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+Project Gutenberg's Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline, by Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+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: Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline
+ A Story of the Development of a Young Girl's Life
+
+Author: Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+Release Date: August 7, 2011 [EBook #37003]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TESSA WADSWORTH'S DISCIPLINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Katherine Ward, Roger Frank and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Nan drew Tessa’s cheek down to her lips. (_Page 329_)]
+
+
+
+
+ Tessa Wadsworth’s
+ Discipline
+
+ A Story of the Development of a Young Girl’s Life
+
+ By Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+ Author of “Growing Up,” “Bek’s First Corner,”
+ “Miss Prudence,” etc., etc.
+
+ “The people that stood below
+ She knew but little about;
+ And this story’s a moral, I know,
+ If you’ll try to find it out.”
+
+ A. L. Burt Company, Publishers
+ New York
+
+
+
+
+ Copyright 1879,
+ By Robert Carter & Brothers.
+
+
+
+
+ Dedication.
+
+ TO
+ MY FRIEND
+ Mary V. Childs.
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS
+
+ CHAPTER PAGE
+ 1. Hearts that Seemed to Differ 9
+ 2. The Silent Side 20
+ 3. The Last Night of the Old Year 31
+ 4. Somebody New 55
+ 5. Hearts that were Waiting 65
+ 6. Another Opportunity 81
+ 7. The Long Day 90
+ 8. A Note out of Tune 101
+ 9. The New Morning 140
+ 10. Forgetting the Bread 156
+ 11. On the Highway 162
+ 12. Good Enough to be True 178
+ 13. The Heart of Love 188
+ 14. Wheat, not Bread 211
+ 15. September 217
+ 16. A Tangle 244
+ 17. The Night Before 258
+ 18. Moods 280
+ 19. The Old Story 293
+ 20. Several Things 305
+ 21. Through 330
+ 22. Several Other Things 338
+ 23. What She Meant 362
+ 24. Shut in 367
+ 25. Blue Myrtle 377
+ 26. Another May 390
+ 27. Sunset 397
+ 28. Hearts Alike 405
+
+
+
+
+TESSA WADSWORTH’S DISCIPLINE.
+
+
+
+
+I.—HEARTS THAT SEEMED TO DIFFER.
+
+
+She was standing one afternoon on the broad piazza, leaning against the
+railing, with color enough in her usually colorless cheeks as she
+watched the tall figure passing through the low gateway; he turned
+towards the watching eyes, smiled, and touched his hat.
+
+“You will be in again this week,” she said coaxingly, “you can give me
+ten minutes out of your busy-ness.”
+
+“Twice ten, perhaps.”
+
+The light that flashed into her eyes was her only reply; she stood
+leaning forward, playing with the oleander blossoms under her hand until
+he had seated himself in his carriage and driven away; not until the
+brown head and straw hat had disappeared behind the clump of willows at
+the corner did she stir or move her eyes, then the happy feet in the
+bronze slippers tripped up-stairs to her own chamber. Dinah had left her
+slate on a chair, and dropped her algebra on the carpet, at the sound of
+Norah’s voice below the window.
+
+Tessa was glad to be alone; she was always glad to be alone after Ralph
+Towne had left her, to think over all that he had said, and to feel
+again the warm shining of his brown eyes; to thank God with a few, low,
+joyful exclamations that He had brought this friend into her life; and
+then, as foolish women will, she must look into her own face and try to
+see it as he saw it,—cheeks aglow, tremulous lips, and such a light in
+the blue eyes!
+
+She did not know that her eyes could look like that. She had thought
+them pale, cold, meaningless, and now they were like no eyes that she
+had ever looked into; a dancing, tender, blue delight.
+
+Had he read her secret in them?
+
+Her enthusiasm with its newness, sweetness, and freshness,—for it was as
+fresh as her heart was pure,—was moulding all her thoughts,
+strengthening her desire to become in all things true and womanly, and
+making her as blithe all day long as the birds that twittered in the
+apple-tree near her chamber window.
+
+It mattered not how her hands were busied so long as her heart could be
+full of him. And he, Ralph Towne, blind and obtuse as any man would be
+who lived among books and not in the world at all, and more than a
+trifle selfish, as men sometimes find themselves to be, little thinking
+of the effect of his chance visits and fitful attentions, had in the
+last two months come to a knowledge that grieved him; for he was an
+honorable man, he loved God and reverenced womankind. He had not time
+now to think of any thing but the book for which he was collecting
+material. It was something in the natural history line, he had once told
+her, but he never cared to speak of it; indeed Ralph Towne cared to talk
+but of few things; but she loved to talk and he loved to listen. He
+loved to listen to her, but he did not love her (so he assured himself),
+he only loved her presence, as he loved the sunshine, and he did not
+love the sunshine well enough to fret when the day was gloomy; in these
+days he did not love any body or any thing but himself, his books, and
+his mother.
+
+Dunellen said that he was proud of his money and proud of a
+great-great-grandmother who had been cousin to one of the president’s
+wives; but Tessa knew that he was not proud of any thing but his
+beautiful white-haired mother.
+
+Not understanding the signs of love, how could he know that Tessa
+Wadsworth was growing to love _him_; he had never thought of himself as
+particularly worth loving. Surely she knew a dozen men who were
+handsomer (if that were what she cared for), and another dozen who could
+talk and tell stories and say pretty things to women (if _that_ were
+what attracted her); still he knew to-day that his presence and light
+talk (he did not remember that he had said any thing to be treasured)
+had moved her beyond her wont. She was usually only self-contained and
+dignified; but to-day there must have been some adequate cause for her
+changing color, for the lighting and deepening of her eyes as they met
+his so frankly; he was sure to-day of what he had only surmised
+before,—that this sensitive, high-spirited, pure-hearted woman loved him
+as it had never entered his preoccupied mind or selfish heart to love
+her or indeed any human being.
+
+“I have been a fool!” he ejaculated. “Well, it is done, and, with a
+woman like her, it can not be undone! Miserable bungler that I am, I
+have been trying to make matters better, and I have made them a thousand
+times worse! Why did I promise to call again this week? Why did I give
+her a right to ask me? I wish that I had _never_ seen her! God
+knows,”—she would never have forgotten his eyes could she have seen them
+at this instant, penitent and self-reproachful,—“that I did not _mean_
+to trifle with her.”
