
+must rest tranquilly here and do the work for France that I can best do.
+Will you come, Mam'selle?"
+
+"Come! Oh, Pere Tricot, I'll be too glad to come. When?"
+
+"Immediately!"
+
+Judy's valise was soon packed and the studio carefully locked, the key
+handed over to the concierge, and she was arm in arm with her old
+friend on her way to her new home in the little shop on the Boulevarde
+Montparnasse.
+
+Mere Tricot, who looked like a member of the Commune but acted like a
+dear, kindly old Granny, took the girl to her bosom.
+
+"What did I tell you? I knew she would come," she cried to her husband,
+who had hurried into the shop to wait on a customer. It was a
+delicatessen shop and very appetizing did the food look to poor Judy,
+who felt as though she had never eaten in her life.
+
+"Tell me!" he exclaimed as he weighed out cooked spinach to a small
+child who wanted two sous' worth. "Tell me, indeed! You said Mam'selle
+would not walk on the street with an old peasant in a faded blouse if
+she would come at all, and I--I said Mam'selle was what the Americans
+call a good sport and would walk on the street with an old peasant, if
+she liked him, in any kind of clothes he happened to be in, rags even.
+Bah! You were wrong and I was right."
+
+The old Tricots were forever wrangling but it was always in a
+semi-humorous manner, and their great devotion to each other was always
+apparent. Judy found it was better never to take sides with either one
+as the moment she did both of them were against her.
+
+How homelike the little apartment was behind the shops! It consisted of
+two bed rooms, a living room which opened into the shop and a tiny tiled
+kitchen about the size of a kitchen on a dining car--so tiny that it
+seemed a miracle that all the food displayed so appetizingly in the
+windows and glass cases of the shop should have been prepared there.
+
+"It is so good of you to have me and I want to come more than I can say,
+but you must let me board with you. I couldn't stay unless you do."
+
+"That is as you choose, Mam'selle," said the old woman. "We do not want
+to make money on you, but you can pay for your keep if you want to."
+
+"All right, Mother, but I must help some, help in the shop or mind the
+baby, clean up the apartment, anything! I can't cook a little bit, but I
+can do other things."
+
+"No woman can cook," asserted old Tricot. "They lack the touch."
+
+"Ah! Braggart! If I lay thee out with this pastry board, I'll not lack
+the touch," laughed the wife. She was making wonderful little tarts with
+crimped edges to be filled with assortments of confiture.
+
+"Let me mind the shop, then. I know I can do that."
+
+"Well, that will not be bad," agreed old Tricot. "While Marie (the
+daughter-in-law) washes the linen and you make the tarts, Mam'selle can
+keep the shop, but no board must she pay. I'll be bound new customers
+will flock to us to buy of the pretty face." Judy blushed with pleasure
+at the old peasant's compliment.
+
+"And thou, laggard and sloth! What will thou do while the women slave?"
+
+"I--Oh, I will go to the Tabac's to see what news there is, and later
+to see if Jean is to the front."
+
+"Well, we cannot hear from Jean to-day and Paris can still stand without
+thy political opinion," but she laughed and shoved him from the shop, a
+very tender expression on her lined old face.
+
+"These men! They think themselves of much importance," she said as she
+resumed her pastry making.
+
+Having tied a great linen apron around Judy's slender waist (much
+slenderer in the last month from her economical living), and having
+instructed her in the prices of the cooked food displayed in the show
+cases, Mere Tricot turned over the shop to her care. The rosy baby was
+lying in a wooden cradle in the back of the little shop and the
+grandmother was in plain view in the tiny kitchen to be seen beyond the
+living room.
+
+"Well, I fancy I am almost domesticated," thought Judy. "What an
+interior this would make--baby in foreground and old Mother Tricot on
+through with her rolling pin. Light fine! I've a great mind to paint
+while I am keeping shop, sketch, anyhow."
+
+She whipped out her sketch book and sketched in her motive with sure and
+clever strokes, but art is long and shops must be kept. Customers began
+to pile in. The spinach was very popular and Judy became quite an adept
+in dishing it out and weighing it. Potato salad was next in demand and
+cooked tongue and rosbif disappeared rapidly. Many soldiers lounged in,
+eating their sandwiches in the shop. Judy enjoyed her morning greatly
+but she could not remember ever in her life having worked harder.
+
+When the tarts were finished and displayed temptingly in the window,
+swarms of children arrived. It seemed that Mere Tricot's tarts were
+famous in the Quarter. More soldiers came, too. Among them was a face
+strangely familiar to the amateur shop girl. Who could it be? It was the
+face of a typical Boulevardier: dissipated, ogling eyes; black moustache
+and beard waxed until they looked like sharp spikes; a face not homely
+but rather handsome, except for its expression of infinite conceit and
+impertinence.
+
+"I have never seen him before, I fancy. It is just the type that is
+familiar to me," she thought. "_Mais quel type!_"
+
+Judy was looking very pretty, with her cheeks flushed from the
+excitement of weighing out spinach and salad, making change where sous
+were thought of as though they were gold and following the patois of the
+peasants that came to buy and the argot of the gamin. She had donned a
+white cap of Marie's which was most becoming. Judy, always ready to act
+a part, with an instinctive dramatic spirit had entered into the role of
+shop keeper with a vim that bade fair to make the Tricots' the most
+popular place on Boulevarde Montparnasse. Her French had fortunately
+improved greatly since her arrival in Paris more than two years before
+and now she flattered herself that one could not tell she was not
+Parisienne.
+
+The soldier with the ogling eyes and waxed moustache lingered in the
+shop when his companions had made their purchases and departed. He
+insisted upon knowing the price of every ware displayed. He asked her to
+name the various confitures in the tarts, which she did rather wearily
+as his persistence was most annoying. She went through the test,
+however, with as good a grace as possible. Shop girls must not be
+squeamish, she realized.
+
+One particularly inviting gooseberry tart was left on the tray. Judy had
+had her eye on it from the first and trembled every time a purchaser
+came for tarts. She meant to ask Mere Tricot for it, if only no one
+bought it. And now this particularly objectionable customer with his
+rolling black eyes and waxed moustache was asking her what kind it was!
+Why did he not buy what he wanted and leave?
+
+"_Eh? Qu'est-ce que c'est?_" he demanded with an amused leer as he
+pointed a much manicured forefinger at that particularly desirable tart.
+
+Judy was tired and the French for gooseberry left her as is the way with
+an acquired language. Instead of _groseille_ which was the word she
+wanted, she blurted out in plain English:
+
+"Gooseberry jam!"
+
+"Ah, I have bean pense so mooch. You may spick ze Eengleesh with me,
+Mees. Gueseberry jaam! Ha, ha! An' now, Mees, there iss wan question I
+should lak a demande of the so beootifool demoiselle: what iss the prize
+of wan leetle kees made in a so lufly tart?" He leaned over the counter,
+his eyes rolling in a fine frenzy.
+
+Where was Mere Tricot now? What a fine time to brandish her pastry
+board! Gone to the innermost recesses of the apartment with the rosy
+baby! Suddenly Judy remembered exactly where she had seen that silly
+face before.
+
+"At Versailles, the day I got on the wrong train!" flashed through her
+mind. She remembered well the hateful creature who had sat on the bench
+by her and insulted her with his attentions. She remembered how she had
+jumped up from the bench and hurried off, forgetting her package of
+gingerbread, bought at St. Cloud, and how the would-be masher had run
+after her with it, saying in his insinuating manner: "You have forgot
+your _gouter, cherie_. Do you like puddeen very much, my dear?"
+
+It was certainly the same man. His soldier's uniform made him somewhat
+less of a dandy than his patent leather boots and lemon coloured gloves
+had done on that occasion, but the dude was there in spite of the change
+of clothes. On that day at Versailles she had seized the gingerbread and
+jammed it in her mouth, thereby disgusting the fastidious Frenchman. She
+had often told the story and her amused hearers had always declared that
+her presence of mind was much to be commended.
+
+The soldier leaned farther and farther over the counter still demanding:
+"A leetle kees made in so lufly a tart."
+
+Ha! An inspiration! Judy grasped the desired gooseberry tart and thrust
+the whole thing into her mouth. There was no time to ask the leave of
+Mere Tricot.
+
+"_Ah quelle betise!_" exclaimed the dandy, and at the same moment he,
+too, remembered the young English demoiselle at Versailles. He
+straightened up and into his ogling eyes came a spark of shame. With a
+smile that changed his whole countenance he saluted Judy.
+
+"Pardon, Mademoiselle!"
+
+Judy's mouth was too full to attempt French but she managed to say in
+her mother tongue:
+
+"Why do you come in a respectable place like this and behave just like
+a Prussian?"
+
+"Prussian! Ah, Mademoiselle, excuse, excuse. I--the beauty of the
+_boutiquier_ made me forget _la Patrie_. I have been a roue, a fool. I
+am henceforth a Frenchman. Mademoiselle iss wan noble ladee. She efen
+mar her so great beauty to protec her dignitee. I remember ze _pain
+d'epice_ at Versailles and _la grande bouchee_. Mademoiselle has _le bel
+esprit_, what you call Mericanhumor. _Au revoir, Mademoiselle_," and
+with a very humble bow he departed, without buying anything at all.
+
+The Tricots laughed very heartily when Judy told them her experience.
+
+"I see you can take care of yourself," said Pere Tricot with a nod of
+approval. "If the Prussians come, they had better look out."
+
+"Do you forgive me for eating the last gooseberry tart?" she asked of
+Mere Tricot. "I was very glad of the excuse to get it before some one
+bought it from under my very nose."
+
+Mother Tricot not only forgave her but produced another one for her that
+she had kept back for the guest she seemed to delight to honour.
+
+"Our _boutiquier_ has sold out the shop," declared the old man. "I shall
+have to go to market very early in the morning to get more provisions
+cooked."
+
+"Ah, another excuse for absenting thyself!"
+
+"Oh, please, may I go with you?" begged Judy.
+
+"It will mean very early rising, but I shall be so pleased," said the
+delighted old man, and his wife smiled approval.
+
+It was arranged that Judy was to sleep on a couch in the living room.
+This suited her exactly, as she was able after the family had retired to
+rise stealthily and open a window. The French peasant and even the
+middle class Parisian is as afraid of air in a bedroom as we would be
+of a rattlesnake. They sleep as a rule in hermetically sealed chambers
+and there is a superstition even among the enlightened of that city that
+night air will give one some peculiar affection of the eyes. How they
+keep as healthy as they do is a wonder to those brought up on fresh air.
+Judy had feared that her sleeping would have to be done in the great bed
+with Marie and the baby and welcomed the proposition of the couch in the
+living room with joy. There was a smell of delicatessen wares but it was
+not unpleasing to one who had been economizing in food for so many days.
+
+"I'd rather smell spinach than American Beauties," she said to herself,
+"and potato salad beats potpourri."
+
+Her couch was clean and the sheets smelled of lavender. Marie, the
+little daughter-in-law, had been a _blanchisseuse de fin_ before she
+became the bride of Jean Tricot. She still plied her trade on the family
+linen and everything she touched was snow white and beautifully ironed.
+The clothes were carried by her to the public laundry; there she washed
+them and then brought them home to iron.
+
+As Judy lay on the soft, clean couch, sniffing the mingled smells of
+shop and kitchen and fresh sheets, she thanked her stars that she was
+not alone in the Bents' studio, wondering what she was to do about
+breakfast and a little nervous at every sound heard during the night.
+
+Even the bravest feels a little squeamish when absolutely alone through
+the long night. Judy was brave, her father's own daughter, but those
+nights alone in the studio in Rue Brea had got on her nerves. It was
+just so much harder because of the gay, jolly winter spent in the place.
+
+     "I feel like one who treads alone
+      Some banquet hall, deserted,"
+
+expressed her sentiments exactly. Once she dreamed that Molly Brown was
+standing over her with a cup of hot coffee, which was one of Molly's
+ways. She was always spoiling people and often would appear at the
+bed side with matutinal coffee. The dream came after a particularly
+lonesome evening. She thought that as Molly stood over her, her hand
+shook and some of the coffee splashed on her face. She awoke with a
+start to find her face wet with hot tears.
+
+Here at the Tricots, life was quite different. Mere and Pere Tricot were
+playing a happy duet through the night with comfortable snores. Marie
+could be heard cooing to her baby as she nursed it and the baby making
+inarticulate gurgles of joy at being nourished. The feeling of having
+human beings near by was most soothing. Judy did not mind the snores,
+but rejoiced in them. Even when the baby cried, as it did once in the
+night, she smiled happily.
+
+"I am one of a family!" she exclaimed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+A MOTHER'S FAITH.
+
+
+"Edwin, Kent has been gone over two weeks now and not one word from
+him," announced Molly when Mr. Bud Woodsmall had come and gone, leaving
+no mail of any great importance. "I can see Mother is very uneasy,
+although she doesn't say a word."
+
+"What was the name of his steamer?" asked the professor as he opened his
+newspaper. "I wouldn't worry. Mail is pretty slow and it would take a
+very fast boat to land him at Havre and have a letter back this soon."
+
+Edwin spoke a little absent-mindedly for the Greens were very busy
+getting ready for their yearly move to Wellington College and time for
+newspaper reading was at a premium.
+
+"But he was to cable."
+
+"Oh! And what was the name of the steamer?"
+
+"_L'Hirondelle de Mer_, swallow of the sea. I fancy it must mean flying
+fish. Paul says it is a small merchantman, carrying a few passengers."
+
+"_L'Hirondelle de Mer?_" Edwin's voice sounded so faint that Molly
+stopped packing books and looked up, startled.
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"It may be a mistake," he faltered.
+
+Molly jumped up from the box of books and read over her husband's
+shoulder the terrible headlines announcing the sinking of the small
+merchantman _L'Hirondelle de Mer_ by a German submarine. No warning
+was given and it was not known how many of the crew or passengers had
+escaped. The news was got from a boat-load of half-drowned seamen picked
+up by an English fishing smack. The cargo was composed of pork and beef.
+
+Molly read as long as her filling eyes would permit, and then she sank
+on her knees by her husband's chair and gave way to the grief that
+overcame her.
+
+"Oh, Molly darling! It may be all right. Kent is not the kind to get
+lost if there is any way out of it."
+
+"But he would be saving others and forget himself."
+
+"Yes, but see--or let me see for you--it says no women or children on
+board."
+
+"Thank God for that!--And now I must go to Mother."
+
+"Yes, and I will go with you--but we must go with the idea of making
+your mother feel it is all right--that Kent is saved."
+
+"Yes--and I truly believe he is! I couldn't have been as happy for the
+last few days as I have been if--if--Kent----" She could say no more.
+
+Edwin held her for a moment in his arms and then called to Kizzie to
+look after little Mildred, who lay peacefully sleeping in her basket,
+blissfully ignorant of the trouble in the atmosphere.
+
+"Look! There's Mother coming through the garden! She knows! I can tell
+by the way she holds her head."
+
+"My children! You were coming to me. You know, then?"
+
+"Yes, Mother! But Edwin and I think Kent is too strong and active
+to--to----"
+
+"I know he is safe," declared the intrepid mother. "I am as sure of it
+as though he were here in the garden of Chatsworth standing by me. One
+of my children could not have passed away without my being conscious of
+it." She spoke in an even, clear tone and her countenance was as one
+inspired.
+
+"Oh, Mother! That is what I felt, too. I could not have been so--so
+happy if anything awful had happened to Kent."
+
+Edwin Green was very thankful that the women in his family could take
+this view of the matter, but not feeling himself to be gifted with
+second sight, he determined to find out for sure as soon as possible
+what had become of his favorite brother-in-law. He accordingly
+telegraphed a night letter to Jimmy Lufton in New York to get busy as
+quickly as possible, sparing no expense, and find out if the Americans
+on board the vessel were saved.
+
+No doubt my readers will remember that Jimmy Lufton was the young
+newspaper man whom Edwin Green had feared as a rival, and now that he
+had won the prize himself, his feeling for that young man was one of
+kindliness and pity.
+
+Answer came: a stray sailor had reported that he had seen the submarine
+take on board two of the passengers who were battling with the heavy
+sea. Whether Kent was one of them, he could not tell.
+
+There were days of anxious waiting. Molly and Edwin went on with the
+preparations for their flitting, but could not leave Mrs. Brown until
+she had assurance of the safety of her beloved son. That lady continued
+in the belief that all was well with him, in spite of no news.
+
+Aunt Clay came over to Chatsworth to remonstrate with her younger sister
+over what she called her obstinacy.
+
+"Why should you persist in the assertion that you would know if anything
+had happened to your son? We all know that things happen all the time
+and persons near to them go on in ignorance of the accidents. For my
+part, I think it is indecent for you and your daughters to be flaunting
+colours as you are. You should order your mourning and have services for
+those lost at sea."
+
+As Mrs. Brown's flaunting of colors consisted of one lavender scarf that
+Nance Oldham had knitted for her, this was, to say the least,
+unnecessary of Sister Clay.
+
+Molly, who was present when the above unfeeling remarks were made,
+trembled with rage and wept with misery; but not so Mrs. Brown.
+
+"I don't agree with you," she said with a calmness that astonished her
+daughter.
+
+"Well, if Kent is alive, why does he not communicate with you? He is
+certainly careless of you to leave you in ignorance for all of this
+time."
+
+Molly noticed with a kind of fierce joy that her mother's head was now
+held very high and her sensitive nostrils were a-quiver. "Her nose was
+a-wuckin'," as Aunt Mary put it.
+
+"Careless of _me_! Kent! Sister Sarah, you are simply speaking with
+neither sense nor feeling. It has been your own fault that you have not
+obtained the love and affection of my children and so you wish to
+insinuate that they are careless of me. My son will let me know where he
+is as soon as he can. I already know he is alive and safe. You ask me
+how I know it! I can only say I know it." This was said with so much
+fire that Aunt Clay actually seemed to shrink up. She bullied Mrs. Brown
+up to a certain point, but when that point reached criticism of one of
+her children, woe betide Aunt Clay.
+
+Molly, whose certainty of Kent's being alive was beginning to grow weak
+and dim with the weary days, felt new strength from her mother's brave
+words. Edwin Green was forced to leave for the opening of Wellington,
+but Molly closed the bungalow and brought little Mildred over to
+Chatsworth, there to wait with her mother for some definite news.
+
+Old Aunt Mary was a great comfort to them. She shared in their belief
+that their dear boy was alive.
+
+"Cose nothin' ain't happened ter that there Kent. Didn't he tell me he
+was a goin' ter Parus ter bring home that Judy gal? The Dutch ain't a
+goin' ter do nothin' ter a kind faceded pusson like our Kent. As fer
+drowndin'! Shoo! I done hear Lewis say that Kent kin outswim de whole er
+Jeff'son County. He kin swim to Indiany an' back thout ever touchin'
+lan', right over yander by the water wucks whar the riber is mo'n a
+mile. An' waves! Why, Lewis say whin the big stern wheelers is a jes'
+churnin' up the riber till it looks like the yawnin' er grabes at
+Jedgement Day that Kent would jes' laff at them an' plunge right through
+jes' lak a feesh. An' I do hear tell that the waters er the mighty deep
+is salty an' that makes me know that Kent ain't goin' ter sink. Don't we
+tes' the brine fer pickles wif a aig? An' don't the aig float? An' if'n
+the mighty deep is called the briny deep don't that mean it kin float a
+aig? What kin float a aig kin float a young man what already knows how
+ter swim crost an' back on the 'Hier Riber."
+
+Julia Kean's second letter came, also the one from her father in Molly's
+care. Molly immediately sent it to the American Club in Paris. Judy's
+letter certainly had nothing in it to reassure them as to her safety,
+except the meeting with the old man with whom she had danced at St.
+Cloud.
+
+"It means that Judy is able to make friends wherever she goes, and as
+she says, she can always light on her feet, somehow," sighed Molly. She
+did not add what was in her mind: "If she had only come home with Kent!"
+
+"Mother, I must write to Judy now that I have some kind of address. Must
+I tell her?"
+
+"Yes, my dear, tell her all we know, but tell her of our conviction that
+all is well. I will write to her myself, on second thought."
+
+John and Paul both spent every night at Chatsworth now, although it
+meant very early rising for both of them and often a midnight arrival
+or departure for Dr. John, whose practice was growing but seemed to
+be restricted to persons who persisted in being taken very ill in the
+night.
+
+"It is because so many of them are charity patients or semi-charity and
+they always want to get all they can," he would declare. "Of course, a
+doctor's night rates are higher than day rates, and when they are
+getting something for nothing, if they call me up at two a. m. they are
+getting more for nothing than they would be if they had their toe aches
+in the day time."
+
+Ten days had passed since the half-drowned sailors had been picked up by
+the English fishing smack, and still no message from Kent.
+
+Mrs. Brown wrote and dispatched her letter to Judy Kean. It was a hard
+letter to write, much harder than it would have been had there been an
+engagement between the two. The good lady felt that Judy was almost like
+a daughter and still it required something more than existed to address
+her as one. She must convey to Judy the news that Kent was shipwrecked,
+and still she wanted to put in the girl's heart the faith she had in his
+safety.
+
+"Poor Judy! If she is alone in Paris, think what it will mean for this
+news to reach her!" Molly agonized to herself. "She may and may not care
+for Kent enough to marry him, but she certainly is devoted to him as a
+friend. She will feel it just so much more keenly because he was on his
+way to her."
+
+Molly could not sleep in her great anxiety, and her faith and the
+certainty of Kent's safety left her. "I must keep up for Mildred's
+sake," she would cry as she tried to choke down food. Her every endeavor
+was to hide this loss of faith from her mother, whose belief in her
+son's being alive and well never seemed to falter.
+
+Daily letters from Edwin were Molly's one comfort. He was back in the
+grind of lectures at Wellington and was missing sorely his wife and
+child.
+
+"Molly darling, you mustn't wait any longer in Kentucky," her mother
+said at breakfast one morning. Molly was trying to dispose of a glass of
+milk and a soft boiled egg, although her throat seemed to close at the
+thought of food.
+
+"But, Mother, I wouldn't leave you for anything in the world," she
+declared, making a successful gulp which got rid of the milk, at least.
+
+"Your husband needs you, child, and I know it would be best for you.
+There is no use in waiting."
+
+Molly looked up, startled. Had her mother, too, lost heart? Her face had
+grown thinner in those days of waiting and her hair was quite grey, in
+fact, silvery about the temples; but her eyes still held the light of
+faith and high resolve.
+
+"She still has faith! And you, Molly Brown Green! Oh, ye of little
+faith! What right have you to be a clog and burden? Take another glass
+of milk this minute and keep up your health and your baby's health."
+This to herself, and aloud: "Why, Mumsy, I want to stay right here.
+Little Mildred is thriving and Edwin is doing very well at Wellington.
+Every one is asking him out to dine, now that he is untrammelled with a
+wife. He reports a big gain in attendance on last semestre and is as
+cheerful as can be. Caroline, please bring me another glass of milk, and
+I think I'll get you to soft boil another egg for me!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+DES HALLES.
+
+
+Mere Tricot called Judy just at dawn. The kindly old grenadier stood
+over her, and this was no dream--she held a real cup of coffee.
+
+"The good man is ready. I hate to wake you, but if you want to go to
+market with him, it is time."
+
+"Oh, yes! It won't take me a minute."
+
+Judy gulped the coffee and dived into her clothes. There seemed to
+be no question of baths with the good Tricots, and Judy made a mental
+note that she would go every day to the Bents' studio for her cold
+plunge. A bathroom is the exception and not the rule in the poorer
+class of apartments in Paris. In New York, any apartment worthy of the
+name boasts a bathroom, but not so in the French city.
+
+Pere Tricot was waiting for her with his little green push cart to
+bring home the purchases to be made in market. He was dressed in a
+stiff, clean, blue blouse and his kindly, lank old face was freshly
+shaven.
+
+"Ah, Mam'selle! So you will go with the old man?"
+
+"Go with you! Of course I will! I love the early morning, and the market
+will be beautiful."
+
+The streets were very quiet and misty. Paris never gets up very early,
+and as the cold weather comes, she lies abed later and later. The
+Gardens of the Luxembourg were showing signs of frost, or was it heavy
+dew? The leaves had begun to drop and some of them had turned.
+
+There was a delightful nip in the air and as Judy and the old man
+trudged along, the girl felt really happy, happier than she had for many
+a day. "It must be having a home that is doing it," she thought. "Maybe
+I am a domestic person, after all.
+
+"Pere Tricot, don't you love your home?"
+
+"My home! You don't think that that shop in Boulevard Montparnasse is my
+home, eh?"
+
+"But where is your home then?"
+
+"Ah, in Normandy, near Roche Craie! That is where I was born and hope to
+die. We are saving for our old age now and will go back home some day,
+the good wife and I. Jean and Marie can run the shop, that is, if----"
+
+Judy knew he meant if Jean came through the war alive.
+
+"The city is not for me, but it seemed best to bring Jean here when he
+was little. There seemed no chance to do more than exist in the country,
+and here we have prospered."
+
+"I have visited at Roche Craie. I think it is beautiful country. No
+wonder you want to go back. The d'Ochtes were my friends there."
+
+"The Marquis d'Ochte! Oh, Mam'selle, and to think of your being their
+guest and then mine!" Judy could have bitten out her tongue for saying
+she had visited those great folk. She could see now that the dear old
+man had lost his ease in her presence. "They are the greatest
+landowners of the whole department."
+
+"Yes, but they are quite simple and very kind. I got to know them
+through some friends of mine who were related to the Marquise. She, you
+know, was an American."
+
+"Yes, and a kind, great lady she is. Why, it was only day before
+yesterday she was in our shop. She makes a rule to get what she can from
+us for her household. She has a chef who can make every known sauce, but
+he cannot make a tart like my good wife's. We furnish all the tarts of
+the d'Ochtes when they are in Paris. Madame, the Marquise, is also
+pleased to say that my _pouree d'epinard_ is smoother and better than
+Gaston's, and only yesterday she bought a tray of it for their _dejeuner
+a la fourchette_. Her son Philippe is flying. The Marquis, too, is with
+his regiment."
+
+"How I wish I could have seen her!"
+
+"Ah, then, Mam'selle would not be ashamed for the Marquise to see her
+waiting in the shop of poor Tricot?"
+
+"Ashamed! Why, Pere Tricot, what do you take me for? I am only too glad
+to help some and to feel that I can do something besides look on," and
+Judy, who had been walking on the sidewalk while her companion pushed
+his _petite voiture_ along the street, stepped down into the gutter and
+with her hand on the shaft went the rest of the way, helping to push the
+cart.
+
+As they approached the market, they were joined by more and more
+pedestrians, many of them with little carts, similar to Pere Tricot's
+and many of them with huge baskets. War seemed to be forgotten for the
+time being, so bent were all of them on the business of feeding and
+being fed.
+
+"One must eat!" declared a pleasant fat woman in a high stiff white cap.
+"If Paris is to be entered to-morrow by the Prussians, I say we must be
+fed and full. There is no more pleasure in dying for your country empty
+than full."
+
+"Listen to the voice of the Halles, Mam'selle. Can't you hear it
+roaring? Ah! and there is the bell of St. Eustache."
+
+The peal of bells rose above the hum of the market.
+
+"St. Eustache! Can't we go into the church a little while first?"
+
+And so, hand in hand with the old Normandy peasant, Judy Kean walked
+into the great old church, and together they knelt on the flagged floor
+and prayed. Judy never did anything by halves, not even praying. When
+she prayed, she did it with a fervor and earnestness St. Anthony himself
+would have envied. When they rose from their knees, they both looked
+happier. Old Tricot had prayed for his boy, so soon to be in the
+trenches, and Judy offered an impassioned petition for the safety of her
+beloved parents.
+
+When they emerged from the church, the sun was up and the market was
+almost like a carnival, except for the fact that the color was subdued
+somewhat by the mourning that many of the women wore.
+
+"Already so many in mourning!" thought the girl. "What will it be
+later?"
+
+"First the butter and eggs and cheese! This way, Mam'selle!"
+
+They wormed their way between the great yellow wagons unloading huge
+crates of eggs and giant cheeses. The smell of butter made Judy think
+of Chatsworth and the dairy where she had helped Caroline churn on her
+memorable visit to the Browns. Ah me! How glad she would be to see them
+again. And Kent! She had not let herself think of Kent lately. He must
+be angry with her for not taking his advice and listening to his
+entreaties to go back to the United States with him. He had not written
+at all and he must have been home several weeks. Maybe the letter had
+miscarried, but other letters had come lately; and he might even have
+cabled her. He certainly seemed indifferent to her welfare, as now that
+the war had broken out, he had not even inquired as to her safety or her
+whereabouts; not even let her know whether or not the job in New York
+had materialized.
+
+She was awakened from her musings by her old friend, who had completed
+his bargaining for cheese, butter and eggs and now was proceeding to
+the fish market.
+
+"I must buy much fish. It is Friday, you remember, and since the war
+started, religion has become the style again in France, and now fish,
+and only fish, must be eaten on Friday. There are those that say that
+the war will help the country by making us good again."
+
+And so, in a far corner of the cart, well away from the susceptible
+butter and cheese, many fish were piled up, fenced off from the rest of
+the produce by a wall of huge black mussels in a tangle of sea weed.
+
+"Well, there are fish enough in this market to regenerate the whole
+world, I should think," laughed Judy.
+
+The stalls were laden with them and row after row of scaly monsters hung
+from huge hooks in the walls. Men, women and boys were scaling and
+cleaning fish all along the curbings.
+
+"Soon there will be only women and boys for the work," thought Judy
+sadly, "and maybe it will not be so very long before there will be only
+women."
+
+Cabbages and cauliflowers were bought next (cauliflowers that Puddenhead
+Wilson says are only cabbages been to college); Brussels sprouts, too;
+and spinach enough to furnish red blood for the whole army, Judy
+thought; then chickens, turkeys and grouse; a great smoked beef tongue,
+and a hog head for souse. The little green wagon was running over now
+and its rather rickety wheels creaked complainingly.
+
+Old Tricot and Judy started homeward at as rapid a rate as the load
+would allow. Judy insisted upon helping push, and indeed her services
+were quite necessary over the rough cobbles. When they reached the
+smooth asphalt, she told Pere Tricot she would leave him for a moment
+and stop at the American Club in the hope of letters awaiting there for
+her.
+
+How sweet and fresh she looked as she waved her hand at the old man! Her
+cheeks were rosy, her eyes shining, and her expression so naive and
+happy that she looked like a little child.
+
+"Ah, gentile, gentile!" he murmured. His old heart had gone out to this
+brave, charming American girl. "And to think of her being friends with
+Madame the Marquise!" he thought. "That will be a nut for the good wife
+and Marie to crack."
+
+He pushed his cart slowly along the asphalt, rather missing the sturdy
+strength that Judy had put into the work. Then he sat on a bench to rest
+awhile, one of those nice benches that Paris dots her thoroughfares with
+and one misses so on coming back to United States.
+
+Paris was well awake now and bustling. The streets were full of
+soldiers. Old women with their carts laden with chrysanthemums were
+trudging along to take their stands at the corners. The air was filled
+with the pungent odors of their wares. Old Tricot stretched himself:
+
+"I must be moving! There is much food to be cooked to-day. It is time my
+Mam'selle was coming along. Ah, there she is!" He recognized the jaunty
+blue serge jacket and pretty little velour sport hat that Judy always
+knew at which angle to place on her fluffy brown hair. "But how slowly
+she is walking! And where are her roses? Her head is bent down like some
+poor French woman who has bad news from the trenches."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+THE AMERICAN MAIL.
+
+
+Judy had, clasped in her arms, a package of mail, unopened except for
+the letter on top, which was the one that poor, brave Mrs. Brown had
+written her. She had kept throughout the letter the same gallant spirit
+of belief in her son's safety, but Judy could not take that view.
+
+"Gone! Gone! and all because of poor miserable, no-account me!" her
+heart cried out in its anguish, but she shed no tear and made no sound.
+Her face, glowing with health and spirits only a few minutes ago, was
+now as pale as a ghost and her eyes had lost their sparkle.
+
+Pere Tricot hastened towards her as she came slowly down the street.
+
+"My dear little girl, what is it?"
+
+"He is drowned and all for me--just my stubbornness!"
+
+"Who? Your father?"
+
+"No!"
+
+"Your brother, then?"
+
+"I have no brother."
+
+"Ah, then, your sweetheart? Your fiance?"
+
+"I--I--sometime he might--that is, we were not fianced, not exactly."
+
+The old man drew her down on the bench beside him:
+
+"Now tell me all about it, _ma pauvre petite_."
+
+And Judy told him of her friends in Kentucky. Of Molly Brown and her
+brother Kent; of her own stubbornness in not leaving France when the war
+broke out; and then she translated Mrs. Brown's letter for him.
+
+"Ah, but the good lady does not think he is drowned!"
+
+"Yes, but she is so wonderful, so brave."
+
+"Well, are you not wonderful and brave, too? You must go on with your
+courage. If a mother can write as she has done and have faith in _le bon
+Dieu_, then you must try, too--that will make you worthy of such a
+_belle mere_. Does she not say that two passengers were seen to be
+saved by the enemy?"
+
+"Oh, Pere Tricot, you are good, good! I will try--if Kent's own mother
+can be so brave, why surely I must be calm, too, I, who am nothing to
+him."
+
+"Nothing? Ah, my dear Mam'selle, one who is nothing does not have young
+men take trips across the ocean for her. But look at the spinach wilting
+in the sun! We must hasten to get the cooking done."
+
+Poor Judy! All zest had gone out of the morning for her. She put her
+package of mail in the cart, not at all caring if it got at the fishy
+end, and wearily began to push. Pere Tricot, well knowing that work was
+a panacea for sorrow, let her take her share of the burden, and together
+the old peasant in his stiff blue blouse and the sad young American girl
+trundled the provisions down the boulevard.
+
+"You have more letters, my daughter?"
+
+"Yes, I have not read them yet. I was afraid of more bad news."
+
+"Perhaps there is something from the mother and father."
+
+"No, the big one is from Molly and the others are just from various
+friends."
+
+When they reached the shop, of course Mere Tricot started in with her
+usual badinage directed against her life partner, but he soon tipped her
+a wink to give her to understand that Judy was in distress, and the kind
+old grenadier ceased her vituperation and went quietly to work washing
+spinach and making ready the fowls for the spit.
+
+Judy took her letters to a green bench in the diminutive court behind
+the apartment which passed for garden, with its one oleander tree and
+pots of geraniums. Her heart seemed to be up in her throat; at least,
+there was a strange pulsation there that must be heart. So this was
+sorrow! Strange to have lived as long as she had and never to have known
+what sorrow was before! The nearest she had ever come to sorrow was
+telling her mother and father good-by when they started on some perilous
+trip--but they had always come back, and she was used to parting with
+them.
+
+But Kent--maybe he would never come back! It was all very well for Mrs.
+Brown to refuse to believe in his being gone forever, but why should he
+be the one to be saved, after all? No doubt the passengers who were lost
+had mothers and--and what? Sweethearts--there she would say it! She was
+his sweetheart even though they were not really engaged. She knew it now
+for a certainty. Kent did not have to tell her what he felt for her, and
+now that it was too late, she knew what she felt for him. She knew now
+why she had been so lonesome. It was not merely the fact that war was
+going on and her friends were out of Paris--it was that she was longing
+for Kent. She understood now why she felt so homeless just at this time.
+She was no more homeless than she had always been, but now she wanted a
+home and she wanted it to be Kent's home, too. Fool! fool that she had
+been! Why hadn't she gone home like all the sensible Americans when war
+was declared? The Browns would never forgive her and she would never
+forgive herself. She read again Mrs. Brown's letter. How good she was to
+have been willing to have Kent turn right around and go back to Paris
+for that worthless Julia Kean. And now he was gone, and it was all her
+fault! Ah, me! Well, life must be lived, if all the color had gone out
+of it.
+
+She wearily opened the letter addressed in Molly's handwriting. It was
+from her father, and in it another from her mother, forwarded by Molly.
+At last she had heard from them. They, too, hoped she had gone back to
+America. Had taken for granted she had, since they had sent the letters
+to Molly. She read them over and over. The love they had for her was to
+be seen in every word. Never again would she part from them. How she
+longed for them! They would understand about Kent, even though she was
+not engaged to him. And now she knew what Bobby would advise her to do
+were he there in Paris: "Work! Work until you drop from it, but work!"
+
+Already the great range, that stretched the entire length of the tiny
+tiled kitchen, was filled with copper vessels, and appetizing odors were
+permeating the living room and the little shop beyond.
+
+"Let me help," said Judy bravely. "Must I mind the shop or do you need
+me here? I can't cook, but I can wash spinach and peel potatoes."
+
+"Marie can look after the shop this morning, my dear child, so you go
+rest yourself," said the good wife.
+
+"I don't want to rest! I want to work!"
+
+"Let her work, Mother! Let her work! It is best so," and Judy's old
+partner got the blue bowl, sacred to mayonnaise, and Judy sat on the
+bench in the court and stirred and stirred as she dropped the oil into
+the beaten egg. Her arm ached as the great smooth yellow mass grew
+thicker and thicker, but the more her arm ached, the less her heart
+ached. When the bowl was quite full, she started in on a great basket
+of potatoes that must be peeled, some for Saratoga chips and some for
+potato salad. Onions must be peeled, too, and then the spinach cleaned
+and chopped in a colander until it was a puree.
+
+The Tricots worked with a precision and ease that delighted Judy. She
+never tired of watching the grenadier turn out the wonderful little
+tarts. On that morning a double quantity was to be made as Marie was to
+carry a basket of them to "the regiment"; that, of course, meant Jean
+Tricot's regiment. They had not yet been ordered to the front, but were
+ready to go at any moment.
+
+The old woman put batch after batch in the great oven. They came out all
+done to a turn and all exactly alike, as though made by machinery. Then
+they were put in the show cases in the shop; and more were rolled out,
+filled and baked.
+
+"Sometime may I try to do some?"
+
+The old woman smiled indulgently at Judy's pale face.
+
+"You may try right now."
+
+Judy made a rather deformed batch but Mere Tricot declared the children
+would not know the difference, and they could be sold to them. "The
+soldats must have the prettiest and another time you can make them well
+enough for them."
+
+So far, Judy had not shed a tear. Her eyes felt dry and feverish and her
+heart was still beating in her throat in some mysterious way. Suddenly
+without a bit of warning the tears came. Splash! Splash! they dropped
+right on the tarts.
+
+"Never mind the tarts!" exclaimed the kindly grenadier. "Those must go
+to Jean's regiment. They will understand."
+
+"I could not help it," sobbed poor Judy. "I was thinking how proud Kent
+would be of me when he knew I could make tarts and wondering how many
+he could eat, when all of a sudden it came to me that he never would
+know--and--and--Oh, Mother Tricot!" and she buried her face on the bosom
+of the good old woman, who patted her with one hand and held her close
+while she adroitly whisked a pan of tarts from the oven with the other.
+
+"Tarts must not burn, no matter if hearts are broken!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+THE ZEPPELIN RAID.
+
+
+Judy's cry did her good, although it left her in such a swollen state
+she was not fit to keep shop, which was what she had planned to do for
+the afternoon.
+
+"I think I'll go round to the studio in Rue Brea for a little while. I
+want to get some things."
+
+What she really wanted was to get a bath and to be alone for a few
+hours. Her kind hosts thought it would be wise to let her do whatever
+she wanted, so they gave her God-speed but begged her not to be out
+late.
+
+Judy now longed for solitude with the same eagerness she had before
+longed for companionship. She knew it would be unwise for her to give
+up to this desire to any extent and determined to get back to her kind
+friends before dark, but be alone she must for a while. She got the key
+from the concierge and entered the studio. All was as she had left it.
+Windows and doors opened wide soon dispelled the close odor. A cold bath
+in the very attractive white porcelain tub, the pride of the Bents, made
+poor Judy feel better in spite of herself.
+
+"I don't want to feel better. I've been brave and noble all morning and
+now I want to be weak and miserable. I don't care whether school keeps
+or not. I am a poor, forlorn, broken-hearted girl, without any friends
+in all the world except some Normandy peasants. The Browns will all hate
+me, and my mother and father I may never see again. Oh, Kent! Kent! Why
+didn't you just pick me up and make me go with you? If you had been
+very, very firm, I'd have gone."
+
+Judy remembered with a grim smile how in old days at college she had
+longed to wear mourning and how absurd she had made herself by dyeing
+her hair and draping herself in black. "I'm going into mourning now. It
+is about all I can do for Kent. It won't cost much and somehow I'd feel
+better." Judy, ever visualizing, pictured herself in black with organdy
+collar and cuffs and a mournful, patient look. "I'll just go on selling
+tarts. It will help the Tricots and give me my board." She counted out
+her money, dwindled somewhat, but now that she was working she felt she
+might indulge her grief to the extent of a black waist and some white
+collars and cuffs. "I've got a black skirt and I'll get my blue suit
+dyed to-morrow. I'll line my black sport hat with white crepe. That will
+make it do." In pity for herself, she wept again.
+
+She slipped out of the studio and made her few purchases at a little
+shop around the corner. Madame, the proprietaire, was all sympathy. She
+had laid in an especial stock of cheap mourning, she told Judy, as there
+was much demand for it now.
+
+It took nimble fingers to turn the jaunty sport hat into a sad little
+mourning bonnet, but Judy was ever clever at hat making, and when
+she finished just before the sun set, she viewed her handiwork with
+pardonable pride. She slipped into her cheap black silk waist and pinned
+on the collar and cuffs. The hat was very becoming, so much so that
+Judy had another burst of tears.
+
+"I can't bear for it to be becoming. I want to look as ugly and forlorn
+as possible."
+
+She determined to leave her serge suit in the studio and come on the
+following day to take it to a dye shop. As she was to do this, she
+decided not to leave the key with the concierge but take it with her.
+
+Her kind friends looked sadly at the mourning. They realized when they
+saw it that Judy had given up all hope of her friend.
+
+"Ah, the pity of it! The pity of it!" exclaimed the old grenadier.
+
+Marie, whose apple-like countenance was not very expressive of anything
+but health, looked as sympathetic as the shape of her face would allow.
+Round rosy cheeks, round black eyes, and a round red mouth are not easy
+to mold into tragic lines, but Judy knew that Marie was feeling deeply
+for her. She was thinking of her Jean and the possibility of turning her
+bridal finery into mourning. There was so much mourning now and
+according to the _Temps_, the war was hardly begun.
+
+"I'll have my serge suit dyed to-morrow," Judy confided to her.
+
+"Ah, no! Do not have it dyed! Mere Tricot and I can do it here and do it
+beautifully. The butcher's wife over the way is dyeing to-morrow and she
+will give us some of her mixture. It is her little brother who fell only
+yesterday."
+
+That night there was great excitement in the Montparnasse quarter. A
+fleet of air ships circled over the city, dropping bombs as they flew.
+The explosions were terrific. The people cowered in their homes at first
+and then came rushing out on the streets as the noise subsided.
+
+Pere Tricot came back with the news that no great harm had been done,
+but it was his opinion that the Prussians had been after the Luxembourg.
+
+"They know full well that our art treasures are much to us, and they
+would take great pleasure in destroying them. The beasts!"
+
+"Where did the bombs strike?" asked Judy from her couch in the living
+room. She had wept until her pillow had to be turned over and then had
+at last sunk into a sleep of exhaustion only to be awakened by the
+ear-splitting explosions.
+
+"I don't know exactly, but it was somewhere over towards the Gardens of
+the Luxembourg. I thank the good God you were here with us, my child."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"L'HIRONDELLE DE MER."
+
+
+Kent Brown, when he reached New York on his return trip to Paris in
+quest of the rather wilful, very irritating, and wholly fascinating
+Judy, got his money changed into gold, which he placed in a belt worn
+under his shirt.
+
+"There is no telling what may happen," he said to the young Kentuckian,
+Jim Castleman, with whom he had struck up an acquaintance on the train.
+"Gold won't melt in the water if we do get torpedoed, and if I have it
+next me, whoever wants it will have to do some tearing off of clothes to
+get it. And what will I be doing while they are tearing off my clothes?"
+
+"Good idea! I reckon I'll do the same--not that I have enough to weigh
+myself down with." Castleman was on his way to France to fight.
+
+"I don't give a hang whether I fight with the English, French, Serbs
+or Russians, just so I get in a few licks on the Prussians." He was a
+strapping youth of six feet three with no more idea of what he was going
+up against than a baby. War was to him a huge football game and he
+simply meant to get into the game.
+
+The _Hirondelle_ was a slow boat but sailing immediately, so Kent and
+his new friend determined to take it, since its destination, Havre,
+suited them.
+
+"I like the name, too," declared Kent, who shared with his mother and
+Molly a certain poetic sentiment in spite of his disclaimer of any such
+foolishness.
+
+There were very few passengers, the boat being a merchantman. Kent and
+Jim were thrown more and more together and soon were as confidential as
+two school girls. Kent had been rather noncommittal in his replies at
+first to Jim's questions as to what his business was in the war zone at
+such a time if it were not fighting. As their friendship grew and
+deepened, as a friendship can on shipboard in an astonishingly short
+time, Kent was glad enough to talk about Judy and his mission in Paris.
+
+"She sounds like a corker! When is it to be?"
+
+"I don't know that it is to be, at all," blushed Kent. "You see, we are
+not what you might call engaged."
+
+"Your fault or hers?"
+
+"Why, we have just drifted along. Somehow I didn't like to tie her down
+until I could make good--and she--well, I believe she felt the same way;
+but of course I can't say. She knows perfectly well that I have never
+looked at another girl since I saw her at Wellington when she and my
+sister graduated there. She has--well,--browsed a little, but I don't
+think she ever meant anything by it. We get along like a house
+afire,--like the same things,--think the same way,--we have never talked
+out yet."
+
+"Well, if you'll excuse me, I think you were an ass not to settle the
+matter long before this."
+
+"Do you think so? Do you think it would have been fair? Why, man, I owed
+some money to my mother for my education in Paris and did not even have
+a job in sight!"
+
+"Pshaw! What difference does that make? Don't you reckon girls have as
+much spunk about such things as men have? If I ever see the girl I want
+bad enough to go all the way to Paris to get her, I'll tell her so and
+have an answer if I haven't a coat to my back."
+
+"Perhaps you are right. I just didn't want to be selfish."
+
+"Selfish! Why, they like us selfish."
+
+Kent laughed at the wisdom of the young Hercules. No doubt they (whoever
+"they" might be) did like Castleman selfish or any other way. He looked
+like a young god as he sprawled on deck, his great muscular white arm
+thrown over his head to keep the warm rays of the sun out of his eyes.
+His features were large and well cut, his hair yellow and curly in spite
+of the vigorous efforts he made to brush it straight. His eyes were blue
+and childlike with long dark lashes, the kind of eyes girls always
+resent having been portioned out to men. There was no great mentality
+expressed in his countenance but absolute honesty and good nature. One
+felt he was to be trusted.
+
+"Doesn't it seem strange to be loafing around here on this deck with no
+thought of war and of the turmoil we shall soon be in?" said Jim one
+evening at sunset when they were nearing their port. "We have only a
+day, or two days at most, before we will be in Paris, and still it is so
+quiet and peaceful out here that I can hardly believe there is any other
+life."
+
+"Me, too! I feel as though I had been born and bred on this boat. All
+the other things that have happened to me are like a dream and this life
+here on the good old _Hirondelle de Mer_ is the only real thing. I
+wonder if all the passengers feel this way."
+
+There were no women on board but the other passengers were Frenchmen,
+mostly waiters from New York, going home to fight for _la France_. The
+cargo was pork and beef, destined to feed the army of France.
+
+"What's that thing sticking up in the water out yonder?" exclaimed
+Kent. "It looks like the top of a mast just disappearing."
+
+"A wreck, I reckon!" exclaimed Jim.
+
+Kent smiled at his countryman's "reckon." Having been away from the
+South for many months, it sounded sweet to his ears. The "guess" of the
+Northerner and "fancy" of the Englishman did not mean the same to him.
+
+The lookout saw the mast-like object at the same time they noted it, and
+suddenly there was a hurrying and scurrying over the whole ship.
+
+"Look, it's sunk entirely out of sight! Jim Castleman, that's a German
+submarine!"