+
+Meanwhile, resting in Dinah’s chair, with the algebra and slate at her
+feet, she was thinking over and over the words he had spoken that
+afternoon; very few they were, but simple and sincere; at least so they
+sounded to her. She smiled as “I _do_ care very much” repeated itself to
+her, with the tone and the raising of the eyes.
+
+“Very much!” as much as she did? It was about a trifle, some little
+thing that she had put into rhyme for him; how many rhymes she had
+written for him this summer! He so often said, “Write this up for me,”
+and she had so intensely enjoyed the doing it, and so intensely enjoyed
+his appreciation—his over-appreciation, she always thought.
+
+O, Tessa, Tessa, pick up that algebra, and go to work with it. Life’s
+problems are too complex for your unworldliness.
+
+She stooped to pick up Dinah’s slate, and, instead of finishing the work
+upon it, she wrote out rapidly a thought that had tinged her cheeks
+while Ralph Towne had been with her. _The silent side_ she called it.
+Was it the silent side? If it were, how was it that he understood? She
+_knew_ that he understood; she knew that he had understood when he
+answered, “Twice ten, perhaps.”
+
+Her mother’s voice below broke in upon her reverie; fancy, sentiment, or
+delicate feeling of any kind died a hard and sudden death under Mrs.
+Wadsworth’s influence, yet she read more novels than did either of her
+daughters, and would cry her lovely eyes red and swollen over a story
+that Tessa would not deign to skip through. It was one of her mother’s
+plaints that Tessa had no feeling.
+
+Ralph Towne did not give the promised “twice ten” minutes that week, nor
+for weeks afterward; she met him several times driving with his mother,
+or with his mother and Sue Greyson: her glad, quick look of recognition
+was acknowledged by a lifting of the hat and a “good afternoon, Miss
+Tessa.” Once she met him alone with Sue Greyson. Sue’s saucy,
+self-congratulatory toss of the head stung her so that she could have
+cried out. “I am ashamed”—no, I am not ashamed to tell you that she
+cried herself to sleep that night, as she asked God to bless Ralph Towne
+and make him happy and good. She could not have loved Ralph Towne if she
+might not have prayed for him. Her mother would have been inexpressibly
+shocked at such a mixture of “love and religion.”
+
+“How long have you loved Christ?” asked the minister, when Tessa was
+“examined” for admission to the church.
+
+“Ever since I have known Him,” was the timid reply.
+
+And Ralph Towne, in these miserable days, for he _was_ miserable, as
+miserable in his fashion as she was in hers, was blaming her and
+excusing himself. What _had_ he ever said to her? Was every one of a
+man’s words to be counted? There was Sue Greyson, why didn’t she turn
+sentimental about him? True, he had said one day when they were talking
+about friendship—what had he said that day? Was she remembering that? If
+she had studied his words—but of course, she had forgotten! What had
+possessed him to say such things? But how could he look at her and not
+feel impelled to say something warm? It could not be his fault; it must
+be hers, for leading him on and for remembering every trivial word. And
+of that she was equally sure, for how could he do any man or any woman
+wrong, this sincere and honorable Christian gentleman?
+
+In her imagination there was no one in a book or out of a book like
+Ralph Towne. Gus Hammerton was a scholar and a gentleman, but she had
+known him all her life; Felix Harrison was gracious and good, but he was
+not like Ralph Towne. Ralph Towne was not her ideal, he was something
+infinitely better than she could think; how beautiful it was to find
+some one nobler and grander than her ideal! Far away in some wonderful,
+unknown region he had grown up and had been made ready for her, and now
+he had come to meet her; bewildered and grateful, she had loved him and
+believed in him—almost as if that unknown region were heaven.
+
+It was her wildest dream come true; that is, it had come true, until
+lately. Some strange thing was happening; it was happening and almost
+breaking her heart.
+
+“Tessa, you look horrid nowadays,” exclaimed Dinah, one afternoon, as
+Tessa came up on the piazza, returning from her usual walk. “You are
+white, and purple, and all colors, and you never sing about the house or
+talk to me or to any body. You actually ran away while Mrs. Bird was
+over here yesterday, and you don’t even go to see Miss Jewett! She asked
+me yesterday if you had gone away. When Laura was talking to you
+yesterday, you looked as if you did not hear one word she said.”
+
+“I was listening.”
+
+“And you used to have such fun talking to Gus; I believe that you went
+up-stairs while he was here last night.”
+
+“I had a headache; I excused myself.”
+
+“You always go down the road. Why don’t you go through Dunellen?”
+
+“I want to get into the country; I never walk through a street simply
+for the pleasure of it. I like to be alone.”
+
+“Do you ever walk as far as Old Place?”
+
+“That isn’t far, only three miles; sometimes I go to Mayfield, that is a
+mile beyond Old Place.”
+
+“Isn’t Old Place splendid? Next to Mr. Gesner’s it is the handsomest
+place around.”
+
+“It is more home-like than Mr. Gesner’s.”
+
+“Sue likes Mr. Gesner’s better. I told her that I would take Old Place
+and she could have Mr. Gesner’s. Mr. Gesner’s is stone; Old Place is all
+wood. Do you ever see any of the Townes?”
+
+“There are not many to be seen.”
+
+“Counting Sue, there are three. Sue thinks that she is stylish, driving
+around with Mrs. Towne. She stayed a week with Miss Gesner once, too.
+Why don’t you and I get invited around to such places? Mrs. Towne ought
+to invite you. Mr. Towne used to come here often enough.”
+
+“Used to come!” Tessa shivered standing in the sunlight. “Yes, it was
+‘used to come,’” she was thinking. “I have been dreaming, now I am
+awake. I wish that I had died while I was dreaming.”
+
+“Now you look pale again! I guess you are growing up,” laughed
+unconscious Dinah; “it’s hateful and horrid to grow up; I never shall.
+Remember that I am always to be fifteen.”
+
+“I hope that you never will grow up,” said Tessa, earnestly, “every
+thing is just as bad as you can dream.”
+
+“Mr. Towne has given Sue coral ear-rings,” Dinah ran on. Tessa had gone
+down to her flower-bed to pull a few weeds that had pushed themselves in
+among her pansies. “He gave his mother several groups in stone for the
+dining-room; they are all funny, Sue says. In one, some children are
+playing doctor; in another, they are playing school. He gave his cousin
+a silk dress, and he bought himself a set of books for his birthday; he
+was thirty-two. Did you think he was so old?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I say, Tessa, Sue thinks that she is going to marry him.”