+
+The shock that followed only a moment afterwards was indescribable. It
+threw both of the Kentuckians down. They had hastened to the side of the
+vessel, the better to view the strange "thing sticking up out of the
+water."
+
+The boats were lowered very rapidly and filled by the crazed passengers
+and crew. The poor waiters had not expected to serve their country by
+drowning like rats. As for the crew,--they were noncombatants and
+not employed to serve any country in any way. They were of various
+nationality, many of them being Portuguese with a sprinkling of
+Scandinavians.
+
+"Here's a life preserver, Brown! Better put it on. This ain't the Ohio."
+
+"Good! I'll take my chances in the water any day rather than in one of
+those boats. Can you swim?"
+
+"Sure! I can do three miles without knowing it. And you?"
+
+"Hump! Brought up within a mile of the Ohio River and been going over to
+Indiana and back without landing ever since I was in pants."
+
+"Well, let's dive now and get clear of the sinking boat. If anything
+happens to me and you get clear, you write my sister in Lexington--she's
+all I have left."
+
+"All right, Jim! Let's shake. If I give out and you get through, please
+go get Judy and take her back to my mother."
+
+"That's a go! But see here, there is nothing going to happen to us if
+endurance will count for anything. Have you got on your money belt?"
+
+"Yes; and you?" said Kent, feeling for the gold he carried around his
+waist.
+
+"I'm all ready then."
+
+The boats, loaded to their guards, were putting off. Our young men felt
+it was much safer to trust to themselves than to the crazy manning of
+the already overloaded boats. They were singularly calm in their
+preparations as they strapped on the life preservers.
+
+"Jim, throw away the papers you have, recommending you to that French
+general. We may get picked up by the submarine, and as plain,
+pleasure-seeking Americans we have a much better chance of being treated
+properly than if one of us was going to join the Allies." Kent had
+inherited from his mother the faculty of keeping his head in time of
+peril.
+
+"Good eye, old man! They are in my grip and can just stay there. I
+reckon I'm a--a--book agent. That won't compromise me any."
+
+"All right, stick to it! And here goes! We must stay together."
+
+The Kentuckians dived as well as the bulky life preservers would permit
+and then they swam quietly along side by side. The ship was rapidly
+settling. The last boat was off, so full that every little wave splashed
+over its panic-stricken passengers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+TUTNO.
+
+
+The sea was comparatively calm and quite warm. If it had been anything
+but a shipwreck, our young men would have enjoyed the experience. They
+congratulated themselves that they had trusted to their own endurance
+and the life preservers rather than to the crazy boats when they saw one
+of the overloaded vessels come within an ace of turning turtle.
+
+The submarine was now on top of the water and was slowly steaming
+towards the scene of disaster. The boats made for the opposite direction
+as fast as the oarsmen could pull. They had not realized that all the
+submarine wanted was to destroy the pork and beef cargo. The hungrier
+the French army got the sooner they would be conquered by the Germans.
+
+"Well, my friend the book agent, what do you think about swimming in
+the direction of the enemy? Remember we are Americans, just plain
+Americans with no desire to do anything in the way of swatting
+Prussians.--Neutral noncombatants!" said Kent, swimming easily, the
+life preserver lifting him so far out of the water that he declared he
+felt like a bell buoy.
+
+"Yes, I'll remember! My line is family albums and de luxe copies of
+Ruskin. I hope those poor devils in the boats will make land or get
+picked up or something."
+
+"Me, too! If the sea only stays so smooth they can make a port in less
+than a day, if they don't come a cropper. We are almost in the English
+Channel, I should say, due south of the Scilly Islands."
+
+"Well, I feel as though I belonged on them--here we are shipwrecked and
+floating around like a beach party, conversing as quietly as though it
+were the most ordinary occurrence to book agents and damsel seekers!"
+
+"There is no use in getting in a stew. I have a feeling that the Germans
+are going to pick us up. They are heading this way and I don't reckon
+they will let us sink before their eyes. If they don't pick us up, we
+are good for many hours of this play. I feel as fresh as a daisy."
+
+"Same here!"
+
+"Thank God, there weren't any women and children on board!" said Kent
+fervently.
+
+"Yes, I was feeling that all the time. I'd hate to think of their being
+in those crazy boats."
+
+The German boat was quite close to them now. The deck was filled with
+men, all of them evidently in great good humour with themselves and Fate
+because of the terrible havoc they had played with the poor _Hirondelle
+de Mer_, who was now at her last gasp, the waves washing over her upper
+decks.
+
+"_Wei gehts?_" shouted Jim, raising himself up far in the water and
+wigwagging violently at the death dealing vessel.
+
+It was only a short time before the efficient crew had Kent and Jim on
+board, in dry clothes and before an officer. The fact that they were
+Americans was beyond dispute, but their business on the other side was
+evidently taken with a grain of salt by the very keen looking, alert
+young man who questioned them in excellent English.
+
+Jim was quite glib with his book agent tale. He got off a line of talk
+about the albums that almost convulsed Kent.
+
+"Why were you going to Paris to sell such things? Would a country at war
+be a good field for such an industry?"
+
+"But the country will not be at war long. We expect the Germans to have
+conquered in a short time, and then they will want many albums for the
+snapshots they have taken during the campaign. I have been sent as an
+especial favor by my company, who wish to honor me. I hate to think of
+all my beautiful books being sunk in the _Hirondelle_." Jim looked so
+sad and depressed that the young officer offered him a mug of beer and
+urged him to try the Bologna sausage that was among the viands waiting
+for them.
+
+Kent's reason for going to Paris was received with open doubt. It was
+very amusing in a way that they should be completely taken in by Jim's
+ingenuous tale of albums while Kent, telling the truth, the whole truth,
+and nothing but the truth, should be doubted.
+
+"Going to Paris to bring home a young lady? Is she your sister?"
+
+"No, she is a friend of my sister," answered Kent, feeling very much as
+though he were saying a lesson.
+
+"Do you know Paris?"
+
+"Yes, I studied architecture at the Beaux Arts last winter."
+
+"Ah, then your sympathies are with France!"
+
+"I am an American and my nation is remaining neutral on the war."
+
+"Yes, your nation but not the individuals! What were your intentions
+after finding the young lady?"
+
+"To take her back to United States as fast as we could go."
+
+"Well, well! I am afraid the young lady will have to content herself in
+Paris for some weeks yet, as we are bound for other ports now. Make
+yourselves at home," and with a salute the officer left them to the
+welcome meal which had immediately been furnished them after their
+ducking.
+
+If the Kentuckians had had nothing to do but enjoy life on that
+submarine, no doubt they could have done it. They were treated most
+courteously by officers and men. The food was plentiful and wholesome,
+the life was interesting and conversation with the sailors most
+instructive, but Jim was eager to strike that blow against Prussia and
+it was extremely irksome to him to have to keep up the farce of being a
+book agent. Kent was more and more uneasy about Judy, realizing, from
+the sample of Germans he now came in contact with, that ruthlessness was
+the keynote of their character. They were fighting to win, and win they
+would or die in the attempt; by fair means or foul, they meant to
+conquer the whole world who did not side with them.
+
+"Gee, if I don't believe they can do it," sighed Jim, as he and his
+friend were having one of their rare tete-a-tetes. "They have such
+belief in their powers."
+
+"Yes, they seem much more stable, somehow, than the French. Did you ever
+imagine anything like the clockwork precision with which this monster is
+run?"
+
+"When do you reckon we will get off of her? We have been on a week now
+and I see no signs of landing us. I am always asking that human question
+mark, Captain von Husser, what he is going to do with us, and he just
+smiles until his moustache ends stick into his eyes, and looks wise. I
+feel like Hansel and Gretel and think maybe they are fattening us to eat
+later on. I am getting terribly flabby and fat," and Jim felt his
+muscles and patted his stomach with disapproval.
+
+"I'd certainly like to know where we are. You notice they never tell us
+a thing, and since we are allowed only in the cabin and on a certain
+part of the deck, we never have a chance at the chart. I wish they would
+let us bunk alone and not have that fat head in with us. This is the
+first time they have let us talk together since we got hauled in, and I
+bet some one is to blame for this."
+
+Kent had hardly spoken before a flushed lieutenant came hurriedly up and
+with ill-concealed perturbation entered into conversation with them.
+
+"Gee whiz!" thought Kent. "I wish Jim Castleman and I knew some kind of
+a language that these butchers did not know. But the trouble is they are
+so terribly well educated they know all we know and three times as much
+besides." Suddenly there flashed into his mind a childish habit the
+Browns used to have of speaking in a gibberish called Tutno. "I wonder
+if Jim knows it! I've a great mind to try him." Putting his hand on his
+friend's arm, he said quite solemnly: "Jug i mum, sank a nun tut, yack o
+u, tut a lul kuk, Tutno."
+
+"Sus u rur e!" exclaimed Jim, delightedly.
+
+The lieutenant looked quite startled, wigwagged to a brother officer who
+was passing and spoke hurriedly to him in German. As German was worse
+than Greek to Kent and Jim (they had studied some Greek at school but
+knew no German) they did not know for sure what they were saying, but
+from the evident excitement of the two officers they gathered they had
+quite upset the calculations of their under-sea hosts.
+
+"Gug o tot, 'e mum, gug o i nun gug, sus o mum e!" exclaimed Kent with
+such a mischievous twinkle in his eye that the two officers bristled
+their moustaches in a fury of curiosity.
+
+"Yack o u, bub e tut!" was Jim's cryptic rejoinder.
+
+For the benefit of my readers who have never whiled away the golden
+hours of childhood with Tutno or who have perchance forgotten it, I
+reckon (being a Southerner myself, I shall say reckon) I had better
+explain the intricacies of the language. Tutno is a language which is
+spoken by spelling and every letter sounds like a word. The vowels
+remain the same as in English but the consonants are formed by adding u
+and then the same consonant again. For instance: M is mum; N is nun; T
+is tut; R is rur. There are a few exceptions which vary in different
+localities making the language slightly different in the states. In
+Kentucky, C is sank; Y is yack; J is jug. Now when Jim exclaimed: "Yack
+o u bub e tut!" he conveyed the simple remark: "You bet!" to Kent's
+knowing ears.
+
+Kent had opened the conversation by the brilliant remark: "Jim, can you
+speak Tutno?" and Jim had answered: "Sure!" Then Kent had come back
+with: "Got 'em going some!"
+
+The Kentuckians were in great distress when they realized that no doubt
+the sinking of the _Hirondelle de Mer_ had been reported in the United
+States and that their families must be in a state of doubt as to their
+whereabouts. They had requested the Captain to let them send a message
+if possible, and he had told them with great frankness that in war time
+the women must expect to be uncertain. Two more ships had been sunk
+since they had been taken on board, but they were kept in ignorance
+as to what ships they were or what had been the fate of the crew or
+passengers. They knew that some men had been added to the number of
+prisoners on board, but as they were kept in a compartment to
+themselves, they never saw them.
+
+Between operations, when the submarine came up on top of the water
+and all on board swarmed on deck to smoke and enjoy the fresh air and
+sunshine, Kent and Jim were politely conducted down into the cabin after
+they were deemed to have had enough, and then the other prisoners,
+whoever they were, were evidently given an airing.
+
+After our young men started their Tutno game they were never left alone
+one minute. Such a powwowing as went on after it was reported was never
+beheld. It was evidently considered of grave international importance.
+Once they found their keeper taking furtive notes. Evidently they hoped
+to gain something by finding out what the Americans were saying.
+
+The plentiful food that had at first been served to them was growing
+more meagre and less choice. There was nothing but a small portion of
+black bread with very bad butter and a cup of coffee for breakfast; a
+stew of a nondescript canned meat and more black bread for dinner, and
+for supper nothing but black bread with a smearing of marmalade.
+
+Jim's superfluous flesh began to go and Kent got as lean as a grey
+hound.
+
+"Pup rur o vuv i sus i o nun sus, lul o wuv, I rur e sack kuk o nun!"
+said Jim, tightening his belt.
+
+It had been more than two weeks since the sinking of the _Hirondelle_
+and the young men were growing very weary of the life. Their misery was
+increasing because of the uncertainty they knew their families must be
+in. No respite was in sight. They could tell by the balmy air when they
+were allowed on deck that they were further south than they had been
+when they were struck, but where, they had not the slightest idea.
+
+"The water looks as it does around Burmuda, but surely we are not over
+there," said Kent in Tutno.
+
+"The Lord knows where we are!" answered Jim in the same language.
+
+"I wish the brutes would let us telegraph our folks, somehow. They could
+do it if they chose. They can do anything, these Prussians." When Kent
+said Prussians in Tutno: "Pup rur u sus sus i nun sus," the young
+officer whose turn it was to guard them whipped out his note book and
+examined it closely.
+
+"Sus often repeated!" he muttered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE "SIGNY."
+
+
+"The orders of the Commander are for the Americans to disembark!"
+
+A lieutenant clicked his heels in front of our friends and saluted.
+
+"Bub u lul lul yack!" shouted Jim. "Where? When?"
+
+"Immediately!"
+
+The submarine was on the surface of the water, but Jim and Kent had been
+ushered below, evidently to give their mysterious fellow prisoners a
+turn at the deck. They were never allowed to see them, and to this day
+are absolutely ignorant as to who they were or how many or of what
+nationality.
+
+It turned out that a Swedish vessel, the _Signy_, had been sighted
+thirteen miles off the Spanish port of Camarinas. She was signaled and
+ordered to take aboard the Kentuckians and land them. Explicit commands
+were given the captain of the _Signy_ that she was to land the young men
+immediately.
+
+Kent and Jim were too glad to get off the submarine to care where they
+were being landed. They only hoped it was not in South America.
+
+"Gug o o dud bub yack!" shouted Jim to the grinning crew of the German
+vessel.
+
+The young lieutenant of the inquisitive mind made another note in his
+little book as the life boat from the Swedish ship bore the young men
+away.
+
+They were very cordially received on board the _Signy_ but not allowed
+to stay a moment longer than was necessary. The ship steamed to within a
+few miles of the Spanish port, all the time being followed up by the
+submarine, then the boats were lowered again and Kent and Jim rowed to
+shore. They were given a good meal in the interim, however, one that
+they were most pleased to get, too, as black bread and canned stew had
+begun to pall on these favored sons of Kentucky.
+
+"Where in the thunder is Camarinas?" queried Kent. "I know it is Spain,
+but is it north, south, east or west?"
+
+"Well, I reckon it isn't east and that's about all I know."
+
+It proved to be in the northwest corner and after some mix-ups, a person
+was found who could speak English. The American Consul was tracked,
+cablegrams were sent to Kentucky apprising their families of their
+safety, and at last our friends were on the train en route for Paris.
+
+It was a long and circuitous journey, over and under and around
+mountains. They would have enjoyed it at any other time, but Kent was
+too uneasy about Judy to enjoy anything, and Jim was too eager to get in
+line to swat the Prussians, as he expressed it, to be interested in
+Spanish scenery. They traveled third class as they had no intention of
+drawing too recklessly on their hoarded gold.
+
+After many hours of travel by day and night, they finally arrived in
+Paris. It was eleven at night and our young men were weary, indeed. The
+hard benches of the third class coaches had made their impression and
+they longed for sheets and made-up beds.
+
+"A shave! A shave! My kingdom for a shave!" exclaimed Kent, as they
+stretched their stiffened limbs after tumbling out of the coach in the
+Gare de Sud.
+
+"Don't forget I am a stranger in a strange land, so put me wise," begged
+Jim.
+
+"I know a terribly cheap little hotel on Montparnasse and Raspail where
+we can put up, without even the comforts of a bum home, but we can make
+out there and it is cheap. The _Haute Loire_ is its high sounding name,
+but it is not high, I can tell you."
+
+"Well, let's do it. I hope there is some kind of a bath there."
+
+"I trust so, but if there isn't, we can go to a public bath."
+
+The Kentuckians were a very much dishevelled pair. They had purchased
+the necessary toilet articles at Camarinas, but sleeping for nights in
+suits in which they had already had quite a lengthy swim did not improve
+their appearance. The submariners had pressed their clothes after their
+ducking, but Jim's trousers had shrunk lengthways until he said he felt
+like Buster Brown, and Kent's had dried up the other way, so that in
+walking two splits had arrived across his knees.
+
+"We look like tramps, but the _Haute Loire_ is used to our type. I don't
+believe we could get into a good hotel."
+
+"Are you going to look up your girl--excuse me, I mean Miss Kean, before
+you replenish your wardrobe?"
+
+"Why, yes, I must not wait a minute. I would like to do it to-night."
+
+"To-night! Man, you are crazy! Get that alfalfa off your face first. One
+night can't get her into much trouble."
+
+"Perhaps you are right. I am worn out, too, and a night's rest and a
+shave will do wonders for both of us."
+
+Paris looked very changed to Kent. The streets were so dark and
+everything looked so sad, very different from the gay city he had left
+only a few weeks before. The _Haute Loire_ had not changed, though. It
+was the same little hospitable fifth class joint. The madame received
+the exceedingly doubtful looking guests with as much cordiality as she
+would had they been the President of the Republic and General Joffre.
+
+There were no baths that night, but tumbling into bed, our Kentuckians
+were lost to the world until the next day. What if the Prussians did fly
+over the city, dropping bombs on helpless noncombatants? Two young men
+who had been torpedoed; had floated around indefinitely in the Atlantic
+Ocean; had been finally picked up by the submarine that had done the
+damage; had remained in durance vile for several weeks on the submarine,
+resorting to Tutno to have any private conversation at all; and at last
+been transferred to a Swedish vessel and dumped by them on the northwest
+coast of Spain--those young men cared little whether school kept or not.
+The bombs that dropped that night were nothing more than pop crackers to
+them. The excitement in the streets did not reach their tired ears.
+
+Kent dreamed of Chatsworth and of taking Judy down to Aunt Mary's cabin
+so the old woman could see "that Judy gal" once more. Jim Castleman
+dreamed he swatted ten thousand Prussians, which was a sweet and
+peaceful dream to one who considered swatting the Prussians a
+privilege.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE CABLEGRAM.
+
+
+"Tingaling, aling, aling! Phome a ringin' agin! I bet that's Mr. Paul,"
+declared Caroline, the present queen of the Chatsworth kitchen. "I kin
+tell his ring ev'y time. I'm a goin' ter answer it, Miss Molly."
+
+Molly, who was ironing the baby's cap strings and bibs (work she never
+trusted any one to do), smiled. It was one of Caroline's notions that
+each person had a particular way of ringing the telephone. She was
+always on the alert to answer the "phome," and would stop anything she
+was doing and tear to be first to take down the receiver, although it
+always meant that some member of the family must come and receive the
+message which usually was perfectly unintelligible to the willing girl.
+
+The telephone was in the great old dining room, because, as Mrs. Brown
+said, every one would call up at meal time and if you were there, you
+were there. Molly followed Caroline to the dining room, knowing full
+well that she would be needed when once the preliminaries were over. She
+gathered the cap strings and bibs, now neatly ironed and ready for the
+trip to Wellington that she would sooner or later have to take.
+
+Still no news from the _Hirondelle de Mer_, that is, no news from Kent.
+The last boat load of sailors and passengers had been taken up, but none
+of them could say for sure whether the two Kentuckians had been saved or
+not. One man insisted he had seen the submarine stop and take something
+or some one on board, but when closely questioned he was quite hazy as
+to his announcement. Jimmy Lufton had kept the cables hot trying to find
+out something. The Browns and Jim Castleman's sister had communicated
+with each other on the subject of the shipwrecked boys.
+
+"'Low!" she heard Caroline mutter with that peculiarly muffled tone that
+members of her race always seem to think they must assume when speaking
+through the telephone. "This here is Mrs. Brown's res-i-d-e-n-c-e!
+Yessir! This here is Ca'line at the phome. Yessir! Miss Molly done made
+yo' maw eat her breakfus' in the baid. No, sir, not to say sick in the
+baid--yessir, kinder sick on the baid. Yessir! Miss Molly is a
+launderin' of the cap ties fer the baby. We is all well, sir, yessir.
+I'll call Miss Molly."
+
+Of course she hung up the receiver before Molly could drop her cap
+strings and reach the telephone.
+
+"Oh, Caroline, why did you hang it up? Was it Mr. Paul?"
+
+"Yassum! It were him. I done tole you I could tell his ring. I hung up
+the reception cause I didn't know you was so handy, an' I thought if I
+kep it down, it might was'e the phome somehow, while I went out to fetch
+you."
+
+Molly couldn't help laughing, although it was very irritating for
+Caroline to be so intensely stupid about telephoning. Paul, knowing
+Caroline's ways, rang up again in a moment and Molly was there ready to
+get the message herself.
+
+"Molly, honey, are you well? Is Mother well? How is the baby?"
+
+"All well, Paul! Any news?"
+
+"Good news, Molly!" Molly dropped all the freshly ironed finery and
+leaned against the wall for support. "A cablegram from Spain! Kent was
+landed there by the German submarine."
+
+"Kent! Are you sure?"
+
+"As sure as shootin'! Let me read it to you--'Safe--well, Kent.' Tell
+Mother as soon as you can, Molly, but go easy with it. Good news might
+knock her out as much as bad news. I'll be out with John as fast as his
+tin Lizzie can buzz us."
+
+"Safe! Kent alive and well!"
+
+Molly's knees were trembling so she could hardly get to her mother's
+room, where that good lady had been pretending to eat her breakfast in
+bed. Old Shep, standing by her bedside, had a suspiciously greasy
+expression around his mouth and was very busy licking his lips, which
+imparted the information to the knowing Molly that her mother's dainty
+breakfast had disappeared to a spot to which it was not destined by the
+two anxious cooks, Molly and Caroline.
+
+"Molly, what is it? I heard the 'phone ring. Was it Paul?"
+
+"Yes, Mother! Good news!"
+
+Mrs. Brown closed her eyes and lay back on her pillows, looking so pale
+that Molly was scared. How fragile the good lady was! Her profile was
+more cameo-like than ever. These few weeks of waiting, in spite of the
+brave front she had shown to the world, had told on her. Could she stand
+good news any better than she could bad?
+
+"Kent?" she murmured faintly.
+
+"Yes, Mother, a cablegram! 'Safe, well, Kent.'"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Spain, I don't know what part."
+
+And then the long pent-up flood gates were opened and Mrs. Brown and
+Molly had such a cry as was never seen or heard of. The cap strings that
+Molly had dropped on the floor when she heard that there was news, she
+had gathered up in one wild swoop on the way to her mother's room, and
+these were first brought into requisition to weep on, and then the
+sheets and the napkin from the breakfast tray, and at last even old Shep
+had to get damp.
+
+"I bus' stop ad gall up Zue ad Ad Zarah. Oh, Bother, Bother, how good
+God is!"
+
+"Yes, darling, He is good whether our Kent was spared to us or not,"
+said Mrs. Brown, showing much more command of her consonants than poor
+Molly.
+
+Caroline appeared, one big grin, bearing little Mildred in her arms.
+
+"She done woke up an' say ter me: 'Ca'line, what all dis here rumpus
+'bout?'"
+
+As Mildred had as yet said nothing more than "Goo! Goo!" that brought
+the smiles to Molly and Mrs. Brown.
+
+"Lawd Gawd a mussy! Is Mr. Kent daid? Is that what Mr. Paul done phomed?
+I mus' run tell Aunt Mary. I boun' ter be the fust one."
+
+"No, no, Caroline! Mr. Kent is alive and well."
+
+"'Live an' well! Well, Gawd be praised! When I come in an' foun' you
+all a actin' lak what the preacher says will be in the las' day er
+jedgment, a weepin' an' wailin' an' snatchin' er teeth, I say ter
+myse'f: 'Ca'line, that there dream you had 'bout gittin' ma'id was sho'
+sign er death, drownin' referred.' Well, Miss Molly, if'n you'll hol'
+the baby, I'll go tell Aunt Mary the good news, too. Cose 'tain't quite
+so scrumptious to be the fust ter carry good news as 'tis bad, but then
+news is news."
+
+Sue was telephoned to immediately and joined in the general rejoicing.
+Aunt Sarah Clay was quite nonplussed for a moment because of the
+attitude she had taken about the family mourning, but her affection for
+her sister, which was really very sincere in spite of her successful
+manner of concealing it, came to the fore and she, too, rejoiced. Of
+course she had to suggest, to keep in character, that Kent might have
+communicated with his family sooner if he only would have exerted
+himself, but Molly was too happy to get angry and only laughed.
+
+"Aunt Clay can no more help her ways than a chestnut can its burr." And
+then she remembered how as children they would take sticks and beat the
+chestnut burrs open and she wondered if a good beating administered on
+Aunt Clay might not help matters. She voiced this sentiment to her
+mother, who said:
+
+"My dear Molly, Life has administered the beating on your Aunt Clay long
+ago. It is being childless that makes her so bitter. I know that and
+that is the reason I am so patient, at least, I try to be patient with
+her. Of course, she always asserts she is glad she has no children, that
+my children have been a never ending anxiety to me and she is glad she
+is spared a similar worry."
+
+"But, Mother, we are not a never-ending anxiety, are we?"
+
+"Yes, my darling, but an anxiety I would not be without for all the
+wealth of the Indies. Aren't you a little bit anxious all the time about
+your baby?"
+
+"Why, yes, just a teensy weensy bit, but then I haven't got used to her
+yet."
+
+"Well, when you get used to her, she will be just that much more
+precious."
+
+"But then I have just one, and you have seven."
+
+"Do you think you love her seven times as much as I love you, or Kent or
+Milly or any of them?"
+
+"Oh, Mother, of course I don't. I know you love all of us just as much
+as I love my little Mildred, only I just don't see how you can."
+
+"Maybe you will have to have seven children to understand how I can, but
+when you realize what it means to have Mildred, maybe you can understand
+what it has meant always to poor Sister Sarah never to have had any
+children."
+
+"I suppose it is hard on her but, Mother dear, if she had had the seven
+and you had never had any, do you think for a minute you would have been
+as porcupinish and cactus-like in your attitude toward the world and
+especially toward Aunt Clay's seven as she is toward yours? Never!"
+
+Molly's statement was not to be combatted, although Mrs. Brown was not
+sure what she would have been like without her seven anxieties; but
+Molly knew that she would have been the same lovely person, no matter
+how many or how few children she had had.
+
+"I'm going to try to feel differently toward Aunt Clay," she whispered
+into her baby's ear, as she cuddled her up to her after the great rite
+of bathing her was completed that morning. "Just think what it must be
+never to hold your own baby like this! Poor Aunt Clay! No wonder she is
+hard and cold--but goodness me, I'm glad I did not draw her for a
+parent." The baby looked up into her mother's eyes with a gurgle and
+crow, as though she, too, were pleased that her Granny was as she was
+and not as Aunt Clay was.
+
+"We are going to see Daddy soon, do you know that, honey baby?" And
+Molly clasped her rosy infant to her breast with a heart full of
+thanksgiving that now there was no dire reason for her remaining in
+Kentucky longer.
+
+A farewell visit must be paid to Aunt Mary. The baby was dressed in
+one of her very best slips and Molly put on her new blue suit for the
+occasion, as she well knew how flattered the old woman was by such an
+attention.
+
+"Well, bless Gawd, if here ain't my Molly baby and the little Miss Milly
+all dressed up in they best bibantucker! I been a lyin' here a dreamin'
+you was all back in the carstle, that there apple tree what you
+youngsters done built a house up'n an' Miss Milly done sent me to say
+you mus' come an wash yo' faceanhans fer dinner, jes' lak she done a
+millium times, an' who should be up in the tree with you an' that there
+Kent but yo' teacher an' that there Judy gal."
+
+Molly laughed as she always did when Aunt Mary called Professor Edwin
+Green, her teacher.
+
+"Yes, chile, they was up there with you an' Kent up'n had the imprence
+to tell me to go tell his maw that he warn't comin' ter no dinner,
+'cause he an' that there Judy gal was a keepin' house up the tree." The
+old woman chuckled with delight at Kent's "imprence."
+
+"I shouldn't be astonished if they did go to housekeeping soon, Aunt
+Mary, but I don't fancy it will be up a tree."
+
+"An' what I done say all the time 'bout that there Kent not being
+drownded? When the niggers came a whining 'roun' me a sayin' he was sho'
+daid 'cause they done had signs an' omens, I say ter them I done had mo'
+ter do with that there Kent than all of 'em put together an' I lak ter
+know what they be havin' omens 'bout him when I ain't had none. If'n
+they was any omens a floatin' 'roun' they would a lit on me an' not on
+that triflin' Buck Jourdan. He say he dream er teeth an' 'twas sho sign
+er death. I tell him mebbeso but 'twas mo'n likely he done overworked
+his teeth a eatin' er my victuals, a settin' 'roun' here dayanight a
+strummin' on his gittah, an' what's mo' I done tole him he better git
+the blacksmith ter pull out one er his jaw teeth what ain't mo'n a
+snaggle. Sukey low she goin' ter send him in ter Lou'ville ter one er
+these here tooth dentists, but I say the blacksmith is jes' as good a
+han' at drawin' teeth as they is, an' he chawge the same as ter shoe a
+mule, an' that ain't much."
+
+"But Aunt Mary, I should think if there is anything serious the matter
+with Buck's teeth he had better see a dentist. The blacksmith might
+break his tooth off."
+
+"Who? This here blacksmith? Lawsamussy, honey, why he's that strong an'
+survigorous that he would bust Buck's jaw long befo' he break his tooth.
+He'll grab hol' the tooth and put his knee in Buck's chist an' he gonter
+hol' on till either Buck or the tooth comes."
+
+A groan from the next room, the lean-to kitchen, gave evidence that Buck
+was in there, an unwilling eavesdropper since the method of the
+blacksmith on his suffering molar was the topic.
+
+"Don't you think the baby has grown, Aunt Mary?" asked Molly, mercifully
+changing the subject.
+
+"Yes, she done growed some an' she done growed prettier. I seed all the
+time she were gonter be pretty, an' when that there Paul came down here
+an' give it to me that the new baby looked lak a pink mummy--I done
+tol' him that I didn't know what a mummy were, but what ever it were,
+the new baby didn't look no mo' lak one than he did when he was born,
+'cause of all the wrinkly, scarlet little Injuns he would a fetched the
+cake. That done dried that there Paul up an he ain't been so bombast
+since bout the looks er no new babies." The old woman chuckled with
+delight in remembrance of her repartee.
+
+"Aunt Mary, I think you are feeling better, aren't you? You seem much
+more lively than when I saw you last."
+
+"'Cose I is feelin' better. Ain't we done heard good news from that
+there Kent?"
+
+"But I thought you knew all the time he was all right."
+
+"Well now, so I did, so fur as I knew anything, but they was times when
+I doubted, an' those times pulled me back right smart. Why, honey, I
+used ter pray the Almighty if he lacked a soul ter jes' tak me. I is a
+no 'count ole nigger on the outside but mebbe my soul is some good yit.
+If I could give up my life fur one er Miss Milly's chillun, I'd be
+proud ter do it!"
+
+"Oh, Aunt Mary, you have been so good to us always!"
+
+"Lawsamussy, chile! What I here fur but ter be good ter my white
+folks? They's been good ter me--as good as gole. I ain't never wanted
+fur nothin' an' I ain't never had a hard word from Carmichael or
+Brown, savin', of cose, Miss Sary. She is spoke some hard words in her
+day, but she didn' never mean nothin' by them words. I don't bear no
+grudge against po' Miss Sary. The good Lord done made her a leetle
+awry an' 'tain't fur me ter be the one ter try to straighten her out.
+Sometimes whin I lies here a thinkin' it seems ter me mebbe some folks
+is made lak Miss Sary jes' so they kin be angels on earth like yo'
+maw. Miss Sary done sanctified yo' maw. She done tried her an' rubbed
+aginst her, burnt her in de fire of renunciation and drinched her in
+the waters of reproachment until yo maw is come out refimed gold."
+
+"Maybe you are right, Aunt Mary. I am trying to be nicer about the way
+I feel about Aunt Clay myself. I think if I feel differently, maybe Aunt
+Clay would feel differently toward me. She does not like me, and why
+should she, since I don't really like her?"
+
+"I don't want ter take no Christian thoughts from yo' min' an' heart,
+honey chile, but the good you'll git from thinkin' kin' things 'bout
+Miss Sary will be all yo' own good. Miss Sary ain't gonter be no
+diffrent. She done got too sot in her ways. The leper ain't gonter
+change his spots now no mo'n it did in the time er Noah, certainly no
+ole tough leper lak Miss Sary."
+
+It was hard to tell the old woman good-by. Every time Molly left
+Chatsworth she feared it would be the last farewell to poor old Aunt
+Mary. She had been bedridden now for many months, but she hung on to
+life with a tenacity that was astonishing.
+
+"Cose, I is ready ter go whin the Marster calls," she would say, "but
+I ain't a hurryin' of him. A creakin' do' hangs long on its hinges an'
+the white folks done iled up my hinges so, what with good victuals
+with plenty er suption in 'em an' a little dram now an' then 'cordin'
+ter the doctor's subscription, that sometimes I don't creak at all. I
+may git up out'n this here baid 'fo long an' be as spry as the nex'. I
+wouldn't min' goin' so much if I jes' had mo' idee what Heaven is lak.
+I'm so feard it will be strange ter me. I don't want ter walk on no
+goldin' streets. Gold ain't no better ter walk on than bricks. Miss
+Milly done read me the Psalm what say: 'He maketh me to lay down in
+the green pastures.' Now that there piece sounds mighty pretty--jes'
+lak singin', but I ain't never been no han' to set on the damp groun'
+an' Heaven or no Heaven, I low it would give me a misery ter be a
+doin' it now; an' as fer layin' on it, no'm! I wants a good rockin'
+cheer, an' I wants it in the house, an' when I wants ter res' myse'f,
+a baid is good enough fer me."
+
+The old woman's theology was a knotty problem for all of the Brown
+family. They would read to her from the Bible and reason with her, but
+her preconceived notion of Heaven was too much for them. She believed
+firmly in the pearly gates and the golden streets, and freely announced
+she would rather have her own cabin duplicated on the other side than
+all the many mansions, and her own whitewashed gate with hinges made
+from the soles of old shoes than the pearly gates.
+
+"What I want with a mansion? The cabin whar I been a livin' all my life
+is plenty good enough for this old nigger. An' what's mo, blue grass a
+growin' on each side of a shady lane is better'n golden streets. I ain't
+a goin' ter be hard-headed bout Heaven, but I hope the Marster will let
+me settle in some cottage an' let it be in the country where I kin raise
+a few chickens an' mebbe keep a houndog."
+
+"I am sure the Master will let you have whatever you want, dear Aunt
+Mary," Molly would say.
+
+"But if'n he does that, I'll get too rotten spiled ter stay in Heaven.
+He better limit me some, or I'll feel too proudified even fer a angel."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WELLINGTON AGAIN.
+
+
+"Oh, it is nice to be back home," sighed Molly, settling herself
+luxuriously in the sleepy-hollow chair that was supposed to be set
+aside for the master of the house. With the girlish habit she had never
+outgrown, she slipped off her pumps and stretched out her slender feet
+to the wood fire, that felt very comfortable in the crisp autumn
+weather.
+
+"That's what you said when we arrived in Kentucky in the spring," teased
+her husband.
+
+"Well, so it was nice. The migratory birds have two homes and they are
+always glad to get to whichever one is seasonable. I reckon I am with my
+two homes as Mother is with her seven children. I love them just the
+same. Thank goodness, I haven't seven of them, homes, I mean."
+
+"Yes, I think two are enough."
+
+"Which home do you love best, Wellington or the Orchard Home?" asked
+Molly, smiling fondly at her husband, who was dandling little Mildred on
+his knees with awkward eagerness.
+
+"Why, neither one of them is home to me unless you are there, and
+whichever one you grace with your presence is for the time being the one
+I like the better."
+
+"And the baby, too, whichever one she is in makes it home!"
+
+"Oh, certainly!" exclaimed Edwin Green with a whimsical expression on
+his face. "I see that when I make love now it is to be to two ladies and
+not to one."
+
+"Don't you think Mildred has grown a lot? And see, her eyes have really
+turned brown, just as Mother said they would. Don't you think she looks
+well?"
+
+"Yes, honey, I think she looks very well, but I don't think you do."
+
+"Me! Nonsense! I am as well as can be, just a little tired from the
+trip."
+
+"Yes, I know. Of course that was fatiguing, but I think you are thinner
+than you have any right to be. I am afraid you have been doing too
+much."
+
+"Oh, not at all. I have had simply nothing to do but take care of the
+baby, and that is just play, real play."
+
+"Humph, no doubt! But maybe you have played too hard and that is what
+has tired you. I thought you were going to bring Kizzie along to nurse."
+
+"Oh, that was your and Mother's plan! I never had any idea of doing it.
+'Deed and um's muvver is going to take care of 'ittle bits a baby
+herself," and Molly reached out and snuggled the willing Mildred down in
+the sleepy-hollow chair. Daddy's knee was not the most comfortable spot
+in the world, and a back that has only been in the world about four
+months cannot stand for much dandling.
+
+"But, Molly darling, Kizzie is a good girl and it would help you ever so
+much to have her. You know we can well afford it now, so don't let the
+financial side of it worry you."
+
+"But, Edwin, I can't give up taking care of the baby. I just love to do
+it."
+
+"All right, my dear, but please don't wear yourself out."
+
+The fact was that the long strain of waiting for news from Kent had told
+on Molly, and she was looking quite wan and tired. It was not just the
+trip from Kentucky, which, of course, was no easy matter. Twenty-four
+hours on the train with an infant that needed much attention and got
+much more than it really needed was no joke, but the long hours and days
+of waiting and uncertainty had taken Molly's strength. She did feel
+tired and had no appetite, but she felt sure a night's rest would
+restore her. She rather attributed her lack of appetite to the poor food
+that the new Irish maid, whom Edwin had installed in her absence, was
+serving.
+
+"I'll take hold of her to-morrow and see what can be done," she said
+rather wearily to herself. "I wish Mother could train her for me. I
+should much rather do the cooking myself than try to train some one who
+is as hopelessly green as this girl."
+
+That night little Mildred decided was a good time to assert herself.
+The trip had not tired her at all; on the contrary, it had spurred her
+on to a state of hilarity, which was very amusing at first but as the
+night wore on, ceased to be funny. She had come to the delightful
+knowledge of the fact that she had feet and that each foot had five
+toes. The cover did not stay on these little pigs one moment. Every
+time Molly would settle her tired bones and begin to doze, there would
+be a crow from Mildred, a gurgle, and straight in the air would go the
+bed clothes, tucked in for the millionth time by the patient young
+mother. Then the pink tootsies would leap into sight and soon find
+their way to a determined little mouth.
+
+"Darling, you must go to sleepsumby!" Molly would remonstrate. "And you
+will catch your death if you don't keep covered up!"
+
+But the four months' old baby had been too busy in her short life
+learning other things to bother her head about a mere language. The
+business of the night was feet and feet alone. There was too much to do
+about those wonderful little feet for her to think of sleep. Finally
+Molly gave up. She closed the windows, as too much fresh air on bare
+feet and legs might not be best and already the little limbs were icy
+cold. Then she kindled a fire in the grate, the furnace not yet having
+been started, and gave herself up to a night of sleeplessness. Early in
+the action, Edwin had been banished to the guest chamber, as he must get
+sleep no matter what happened, for he had a busy day ahead of him.
+
+Toward morning little Mildred mastered her pedagogy, as her father had
+called it, and then she dropped off into a deep and peaceful sleep. The
+weary Molly slept, too.
+
+Before he went to his lectures, Edwin crept into the room to look at his
+sleeping treasures. The chubby baby still had a toe clasped in her hand
+but from very weariness had fallen over on her side and was covered up
+all but the pink foot, which was asserting itself in the remarkable
+position that only the young can take. Molly looked very pale and tired
+but was sleeping peacefully. Edwin smiled at them. He had given the
+green maid from the Emerald Isle strict orders not to awaken them. He
+devoutly hoped that Molly would not know what a very mean breakfast he
+had endeavored to choke down; burnt bacon and underdone biscuit washed
+down with very weak coffee and flanked by eggs that had been cooked too
+long and not long enough, thereby undergoing that process that the
+chemist tells us is of all things the most indigestible: half hard and
+half soft. The burnt bacon had been cold and the underdone biscuit still
+cooking, seemingly, when the poor young husband and father had tried to
+nourish himself on them.
+
+He had rather hoped when Molly once got back to Wellington that his food
+would be better; no doubt it would as soon as she, poor girl, could get
+rested up. He was thankful, indeed, now that she was asleep and tiptoed
+out of the room and house without making a sound.
+
+She slept until late in the morning and then the business of the day
+began, getting little Mildred fed and washed and dressed and fed again
+and then to sleep. The good-natured, if wholly incapable, Katy hung
+around and waited on the pretty young mistress. Katy had never been out
+in service in the "schtates," but had come from New York in answer to an
+advertisement in a newspaper inserted by the despairing professor when
+he had come back to Wellington alone while his wife waited in Kentucky
+for news of her brother. He had had kindly visions of getting a good
+Irish cook and having the housekeeping all running beautifully before
+Molly's return.
+
+Immigrant Katy proved rosy and willing but with no more conception of
+how to cook than she had how to clean. She was great on "scroobing,"
+but walls and furniture and carpets were not supposed to be scrubbed.
+The kitchen floor and pantry shelves were alike beautiful after her
+administrations, but gold dust and a stiff brush had not improved the
+appearance of the piano legs. Edwin had come home in the nick of time
+to stop her before she vented her energies on Molly's own Persian
+rug, the pride of her heart because of the wonderful blue in it.
+
+"What time is it, Katy?" asked Molly after the baby was absolutely
+finished and tucked in her carriage to stay on the porch.
+
+"'Tis twilve of the clock, Miss, and I haven't so much as turned a hand
+below schtairs."
+
+"Oh, it can't be that late! Lunch at one! What are we to have?"
+
+"And that I am not knowing, Miss. Sure and there is nothing in the
+house."
+
+"Oh, Katy, and I have been dawdling up here for hours! I forgot about
+keeping house, I was so taken up with the baby."
+
+"Yes, and no doubt your man will be sour about it, too."
+
+Molly, still in her kimono, flew to the regions below and began
+frantically to search for something to concoct into luncheon. A forlorn
+piece of roast veal was excavated and half a loaf of stale baker's
+bread. A can of asparagus, a leftover from the housekeeping of the
+spring, was unearthed. Olive oil was in the refrigerator, also, butter,
+milk and eggs. The veal looked very hopeless, evidently having reposed
+for hours in a half cold oven before it had furnished forth a miserable
+dinner for the poor professor.
+
+"Now I'll 'form a miracle on the vituals,' as dear Aunt Mary would say,"
+declared Molly to herself. "Katy, get the dining room straight. Don't
+scrub anything but just clear off the table and then set it again as
+well as you can. Put on a fresh lunch cloth and clean napkins; then see
+that the fire in the library is all right."
+
+The veal, run through the meat chopper, came out better than was to be
+expected, and croquettes were formed and frying in deep fat before the
+dazed Katy had cleared off the breakfast table.
+
+"Katy, you must hurry or we won't have the master's luncheon ready when
+he gets in."
+
+"Faith, and, Mrs. Green, you do be flying round so schwift like, that I
+can't get me breath. I feel like the wind from your schkirts was sinding
+me back. All I can do is schtand schtill and breast the wind."
+
+"Well, I tell you what you do then," laughed Molly: "You come fly with
+the wind," and she caught the Irish girl by the hand and ran her around
+the dining room table just to show her how fast she could go if
+necessary. Katy, having got wound up, kept on going at a rate of speed
+that was astonishing. To be sure, she broke a cup and a plate, but what
+was a little chaney to the master's luncheon being served on time?
+
+The faithful can of asparagus was opened and heated; toast was made from
+the half loaf of stale bread, and a cream sauce prepared to pour over
+the asparagus on toast. Popovers were stirred up and in the oven before
+Katy got the table set, although she was going with the wind instead of
+trying to breast it. A few rosy apples from the orchard at Chatsworth,
+unearthed from the depths of the unpacked trunk, formed a salad with a
+mayonnaise made in such a hurry that Molly trembled for its quality; but
+luck being with her that day, it turned out beautifully.
+
+"No lettuce, so we'll put the salad on those green majolica plates and
+maybe he won't notice," she called to Katy, just as the professor
+opened the front door.
+
+"Mol--ly!" he called.
+
+"Here I am."
+
+The mistress of the house emerged from the kitchen in a state of
+mussiness but looking very pretty withal, her red-gold hair curling up
+in little ringlets from the steam and her cheeks as rosy as though she
+had joost come over wid Katy. Her blue kimono was very becoming but
+hardly what she would have chosen to appear in at luncheon.
+
+"I am so sorry not to be dressed, but I had to hustle so as to get lunch
+ready in time. The clock struck twelve when I thought it was about ten."
+
+"Did you have to get luncheon? Where was Katy?"
+
+"She helped, but I wanted to have a finger in it. If you will wait a
+minute, I will get into a dress."
+
+"Why, you look beautiful in that loose blue thing; besides, I have to
+eat and run. A faculty meeting is calling me."
+
+The luncheon was delicious, and Edwin gave it all praise by devouring
+large quantities of it. Molly could not eat much as she was too hot, and
+hurrying is not conducive to appetite. Mildred, who was sleeping on the
+porch, awoke when the meal was half over and Molly could not trust Katy
+to take her up.
+
+"She might hold her upside down. I will bring her to the table and she
+can talk to you while you are finishing!"
+
+So Molly flew to the porch and picked up her darling. She had intended
+to take her to the dining room but she remembered it was time for
+Mildred to have her food and so the patient Edwin had to finish his meal
+alone.
+
+He found his wife and baby on the upper back porch. The color had left
+Molly's cheeks and she was quite pale, and there was a little wan,
+wistful look in her countenance that Edwin did not like.
+
+"Molly, honey, you are all tired out. You did not eat your luncheon and
+you got no sleep last night. What are we going to do about it?"
+
+"Oh, I'm all right! Please don't bother about me! Did you like the apple
+salad? They were apples from Kentucky."
+
+"Fine! Everything was delicious. But I don't want you to wear yourself
+out cooking. If Katy can't cook, we must get some one who can. If she
+can't cook and you won't let her nurse, why what is the use of her?"
+
+Molly, worn out with the sleepless night and the record breaking getting
+of a meal out of nothing, felt as though she would disgrace herself in a
+minute and burst into tears. She could not discuss the matter with Edwin
+for fear of breaking down. Edwin kissed her good-by and tactfully
+withdrew.
+
+"You goose, Molly Brown!" she scolded herself. "And what on earth are
+you so full of tears over? I know Edwin thinks I ought to have a nurse
+and I just can't trust Mildred to any one. I am going to try so hard to
+have everything so nice that he won't think about it any more."
+
+A grand telephoning for provisions ensued, and a dinner was planned for
+six-thirty that would have taxed the culinary powers of a real chef and
+before which Katy bowed her head in defeat. It meant that by four Molly
+must be back in the kitchen to start things.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+IRISHMAN'S CURTAINS.
+
+
+Callers came in through the afternoon to welcome back to Wellington the
+popular wife of the popular professor and to glimpse the new baby. Kind
+Mrs. McLean, the wife of the doctor, a little older than when last we
+saw her but showing it only in her whitening hair and not at all in her
+upright carriage and British complexion, stopped in "just for a moment"
+to be picked up later by the doctor on his way to a country patient.
+Miss Walker herself, the busy president of Wellington, ran in from the
+meeting of the faculty to greet her one time pupil and to give one kiss
+to the college baby. Several of the seniors, who were freshmen when
+Molly was still at college as post graduate and who had the delight of
+calling her Molly while most of the others had to say Mrs. Green, came
+in fresh from a game of basketball, glowing with health and enthusiasm.
+
+While these friends were all gathered about Molly and the baby, Alice
+Fern, Edwin Green's cousin, driving in to Wellington in a very stylish
+new electric car, stopped to make a fashionable call on her law kin. She
+had never forgiven Molly for stealing (as she expressed it) Edwin's
+affections. She was still Miss Fern, and although she was possessed of
+beauty and intelligence, it was likely that she would remain Miss Fern.
+Molly was never very much at her ease with Alice. She was particularly
+sensitive to any feeling of dislike entertained toward her, and Edwin's
+cousin always made her feel that she disapproved of her in some way.