+
+“Does she?” The voice was away down in the flowers.
+
+“You are always among those flowers. Don’t you wish that we had a
+conservatory? They have a grand one at Old Place. I wonder why they have
+so little company.”
+
+“Mrs. Towne is feeble; she likes a quiet house.”
+
+“Yes, Sue says that. But Grace Geer, his cousin, is there! Mrs. Towne is
+to give Old Place and all its treasures to Mr. Towne upon his
+wedding-day; she wants a daughter more than any thing, Sue says. I wish
+she would take me. Sue thinks that she will take _her_. Every other word
+that she speaks is ‘Mr. Ralph.’ She talks about him everywhere. Do _you_
+believe it?”
+
+“Believe what?”
+
+Tessa had returned to the piazza with a bunch of pansies.
+
+“Believe that she will marry him! She has real pretty manners when she
+is with them, and really tries not to talk slang. But I don’t believe
+it. He treats her as he would treat any one else; I have seen them
+together.”
+
+“Perhaps she will. People say so,” said Tessa.
+
+Poor motherless, sisterless Sue! Was she making a disappointment for
+herself out of nothing? Or was it out of a something like hers?
+
+It was certainly true that Sue Greyson had taken a summer tour with Mrs.
+Towne and Mr. Ralph Towne, and that she had spent more of her time
+during the last year at Old Place than in her own small, unlovely home.
+She loved her father “well enough,” she would have told you; but after
+the months at Old Place, she found the cottage in Dunellen a stale and
+prosaic affair; her father had old Aunt Jane to keep house for him, why
+did he need her? He would have to do without her some day. Doctor Lake
+was great fun, why could he not be interested in him?
+
+“He is a stranger, not my only daughter,” her father had once replied.
+
+“Your father will be glad enough and proud enough that he let you come
+to Old Place,” comforted Grace Geer, when Sue told her that he missed
+her at home. “Ralph Towne’s wife will be a happy woman for more reasons
+than one; and he is interested in you, as one can see at a glance. He
+told his mother to-day that he should always be glad that they had come
+to Old Place.”
+
+
+
+
+II.—THE SILENT SIDE.
+
+
+It was nearly six weeks after the day that she had watched him as far as
+the clump of willows that he came again. Sue Greyson had driven him into
+Dunellen that morning and had stopped at the gate on her return to tell
+her about her “grand splendid, delightful times” at Old Place.
+
+“Cousin Grace has gone away; how we miss her music! Mr. Ralph did not
+care for it, but Mrs. Towne and I cared. Mrs. Towne says that I ought to
+have a music teacher; but I never did practice when I had one. I can’t
+apply my mind to any thing; Mr. Ralph says that I learn by observation.
+I wonder why wise men choose silly wives always,” she added consciously,
+playing with the reins.
+
+“Do they?” asked Tessa, picking a lilac leaf from the shrubbery.
+
+[Illustration: “Is not this what we usually call the Indian summer?”
+said Tessa, as she extended her hand.]
+
+“Cousin Grace says so. I wish I knew what ails Mr. Ralph. His mother
+says that he is having a worry; she always knows when he is having a
+worry by his eyes; they do look very melancholy, and last night I
+overheard him say to Mrs. Towne, ‘A man has to keep his eyes pretty wide
+open not to step on peoples’ toes.’ I didn’t think much of that, but he
+said afterward, ‘A man may do in an hour what he can’t _undo_ in a
+lifetime.’ He never talks much, so I know that something is on his mind,
+or he would not have talked so long. She said that he must be patient
+and do right.”
+
+“Why, Sue, you did not listen!”
+
+“Of course not. They were in the library, and I was on the balcony
+outside the window. I heard his voice—he was walking up and down, and, I
+confess, I _did_ want to know what it was all about! I thought that it
+might be about me, you know. But I can’t stay here all day; Mrs. Towne
+is to take me to spend the day with the Gesners. It is splendid there.
+Mr. John Gesner I don’t like, but Mr. Lewis Gesner treats me so
+respectfully and talks to me as if he liked to hear me talk. And Miss
+Gesner is loveliness personified! Mr. Towne said that he had a call to
+make this afternoon, and would walk home. He will be up in the four
+o’clock train.”
+
+“A call to make!”
+
+The words were in her ears all day; she dressed for her walk, then
+concluded to stay at home. How could he undo what he had so
+thoughtlessly, so mercilessly, done? Would he come and talk to her as he
+had talked to his mother? Would he say, “I am sorry that you have
+misinterpreted my words?” Misinterpreted! Did they not both speak
+English? Sincere, straightforward, frank English? It was the only
+language that she knew. In what tongue had he spoken to her?
+
+Her fluttering reverie was brought to a sudden and giddy end; the sound
+of a firm tread on the dried leaves under the maple-trees outside the
+gate, a tall figure in plain, elegant black,—the startled color in her
+eyes told the rest; she sprang to her feet, dropped her long, white
+work, shook off all outward nervousness, brushed her hair, fastened a
+bow of blue ribbon down low on her braids, questioned her eyes and lips
+to ascertain if they were _safe_, and then passed down the stair-way
+with a light, sure tread, and stood on the piazza to welcome Ralph
+Towne; her own composed, womanly self, rather more self-repressed than
+usual, and with a slight stateliness that she had never assumed with
+him. But he only noted that she appeared well and radiant; he understood
+her no more—than he understood several other things. Ralph Towne had
+been called “slow” from his babyhood.
+
+“Is not this what we usually call the Indian summer? We have not had
+frost yet, I think,” she said easily.
+
+His dark face crimsoned, he answered briefly, and dropped her hand.
+
+If he had ever prided himself upon his tact, he was aware that to-day it
+would be a most miserable failure. How could he say, “You have
+misunderstood me,” when perhaps it was he who had misunderstood her? He
+had come to her to-day by sheer force of will, not daring to stay away
+longer—and what had he come for? To assure her—perhaps he did not intend
+to assure her any thing; perhaps it was not necessary to assure her any
+thing. Not very long ago he _had_ assured her that he could become to
+her her “ideal of a friend,” if she would “show” him how. Poor Tessa!