+
+The living room in the broad old red brick house on the campus, occupied
+by the professor of English, was a pleasant room, breathing of the
+tastes and pursuits of the owners. Low bookshelves were in every nook
+and cranny, filled with books, the shelves actually sagging with them.
+Botticelli's Primavera, a present from Mary Stewart, adorned one wall;
+Mathew Jouette's portrait of Molly's great grandmother, a wedding
+present from Aunt Clay, another. This was the portrait that looked so
+much like Molly and also like the Marquise d'Ochte, between whom and
+Aunt Sarah Clay there was no love lost; indeed, it was this likeness
+that had induced Aunt Clay to part with such a valuable work of art. The
+other pictures were some dashing, clever sketches by Judy Kean, and
+Pierce Kinsella's very lovely portrait of Mrs. Brown, that had won
+honorable mention at the Salon and then had been sent by the young
+artist to adorn Molly's home. On the whole, it was a very satisfactory
+and tastefully furnished room and Molly and Edwin always declared they
+could talk better and think better in that room than in any they had
+ever seen.
+
+On that first day home, Molly was a little conscious of the fact that
+the room needed a thorough cleaning, not the scrubbing that Katy was so
+desirous of administering, but just a good thorough cleaning. However,
+she was so glad to see her friends again and so proud of showing her
+wonderful baby to them that the cleaning seemed of small importance.
+
+"I'll dust all the books to-morrow," she said to herself, "and have Katy
+wipe down the walls, polish the glass on the pictures, and above all,
+wash the windows."
+
+She well knew that Miss Walker and dear Mrs. McLean were not noticing
+such things, or, if they did, they would make all excuses. As for the
+college girls--dirt was not what they came to see. They came to see the
+lovely Molly and her adorable baby. If the walls were festooned with
+cobwebs, why that was the way walls should be in the home of a learned
+professor of English, who had written several books, besides the
+libretto to a successful opera, and who was married to a beautiful
+Titian-haired girl who was also a genius in her way, having been
+accepted in magazines when she was not even out of college. What did
+they care for dust on the books and smeary window panes? Molly was so
+popular with the college girls that in their eyes she was perfection
+itself.
+
+Alice Fern's entrance broke up the cheerful group gathered around Molly
+and the rosy Mildred. Miss Walker suddenly remembered that she had an
+important engagement and hurried off, and Mrs. McLean, who made no
+endeavor to hide her impatience at Miss Fern's exceeding smugness, went
+outside to wait for the doctor. The girls stayed, however, hoping to sit
+out the unwelcome interrupter.
+
+These girls were favorites of Molly's. The harum scarum Billie McKym
+from New York reminded her in a way of her own Judy, although no one
+else could see it. Josephine Crittenden, Tom boy of college and leader
+in all sports, hailed from Kentucky, and being a distant relative of
+Crittenden Rutledge, Mildred Brown's husband, was of course taken
+immediately under the wing of the loyal Molly. She had what she called a
+crush on Molly, and not a little did she amuse that young matron, as
+well as annoy her, by her gifts of flowers and candy.
+
+The third girl was from the West. Thelma Olsen was her name, and
+although her family had been in America for three generations, Thelma
+had inherited the characteristics of a Viking maiden along with the
+name. She was very tall, with an excellent figure and the strength of
+a man. Her hair was as yellow as gold and her eyes as blue as corn
+flowers. She moved with dignity, holding her head up like a queen. Her
+expression was calm and kindly. She had, in very truth, worked her way
+through college, which of course appealed to Molly, remembering well her
+own boot blacking days and her many schemes for making a few pennies.
+But what most touched our Molly was the fact that Thelma had a writing
+bee in her bonnet. The girl had an instinct for literature and a longing
+for expression that must come out. Professor Green thought very highly
+of her gift for prose and did much to encourage her.
+
+These three girls formed a strange trio, but they were inseparable,
+having roomed together since their freshman year. Billie was very rich
+in her own name, since she was an orphan with nothing closer than a
+guardian and an aunt-in-law. Money meant no more to her than black-eyed
+peas. She was intensely affectionate and where she loved, she loved so
+fiercely that it positively hurt, she used to say. She was witty and
+clever but not much of a student, as is often the case where learning
+comes too easily. She was so generous it was embarrassing to her
+friends. Her talent lay in clothes. She knew more about clothes than
+Paquin and Doucet and all the others. It positively hurt her when her
+friends did not wear becoming clothes, just as it hurt her when she
+loved them so hard. The object of her life was to clothe her dear friend
+Thelma in dark blue velvet. Thelma was too proud to be clothed in
+anything that she had not paid for herself, and the consequence was that
+coarse blue serge was as near as she came to poor Billie's dream.
+
+Alice Fern seated herself on the front of a chair with very much of
+a lady-come-to-see expression and then formally entered into a
+conversation, going through the usual questions about when Molly had
+arrived and how old the baby was, polite inquiries regarding the
+relatives in Kentucky, etc.
+
+Molly was eager to get into the kitchen just for a moment to start Katy
+on the right track, well knowing that nothing would be doing until she
+did, but Alice Fern's arrival made that impossible. She would not in the
+least have minded excusing herself for a moment to the girls, but if
+Edwin Green had to wait until midnight for his dinner, she could not be
+guilty of such a breach of etiquette with the cousin-in-law, whose
+disapproval she felt was ever on the alert for a _raison d'etre_. A leg
+of lamb, and well grown lamb at that, must have plenty of time and the
+oven must be hot (something Katy knew nothing about), but the wife of
+Professor Green must not let his relatives know that she was such a poor
+manager as to have to leave the parlor to attend to cooking at a time in
+the afternoon when callers were supposed to be doing their calling.
+
+Alice Fern was really a very pretty young woman, and since she had
+nothing to do but attend to her person, she was always excellently well
+groomed. No blemish was allowed on her faultless complexion from sun or
+wind. An hour a day was religiously given up to massage and manicure.
+Her hair was always coiffed in the latest mode, and not one lock was
+ever known to be out of place. Her costume was ever of the richest and
+most stylish.
+
+On that afternoon, as she rode up in her closed electric car, dressed in
+a fawn-colored suit with spotless white gloves and spats, she really
+looked like a beautiful wax figure in a showcase. Beside her, poor Molly
+looked like a rumpled Madonna. She had on a very becoming blue linen
+house dress that she had donned as not only suitable for possible
+callers but also not too pure or good in which to cook her husband's
+food. The baby had delighted the admiring audience, before the arrival
+of Miss Fern, by clutching a handful of her mother's pretty hair and
+having to have her little pink fingers opened one by one to disengage
+them. No doubt it was a highly intelligent and charming performance, but
+it had played sad havoc with Molly's hair.
+
+"We are so glad you are back, Molly, for more reasons than one,"
+exclaimed Jo Crittenden, hoping to loosen the tension a little, when
+Alice had completed her perfunctory catechism. "When are you going to
+begin the Would-be Authors' Club?"
+
+"Oh, do begin soon!" begged Billie. "Thelma has turned out some
+scrumptious bits during vacation, and even I have busted loose on
+paper."
+
+"Yes, I have written a lot this summer," said Thelma, as Molly smiled on
+her. "Have you done anything, or has the baby kept you too busy?"
+
+"Oh, I had plenty of time while I was in Kentucky. You see, out there I
+have a very good servant and then my mother helps me with Mildred. I
+have finished a short story and sent it off. Of course, I am expecting
+it back by every mail."
+
+"I should think your household cares would prevent your giving much time
+to scribbling," sniffed Alice, if one could call the utterances of such
+an elegant dame sniffing.
+
+"Scribbling! Why, Mrs. Green has written real things and been in real
+magazines," stormed Billie.
+
+"Ah, indeed!"
+
+"Yes, and if we had not limited the Would-be Authors to twenty, we would
+have the whole of Wellington clamoring to join," declared Jo, who
+considered it was high time for a perfect gentleman to step in and let
+Miss Alice Fern know how Wellington felt toward Mrs. Edwin Green.
+
+Miss Fern said nothing but stared at the corner of the room that Edwin
+and Molly called: "The Poet's Corner." It was where all the poetry,
+ancient, medieval and modern, found shelf room. Over it hung
+Shakespeare's epitaph, a framed rubbing from the tomb, the same that
+Edwin had always kept over his desk in his bachelor days to scare his
+housekeeper, Mrs. Brady, into sparing his precious papers.
+
+     "Good frend for Isus sake forbeare
+      To digg ye dust encloased heare
+      Bleste be ye man yt spares thes stones
+      And curst be he yt moves my bones."
+
+She kept her eyes so glued to the spot over the book shelves that
+finally all turned involuntarily to see what she was gazing on so
+intently. There it hung! There was no denying it or overlooking it: a
+great black cobweb that must have been there for several generations of
+spiders. No doubt it had taken all summer to weave such a mighty web and
+catch and hold so much grime.
+
+Molly blushed furiously. For a moment, she almost hated Katy and she
+wholly hated Alice Fern. That elegant damsel had a supercilious
+expression on her aristocratic countenance that said as plainly as
+though she had given utterance to her thoughts:
+
+"Author's Club, indeed! She had much better clean her house."
+
+Molly was suddenly conscious that every corner was festooned with
+similar webs. The late afternoon sun was slanting in the windows and its
+searching rays had found and were showing up every grain of dust. The
+panes of glass were, to say the least, grimy.
+
+"Oh!" she faltered, "I didn't know it was so--so--dusty in here. Katy,
+the new maid, was supposed to have cleaned it before I came."
+
+"What do you care for a few Irishman's curtains?" said the
+hero-worshipping Billie. "No one noticed them until--ahem--until the
+sun came in the window." She _said_ sun came in the window but she
+plainly _meant_ Fern came in the door.
+
+"I haven't had time to do much housekeeping since I got back," continued
+Molly, lamely. "The new maid, Katy, that Edwin got from New York, is
+most inefficient but so good-natured that I am hoping to train her. The
+truth of the matter is that she and I spent the whole morning doing
+things for Mildred and we let the house go. I am going to have a big
+cleaning to-morrow."
+
+Molly felt like weeping with mortification and she began to hate herself
+for making explanations and excuses to Alice Fern. Even if she kept
+Professor Green's house festooned in cobwebs from attic to cellar and
+had dust over everything thick enough to write your name, what business
+was it of this perfect person? She suddenly realized, too, that that
+perfect person had never uttered a word although she had looked volumes.
+
+Miss Fern arose from her prim seat and made a rather hasty retreat. The
+relieved Molly excused herself to the girls and rushed to the kitchen to
+start Katy on the dinner that should have been on half an hour before.
+What was her chagrin to find the fire only just kindled, as Katy had let
+it go out so that she might polish the stove. The Irish girl was on her
+knees "scroobing," happy in a sea of soap suds.
+
+Molly almost had hysterics. How could she ever get things done? Edwin
+would be home any moment now and she could not stand having a miserable
+underdone dinner for him, nor could she stand having his dinner hours
+late. She realized that there was no use in reprimanding Katy,--the girl
+was simply ignorant. She asked her gently to postpone her "scroobing"
+until later and to wash her hands and prepare the vegetables. Then she
+piled kindling wood in the range until the chimney roared so that Katy
+said it sounded like a banshee. The oven must be hot for the roast.
+
+"I tell you what to do, Katy: make some tea immediately and slice some
+bread quite thin, open this box of peanut cookies, and we will have such
+a grand tea that the master won't be hungry until the roast is done."
+
+"And phwat a schmart trick!" laughed the girl.
+
+When Miss Fern made her adieux, Molly had flown so quickly to the
+kitchen that she had not seen her husband crossing the campus. Alice
+Fern had seen him, however, and her greeting of him was so warm and
+friendly, her smile so charming and her manner so cordial that she
+hardly seemed the same person who had just left poor Molly stuttering
+and stammering apologies over her Irishman's curtains.
+
+"Look at the pill!" exclaimed Jo. "She is about to eat up Epimenides
+Antinous Green." That was the name Professor Green was known by at
+Wellington.
+
+"Did you ever see any one cast such a damper over a crowd without saying
+a single word? I thought Molly was going to cry," declared Billie.
+
+"I think our friend is looking very tired," said Thelma. "I wish we
+could do something for her. She says this new maid is almost worse than
+none at all."
+
+"I've got a scheme!" squealed Billie. "I know of a way to help. Gather
+'round me, girls!" And then such another whispering as went on in the
+house--while Molly behaved like triplets in the kitchen, being in at
+least three places at one time in her determination to get dinner on the
+stove. Mildred lay on the divan, happy with her newly found toes, and
+Edwin helped Alice Fern into her glass show case.
+
+"I appreciate your coming to see my wife so soon, Alice. I should so
+like to have you and Molly be close friends."
+
+"Thank you, Edwin, I am sure nothing would please me more. You must
+bring Molly out to see us." Could this be the same person who had made
+the living room look so dusty and ill kempt only a few minutes before,
+this gracious, charming, sweet, friendly creature, who doted on babies?
+She had paid no attention to Mildred except to give her a tentative poke
+with her daintily gloved finger, but to hear her conversation with
+Edwin, one would have gathered that she was a supreme lover of children.
+
+The girls would not stay to tea, although Molly pressed them, but full
+of some scheme, they hurried off.
+
+Dinner was not so very late, after all, and the tea and bread and peanut
+cookies saw to it that the professor was not too hungry before the leg
+of lamb had reached the proper stage of serving. Molly was too much of a
+culinary artist not to feel elated when things turned out right, which
+they usually did if she could get her finger in the pie. The day had
+been a very trying one for her. The sleepless night had left her little
+strength to grapple with it and the slow stupidity of Katy was very
+irritating. It was over at last, however, and dear little Mildred had
+decided to let her pigs rest and had gone quietly to sleep at the
+proper time that a well-trained infant should. Edwin was smoking his
+after-dinner pipe and everything was very peaceful and pleasant. Molly
+was trying to keep her eyes open, ashamed to confess that she was so
+sleepy she could hardly see.
+
+She lay back in the easy chair while Edwin read aloud from his scrap
+book of fugitive verse. This scrap book Professor Green had started when
+he was in college, putting in only the rare, fine things he found in
+magazine reading. Molly had helped him in his collecting and now the
+volume was assuming vast proportions.
+
+Suddenly Molly's upturned eyes rested on the terrible cobweb that had
+been her Waterloo of the afternoon. How black and threatening it looked!
+She hoped Edwin would not see it. And the books! Actually you had to
+open one and beat it and blow it before you dared begin to read. All
+this must be cleaned to-morrow and oh, how tired she was!
+
+"Did not Alice look lovely this afternoon?" said Edwin, stopping his
+reading for a moment. "I hope you and she are going to be great
+friends. I think it was very nice for her to come so soon to call on
+you. She spoke so sweetly of the baby, too."
+
+Molly said nothing but gazed at the cobweb. She said nothing but she did
+some thinking:
+
+"Molly Brown, what right have you, just because you are tired and Alice
+Fern came to call on you, looking very pretty and very beautifully
+dressed, and found you all frumpy and your living room looking like
+a pig sty, what right have you, I say, to sulk? Now you answer your
+husband and tell him Alice was pretty and don't tell him anything else."
+Accordingly, after giving herself the mental chastisement, Molly emitted
+a faint:
+
+"Yes, very pretty!" But it was so faint and so far away that Edwin
+looked at her in alarm, and then it was that she could stand nothing
+more and broke down and shed a few tears.
+
+"Why, Molly, my dearest girl, what is the matter?"
+
+"Nothing, but I am tired and everything is so dirty. Look at the
+cobwebs! Look at the dust on the books! Look at me! I am an old frowsy,
+untidy frump."
+
+"You! Why, honey, you are always lovely. As for dust--don't bother about
+that. Let me read you this wonderful little poem by Gertrude Hall. I
+clipped it years ago."
+
+Professor Green saw that Molly was tired and unstrung and he well knew
+that nothing soothed her more than poetry. Of course, man-like, he had
+no idea that what he had said about Alice Fern's looking so sweet had
+been too much for her, as she had contrasted herself all the afternoon
+with her husband's immaculate cousin. Molly wiped away the foolish tears
+as Edwin read the poem.
+
+
+"THE DUST.
+
+By Gertrude Hall.
+
+    It settles softly on your things,
+      Impalpable, fine, light, dull, gray;
+    The dingy dust-clout Betty brings,
+      And, singing, brushes it away:
+
+    And it's a queen's robe, once so proud,
+      And it's the moths fed in its fold,
+    It's leaves, and roses, and the shroud,
+      Wherein an ancient Saint was rolled.
+
+    And it is beauty's golden hair,
+      And it is genius' wreath of bay,
+    And it is lips once red and fair
+      That kissed in some forgotten May."
+
+"It is lovely, exquisite!" breathed Molly. "I don't feel nearly so bad
+about it as I did."
+
+But she did wish that Alice Fern had not seen that black, black cobweb.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+HEROES AND HERO WORSHIPERS.
+
+
+The next morning poor Molly slept late again. With all good intentions
+of waking early and going down stairs in time to see about her husband's
+neglected breakfast, when morning came she did not stir. Mildred had
+given her another wakeful night after all, finding out more things about
+her little pigs. Finally the little monkey had given up and dropped off
+to sleep, and she and her doting mother were both dead to the world when
+the time came for Professor Green to go to lectures.
+
+Again he gave instructions to Katy not to disturb the mistress and crept
+out of the house as still as a mouse. Breakfast had been a little
+better. Molly was rubbing off on Katy evidently. Just to associate with
+such a culinary genius as Molly must have its effect even on the worst
+cook in the world, which Katy surely seemed to be.
+
+Coming across the campus, he ran into Billie McKym, Josephine Crittenden
+and Thelma Olsen. They looked very bright and rosy as they gave him a
+cheery good morning. Each carried a bundle. He wondered that they were
+going away from lecture halls instead of toward them. But after all, it
+was not his business to be the whipper-in for lectures. Wellington was a
+college and not a boarding school. If students chose to cut lectures, it
+was their own affair until the final reckoning.
+
+"Just our luck to meet Epimenides Antinous!" cried Billie. "He should
+have been out of the house five minutes ago, at least."
+
+"His legs are so long he doesn't have to start early," declared Jo.
+"Just see him sprint!"
+
+"I am certainly sorry to cut his lecture to-day," sighed Thelma, "but
+this thing must be done."
+
+The Greens' front door was never locked except at night, so the girls
+crept quietly in. Billie peeped into the kitchen, where she discovered
+Katy on her knees "scroobing" the part of the kitchen she could not
+finish the evening before, when Molly was so hard-hearted as to make
+her stop and prepare vegetables. Such a sea of suds!
+
+"Katy," whispered Billie.
+
+"Merciful Mither! And phwat is it? Ye scart me," and the girl sat back
+on her heels and looked at Billie with round, wide eyes.
+
+"We are great friends of Mrs. Green and we have come to dust her books
+and--ahem--do a few little things. Is she still asleep?"
+
+"Yis, and the master was after saying she must not be distoorbed, not on
+no account."
+
+"Of course she must not be! That is why we have come to dust the things.
+We think she looks so tired."
+
+"And so she is, the scwate lamb; but she do fly around so, and she do
+cook up so mooch. I tell her that she thinks more of her man's insides
+thin she do of her own outsides."
+
+"Well, Katy, we want you to let us have a broom and a wall brush. We
+brought our own aprons and rags," and Billie pressed a round, hard
+something into Katy's hand. It was not so large as a church door nor
+so deep as a well, but it served to get the Irish girl up off of her
+run-down heels; and in a trice the coveted broom and wall brush were in
+possession of the three conspirators, as well as a stepladder, which
+they decided would be needful.
+
+"Don't say a word to Mrs. Green, Katy,--now remember. We are going to
+work very quietly and hope to finish before she gets downstairs. We
+don't want her to know who did it, but we mean to get it all done
+before noon," said Jo, rolling up her sport shirtsleeves and disclosing
+muscular arms, that showed what athletics had done for her and what she
+could do for athletics.
+
+"Where must we begin, Thelma?" asked Billie, who was as willing as could
+be but knew no more about cleaning than a hog does about holidays, Jo
+declared.
+
+"Begin at the top," laughed Thelma, tying up her yellow head in a great
+towel and rolling up her sleeves.
+
+"Gee, your arms are beautiful!" exclaimed Billie. "I'd give my head for
+such arms. I'd like to drape them in a silver scarf. Think how they
+would gleam through." The arms were snow white and while Thelma's
+strength was much greater than Jo's, her muscles did not show as they
+did on that athletic young person.
+
+Thelma blushed and laughed as she balanced herself on a stepladder and
+began taking down pictures. A cloud of dust floated down and enveloped
+her.
+
+"Look, look! She looks like the 'white armed Gudrun'! Don't you remember
+in William Morris's 'Fall of the Neiblungs'? The battle in Atli's Hall?
+
+    "'Lo, lo, in the hall of the Murder where the white-armed
+            Gudrun stands,
+      Aloft by the kingly high-seat, and nought empty are her
+            hands;
+      For the litten brand she beareth, and the grinded war-sword
+            bare:
+      Still she stands for a little season till day groweth white
+            and fair.
+      Without the garth of King Atli, but within, a wavering
+            cloud
+      Rolls, hiding the roof and the roof-sun; then she stirrith
+            and crieth aloud.'"
+
+"Cut it out! Cut it out!" cried Jo, "and come lend a hand."
+
+"Mustn't we dust before we sweep?" innocently asked Billie.
+
+"If you want to, but you'll have to dust again afterwards," said the
+white-armed Gudrun from her ladder. "The books are really so dirty that
+I don't think it would hurt to wipe down the walls without covering
+them, but that is a mighty poor cleaning method. Poor Molly! Didn't she
+look tired yesterday? I hope she won't think we are cheeky to take a
+hand in her affairs."
+
+"Cheeky! She will think we are her good friends, not like that snippy
+Miss Fern who stared so at the cobwebs and then went out and palavered
+over Epimenides Antinous. She used to claim him, so I am told. One of
+the nurses at the infirmary told me that when Epi Anti had typhoid
+there, years ago, Miss Fern came and dressed herself up like a nurse and
+almost bored the staff to death taking care of her sick cousin," said
+Billie, delighted with the job that had been given her of wiping down
+walls. "Isn't this splendid? Just look at all the dirt I got on my
+rag!"
+
+"Well, don't rub it back on the wall," admonished Jo.
+
+"No. Well, what must I do with it?"
+
+"Can't say, but don't put it back on the walls."
+
+"Jo, you and Billie dust the books and I will finish up the pictures.
+I can't trust myself to dust Professor Green's books. I am afraid of
+breaking the tenth commandment all the time," sighed Thelma. "I'll wash
+the windows, too."
+
+"Oh, Thelma! The white-armed Gudrun sitting in windows washing them!
+That's not occupation meet for a queen. Let me do it."
+
+"You, Billie McKym, wash a window! Did you ever wash one in your life?"
+
+"Well, no, not exactly, but I bet I could. What's the use of a college
+education if one can't wash windows when she gets to be a full grown
+senior?"
+
+But since the object of the girls was to get the room clean, it was
+decided that Thelma was to wash the windows. My, how they worked! Jo
+found she had muscles that her athletics had never revealed. She found
+them because they began to ache.
+
+"Why, to dust all these books and books is as bad as building a house,"
+she said, straightening up and stretching when she had finished the
+poet's corner.
+
+"Exactly like laying brick," declared Billie. "I'm going to join the
+Hod-carriers' Union. I'll be no scab."
+
+Katy had occasionally poked her head in at the door, entreating "whin
+they coom to the scroobing" to call her.
+
+The cleaners made very little noise, so little that the sleeping Molly
+and Mildred were not at all disturbed.
+
+"I wish she knew it was almost done," said Thelma, perched in the window
+sill and rubbing vigorously on a shining pane. "She would be so glad. I
+know she is worrying about it in her sleep. Hark! There is the baby!"
+
+Then began the business of the day upstairs. Katy was called, for water
+must be heated as Katy, according to her habit, had let the fire go out
+before the boiler was hot.
+
+"Katy, we must hurry up with Mildred this morning and get to the
+library. It is filthy," said Molly, as she slipped the little French
+flannel petticoat over Mildred's bald head.
+
+"Yes, mum!" grinned Katy.
+
+"We have luncheon almost ready, with the cold lamb to start with."
+
+"Yes, mum."
+
+"Don't you think you could get the dining room cleaned while I am
+attending to the baby?"
+
+"Yes, mum, if yez can schpare me."
+
+"Oh, I think I can. But, Katy, before you go hand me that basket. And,
+Katy, perhaps you had better wash out this flannel skirt. I am so afraid
+she might run short of them. You can empty the water now--and, Katy,
+please hold the baby's hand while I tie this ribbon, she is such a
+wiggler--and, Katy--a little boiled water now for her morning tipple.
+She must drink lots of water to keep in good health."
+
+"Yes, mum, and how aboot breakfast for yez, mum?"
+
+"Oh, I forgot my breakfast! Of course I must eat some breakfast. I'll
+come down to it."
+
+"Oh, no, mum! And let me be after bringing it oop to yez, mum," insisted
+the wily Katy, who was anxious for the youthful house cleaners to
+accomplish their dark and secret mission without interruption. Not only
+was it great fun, a huge joke, in fact, for her to be paid fifty cents
+to let others do her work, but it meant that since others were doing it,
+she would not have to, and she could have just that much more time for
+"scroobing" and resting. A tray was accordingly got ready and Molly
+found she had a little more appetite than the morning before; also, that
+Katy's food was really a little better.
+
+"Your coffee is better this morning, Katy," she said, believing that
+praise for feats accomplished but egged on the servitor to other and
+greater effort.
+
+"Yes, mum, so the master said."
+
+"Poor Edwin," thought Molly, "how I have neglected him. I must do
+better. But if I don't wake up, I don't wake up. If I could only get a
+little nap in the day time. Mother always wanted me to take one, but how
+can I? The living room must be cleaned to-day." She felt weary at the
+thought. Accustomed as she was to being out of doors a great deal, she
+really needed the fresh air.
+
+"As soon as luncheon is over, we must get busy with the cleaning. I wish
+we might have done it in the forenoon, but I am afraid it is too late."
+
+"Yes, mum, it's too late!" and Katy indulged in such a hearty giggle
+that her mistress began to think perhaps she was feeble-minded as well
+as inefficient.
+
+"Is the table in the dining room cleared off, Katy, so you can set it
+for luncheon?"
+
+"No, mum, it is not!"
+
+"Oh, Katy! What have you been doing all morning?"
+
+"Well, mum, I scroobed my kitchen, and--and----"
+
+"And what?" demanded Molly.
+
+"And I did a little head work in the liberry, that is, I----"
+
+"Oh, Katy, did you clean the living room, clean it well?"
+
+"Well, mum, yez can wait and see if it schoots yez," and Katy beat a
+hasty retreat to warn the cleaners that the mistress was about to
+descend.
+
+The room presented a very different appearance to what it had before the
+girls rolled up their sleeves. The slanting afternoon sun would seek out
+no dusty corners now; everything was spick and span. The books no longer
+had to be beaten and blown before you dared open them, and they stood in
+neat and orderly rows; the walls held no decorations in the shape of
+Irishman's curtains now; the picture glass shone, as did the window
+panes; the rugs were out in the back yard sunning after a vigorous
+beating and brushing from Thelma, whom Billie called "the powerful
+Katrinka."
+
+The floor, being the one part of the room that Katy had put some licks
+on, did not need anything more serious than a dusting after everything
+else was done.
+
+"Katy, you might bring in the rugs now as we have done everything else,"
+suggested Billie. Katy went out into the back yard and bundled up the
+rugs. Molly, seeing her from an upper window, smiled her approval.
+
+"I believe she is going to do very well," she said to herself. "She
+seems to be trying, and she is so fond of Mildred."
+
+"Come on, girls, we must hurry and get off! Molly will be down stairs
+any minute now and she must not see us," and Thelma unwound the towel
+from her head and took off her apron.
+
+"Well, surely the white-armed Gudrun is not going across the campus with
+a black face," objected Billie. "Why, both of you look like negro
+minstrels----"
+
+"And you!" interrupted Jo. "You should see yourself before you talk
+about kettles. You'd have not a leg to stand on and not a handle to your
+name. I told you to tie up your head. I believe nothing short of a
+shampoo and a Turkish bath will get the grime off you."
+
+"Let's hide behind the sofa and after Molly goes on the porch with the
+baby, we can sneak up to the bath room," suggested Thelma. The girls
+then crouched on the floor behind a sofa that stood near the poet's
+corner.
+
+In a minute Molly came down the stairs, little Mildred in her arms and
+on her face a contented and rested expression. She stood in the doorway
+of the living room and exclaimed with delight over its polished
+cleanliness.
+
+"Oh, Katy, how splendid it is! Did you do it all by yourself and in such
+a short time? I don't see how you managed it. Why, you have even dusted
+the books. That is almost a day's work in itself. I was dreading it
+so,--it is such a back breaking job."
+
+Jo rubbed her aching back, with a grim smile, and nudged Billie.
+
+"And you have kept yourself so clean, too!" Molly began to feel that she
+had the prize servant of the east: one who could clean such an Augean
+Stable as that room had looked, dust all the books, wash the windows and
+wipe down walls, beat rugs, polish picture glass, etc., etc., and still
+be neat and tidy. "Why, I would have been black all over if I had done
+such a great work."
+
+Katy stood by, quite delighted with the undeserved praise. The young
+ladies had told her not to tell and far be it from her to refuse to
+accept the unaccustomed praise from any one. She had never been very apt
+in any work she had undertaken and no one had ever taken any great pains
+to teach her, and now if this pretty lady wanted to praise her, why she
+was more than willing. She felt in her pocket for her fifty cent piece,
+that still seemed a great joke to her. The sweet taste of the praise did
+one great thing in her kindly Irish soul: it was so pleasant, she
+determined to have more of it, and through her slow intelligence there
+filtered the fact that to get more praise, she must deserve more praise,
+and to deserve it she must work for it. She beat a hasty retreat to the
+dining room and actually cleared off the table, where the master had
+eaten his solitary breakfast, in a full run. She broke no dishes that
+morning, either, which was a great step forward.
+
+Molly could not tear herself away from the wonder room. She moved
+around, busying herself changing ornaments a bit and placing chairs at
+a slightly different angle, doing those little things that make a room
+partake of a certain personality.
+
+"Here, baby, lie on the sofa, honey. Muddy is going to give you a little
+ride. Do you know, darling, that Katy knows how to put things in place
+just like a lady? She must have an artistic soul. Look how she has
+arranged the mantel-piece! Servants usually make things look so stiff.
+Actually there is nothing for me to do in the room, she has done it so
+beautifully."
+
+Billy here dug an elbow into Jo's lame back that almost made her squeal,
+but she held on to her emotions and in turn gave her chum a fourth
+degree pinch.
+
+"Now, Muddy is going to ride her baby--this sofa must go closer to the
+wall," and Molly put Mildred on the sofa and gave it a vigorous push.
+The law of impenetrability, that two things cannot be in the same place
+at the same time, prevented the baby from having much of a ride. Molly
+gave a harder push. "I must be very feeble if I can't budge this sofa."
+
+Then came a smothered groan from the huddled girls, and one by one they
+emerged from their corner, clutching their bundles of dust rags and
+aprons and exposing to Molly's amazed eyes three of the very blackest,
+dirtiest faces that ever Wellington had boasted in her senior class.
+
+They sat on the floor and laughed and giggled, and Molly sat down beside
+them and would have felt like a college girl again herself if it had not
+been for little Mildred, who took all the laughter as an entertainment,
+got up for her express amusement, and gurgled accordingly.
+
+"Now you must all stay to luncheon!" cried the hospitable Molly.
+
+"Oh, indeed we mustn't," said Billie, who never could quite get used to
+Molly's wholesale hospitality, having been brought up in the lap of
+luxury but with no privileges of inviting persons off hand to meals.
+
+"But you must. I won't do a thing for you but just put on more plates.
+I was going to have the very simplest meal and I'll still have it."
+
+The girls stayed, after giving themselves a vigorous scrubbing, and
+Molly's luncheon was ready when Professor Green arrived. The cold leg of
+lamb played a noble part at the impromptu party, flanked by a lettuce
+salad that Billie insisted upon dressing, reminding Molly more than ever
+of her darling Judy. A barrel of preserves had just arrived, some that
+Molly and Kizzie had put up during the summer. On opening it, a jar of
+blackberry jam, being on top, was chosen to grace the occasion. Molly
+made some of the tiny biscuit that her husband loved and that seemed
+such a joke to Katy. When she came in bearing a plate of hot ones, she
+spread her mouth in a grin so broad that Professor Green declared she
+could easily have disposed of six at one mouthful.
+
+"I always call them Gulliver biscuit," he said, helping himself to three
+at a time, "because in the old Gulliver's Travels I used to read when I
+was a kid there was a picture of Gulliver being fed by the Lilliputians.
+He was represented by a great head, and the Lilliputians were climbing
+up his face by ladders and pouring down his throat barrels of little
+biscuit that were just about the size of these."
+
+They had a merry time at that meal. Molly told her husband why his prize
+pupils had cut his lectures and all others that morning, and how she had
+almost passed a steam roller over them in form of the library sofa.
+
+"We were terribly afraid we would offend her," explained Thelma, "but
+she was dear to us."
+
+"Offend me! Why, I can't think of anything in all my life that has ever
+happened to me that has touched me more. I don't see how you ever
+thought of doing anything so nice."
+
+"'Twas Billie," from Thelma.
+
+"Thelma and Jo did all the dirty work," declared Billie.
+
+"Dirty work, indeed! You looked as though you had used yourself to wipe
+down the walls with," laughed Jo.
+
+"Well, anyhow, when that snippy Miss Fern comes again, giving her
+perfunctory pokes at the baby and looking at the cobwebs until nobody
+can help seeing them, I bet she won't find anything to turn up her nose
+at. I'd like to use her to clean the walls with. If there is anything I
+hate it is any one who is the pink of perfection in her own eyes. We
+were having such a cozy time until she lit on us with her dove-colored
+effects. Who cared whether there were cobwebs or not?"
+
+"Did Miss Fern speak of the cobwebs?" asked Edwin, while the others sat
+around in frozen horror, remembering that she was his cousin and that he
+was evidently very fond of her.
+
+"Oh, no, she didn't open her lips; she just pursed them up and stared
+at the corner. Of course, she had already given her dig about Molly's
+surely not having time to write and attend to her house, too; and then
+when she fixed her eyes on that Irishman's curtain we all knew what she
+was thinking, and that she wanted us to know it, just as well as though
+she had spoken it and then written it and then had it put on the
+minutes.... What's the matter?... Oh, Heavens! What have I done?... Oh,
+Professor Green! She is your cousin! Please, please forgive me," and
+Billie clasped her hands in entreaty.
+
+"Oh, don't mind me," said the professor with a twinkle. "Go as far as
+you like. If the ladies have such open minds that he who runs may read,
+and they think disagreeable things about my wife, why, they deserve to
+be used for house cleaning purposes, have the floor wiped up with them
+and what not."
+
+The luncheon broke up in a laugh and evidently there were no hard
+feelings on the part of the host for the criticism of Miss Fern that
+had so ingenuously fallen from the lips of the irrepressible Billie.
+
+"Billie! What a break!" screamed Jo, when they got outside after Molly
+had given them all an extra hug for the undying proof of friendship they
+had given her.
+
+"Break, indeed! I never forgot for an instant that Epi Anti was a near
+cousin to that maidenhair fern. I just thought I'd let him know how
+she had acted and how uncomfortable she had made our Molly feel. I
+knew Molly would never let him know, and I could do it and make out it
+was a break."
+
+"Well, if you aren't like Bret Harte's heathen Chinee, I never saw one,"
+laughed Thelma.
+
+    "'Which I wish to remark,
+      And my language is plain,
+      That for ways that are dark
+      And for tricks that are vain,
+      The heathen Chinee is peculiar.'"
+
+"All the same, I bet old Epi Anti doesn't tell Molly any more what a
+sweet thing Alice Fern is."
+
+"How do you know he did?"
+
+"Insight into human nature," and Billie made a saucy moue.
+
+"Gee, my back aches!" said Jo. "I think I'll do housework often. It
+certainly does reach muscles we don't know about. But didn't it pay just
+to see dear old Molly's face when we rolled out from behind the sofa?"
+
+And all of them agreed it had.
+
+"Edwin," said Molly, after the girls had gone, "I think I'll send for
+Kizzie to come help me. I may put her in the kitchen and take Katy for a
+nurse."
+
+"Good! I am certainly glad you have come to that decision. What changed
+you?"
+
+"Well, it seems to me that when it comes to the pass that my college
+girls feel so sorry for me they cut such lectures as yours to give the
+whole morning to cleaning up for me I must do something, and the only
+thing I can think of doing is to send for Kizzie."
+
+"Can you mix the black and white without coming to grief?"
+
+"Remember, Katy is more green than white, and she is so good-natured,
+she could get along with anything."
+
+"I can't tell you how relieved I am, honey. I wanted you to do what
+pleased you, but I could not see how I was coming in on this. I felt
+very lonesome, and while I wasn't jealous of the baby, I was certainly
+envious of her. If Kizzie comes, you can be with me more and nurse me
+some."
+
+"Yes, dearie, I missed it, too, but somehow I couldn't get through. If
+Katy had been more competent----"
+
+"But she wasn't and isn't."
+
+"No, she certainly isn't, but she adores Mildred already and Mildred
+actually cries for her. I believe she would make a fine nurse. If only
+she doesn't feel called upon to scrub the baby."
+
+Edwin laughed and, settling himself for a pleasant smoke, opened the
+morning paper, which neither he nor Molly had found time to read.
+
+"Oh, what a shame!" he exclaimed. "The Germans dropping bombs on Paris!
+Infamous!"
+
+"Paris! How can they? Oh, Edwin, Judy and Kent both there!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE.
+
+
+When the teller of a tale has to fly from one side of the ocean to the
+other in the twinkling of an eye, as it were, at any rate between
+chapters, and the persons in the tale have no communication with one
+another except by letters that are more than likely to be tampered with
+on the high seas, it is a great comfort to find that all the characters
+have at last arrived at the same date. On that morning after the
+dropping of bombs when Judy, dressed in her sad mourning garb, was
+selling spinach and tarts to the hungry occupants of the Montparnasse
+quarter, Molly, allowing for the difference in time, was oversleeping
+herself after a wakeful night and the college girls were quietly
+cleaning her living room. Kent and Jim Castleman were stretching
+themselves luxuriously in the not too comfortable beds of the _Haute
+Loire_ preparatory to making themselves presentable, first to find
+Judy, and then to find the general who, no doubt, would be glad to have
+the Kentucky giant enlist in the ranks, even though his letter of
+introduction and credentials had gone to the bottom with the _Hirondelle
+de Mer_. Jim Castleman's appearance was certainly credential enough that
+he would make a good fighter.
+
+A bath and a shave did much towards making our young men presentable.
+Kent with a needle and thread, borrowed from the chambermaid, darned the
+knees of his trousers so that they did very well just so long as he did
+not try to sit down; then the strain would have been too much. Jim's
+were hopelessly short.
+
+"Nothing but a flounce would save me, so I'll have to go around at high
+water mark; but I'll soon be in a uniform, I hope."
+
+They had breakfast in a little cafe where Kent had often gone while he
+was a student at the Beaux Arts, and there Jim Castleman astonished the
+madame by ordering four eggs. She couldn't believe it possible that any
+one could eat that much _dejeuner_ and so cooked his eggs four minutes.
+His French was quite sketchy but he plunged manfully in with what he had
+and finally came out with breakfast enough to last until luncheon. Kent
+was willing to do the talking for him but he would none of it.
+
+"Let me do it myself! I'll learn how to get something to eat if I starve
+in the attempt."
+
+And now for Judy! Kent could hardly wait for his famished friend to eat
+his two orders of rolls and coffee and his four eggs, but at last he was
+through.
+
+First to the bank! No, they did not know where Mlle. Kean was. She had
+been in once to get money but they were sorry they could not honour her
+letter of credit. She had left no address.
+
+Then to the American Club! Judy had been in the day before for mail, and
+had had quite a budget. She had left no address, but came for letters
+always when the American mail was reported in.
+
+Where could she be?
+
+Next, to his cousin, the Marquise d'Ochte, on the Faubourg!
+
+The venerable porter, at the porte-cochere, who came in answer to the
+vigorous ring that the now very uneasy Kent gave the bell, said that
+none of the family was within and they had no visitor. Madame the
+Marquise had gone to the front only the day before, but was coming home
+soon to open a hospital in her own home. Even then the workmen were busy
+carrying out her orders, packing away books, pictures, ornaments, rugs
+and what not so that the house would be the more suitable to care for
+the wounded. The Marquis and Philippe were both with their regiments.
+The old porter was sad and miserable. Jules, the butler, was gone; also
+Gaston, the chef whose sauces were beyond compare. Madame had taken
+great hampers of food with her, even going to Montparnasse for tarts
+from Tricots'.
+
+Kent turned sadly away. Judy was somewhere, but where? Her letter to
+Molly telling of her being in the Bents' studio had come after Kent
+left Kentucky and he had no way of knowing that she was there. Polly
+Perkins and his wife, he knew were in the thick of the battle from the
+first letter he had seen from Judy. Where was Pierce Kinsella? He had
+not heard from his studio mate and friend but he rather thought there
+was little chance of finding him. At any rate, he determined to go to
+the Rue Brea and see if the concierge there knew anything of the lost
+damsel.
+
+They found a crowd at the entrance to the court on which the studios
+fronted. The concierge in the midst of them was waving her arms and
+talking excitedly.
+
+"Yes, and the first I heard was a click! click! click! and that, it
+seems, was the terrible thing flying over us and then an explosion that
+deafened me. They say it was meant for the Luxembourg and they missed
+their mark. That I know nothing about----"
+
+"What is it? Tell me quick!" demanded Kent, elbowing his way through the
+crowd with the help of Jim, that renowned center rush.
+
+"Ah, Monsieur Brune!" she exclaimed, grasping his hand. "Did you know
+that a dirty Prussian had sent a bomb right down through the skylight of
+the good Bents' and now all their things are wrecked?"
+
+"The Bents'!" gasped Kent. "Was any one hurt?"
+
+"And that we can't say. The young lady has not been sleeping there
+lately but yesterday she came and got the key and did not return it, so
+I thought she must have slept there last night! This morning we can find
+no trace of her. The bomb did much damage, but surely it could not have
+destroyed her completely."
+
+"Destroyed her! What young lady?"
+
+"Why, Mademoiselle Kean, of course."
+
+Kent was glad of the strong arm of Jim Castleman. He certainly needed a
+support but only for a moment. He pushed through the crowd and made his
+way to the shattered wall of the studio. The bomb had not done so much
+damage as might have been expected. The front wall was fallen and the
+skylight was broken all over the floor. The chairs and easels were
+piled up like jackstraws at the beginning of a game. The bedrooms were
+uninjured but the balcony where Judy and Molly had slept that happy
+winter in Paris had fallen.
+
+Would Judy have slept up on the roost just for auld lang syne or would
+she have occupied a more comfortable bedroom? If she had been blown into
+such small bits that there was nothing to tell the tale, why should
+these other things have escaped? There were the blue tea cups in the
+china closet uninjured, although most of them were turned over, showing
+that the shock had reached them, too. What was that blue thing lying on
+the divan in the corner under untold debris?
+
+Kent pulled off the timbers and broken glass and unearthed Judy's blue
+serge dress, which was waiting to be dyed a dismal black. He clasped it
+in his arms in an agony of apprehension. Letters fell out of the pocket.
+He recognized his mother's handwriting, also Molly's. So, Judy had
+heard from Kentucky! He stuffed them back in the jacket.
+
+"Jim, I simply don't believe she was here. I couldn't have slept all
+night like such a lummux if she--if she----"
+
+"Yes, old fellow! I know! I don't believe she was here, either."
+
+"I just know I would have had some premonition of it! I would have been
+conscious of it if anything had been happening to Judy," which showed
+that Kent Brown was his mother's own son. He was not going to mourn the
+loss of a loved one until he was sure the loved one was gone, and he had
+her own unfailing faith that something could not have happened to one he
+cared for without his being aware of it.
+
+"Sure you would!" declared Jim, not at all sure but relieved that his
+friend was taking that view of the matter.
+
+"I know something that will be a positive proof whether she was here or
+not last night." Kent walked firmly to the bath room, which was behind
+the bed rooms and out of the path of the bomb. He threw open the door
+and looked eagerly on the little glass shelf for a tooth brush.
+
+"Not a sign of one. I know and you know that if Judy had been here last
+night her tooth brush would have been here, too. I am sure now! Come on,
+and let's look somewhere else."
+
+Kent went out with Judy's serge dress over his arm. The concierge looked
+sadly after him: "Her dress is all he has to cherish now. The poor young
+man! I used to see he was in love with her when Mrs. Brune was in the
+Bents' studio and her son occupied the one to the right with Mr.
+Kinsella. Oh, la la! _Mais la vie est amer!_"
+
+The crowd dispersed, since there was nothing more to see and the hour
+for _dejeuner a la fourchette_ was approaching. The concierge went off
+to visit her daughter who was ill. The studios were all empty now and
+her duties were light. Her husband was to see that no one entered the
+court to carry off the Bents' things, which were exposed pitifully to
+the gaze of the public until the authorities could do something. He,
+good man, waited a little while and then made his way to a neighbouring
+_brasserie_ to get his tumbler of absinthe, and one tumbler led to
+another and forgetfulness followed soon, and the Bents' studio
+properties were but dreams to his befuddled brain.
+
+Judy had spent a busy morning. Marie had gone to carry tarts to "the
+regiment" and all of the waiting in the shop fell on her. She did it
+gladly, thankful that she was so busy she could not think. She measured
+soup and weighed spinach and potato salad and wrapped up tarts until her
+back ached. Finally Mere Tricot came in from the baking of more tarts.
+
+"My child, go out for a while. You need the air. I am here now to feed
+these gourmands."
+
+"All right, Mother! I want to get my dress at the studio. Marie says she
+will dye it for me."
+
+"Certainly! Certainly! We can save many a sou by doing it ourselves. Go,
+child!"
+
+Judy put on her little mourning bonnet and sadly found her way to the
+Rue Brea.
+
+"I wonder where the bomb hit last night. Pere Tricot said near the
+Luxembourg."
+
+What was her amazement to find the poor studio in ruins. No concierge to
+tell her a thing about it, for her lodge was locked tight and no one
+near. Judy picked her way sadly over the fallen front wall.
+
+"I'll get my dress, anyhow." But although she was sure it had been on
+the divan in the studio, no dress was to be found.
+
+"Well, I'll have to have something to wear besides this thin waist. I am
+cold now, and what will I do when winter, real winter comes? I shall
+have to send to Giverny for my trunk, and no telling what it will cost
+to get it here. Oh, oh, how am I to go on? I wish to God I had been
+sleeping on that balcony when the bomb struck. Then I would have been at
+peace."
+
+Judy gave herself up to the despair that was in her heart. She made a
+thorough search for the suit through the poor wrecked apartment but no
+sign of it could she see. She went sadly back to the delicatessen shop
+and stepped behind the counter, her hat still on, to assist the good
+Mother Tricot, who was being besieged with customers.
+
+"Take off your hat, child. Here is a fresh cap of Marie's and an apron.
+Did you get your dress?"
+
+Judy told her kind friend of the bomb-wrecked studio and her lost suit.
+
+"Oh, the vandals! The wretches! There must be a Prussian in our midst
+who would be so low as to steal your suit. No Frenchman would have done
+it. Before the war,--yes, but now there is not one who would do such a
+dastardly trick. We are all of one family now, high and low, rich and
+poor,--and we do not prey on one another."
+
+"Well, it makes very little difference," said Judy resignedly. "I'll
+send for my trunk. I have other suits in it."
+
+"Other suits! Oh, what riches!" but then the old woman considered that
+the friend of the Marquise d'Ochte perhaps had many other suits.