+This showing him how was weary work. “Yes,” he replied, wheeling a chair
+nearer the open window, “the country is beautiful.”
+
+That look about her flexible lips was telling its own story; she was
+just the woman, he reasoned, to break her heart about such a fellow as
+he was.
+
+“I have very little time for any thing outside my work,” he said,
+running on with his mental comments. All a man had to do to make himself
+a hero was to let a woman like this fall in love with him.
+
+“What have _you_ been doing?” he asked in his tone of sincere interest.
+
+“All my own doings,” she said lightly. “Mr. Hammerton and I have been
+writing a criticism upon a novel and comparing notes, and I have sewed,
+as all ladies do, and walked.”
+
+“You are an English girl about walking.”
+
+“I know every step of the way between Dunellen and Mayfield. Do _you_
+walk?”
+
+“No, I drive. My life has a lack. My book is falling through. I do not
+find much in life.”
+
+“Our best things are nearest to us, close about our feet,” she answered.
+
+He did not reply. Ralph Towne never replied unless he chose.
+
+He opened his watch; he had been with her exactly ten minutes.
+
+“I have an engagement at six,” he said.
+
+The flexible lips stiffened. “Do not let me detain you.”
+
+He was regarding her with a smile in his eyes that she could not
+interpret; her graceful head was thrown back against the mass of fluffy
+white upon the chair, the white softening the outlines of a face that
+surely needed not softening; the clear, unshrinking eyes meeting his
+with all her truth in them; the blue ribbon at her throat, the gray
+cashmere falling around her, touched him with a sense of fitness; the
+slight hands clasping each other in her lap, slight even with their
+strength, partly annoyed, partly baffled him. Mr. Hammerton had told her
+that she had wilful hands.
+
+Regarding Tessa Wadsworth as regarding some other things, Ralph Towne
+thought because he felt; he could not think any further than he thought
+to-day, because he had not felt any further.
+
+There was another friend in her life who with Tessa Wadsworth as with
+some other things felt because he thought, and he could not feel any
+further than he felt to-day because he had not thought any further.
+
+For the first time since she had known Ralph Towne, she was wishing that
+he were like Gus Hammerton. It had never occurred to her before to wish
+that he would change.
+
+Each smiled under the survey. He was thinking, “I wish I loved you.” She
+was thinking, “You are a dear, big boy; I wish you were more manly.”
+
+“You did not send me the poem you promised.”
+
+“You said you would come soon.”
+
+“Did you expect me?”
+
+“Had I any reason to doubt your word?”
+
+“You must not take literally all I say,” he answered with irritation.
+
+“I have learned that. I have studied the world’s arithmetic, but I do
+not use it to solve any word of yours, any more than I have supposed
+that you would use it to find the meaning of any problem you might
+discover in my attitude towards you.”
+
+“It is best not to dig and delve for a meaning, Miss Tessa; society
+sanctions many phrases that you would not speak in sincerity.”
+
+“Society!” she repeated in a tone that brought the color to his
+forehead. “Is society my law-giver?”
+
+It was very pleasant to be loved by a woman like this woman; he could
+not understand her, but she touched him like the perfume of the white
+rose, or the note of the thrush. His next words were sincere and abrupt.
+“You asked me some time since to burn the package of poems you have
+written for me. If I had done as much for you, would you destroy them?”
+
+A flush, a dropping of the eyes, and a low laugh answered him.
+
+He arose quickly, with a motion of tossing off an ugly sensation. “I am
+very much engaged; I do not know when I can come again. We are going
+west for the winter.”
+
+She could not lift her eyes, or speak, or catch her breath. She arose,
+slowly, as if the movement were almost too great an effort, and stood
+leaning against the tall chair, her fingers fumbling with the fringe of
+the tidy; the room had become so darkened that the white fringe was but
+a dark outline of something that she could feel.
+
+“Sue Greyson is to accompany my mother; I shall be much away, and I do
+not like to leave her with strangers.”
+
+“Sue is pleasant and lively.” She had spoken, and now she could, not
+quite clearly yet, but a glance revealed the blood surging to his
+forehead, the veins swollen in his temples, even through the heavy
+mustache she discerned the twitching of his lips. The pain in her heart
+had opened her eyes wide. Had he come to make the parting final? What
+had she done that he should thus thrust her away outside of all the
+interests in his life? Did he know how she cared, and was he so sorry?
+Was he trying to be “patient,” as his mother had advised—patient with
+her for taking him at his word?
+
+Dunellen had called her proud; this instant she was as humble as a
+child.
+
+Slowly and sorrowfully she said, “Come again—some time.”
+
+“Yes,” he said, as slowly and as sorrowfully, “I will.”
+
+He was very sorry for this woman who had been so foolish as to think
+that his words had meant so much.
+
+She had closed the street door and was on the first step of the stairs
+when her mother called to her from the sitting-room.
+
+“What did Sir Dignified Undemonstrative have to say for himself?”
+
+“He does not talk about himself.”
+
+“It is your turn to get tea! It is Bridget’s afternoon out.”
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth was a little lady something less than five feet in
+height, as slight as a girl of twelve, and prettier than either of her
+daughters; with brown hair, brown eyes, and the sprightliest manner
+possible.
+
+“Young enough to be Tessa’s sister,” Dunellen declared.
+
+But she was neither sister nor mother as her elder daughter defined the
+words.
+
+“If you get him, Tessa, you’ll get a catch,” remarked Mrs. Wadsworth
+watching the effect of her words.
+
+The first sound of her mother’s voice had brought her to herself, her
+self-contained, cautious and, oftentimes, sarcastic self.
+
+“Have you any order about tea?”
+
+Her studied respect toward her mother, was pitiful sometimes. It was
+hard that she could not attain somewhat of her ideal of daughterhood.
+
+“No, but I want you to do an errand for me after tea. I forgot to ask
+Dine to do it on her way from school.”
+
+“Very well,” she assented obediently.
+
+She stumbled on the basement stairs, and found the kitchen so dark that
+she groped her way to a chair and sank into it, dropping her head on the
+table. She could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing—the whole earth
+was empty!
+
+Where was God? Had He gone, too?
+
+Through the open windows floated the sound of girls’ voices, as Norah
+and Dinah chatted and laughed in the garden. But the sound was far off;
+the engine whistled and screamed, but the sound was not in her world;
+carriages rolled past, the front gate swung to, her father’s step was on
+the piazza over her head, and he was calling, her dear old father,
+“Where are you all, my three girls?”