+
+Judy donned the cap and apron and went on with the shop keeping. No one
+could have told her from a poor little bereaved French girl. The cap
+was becoming, as was also the organdy collar. Her face was pale and her
+eyes full of unshed tears, but the sorrow had given to Judy's face
+something that her enemies might have said it had lacked: a softness and
+depth of feeling. Her friends knew that her heart was warm and true and
+that the feeling was there, but her life had been care free with no
+troubles except the scrapes that she had been as clever getting out of
+as she had been adroit getting in. She had many times considered herself
+miserable before but now she realized that all other troubles had
+been nothing--this was something she had had no conception of--this
+tightening of the heart strings, this hopeless feeling of the bottom
+having dropped out of the universe.
+
+She felt absolutely friendless, except for her dear Tricots. The Browns
+could never see her again. They must blame her, as it was all her fault
+that Kent had come for her. If she had not been so full of her own
+conceit, she would certainly have sailed for America when all the others
+did at the breaking out of the war. Her mother and father seemed as
+remote as though they were on another planet. The war might last for
+years and there seemed no chance of their leaving Berlin.
+
+"I'll just stay on here and earn my board and keep," she sighed. "The
+Tricots find me useful and they want me."
+
+In the meantime, Kent and Jim Castleman went and sat down in the Garden
+of the Luxembourg to smoke and talk it over, Kent still fondly clasping
+the serge dress.
+
+"I'll find her all right before night," declared Kent. "She'll be sure
+to go to the Bents' studio sometime to-day. I'll write a note and leave
+it with the concierge. I'll also leave a note at the American Club. She
+must go there twice a week at least. I'd like to know where the poor
+little thing is," and Kent heaved a sigh.
+
+"I bet she is all right, wherever she is," comforted Jim. "Say, Brown,
+I don't like to mention it, but I am starved to death."
+
+"Not mention it! Why not?"
+
+"Well, you see when a pal is in trouble it seems so low to go get
+hungry."
+
+"But I'm not in trouble. Now if I thought that Judy had been in that
+place last night there would be something to be troubled about, but as
+it is, I just can't find her for a few hours, or maybe minutes. Where
+shall we eat?"
+
+"That's up to you. I'm getting mighty low in funds, so let's do it cheap
+but do it a plenty," and Jim looked rather ruefully at his few remaining
+francs.
+
+"I am still in funds but I shall have to go it mighty easy, too, to get
+Judy and me home. I tell you what we might do. Let's go to a shop where
+they have ready cooked food and bring it out here and eat it. They say
+you can live on half what it costs to eat in a restaurant. When I was
+studying over here I knew lots of fellows who lived that way. Of course,
+they had studios where they could take the stuff and eat it, but the
+Luxembourg Garden is good enough. I know a place where the Perkinses
+used to deal. They are the funny lot I told you about, the long-haired
+man and the short-haired woman. He is driving an ambulance now and
+goodness knows where she is."
+
+"Well, let's go to it. I am so hungry I can hardly waddle. These
+Continental breakfasts with nothing but bread and coffee don't fill me
+up half way."
+
+Kent smiled, remembering the two full orders and the four eggs his
+friend had tucked away, but he said nothing. Having a good appetite of
+his own, he had naught but sympathy for his famished friend.
+
+They left the garden and made for the shop where Jo and Polly Perkins
+had bought their ready cooked provisions.
+
+"These people make some little pies that are mighty good, too. We might
+get half a dozen or so of them as a top off," suggested Kent.
+
+"Fine! I've got a mouth for pie, all right."
+
+Judy had gone to the kitchen for a moment to bring to the fore the
+smoked tongue that Pere Tricot had been slicing in those paper-thin
+slices that he alone knew how to accomplish. She bore aloft a great
+platter of the viand, the even slices arranged like a wreath of autumn
+leaves. While she was still in the living room behind the shop, two
+strangers entered. Their backs being to the light, Judy only saw their
+silhouettes as they bent over the show cases eagerly discussing what
+selection of meats and vegetables they should make, while Mere Tricot,
+accustomed to slim-pocketed customers, patiently waited. Suddenly she
+leaned over the counter and touched something which one of the young men
+had thrown over his arm.
+
+"What is this?" she demanded with the manner she could so well assume,
+that of a woman of the Commune who meant to right her wrongs.
+
+The purchaser of sauce and potato salad, the two cheapest and most
+filling of the wares, held up rather sheepishly a blue serge suit.
+
+"Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle! Come quick! It is your suit--and no
+Frenchman, as I said, but a Prussian, no doubt."
+
+The grenadier slid quickly from behind the counter and putting her
+brawny arm out, held the door firmly, so that no escape could be
+possible.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+WASTED DYE.
+
+
+Judy emerged from behind the curtains which divided the family living
+room from the little shop, the platter of tongue held high. In her cap
+and apron, she reminded one of a Howard Pyle illustration for some
+holiday number of a magazine.
+
+"Gee, what a beaut!" exclaimed the taller of the two strangers.
+
+The one with the serge suit dropped it and made a rush for the girl. He
+had her in his arms, platter of tongue and all, before Mere Tricot could
+rescue it. But that dame managed to extricate the big dish before any
+greater damage was done than disarranging the effect of a wreath of
+autumn leaves.
+
+Hearts that were broken may be mended but platters of smoked tongue
+must not be dropped on the floor and smashed.
+
+"Oh, Judy gal, Judy gal! Tell me all about it!"
+
+"Kent! Kent! I thought you were drowned and have gone into mourning for
+you," sobbed Judy.
+
+As for Jim Castleman, in the most execrable and impossible French, he
+was explaining to good Mother Tricot how it all happened, and Father
+Tricot hastened to the shop from his carving to find out what it was all
+about, and then such a handshaking and hugging as ensued was never seen!
+
+"We were all about to sit down to _dejeuner a la fourchette_," said the
+ever hospitable old man, "and if the young gentlemen would come with us,
+we should be much honoured."
+
+The grenadier was equally pleased to have them and, indeed, Jim
+Castleman was so hungry by that time that he would have eaten cold
+spinach with his fingers.
+
+How that old couple plied the young Americans with their delightful
+food and how they listened to their tale of shipwreck and rescue! When
+Kent told of their fooling the Prussians with Tutno, the childish
+language they had known in their youth, the Tricots laughed with such
+glee that a gendarme put his head in the door to see what it was all
+about. When Jim Castleman in a speech that sounded more like Tutno than
+Parisian French, informed his hosts that he was there to join the army
+of Joffre, old Mere Tricot helped him to two more tarts, although he had
+already eaten enough of them to furnish dessert for any ordinary French
+family of four.
+
+"And now, Madame," said Kent to his hostess, "I want you to do another
+thing for me. You have done so many things already that maybe I should
+not ask you."
+
+"What is it, mon brave?" and the old woman smiled very kindly on the
+young American, whom she had not half an hour before called a Prussian
+and accused of stealing Judy's serge suit.
+
+"I am to be married very soon and I want you to help me out in it."
+
+"Married!" Judy gasped.
+
+"Yes, Miss Judy Kean, I am to be married and so are you. What's more, it
+is to be just as soon as the French law will tie the knot."
+
+"Well, of all----"
+
+"Yes, of all the slippery parties, I know you are the slipperiest and I
+have no idea of letting you get away. Am I right, Jim?"
+
+Jim was too busy with a tart to be coherent. He nodded his head,
+however, and when Kent put the same question to Mere Tricot in French,
+she upheld him.
+
+"It would be much more convenable if you were married. It is very easy
+to get married in war time. The authorities are not near so difficult to
+approach on the subject. I will see what can be done by the magistrate
+who married Jean and Marie, and no doubt if you interview your American
+Ambassador, much can be attended to in a short time."
+
+"Kent Brown, if you think----" sputtered Judy.
+
+"I don't think a thing, I just know," said Kent very calmly. "Put on
+your hat, honey, and let's take a little walk."
+
+"Well, all right--but----" Was this the Judy Kean who prided herself on
+so well knowing her own mind, calmly consenting to be married against
+her will? Was it against her will? She suddenly remembered the
+communings she had had with herself, in which she had cried out to Kent:
+"Why, why, did you not make me go with you?"
+
+"I shall have to rip the lining out of my hat before I can go out," she
+said quite meekly.
+
+"The lining out of your hat?" questioned Kent.
+
+"Yes, you see I went into mourning when--when----" and Judy, now that it
+was all over, still could not voice the terrible thing she thought had
+happened to Kent.
+
+"Please don't rip it out until I see you in it. Not many men live to see
+how their widows look mourning for them."
+
+"Widows, indeed! Kent Brown, you presume too much!" exclaimed Judy, but
+she could not help laughing. The hat was very becoming and she was not
+loathe to wear it, just once.
+
+First Mere Tricot must be assisted with the dishes, however; but then
+Judy got ready to go walking with Kent.
+
+Pere Tricot undertook to be guide to Jim Castleman, offering to lead him
+to the proper place to enlist.
+
+"I'll only look into it to-day," said Jim, grasping Kent's hand. "I
+shan't join for keeps until I have officiated as best man."
+
+Judy, who had gone into Marie's tiny bedroom to get into her rescued
+serge suit, overheard this remark and blushed to the roots of her fluffy
+hair. As she put on her white lined hat, she peeped again into the
+mirror: "Judy Kean, you are much too rosy for a widow," she admonished
+her image.
+
+Mere Tricot saw them off, her good man and Jim to the recruiting
+station, and Kent and Judy to the Luxembourg Gardens, a spot hallowed by
+lovers.
+
+"Well, well!" she said to herself. "The good God has brought the poor
+lamb her lover from the grave. I am glad, very glad,--but it is
+certainly a pity to waste all that good dye the butcher's wife saved for
+us. It is not good when kept too long, either. I won't throw it out yet
+a while, though,--some one will be wanting it, perhaps."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+A WAR BRIDE.
+
+
+Marrying in Paris was certainly a much easier matter than it had been
+almost two years before when Molly Brown and Edwin Green had struggled
+to have the nuptial knot tied. Judy's baptismal certificate was not
+demanded as had been Molly's, and the long waiting for research work, as
+Kent expressed it, was not required. Mere Tricot undertook to engineer
+the affair and did it with such expedition that it could have been
+accomplished even before Judy got her trunk from Giverny.
+
+It was very nice to have one's trunk again, although it really was
+embarrassing to take up so much of the Tricots' living room with the
+huge American affair.
+
+"It seems funny to be married without any trousseau," Judy confided to
+Mere Tricot.
+
+"No trousseau! And what is in that great box if not trousseau?"
+
+"I am sure I don't know. I really haven't any clothes to speak of that I
+can remember," declared Judy.
+
+"Well, let us see them!" begged Marie and her belle mere.
+
+They were dying of curiosity to peep into the great box, so Judy
+unpacked for their benefit, and their eyes opened wide at her stack of
+shirt waists and lingerie and her many shoes.
+
+"Two more suits and a great coat, silk dresses--at least three of
+them--and skirts and shirts of duck and linen!" exclaimed Marie. "And
+hats and gloves--and blouses enough for three! Not many war brides will
+boast such a trousseau."
+
+So our bride began to feel that in comparison to the little Marie, she
+had so much that she must not worry about wedding clothes. Instead, she
+divided her store of riches, and making up a bundle with a silk dress
+and some blouses and lingerie, a suit and a hat, she hid it in Mere
+Tricot's linen press for Marie to find when she, Judy, was married and
+gone over the seas.
+
+She well knew that the French girl would not accept the present unless
+it were given to her in a very tactful way, and just to find it in the
+linen press with her name on it and the donor out of reach seemed to
+Judy the most diplomatic method.
+
+Madame le Marquise d'Ochte must be looked up again. Not only were Kent
+and Judy very fond of her, but they knew they could not show their faces
+to Mrs. Brown unless they had seen her dear Sally Bolling. This time
+they found her in the old home in the Faubourg. She had been to the
+front and come back to get her house in readiness for the wounded.
+
+Could this be the gay and volatile Marquise, this sad looking,
+middle-aged woman? She had grown almost thin during those few months of
+the war. Her beautiful Titian hair was now streaked with grey. Judy
+remembered with a choking feeling the first time she had come to the
+Ochte home on that night soon after Molly and her mother had arrived
+in Paris, when they had dined in the Faubourg and then gone to hear
+_Louise_ at the Opera. The Marquise had been radiant in black velvet and
+diamonds, a beautiful, gay woman that one could hardly believe to be the
+mother of Philippe. She had looked so young, so sparkling. She had said
+at one time that she allowed no grey hairs to stay in her head, but had
+her maid pull them out no matter how it hurt. Now it would take all a
+maid's time to keep down the grey hairs in that head, and would leave
+but a scant supply for a coiffure could they be extracted.
+
+Kent thought she looked more like his mother and loved her for it. Her
+greeting was very warm and her interest great in what Judy and Kent had
+been doing and what they meant to do. She received them in the great
+salon that had been converted into a hospital ward. All of the Louis
+Quinze furniture had been stored away in an upper chamber and now in its
+place were long rows of cots. The floor was bare of the handsome rugs
+which had been the delight and envy of Judy on former visits, and now
+the parquetted boards were frotted to a point of cleanliness that no
+germ would have dared to violate.
+
+"I left the pictures for the poor fellows to look at--that is, those
+who are spared their eyesight," she said sadly. "My hospital opens
+to-morrow, but I want the privilege of giving a wedding breakfast to you
+young people. I can well manage it in the small _salle a manger_. That
+is left as it was."
+
+"Oh, you are so kind, but dear old Mere Tricot is making a great cake
+for us and she would be sad indeed if she could not give the breakfast,"
+explained Judy.
+
+"That is as it should be," said the Marquise kindly, "but am I invited?"
+
+"Invited! Of course you are invited, and the Marquis and Philippe if
+they can be got hold of."
+
+"They are still in camp and have not gone to the fore, so I will manage
+to reach them. Jean is very busy, drilling all the time, but a family
+wedding must be attended. Philippe is learning to fly," and she closed
+her eyes a moment as though to shut out the remembrance of accidents
+that happen all the time to the daring aviators.
+
+Judy wondered if he had come in contact with Josephine Perkins, but said
+nothing as it was a deep secret that Jo was passing off as a man and a
+word might give her away.
+
+"There are many Americans in the aviation camp, and very clever and apt
+they are, Philippe says. I am proud of my countrymen for coming forward
+as they are."
+
+"Yes, I think it is great for them to. I--I--think I ought not to marry
+Kent and go off and leave so much work to be done. I ought to help.
+Don't you think so, Cousin Sally?" asked Judy.
+
+The Marquise smiled at Judy's calling her cousin, smiled and liked it.
+Kent looked uneasy and a little sullen. Suppose his Judy should balk at
+the last minute and refuse to leave the stirring scenes of war! What
+then? He had sworn not to return to United States without her, and
+unless he did return in a very short time, the very good job he had
+picked up in New York would be filled by some more fortunate and less
+in love young architect.
+
+"Why, my dear, it is not the duty of all American girls to stay on this
+side and nurse any more than it is the duty of all American men to stay
+here and fight. Only those must do it who are called, as it were, by the
+spirit. You must marry my young cousin and go back to United States, and
+there your duty will begin, not only to make him the brave, fine wife
+that I know it is in you to make, but also to remember suffering France
+and Belgium. There is much work waiting for you. This war will last for
+years, thanks to that same Belgium who threw herself in the breach and
+stopped the tide of Prussians flowing into France. If it had not been
+for Belgium, the war would have been over now--yes, over--but France
+would have been under the heel of the tyrant and Belgium off of the map.
+Thank God for that brave little country!" and Judy and Kent bowed their
+heads as at a benediction.
+
+Kent kissed the Marquise for her sensible advice. He very well knew that
+Judy would have been a great acquisition to his cousin's hospital, and
+that workers were not numerous (not so plentiful at the beginning of the
+war as they were later). Her advice was certainly unselfish. He thanked
+her, also, for realizing that it was not up to all American men to stay
+and fight. He had no desire to fight any one unless his own country was
+at war, and then he felt he would do his duty as his ancestors had done
+before him.
+
+"I tell you what we'll do, you children and I: I'll order out the car--I
+still keep one and a chauffeur so that with it I can bring the wounded
+back to Paris--and we will go out to the aviation camp and see Philippe
+and ask him to the wedding. You would like to see the camp, eh?"
+
+"Above all things!" exclaimed Kent and Judy in chorus.
+
+The broad grassy field, bordered by houses, sheds and workshops,
+presented a busy scene as the Ochte car drove up. Biplanes were parked
+to one side like so many automobiles at a reception in a city, or
+buggies at a county seat on court day in an American town. The field was
+swarming with men, all eagerly watching a tiny speck off in the blue sky
+in the direction of the trenches where the French had called a halt on
+the Germans' insolent and triumphant march to Paris.
+
+No more attempt was made to stop the car of Madame the Marquise from
+coming into the aviation camp than there would have been had she been
+Joffre himself.
+
+"They know me very well," she said in answer to Kent's inquiry as to
+this phenomenon, as he well knew they were very strict about visitors in
+camp. "I am ever a welcome guest here, not only because they know I love
+them, but because of something I bring." She pointed to a great hamper
+of goodies packed in by the chauffeur.
+
+The car was surrounded by eager and courteous young aviators and
+soldiers, and Kent and Judy well knew it was not all for the _gateaux_
+that the Marquise was so beloved. Philippe was summoned and clasped in
+his mother's arms. Her heart cried out that every time might be the
+last.
+
+The Marquise was changed but her son even more so. His dilettantish
+manner was gone for good, as was also his foppish beard. His face, clean
+shaven except for a small moustache, was brown and lean; his mouth had
+taken on purpose; his eyes were no longer merely beautiful but now had
+depth of expression and a look of pity, as though he had seen much
+sorrow.
+
+He was greatly pleased to see his cousin Kent and also Miss Kean, who,
+of course, he thought had gone back to America long ago. He remembered
+Judy always as the young lady he came so near loving. Indeed, he would
+have addressed her when Molly Brown had refused him, had he not been
+made to understand by his fair cousin how important it was to love with
+one's whole soul if married happiness was to be expected. He had, after
+that, gone very slowly in possible courtships. Molly's friend, Frances
+Andrews, had almost been his choice, but there was something of
+fineness lacking in her that deterred him in time, and he was in a
+measure relieved when that dashing young woman proceeded to marry an
+impoverished Italian prince. His mother was relieved beyond measure at
+what she could not but look on as her Philippe's escape. In fact, she
+had never seen but one girl she thought would be just right for her
+beloved son and that was Molly Brown.
+
+Philippe was told of Kent's being shipwrecked and of Judy's having taken
+up her abode with the Tricots. This last bit of information amused him
+greatly. Judy told with much sprightliness of her serving in the shop
+and of her learning to make tarts. Philippe began to look upon his
+cousin Kent as a very lucky dog. He sighed when he promised to come to
+the wedding breakfast, that is, if he could get leave. Why did all of
+the charming American girls pass him by?
+
+"_J'ai la France et ma mere_," he muttered, as his arm crept around the
+waist of that beloved mother.
+
+"What are they all looking at so intently?" asked Judy.
+
+"Why, that is a daring young American aviator who has gone to seek some
+information concerning the trenches of our friends the enemy. He is a
+strange, quiet little fellow. No one ever gets a word out of him but he
+has learned to manage his machine quicker than any of the nouveaux, and
+now is intrusted to carry out all kinds of dangerous orders. He looks
+like a boy sometimes and sometimes when he is tired, like a strange
+little old man. He is not very friendly but is quick at repartee and so
+the fellows let him alone. Speaks French like a Parisian. I have seen
+him before somewhere, but can't place him. I asked him once and he was
+quite stiff and said I had the advantage of him. Of course I didn't like
+to force myself on him after that, but I'd really like to be friendly if
+he would let me. See, here he comes! Look!"
+
+They watched in silence the aeroplane sinking in a lovely spiral glide.
+As it sank to rest on the greensward, many hands were outstretched to
+assist the grotesque little figure to alight. Judy recognized in an
+instant the person she had thought all the time Philippe was describing.
+It was, of course, Jo Bill Perkins. She was swathed in a dark leather
+coat and breeches, with a strange shaped cap coming down over her ears.
+The great goggles she wore could not deceive Judy.
+
+"What is his name?" she asked Philippe.
+
+"Williams is all I know, J. Williams."
+
+"I believe I know him. Would you mind taking him my card and asking him
+to come speak to me?"
+
+"Not a bit, but I don't believe he will come. Let him make his report
+first, and then I will tell him you are here. You are very charming and
+fetching, Mademoiselle, but I doubt your being able to bring Williams to
+your feet."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+THE FLIGHT.
+
+
+Judy felt that perhaps she was not quite fair to Jo to test her by this
+interview, but she did long to speak to her. If Kent and Cousin Sally
+recognized her, she knew full well she could trust them to keep silent.
+
+Philippe crossed the field and stopped the daring little aviator just
+after he had made his report to the commander.
+
+"A young lady is asking for you."
+
+"A young lady for me? Absurd!"
+
+"Yes, she has heard of your wonderful feats and longs to meet you,"
+teased Philippe; and then added: "Really, Williams, you are superb."
+
+"Not at all! Well, I am tired and don't want to meet any young ladies."
+
+"But this one already knows you," and Philippe produced Judy's card.
+
+"Miss Julia Kean," Jo read in amazement. "How did she get out here,
+anyhow? Where is she?"
+
+"Over here with my mother," and Philippe looked with some amusement at
+the evident blush that spread over Jo's freckled cheeks. She still had
+on the grotesque cap and goggles which would have made recognition of
+her difficult. She wanted very much to see Judy. She wanted to hear
+something of her Polly, too, and she intended to have Judy look him up
+if possible, and report to her.
+
+"Will you see her?"
+
+"Sure!"
+
+"Miss Kean is a charming girl, Williams, isn't she?" said the quizzing
+Philippe, looking searchingly at his companion as they made their way
+across the field.
+
+"You bet!" said Jo.
+
+"Have you known her long?"
+
+"Quite a while," and Jo's cheeks again were suffused with a dark flush.
+
+"Poor little fellow!" thought Philippe. "I can't bear to tell him she
+is to be married. He is such a dare devil the chances are he will be
+killed before long and he may never have to know that his inamorata has
+chosen a better looking man, not a better man--they don't make them to
+beat little Williams."
+
+As they approached the car, impulsive Judy jumped out and ran to meet
+her friend. Jo ran, too, and they embraced with such ardor that Philippe
+stood back amazed. Maybe Kent Brown was not to be so envied, after all.
+If the girl who was to marry him in a day was so lavish with her
+embraces for other men, what kind of wife would she make? Of course,
+Williams was a rather dried up person, but then a man's a man for a'
+that.
+
+Kent, too, was rather astonished when his fiancee left him with such
+precipitation and before all the aviation camp hugged and kissed the
+strange bunchy little figure. Ardor for the heroes of France was all
+well enough, but a fellow's sweetheart need not be quite so warm in her
+manner of showing her appreciation, especially when the fellow happens
+not to be one himself in the habit of making daily daring flights to spy
+out the weakness in the trenches of the enemy.
+
+The Marquise laughed as she had not done since the first week in August
+of that terrible year. Kent looked at her in astonishment. She was not
+so very much like his mother, after all. His mother would not have been
+so much amused over the discomfiture of a young lover.
+
+That matron was saying to herself: "How stupid men are!" She had
+recognized Jo from the beginning. Kent had known in some far off corner
+of his brain that Mrs. Polly Perkins was doing something or other about
+the war, but his mind had been so taken up with his own affairs and
+Judy's possible danger that that knowledge had stayed in the corner of
+his brain while the more important matter of getting married was
+uppermost. Suddenly the truth flashed over him and he was overcome with
+laughter, too.
+
+"Caught on, eh?" asked his cousin.
+
+He nodded.
+
+"We must keep mum," she admonished. "There is no reason why a woman
+should not do her part this way if she can. I'd fly in a minute if that
+would help any. Of course these stupid men would raise a hue and cry if
+they knew a woman was carrying off the honours."
+
+"I am as quiet as the grave," declared Kent.
+
+Judy came to the car with her friend and with the utmost audacity
+introduced Jo as Mr. Williams. The Marquise greeted the supposed young
+man graciously. Kent sprang out and shook Jo warmly by the hand, much
+to the astonishment of his cousin Philippe.
+
+"Can't I see you a moment alone?" whispered Jo in Judy's ear. The
+Marquise, as though she divined what was in the heart of Mrs. Polly
+Perkins, asked her to come sit in the car; and then she suggested that
+Philippe show the camp to Kent and on second thought decided to go with
+them. The chauffeur had been sent with the hamper to the mess hall, so
+Judy and Jo had a few minutes alone.
+
+"I must find out something about Polly. I feel as though I could wait
+no longer for news of him. Can't you help me?"
+
+"Well, you know I am to be married to-morrow and sail for United States,
+but I am going to see that news is got to you somehow. Cousin Sally will
+do it, of course. She is the very person."
+
+"Oh, but that Philippe must not know. He has already been very curious
+about where he has seen me before, and I have had to be insufferably
+rude to him to keep him from prying into my past. I have made good as
+a man, but still they would not like it, I know."
+
+"How on earth did you ever get in? I am dying to hear all about it."
+
+"Well, naturally the examination for physical fitness was worrying me
+some. I got that little dried up art student named Joel Williams, the
+one who was always trying to claim kin with me, to take the examination
+and then let me slip in in his place. I bought his ticket to America to
+pay him for his trouble. He was broke, as usual, and scared to death
+when the war started, and willing to do anything to get home. It was
+really very simple to manage it. I am the same type, in a way, although
+I hope I am not so dried up as my would-be cousin. Same initials, too,
+which made the entering rather more regular."
+
+"Oh, Jo, what a girl you are!"
+
+"Shh! Don't call me a girl even to yourself. Do you think the Marquise
+d'Ochte recognized me?"
+
+"Of course she did and Kent, too! Do you think they would have left us
+alone if they had not thought you were safe? Kent wouldn't have left me
+with such a bird if he had not known who the bird was. He would be
+afraid I might fly away with you. Oh, Jo, I do so want to fly!"
+
+"Well, why not?"
+
+"Oh, could I really?"
+
+"I think so. I have brought in information to our commander that is
+valuable enough for me to ask one small favor of him. Come on, let's
+ask!"
+
+The two girls were across the field and knocking for admittance at the
+Commander's tent before the Marquise and the two young men had begun
+their tour of inspection.
+
+"A favor to ask!" exclaimed the grizzled old warrior who sat poring over
+a map where Jo had only a few moments before added some crosses that
+meant much to the tactics of the French army.
+
+"I want to take a friend up in a machine."
+
+"A friend! I am sorry, my son, but it is hard to tell friends in this
+day of war. I can't let you. He might be no friend, after all, to
+France."
+
+"He! It is not a man but an American girl. She is just outside your
+tent," and Jo raised the flap and motioned Judy to enter. Judy was
+introduced. The old warrior looked at her searchingly.
+
+"Tell me, are you related to Robert Kean?"
+
+"His daughter, sir."
+
+"Robert Kean's daughter! Why, my child, your father and I have been
+close friends for years. Tell me where he is and what he is doing."
+
+So Judy told of her father's letter and his being held in Berlin
+because of the knowledge he had of Turkey's topography. She made him
+laugh long and loud when she told of the ridiculous limericks he had
+written on the paper boats.
+
+"And you, Robert Kean's daughter, want to fly, and to fly with our
+bravest and most daring aviator! Well, don't fly off to America with
+him,--and God bless you, my children," and he gave Judy a fatherly
+embrace and went back to his map.
+
+When Kent got back to the car with his cousin, there was no Judy.
+
+"Where can she have gone and where is Williams?"
+
+Philippe looked rather mysterious. Young girls who rushed up and
+embraced bird men with such ardor should not be allowed too much rope.
+
+"No doubt she will be back soon. Williams is perhaps showing her the
+camp. Look, there goes another machine up! Two in it! By Jove, it is
+Williams! I can tell by his way of starting. He has such a smooth
+getaway always. Could the passenger be Miss Kean?"
+
+"More than likely," said Kent composedly. "She has always been crazy to
+fly. I reckon Williams will take good care of her and not go too high or
+try any stunts."
+
+"Oh, certainly not!" said Philippe wonderingly. Americans were a riddle
+to him. He never quite understood his own mother, who had rather a
+casual idea of proprieties herself at times. That good lady, coming up
+just then, expressed no concern over the impropriety of Judy's flying
+with a man when she was to be married on the morrow to some one else.
+
+Kent sat in the car with his cousin Sally and together they enjoyed
+Judy's flight. Jo took her as close to the fighting line as she dared,
+but she had no idea of endangering the life of her passenger. They
+dipped and curved, for the most part confining their maneuvers to the
+vicinity of the camp. Judy never spoke one word, but held her breath and
+wept for sheer joy.
+
+"To be flying! To be flying! Oh, Judy Kean, you lucky dog!" she said to
+herself. "All my life I've been dreaming I could fly and now I am doing
+it."
+
+"Dizzy?" asked Jo.
+
+"No, but happy enough to die," gasped Judy. "If I wasn't going to be
+married, I'd be a bird man."
+
+When the landing was finally made and Judy stepped out, the world seemed
+very stale, flat and unprofitable. She was glad Kent was there waiting
+for her. If she could not be a bird man, she could at least be a very
+happy war bride. The great leather coat she had worn in her flight was
+very ugly and unbecoming, and she was thankful for one thing that she
+did not have to wear such frightful looking clothes all the time.
+
+On the way back to Paris she asked cousin Sally how she had recognized
+Jo Williams so readily.
+
+"By her feet, of course! Why, no man on earth ever had such eternally
+feminine feet." That good lady promised to find out immediately
+something about Polly and let his spunky wife know where and how he was.
+"She will have the Cross of Honour before she gets through, Philippe
+says."
+
+"You don't feel as though it were your duty to tell she is a woman, do
+you?" asked Judy.
+
+"Duty to tell! Heavens, child! I feel it is my duty to help France in
+every way I can, and surely to get that girl out of the aviation corps
+would be a hindrance to _la Patrie_. I doubt even Philippe's thinking it
+his duty to tell, and," with a twinkle in her eye that the horrors of
+war could not altogether dim, "Philippe has a very stern idea of his
+duty. He felt maybe it was his duty to get in a flying machine and go
+after you and Mr. Williams so he could chaperone you. He felt that the
+dignity of the family was at stake,--so soon to be the bride of his
+cousin and flying with another man! Terrible!"
+
+"Why, of course! I never thought of how it looked. There I went and
+hugged and kissed Jo right before everybody. I bet you a sou this
+minute Philippe and all the rest of them are feeling sorry for you,
+Kent."
+
+"Well, they needn't be," declared that young man as he found Judy's hand
+under the robe. "I'm satisfied--but I did feel a little funny for half a
+minute when you went and kissed Jo so warmly. It took me a moment longer
+to recognize her. Why didn't you put me on?"
+
+"Put you on? How could I, with all the people around?"
+
+"You promised me once you wouldn't fly with anybody until you could fly
+with me. Don't you remember?"
+
+"Of course I did, you goose! But I didn't say anybody--I said any man;
+so you see I didn't break my promise when I flew with Mrs. Polly
+Perkins!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+THE WEDDING BREAKFAST.
+
+
+When the Marquise d'Ochte said she would do something, she always did it
+and did it as well as it could be done. When she undertook to find out
+where and how Polly Perkins was for the benefit of his spunky wife, she
+did it and did it immediately. And not only did she find him, but she
+got a little respite from duty for him and bore him back to Paris where
+she had already spirited Jo to be present at the wedding breakfast. She
+had asked a holiday for Jo, too, although the grizzled commander was
+loathe to let his best aviator off even for a day.
+
+Jo was taken to the converted d'Ochte mansion and there dressed like a
+nice, feminine little woman, her hair curled by madame's maid. A tight
+velvet toque and a dotted veil completed the transformation and the
+commander himself would not have recognized his one time prize aviator.
+All of this masquerade was for the sole purpose of fooling Philippe,
+who, also, was to be one of the guests at the Tricots'.
+
+Polly was so happy to see his Jo again that it was pathetic to behold,
+and her pride in him and his bravery was beautiful. Polly was vastly
+improved. Kent, who had always liked the little man and had insisted
+that there was much more to him than the other members of the colony
+could see, was delighted to have his opinion of his friend verified.
+
+The ceremony was a very simple one, performed, not by the magistrate as
+Mere Tricot had suggested, but at the Protestant Episcopal Church. Polly
+Perkins gave away the bride, and Jo looked as though she would burst
+with pride at this honour done her husband. Jim Castleman was best man,
+and Cousin Sally fell in love with him on the spot.
+
+"He is like the young men of my youth," she declared, "the young men of
+Kentucky, I am not saying how many years ago."
+
+The little living room at the Tricots' soon after the ceremony was full
+to overflowing, but every one squeezed in somehow. The old couple were
+very happy in dispensing hospitality. Their Jean came home for a few
+hours and their hearts were thankful for this glimpse of their son.
+Marie beamed with joy and the rosy baby delighted them all by saying,
+"Pa-pa!" the first word it had ever uttered.
+
+Philippe, looking so handsome that Judy, too, wondered that all the
+American girls passed him by, fraternized with Jean, the peasant's son,
+with that simplicity which characterizes the military of France.
+
+The party was very gay, so gay that it seemed impossible that the
+Germans were really not more than thirty miles from them. Of course they
+talked politics, men and women. Old Mere Tricot had her opinions and
+expressed them, and they listened with respect when she pooh-poohed and
+bah-bahed the notion that the Nations had gone to war from altruistic
+motives.
+
+"Belgium might as well die fighting as die not fighting. The Germans
+had her any way she jumped. France had to fight, too, fight or be
+enslaved. As for Great Britain--she couldn't well stay out of it! When
+the Germans got Antwerp, why, where was England? Let us fight, I
+say--fight to a finish; but let's be honest about it and each country
+say she is fighting for herself."
+
+"Do you think United States should come over and help?" asked Kent, much
+interested in the old woman's wisdom.
+
+"Not unless she has wrongs of her own to right!" spoke the grenadier.
+
+"But think how France helped us out in '76!" exclaimed Judy.
+
+"Yes, and helped herself, no doubt. I am not very educated in history,
+but I'll be bound she had a crow of her own to pick with England."
+
+"To be sure," laughed Philippe, "France did want to destroy the naval
+supremacy of Great Britain. Her alliance with Spain meant more to France
+than her alliance with America. She was not wholly disinterested when
+she helped the struggling states."
+
+"Oh, Heavens, Philippe, please don't take from me the romantic passion I
+have always had for Lafayette!" begged his mother. "I used to thrill
+with joy when tales were told of my great grandmother's dancing with
+him."
+
+"Keep your passion for Lafayette. He was at least brave and
+disinterested, but don't waste much feeling on the government that
+backed him. Vergennes, the minister of France at that time, prepared a
+map in which the United States figured as the same old colonial strip
+between the Alleghenies and the sea. They had no idea of helping United
+States to become a great nation."
+
+"Yes, I remember reading a letter from Jay in which he said: 'This court
+is interested in separating us from Great Britain, but it is not their
+interest that we should become a great and formidable people.' But I
+feel deeply grateful to France for all she did," said Kent.
+
+"Me, too!" cried Jim Castleman. "And I mean to do all I can to pay it
+back."
+
+"Ah! My American Lafayette!" cried the Marquise. "A toast, a toast, to
+my American Lafayette!" And they stood up and drank a toast to the
+blushing young giant.
+
+"I didn't dream any one could have such a good time at her own wedding,"
+said Judy when the last vestige of cake had disappeared. It was a
+wonderful cake with a tiny white sugar bride and a chocolate groom
+perched on top. There had been much holding of hands under the table.
+Every other person seemed to be eating with his or her left hand, and
+Cousin Sally complained that she had no hand to eat with at all, as
+Philippe held one of her hands and the American Lafayette held the
+other.
+
+The Marquis could not come, much to the regret of all the company, for
+his regiment expected to be called to the front any day and no leaves
+could be granted.
+
+Judy put up a brave front when adieux were in order, but her heart was
+very sad. How many terrible things might happen to these kind friends
+she was leaving! The Tricots, good souls, might be bereft at any
+moment. Dear Cousin Sally, with two in the war, might be doubly visited
+by the hand of death. Polly and Jo Perkins were to part after this brief
+time of happiness, holding hands under the Tricots' hospitable board,
+one to return to his office of caring for the wounded, the other to her
+office of keeping the German ambulance drivers busy. The young Kentucky
+giant, Jim Castleman, was to join his regiment on the following day. His
+glee at having a chance to swat the Prussians was intense. He didn't
+look like a person who could ever die, but one bit of shrapnel might in
+the twinkling of an eye destroy that virile youth.
+
+"Come to see me when you can, my American Lafayette," begged the
+Marquise, "and if you get so much as a tiny little wound, let me nurse
+you if you can get to me."
+
+Jim had delighted the little party by translating into his execrable
+French football terms to describe his idea of how the war should be
+conducted. His left tackle was frankly: "_gauche palan_," and his centre
+rush was: "_cintre jonc_."
+
+He and Kent were not very demonstrative in their parting, but both of
+them felt it deeply.
+
+"Wuv e lul lul! Sus o lul o nun gug!" called Jim, as the cab bearing the
+bride and groom started.
+
+"Gug o o dud lul u sank kuk!" was Kent's feeling rejoinder.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER.
+
+
+No submarine warfare interrupted the peaceful passage of our
+honeymooners. The voyage was delightful to both of them after all the
+trials they had been through. Judy was as much at home on the water as
+on land, literally a born sailor, as she had been born at sea. Kent
+loved a ship and all the many aspects of the ocean. The lazy days on
+deck, with their chairs drawn as close together as chairs could be,
+their hands clasped under the steamer rug, seemed like a beautiful
+dream, only a dream that was going to last for a lifetime, not the lazy
+days on deck but the being together and never talking out. Being lazy
+was not the idea of eternal bliss common to either of these young
+persons. Kent felt there were worlds to conquer in the architectural
+universe and he meant to do his share towards conquering them; and with
+Judy by his side, he gloried in the task before him. As for Judy, she
+meant to paint like mad and to work up many ideas she had teeming in her
+head. She was thankful for the reels of undeveloped snapshots she had in
+her trunk, as she was going to use them as a jog to her memory for the
+numerous illustrations she meant to make in an article she was thinking
+of writing on Paris at the outbreak of the war.
+
+Cousin Sally's admonition to work for the Allies was not forgotten,
+either. Judy was planning a busy winter for herself in New York just as
+soon as she and Kent could get themselves settled in an apartment.
+
+"It must be very inexpensive, too, Kent. We must save money."
+
+Kent couldn't help laughing at Judy's solemn face. What would Judy's
+friends say at her becoming penurious? Judy, the spendthrift!
+
+"You see, I've always cost poor Bobby a lot of money; not that he has
+ever complained, but I don't mean to be a burden to you, Kent."
+
+Kent had no answer for such foolishness but to squeeze her hand.
+
+"I'd be perfectly happy if I just knew that Bobby and poor little Mumsy
+were all right."
+
+"Why, they may be on the high seas this minute. We will surely hear
+something of them when we get to New York."
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sandy Hook was at last sighted and then came the slow, majestic steaming
+into the harbour! Liberty still held her torch on high with the gulls
+circling around her. The same little tugs were puffing up and down, with
+the great ferries plying back and forth like huge shuttles. New York's
+sky line was as fascinating to Mrs. Kent Brown as it had ever been to
+Judy Kean.
+
+"Oh, Kent, I love it so! How could I have stayed away so long?" cried
+Judy, rapturously making sketches in the air.
+
+The pier was filled with an eager crowd, awaiting the arrival of the
+steamer.
+
+"There won't be any one for us," said Judy rather wistfully. "Your
+mother is in Kentucky, and of course Molly couldn't leave the baby to
+come meet us, and there isn't any one else."
+
+Kent smiled and said nothing. He was almost sure he saw the figure of
+his tall brother-in-law, Professor Green, towering above the crowd, but
+he was afraid he might be mistaken and could not bear to disappoint
+Judy.
+
+It was Edwin Green and hanging on one arm was Molly (Kent knew her by
+the blue scarf). And who was that on the other arm? Oh, what a mother!
+It was Mrs. Brown, her face uplifted and glowing.
+
+"Judy, look a little to the left of the second post! Right in front of
+us, honey! What do you see?"
+
+"Oh, it's Molly! I can tell her by her blue scarf--and Kent! Kent,
+there's your mother and dear Edwin!" Then Judy clutched her young
+husband's arm. "Look a little to the right, standing by your
+mother--there's a big man that looks like Bobby--See, with a little
+doll baby woman in front of him--he's keeping the crowd off of
+her--see! see! It is--it is Bobby and little Mumsy!"
+
+Judy, who not much more than two weeks before had considered herself the
+most unfortunate and friendless of mortals, now knew that there was not
+such a happy person in all the world. How long the vessel took to be
+made fast to the pier! And then such a crowding and pushing! Every one
+on board seemed to have some one on the pier he had not seen for
+centuries and must get to immediately.
+
+"They can't be as anxious to hug their mothers as I am, and I know they
+haven't any Bobbies," she complained. "And I am sure they have not been
+shipwrecked like you and given up for drowned by their families. They
+ought to let us off first."
+
+Mr. Kean was behaving exactly as though he were at a football game. He
+was jumping up and down and waving and shouting, and his rooting egged
+Kent to make a rush for the gangway, holding Judy like a pigskin; and
+once on the gangplank there was nothing to do but push and be pushed by
+the crowd until they shot out on the pier into the arms of their waiting
+and eager families.
+
+With every one talking at once, it was difficult to get any accurate
+knowledge about one another, but when it was all sifted out it developed
+that Mr. and Mrs. Kean had finally been allowed by the Imperial
+Government to leave Berlin, in fact, they had been encouraged to go. Mr.
+Kean was looked upon as a dangerous person, a lunatic at large, and they
+did not want the responsibility or expense of caring for him. His jokes
+got to be too many and serious, and when he became such an adept in
+evading the spy set to watch him that two had to be detailed for that
+duty, the powers that be evidently decided that what knowledge he
+possessed of the topography of Turkey did not outweigh in importance the
+wearing out of perfectly good soldier material. He worried the spy so
+that he was nothing more than skin and bones, poor fellow!
+
+They had arrived in New York only the day before and had immediately got
+Molly on the long distance telephone. Of course, they knew nothing of
+Judy's being married, but unhesitatingly approved of the step Kent had
+taken and did not consider him at all high-handed. Mr. Kean, being of a
+most impulsive disposition, could understand it in other persons, and
+little Mrs. Kean was so used to her comet-like husband and daughter that
+she was never astonished by anything they did.
+
+"I was not the impulsive one this time, though, Bobby," Judy declared
+when they finally settled themselves around the luncheon table at the
+hotel where a second bridal feast had been prepared, ordered by the
+lavish Bobby. "It was Kent. I had no idea of ever being married--in
+fact, it seemed to me to be not quite decent to be married so quickly
+when I was in such deep mourning--The wedding was quiet because of the
+recent bereavement----"
+
+"In mourning! You, Judy, in mourning for whom?" and poor little Mrs.
+Kean gasped, not knowing what she was to learn now.
+
+"Why, for Kent himself. Nothing but the bombs dropped in Paris kept me
+from having my best serge suit dyed black. Molly, I always said I'd make
+a fetching widow, and I did all right. Kent thought I was just lovely in
+the hat I fixed for his mourning."
+
+"Oh, Judy! The same old Judy!" exclaimed Molly fondly.
+
+Molly had thought it would be impossible for her to go to New York
+to meet the incoming steamer with its precious cargo, but Edwin had
+declared she should go; so little Mildred was taken on the jaunt as
+well, with the eager Katy as nurse. Kizzie was already installed as
+cook and Katy was proving a most careful and reliable nurse. Molly was
+looking and behaving more like herself and no longer had to let her
+patient husband go off to his lectures like a bachelor with no wife to
+pour his coffee.
+
+"And now, you and Kent and Mr. and Mrs. Kean must all come to Wellington
+to visit us," announced the hospitable Molly. "Mustn't they, Edwin?"
+
+"Indeed they must," said Edwin obediently, but in his heart wondering
+where Molly would put all of them. The old red house on the campus was
+large but had not very many rooms. The young professor could never quite
+get used to the Browns and their unbounded hospitality. His favorite
+story was one on his mother-in-law; how, when one of her sons brought
+home the whole football team to spend the night, she calmly took the top
+mattresses off all the beds (the beds at Chatsworth were fortunately
+equipped with box mattresses and top mattresses) and made up pallets on
+the floor, thereby doubling the sleeping capacity of her hospitable
+mansion.
+
+"I can't come, Molly,--mighty sorry," said Kent, "but my job must be
+held down now. They have kept it open for me long enough."
+
+"And I stay with Kent!" declared Judy.
+
+"Hurrah, hurrah! Her mother's own daughter!" cried the delighted Bobby.
+"I was wondering what kind of wife my girl would make; now I know. I
+wouldn't take anything for that: 'I stay with Kent.'"
+
+"Oh, I'm going to be terribly domestic. I found that out while I was
+living with the Tricots. What's more, I can make tarts--the best ever. I
+can hardly wait to get a flat and a pastry board to make some for Kent."
+
+"You might use your drawing board for a pastry board," teased her
+father. "I fancy art is through with."
+
+"Through with, indeed! Why, Bobby, I am astonished and ashamed of you! I
+am going to paint all the time that I am not making tarts, and what time
+is left, I am going to knit socks and make bandages for the wounded."
+
+"And poor me! When do I come in?" asked Kent.
+
+"You come in early and behave yourself or I'll spend the rest of the
+time making suffrage speeches," laughed the war bride.
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+And now since we must leave our friends some where, what better time and
+place than at this second wedding breakfast, while all of them are
+together and happy? Perhaps we shall meet them again when the old red
+house on the campus shall be taxed to its utmost in its endeavor to
+behave like Chatsworth. We shall see Judy and Kent in their little flat
+and mayhaps taste one of Judy's tarts. We must know more of Molly's
+girls at Wellington and meet dear Nance Oldham and little Otoyo Sen
+again. It is hard to part forever with our friends and those who know
+Molly Brown feel that all her friends are theirs.
+
+So I hope our readers will be glad to meet again "Molly Brown's College
+Friends."
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Marjorie Dean
+  College
+  Series
+
+BY PAULINE LESTER.
+
+Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series.
+
+
+Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High School Series will be eager
+to read this new series, as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in
+these stories.
+
+  All Clothbound.    Copyright Titles.
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.
+
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR
+  MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers.
+
+             A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 East 23rd Street,    New York
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Marjorie Dean
+  High School
+  Series
+
+BY PAULINE LESTER
+
+Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series
+
+
+These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to all
+girls of high school age.
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR
+  MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+            A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The
+  Girl Scouts
+  Series
+
+BY EDITH LAVELL
+
+
+A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide
+experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.
+
+Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.
+
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLEN'S SCHOOL
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' VACATION ADVENTURES
+  THE GIRL SCOUTS' MOTOR TRIP
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+            A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The Camp Fire
+  Girls Series
+
+By HILDEGARD G. FREY
+
+
+A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years.
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go
+          Camping.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, The Magic Garden.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads
+          the Way.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open
+          Door.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven
+          Cedars.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the
+          Winnebagos.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure
+          at Carver House.
+
+  THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles.
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+            A. L. BURT COMPANY
+  114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  The Blue Grass
+  Seminary Girls Series
+
+BY CAROLYN JUDSON BURNETT
+
+
+For Girls 12 to 16 Years
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+Splendid stories of the Adventures of a Group of Charming Girls.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' VACATION ADVENTURES; or, Shirley
+          Willing to the Rescue.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS; or, A Four
+          Weeks' Tour with the Glee Club.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS; or, Shirley Willing
+          on a Mission of Peace.
+
+  THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or, Exciting Adventures
+          on a Summer's Cruise Through the Panama Canal.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The Mildred Series
+
+BY MARTHA FINLEY
+
+
+For Girls 12 to 16 Years.
+
+  All Cloth Bound    Copyright Titles
+
+PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH
+
+A Companion Series to the famous "Elsie" books by the same author.
+
+  MILDRED KEITH        MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE
+  MILDRED AT ROSELAND  MILDRED AT HOME
+  MILDRED AND ELSIE    MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS
+          MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER
+
+For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
+Publishers
+
+A. L. BURT COMPANY
+114-120 EAST 23rd STREET    NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+                  *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note:
+
+Minor printer's errors have been corrected. Otherwise the original
+has been preserved, including inconsistent spelling and hyphenation.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLLY BROWN OF KENTUCKY***
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