+
+His fulfilled hope was bitterer than all her disappointments ever could
+be.
+
+“I don’t wonder,” she said with a sob in her throat, as she arose and
+pushed her hair back, “I don’t wonder that he can not love me; but oh, I
+wish that he had not told me a lie!”
+
+October passed; the days hurried into November; there was no more
+leaf-hunting for her, no more long walks down the beautiful country
+road, no more tripping up and down stairs with a song or a hymn on her
+lips, no more of life, she would have said, for every thing seemed like
+death. She did not die with shame, as at first she was sure that she
+would do; she could not run away to the far end of the earth where she
+would never again see his face; where every face would be a new face,
+where no voice would speak his name; she could not dig a hole in the
+earth and creep into it; she could not lie down at night and shut her
+tired eyes, with both hands under her cheek, as she always fell asleep,
+and never awake again, as she would love best of all to do; she could
+cry out, but she could not hear the answer, “Oh, please tell me when I
+_meant_ to be so good, why it had to be so hard.”
+
+No; she had to live in a world where people would laugh at her if they
+only knew; how she would shiver and freeze if her mother should once
+begin to harp upon the sudden break. She could not bemoan herself all
+the time; she was compelled to live because she had been born, and she
+was compelled to thrive and grow cheery; there were even moments when
+she forgot to be ashamed, for her mother’s winter cough set in with the
+cold winds, and beside being nurse, she was in reality the head of the
+small household. Dinah was preparing to be graduated in the summer and
+was no help at all; instead, an hour or two every evening Tessa was
+asked to study with her, for she did not love study and was not quick
+like her sister.
+
+And then she had her own special work to do, for she was a scribbler in
+prose and rhyme; the half dozen weeklies that came to the house
+contained more than once or twice during the year sprightly or pathetic
+articles under the initials T. L. W.
+
+But few knew of this her “literary streak,” as her mother styled it, for
+she dreaded any publicity.
+
+Miss Jewett, her father, and Mr. Hammerton were her sole encouragers and
+advisers; Mr. Towne was not aware that she dipped her pen in ink for any
+one’s pleasure but his own. Beside this work there were friends to
+entertain, half the girldom in Dunellen were her friends or had been at
+some time.
+
+Ralph Towne often wondered how she was “taking” it; he could have found
+no sign of it in her face or in her life. Her father feared that she was
+being overworked. Mr. Hammerton’s short-sighted eyes noticed a shadow
+flit across her eyes, sometimes, when she was talking to him, and said
+to himself, “I see her often; I see a change that is not a change; there
+is something happening that no one knows.”
+
+
+
+
+III.—THE LAST NIGHT OF THE OLD YEAR.
+
+
+All her life she had longed for personal beauty; she loved every
+beautiful thing and she wanted to love her own face. It was Ralph
+Towne’s perfect face that had drawn her to him, his voice, and his eyes,
+like the woods in October.
+
+She had studied her face times enough by lamplight and sunlight to know
+it thoroughly, but she could not discover the sweetness that Miss Jewett
+saw, or the intelligence that delighted her father; she could find
+without much searching the freckles on her nose, the shortness of her
+upper lip, the two slight marks that infantile chicken-pox had dented
+into her forehead, the upward tendency of her nose, and the dimple that
+was only half a dimple in her chin.
+
+She was as pretty and as homely as any of the fair, blue-eyed girls in
+Dunellen or elsewhere: with lips that shaped themselves with every
+passing feeling; with eyes that could grow so bright and dark that one
+could forget how bright they were; with the palest of chestnut hair,
+worn high or low, as the little world of Dunellen demanded; with hands
+slight and characteristic; a figure neither tall nor slender, but
+perfectly proportioned, rounded and graceful; arrayed as neatly and
+becomingly as she could be on her limited allowance, usually in plain
+colors, often in black of a soft texture with a ribbon of some pale tint
+at her throat and among her braids. A stranger might have taken her for
+any one of the twenty-three girls in Miss Jewett’s Bible class; that is
+any one of the blue-eyed ones who wore gray vails and gray walking
+suits.
+
+But you and I know better.
+
+With her self-depreciation she was one thing that she was not likely to
+guess—the prettiest talker in the world.
+
+Felix Harrison had told Miss Jewett so years ago.
+
+“I haven’t any accomplishments,” she often sighed.
+
+“You do not need any,” Mr. Hammerton had once said.
+
+One morning in December she chanced upon a bundle of old letters in one
+of Dinah’s drawers, they were written during the winter that she had
+spent in the city two years ago.
+
+She drew one from its envelope; it was dated December 22, just two years
+ago to-day; she ran through it eagerly. How often she had remembered
+that day as an era; the beginning of the best things in her uneventful
+life! The second perusal was more slow. “I have seen somebody new; he is
+a friend of Aunt Dinah’s, or his mother is, or was. Don’t you remember
+that handsome house near Mayfield, just above Laura’s? When they were
+building it, Laura and I used to speculate as to whom it belonged, and
+wonder if it would make any difference to us. She said she would marry
+the son (for of course there would be a handsome and learned son) and
+that I should come to live with her forever; and Felix said that he
+would buy it for me, some day; you and I used to play that we owned it
+but that we preferred to live nearer Dunellen and had left it in charge
+of our housekeeper! How often when the former owner was in Europe, I
+have stood outside the gates and peered in and planned how happy we
+would all be there. Father should rest and read, and enjoy all the
+beautiful walks and the woods and the streams in the meadow with the
+rustic bridge, and mother should have a coach and four, and you and Gus
+and I would have it all.
+
+“All this preamble is to introduce the fact that the somebody new is the
+owner of Old Place. Isn’t that an odd name? I don’t like it; I should
+call it Maplewood; in the autumn it is nothing but one glory of maple.
+His mother named it and they have become accustomed to its queerness.
+His mother is wintering with a relative, an invalid, I believe; I think
+that she has taken the invalid to Florida and the son (the father died
+long ago) has come to spend the winter in the city. They say he is wise
+and learned (I do not see any evidence of it, however), but he certainly
+is a veritable Tawwo Chikwo, the beauty of the world. Get out my old
+Lavengro and read about him.
+
+“He is almost as dark as a gypsy, too, his eyes are the brownest and
+sunniest. I never saw such eyes (a sunbeam was lost one day and crept
+into his eyes for a home), his hair, beard, and mustache are as brown as
+his eyes; as brown, but not at all bright.
+
+“He looks like a big boy, but Aunt Dinah says that he is in the
+neighborhood of thirty; his life has left no trace in his face, or
+perhaps all that brown hair covers the traces of discipline. His manner
+is gentleness and dignity united. But he can’t talk. Or perhaps he
+won’t.
+
+“His replies (he ventures nothing else) are simple, good, kind, and
+above all, _sincere_. I have a feeling that I shall believe every word
+he says. That is something new for me, too. He doesn’t think much of me.
+He likes to hear me talk though; I have made several bright remarks for
+the pleasure of the sunbeam in his eyes.
+
+“If I were his mother I should be sorry to do or say any thing to
+frighten it away.
+
+“I know that he has never been in love; he could not be such a dear,
+grave, humorous, gentle, dignified, stupid big boy if some girl had
+shaken him up.
+
+“If he were the talker that Gus Hammerton is, I should go into raptures
+over him. He is a doctor, too, but he has not begun practice; he has
+been travelling with his mother. Is it not lovely to be rich enough to
+do just what you like?
+
+“Tell Gus that I will answer his letter sometime; you may let him read
+this if you like.”
+
+This letter she tore into atoms; she glanced over the others to find
+Ralph Towne’s name; not once did she find it.
+
+“I will do something to commemorate this anniversary,” she thought. “I
+will drop his photograph into the fire, and tear the fly-leaf out of the
+Mrs. Browning he gave me.”
+
+Her name and his initials were all that was written in the book; very
+carefully she cut out the entire page.
+
+“Why, child! have you seen a ghost?” her mother exclaimed, meeting her
+in the hall.
+
+“Yes, but it was only a ghost; there was nothing real about it.”
+
+That afternoon, having some sewing to do for her father, she betook
+herself to the chilliness of the parlor grate; her mother was in a
+fault-find frame of mind and Tessa’s nerves were ready to be set on edge
+at the least provocation.
+
+That parlor! She would have wept over its shabbiness had she ever been
+able to find tears for such purposes. Wheeling an arm-chair near enough
+to the grate to be made comfortable by all the heat there was, she
+placed her feet on the fender and folded her hands over the work in her
+lap. It was a raw day, the sky over Mr. Bird’s house was unsympathetic,
+the bare branches in the apple orchard stretched out in all directions
+stiff and dry as if they were never to become green again; the outlook
+was not cheering, the inlook was little more so; but how could she wish
+for any thing more than her father was able to give his three dear
+girls!
+
+This room had seemed pretty to her in the summer when the windows were
+open and she could have flowers everywhere; Ralph Towne always spoke of
+her flowers, and he had more than once leaned back in that worn green
+arm-chair opposite hers, as if that stiff, low room were the place of
+all places that he loved to be in. In dreary contrast with his own home,
+how poor and tasteless this home must be! How the carpet must stare up
+at him with its bunches of flowers and leaves upon its faded gray
+ground; how plain the white shades must appear after curtains of real
+lace; how worn and yellowish the green rep of the black-walnut
+furniture; how few the books in the small bookcase; and the photographs
+and engravings upon the walls, how they must shock him! How meagre and
+coarse her dress must be to him after his mother’s rich attire!
+
+She despised herself for pitying herself!
+
+Sue Greyson said that Old Place was fairy-land, but in her catalogue of
+its attractions she had omitted the spacious library; his “den,” Mr.
+Towne called it. In Tessa’s imagination he was ever in that room buried
+among its treasures.
+
+Was her photograph in that room? What had he done with it? Where was he
+keeping it? How he had coaxed for it! She had had it taken unwillingly;
+it was altogether too much like giving herself away; but when she could
+refuse no longer she had given it to him. A vignette with all herself in
+it; too much of herself for him to understand; what would he do with it
+now? Burn it, perhaps, as she had burned his; but he would not be
+burning a ghost, it was her own self, that he had thrown away.
+
+“I should have despised myself forever if I had not believed in him and
+been true,” she reasoned. “I would rather trust in a lie than not
+believe the truth. And how could I know that he was not true!”
+
+She took up her work and began to sew, her reverie running on and
+running away with her; an ottoman stood near her, she had laid
+needlework and scissors upon it: how many associations there were
+clustering around it! It was an ugly looking thing, too; her mother had
+worked the cover one winter years ago when she was kept in by a cough;
+the wreath of roses was so unlike roses, and the parrot that was poised
+in the centre of the wreath, on a brown twig, was so ungainly! One
+night—how long ago it was—before she had ever seen Ralph Towne, Felix
+Harrison had been seated upon it while he told her with such a warm, shy
+glance that he never slept without praying for her. And Ralph Towne had
+scattered his photographs over it, and asked her to choose from among
+them, saying, “I should not have had them taken but for you.”
+
+The ugly old parrot was dear after all.
+
+“I wonder,” she soliloquized, taking slow stitches, “if having lost
+faith in a person, it can ever be brought back again? If he should come
+and say that he has been wrong—”
+
+The gate clicked, in an instant she was on her feet, _had_ he come to
+confess himself in the wrong? Oh, how she would forgive and forget! And
+trust him?
+
+The tall thin figure had a stoop in its shoulders, Ralph Towne was
+erect; the overcoat was carelessly worn, revealing a threadbare vest and
+loose black necktie; it was only Dr. Lake, Dr. Greyson’s new partner.
+
+She had been drawn to him the first moment of their meeting. As soon as
+he had left after his first call, she had said to Dinah: “I never felt
+so towards any one before; I shall be so sorry for him to go away where
+I can not follow him; I want to put my arms around him and coax him to
+be good.”
+
+“How do you know that he isn’t good?”
+
+“I do know it. I do not know how I know. He hasn’t any ‘women folks’
+either. He is as sensitive to every change in one’s voice as the
+thermometer is to changes in the atmosphere. I never saw any one like
+him before. When I make a collection of curiosities I find in Human
+Nature, I shall certainly take him for one of the rarest and most
+interesting. It would not take two minutes to convert him from the
+inquisitor to the martyr at the stake. I feel as if he were a little
+child crying with a thorn in his finger, and he had no mother to take it
+out.”
+
+“He was only here fifteen minutes and he was as full of fun as he could
+be; he ran down the piazza, and he whistled while he was unhitching his
+horse, and began to sing as he drove off. Oh, you are so funny! you hear
+a man talk slang—he is equal to Sue Greyson for that—ask mother about
+her cough, tell a funny story, and then think his heart is breaking with
+a thorn in his finger.”
+
+Tessa would not laugh. “I want him to stay; I don’t want ever to lose
+him.”
+
+“Isn’t he ugly? Such a tall, square forehead. Did you ever see such a
+forehead?”
+
+“My first thought of him was, ‘oh, how homely you are.’”
+
+But that first thought never recurred; she was too much attracted by his
+rapid, easy utterance and sensitive voice to remember his plain face and
+careless attire.
+
+She resumed her sewing with a new train of thought and had forgotten Dr.
+Lake’s entrance, when Bridget came to the door with a request from Mrs
+Wadsworth; opening the door of the sitting-room, she found her mother
+leaning back in her sewing chair with a plaintive and childish
+expression, and Dr. Lake playing with her spools of silk, sitting in a
+careless attitude of perfect grace at her side. Tessa was sorry to have
+the picture spoiled by his rising to greet her.
+
+“Ralph Towne, M.D.,” he was replying, “he was born with a gold spoon in
+his pretty mouth! It would have been better for him if it had been
+silver-plated like mine. Quit? He’s a mummy, a cloister, a tomb! I do
+not quarrel with any man’s calling,” he continued, winding the black
+silk around his fingers, “circumstances have made me a physician.
+Calling! It means something only when circumstances have nothing to do
+with it.”
+
+“Read the lives of the world’s best workers,” said Tessa.
+
+“A glass of water, an empty glass, and a spoon, if you please, Miss
+Tessa. Do you remember—I have forgotten his name—but I assure you that I
+am not concocting the story—he rose to eminence in the medical
+profession, several rounds higher in the ladder of fame than I expect to
+climb—and his mind was drawn towards medicine when he was a youngster by
+the display of gold lace that his father’s physician flung into the eyes
+of the world. Gold lace made that boy a famous doctor.” Tessa brought
+the glasses and the water; in a leisurely manner he counted a certain
+number of spoonfuls of water into the empty glass. “I’m a commonplace
+fellow! I’m not one of the world’s workers! Neither is Ralph Towne! To
+have an easy life and not do _much_ harm is the most I hope for in this
+world; as for the next, who knows anything about that? I say, ‘Your
+tongue, please,’ and drop medicine and make powders all day long for my
+bread and butter. I have no faith in medicine.”
+
+“Then you are an impostor! You shall never see even the tip of my
+tongue.”
+
+He laughed as if it were such fun to laugh.
+
+“What is medicine to you?” he asked after counting forty drops from a
+vial into the water. “A woman in a crowd once touched the border of a
+certain garment and through faith was healed; so I take the thing that
+He has ordained for healing, all created things are His garment; through
+His garment I come nearer to Him and am healed.”
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth looked annoyed. “So I may take cream instead of cod liver
+oil, doctor.”
+
+“If you prefer it,” he answered carelessly. “Miss Tessa, you are a
+Mystic.”
+
+Tessa liked to watch the motion of his fingers; his hands were small,
+shapely, and every movement of them struck her as an apt quotation. She
+was learning as much of himself from his hands as from his face.
+
+“Now I must go and scold Felix Harrison,” he said rising. “A teaspoonful
+in a wineglass of water three times a day, Mrs. Wadsworth! He had an
+attack last night and cheated me out of my dreams. Do you know him,
+Mystic? If he do not leave off brain work he will make a fool of
+himself. A gold spoon would not have hurt him.”
+
+He turned suddenly facing Tessa as they stood alone in the hall; he was
+seriousness itself now; a look of care had settled over his features. He
+was not a “big boy,” he was a man, undisciplined, it is true, but a man
+to whom life meant many disappointments and hard work.
+
+“What is the matter with you? Do you ever go to sleep? If you do not
+give up thinking and take to nonsense and novels, I shall be called to
+take you through a nervous fever. Mind, I am in earnest. Don’t spend too
+much time in washing the disciples’ feet either; it is very charming to
+be St. Theresa, but you are not strong enough.”
+
+“Thank you. I am well. Is Sue at home?”
+
+“No, she stays at Old Place until her knight departs. He had better go
+soon or I shall meet him in the woods. Alone. At midnight. What is he
+trifling with her for? Does he intend to marry her?”
+
+Was this his thorn? Could he love a shallow girl like Sue Greyson?
+
+“Ought we to talk about her?” she asked gently.
+
+“You are her friend. You are older than she is. She will not listen to
+me. Her father takes no more care of her than he does of you.”
+
+“She has not cared for me lately.”
+
+“She does care for you. You must pull her through this. Towne made a
+fool of a girl I know—she is married, though; it didn’t smash her
+affections very deep; married rich, too. But it will be a pity for Sue
+to have a heartache all for nix; she is a guileless piece; I would be
+sorry for her to have a disappointment.”
+
+“Motherless children are always taken care of,” she answered trying to
+speak lightly.
+
+In the twilight she sat alone at the parlor grate; it was beginning to
+rain; through the mist the lights in kitchen and parlor opposite were
+gleaming; Dinah and Bridget were laughing in the basement; a quick, hard
+cough, then her father’s voice in a concerned tone sounded through the
+stillness.
+
+Why was she feeling lonely and as if her heart would break, unless
+somebody should come, or unless somebody gave her something, or unless
+something happened? In story-books, when one was in such a mood, in a
+misty twilight something always happened.
+
+Why were there not such strong helpers in her life as women in books
+always found? Compared with the grand, good, winning lover in books,
+what were the men she knew? Why, Dr. Lake was frivolous, Felix Harrison
+weak, Gus Hammerton practical and pedantic, and Mr. Towne heartless and
+stupid!
+
+“Gus is here,” said Dinah, her head appearing at the door, “and he has
+brought you a book! But I’m going to read it first.”
+
+“Well, I’ll come,” she answered. But she did not go for half an hour;
+Mr. Hammerton took the new book to her immediately and talked to her
+until her pale cheeks were in a glow.
+
+The last day of the year, what a day it was!
+
+It was like a mellow day in October; in the afternoon Tessa found
+herself wandering through Mayfield; as she sauntered past the
+school-house a voice arrested her, one of the voices that she knew best
+in the world. She stood near the entrance listening.
+
+That thrilling pathetic voice; it had never touched her as it touched
+her to-day.
+
+ “Old year, you shall not die;
+ We did so laugh and cry with you,
+ I’ve half a mind to die with you,
+ Old year, if you must die.”
+
+She stood but a moment, the voice read on, but she did not care to
+listen; she went on at a slow pace, enjoying each step of the way past
+the barren fields lying warm and brown in the sunlight, past the
+farm-houses, past the low-eaved homestead of the Harrisons, past the
+iron gates of the Old Place with the voice in her ears and the sigh for
+the old year in her heart. She almost wished that she could love Felix
+Harrison; she had refused him five times since her seventeenth birthday
+and in May she would be twenty-five! He had said that he would never ask
+her again. Why should she wish for any change to come into her life? If
+she might always live in the present, she would be content; she had her
+father and mother and Dine and Gus; her world was broad enough.
+
+The sound of wheels had been pursuing her; a sudden stoppage, then
+another voice that she knew called to her, “Miss Tessa, will you ride
+with me?”
+
+“Perhaps you are not going my way,” she said lightly.
+
+“I am going to Dunellen.” He answered her words only.
+
+As soon as they were seated in the carriage, she said very gravely, “I
+wrote you a letter last night, but I burned it this morning.”
+
+“I am sorry for that.”
+
+The words came out with a gasp and a jerk; she did not know that words
+_could_ choke like that, but she was glad as soon as she had spoken.
+“Mr. Towne, are you engaged to Sue Greyson?”
+
+“Engaged! And to Sue Greyson!”
+
+“I did not ask to be saucy—I did not believe it—but don’t be
+heartless—don’t be cruel—don’t be stupid, do think about her, and don’t
+let her die of shame.”
+
+“Excuse me, Miss Tessa. Why should you talk to me about Sue Greyson?”
+
+“I knew that you would not understand.”
+
+“Perhaps you can explain.”
+
+“I can’t explain; you ought to know.”
+
+“What ought I to know?” he queried, looking down at her with the
+sunshine in his eyes.
+
+“It seems mean in me to tell you such a thing, but I do not know of any
+other way for your sake and hers. I would do any thing to keep you from
+doing a heartless thing.”—Another heartless thing, she almost said.—“I
+would do any thing for Sue, as I would for Dine if _she_ had been led
+into trusting in a lie.”
+
+His face became perplexed, uncomprehending.
+
+“Are you trying to tell me that Sue Greyson thinks that I am intending
+to marry her and that I have given her an occasion to believe it? You
+are warning me against trifling with Sue?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“How do you know that she thinks so?”
+
+“Nonsense! How do I know any thing?”
+
+“I should as soon have thought—” he ended with a laugh.
+
+“A woman’s heart is not made of grains of sand to be blown hither and
+thither by a man’s breath,” she said very earnestly.
+
+“Miss Tessa, you accuse me wrongfully. I have been kind to Sue—I have
+intended to be kind. Her life at home is too quiet for her, she has few
+friends and no education; you call me heartless. I thought that I was
+most brotherly and thoughtful.”
+
+His sincerity almost reassured her. Had she misjudged him?
+
+“I beg your pardon,” she said, after an uncomfortable pause. “I did not
+know that Old Place was a monastery and that you were a monk. If you are
+speaking sincerely, you are the most stupid human being that ever
+breathed; if you are not sincere, you are too wily for me to
+understand.”
+
+The color rose to his forehead, but he was silent.
+
+“Mr. Towne! Excuse me. I am apt to speak too strongly; but I care so
+much for Sue. She is only a child in her experiences; she has no
+fore-thought, she trusts every body, and she thinks that you are so good
+and wonderful. She does not understand any thing but sincerity. Will you
+think about her?”
+
+“I will.”
+
+She was almost frightened, was he angry?
+
+“Are you angry with me?” she asked, laying her hand on his arm. “You can
+not misinterpret me; I don’t want Sue to be hurt, and I do not want you
+to be capable of hurting her.”
+
+“I understand you, Miss Tessa.”
+
+He spoke gently; her heart was at rest again.
+
+“You say that you can not understand whether I am wily or sincere?”
+
+“I can not understand.”
+
+“Neither can I. But I _think_ that I am sincere!”
+
+“And please be careful how you change your attitude towards her; you are
+unconventional enough to refuse a woman upon the slightest pretext. I
+know that you will say ‘I regret exceedingly, Miss Sue, that you have
+misinterpreted my friendly attentions.’”
+
+“I would like to; I think many things that I do not speak, Miss Tessa.”
+
+“Your head and heart would echo a perpetual silence if you did not,” she
+laughed. “The Sphinx is a chatterbox compared to you.”
+
+As they drove up under the maple-trees before the low iron gate, he
+said, “Has this year been a happy year to you? Do you sleep well?”
+
+“Wouldn’t you like to look at my tongue and feel my pulse?” she returned
+in her lightest tone.
+
+“Will you not answer me?” he asked gravely.
+
+“This year has been the best year of my life.”
+
+“So has it been my best year. This winter I shall decide several things
+pertaining to my future; it is my plan to practice for awhile—and not
+marry!”
+
+Were those last words for her? Discomfited and wounded—oh, how
+wounded!—her lips refused to speak.
+
+“Good-by,” she said, just touching his hand.
+
+He turned as he was driving off and lifted his hat, the sunshine of his
+eyes fell full upon her; her smile was but a pitiful effort; what right
+had he to say such a thing to her?
+
+“I hope,” she said, as she walked up the path, “that I shall never see
+you again.”
+
+“I wish that I had never seen her,” he ejaculated, touching his horse
+with the whip.
+
+And thus a part of the old year died and was buried.
+
+Shaking with cold, not daring to go away by herself, she irresolutely
+turned the knob of the sitting-room door; her face, she was aware, was
+not in a state to be taken before her mother’s critical eyes; but her
+heart was so crushed, she pitied herself with such infinite compassion,
+that she longed for some one to speak to her kindly, to touch her as if
+they loved her; any thing to take some of the aching away from that
+place in her heart where the tears were frozen.
+
+When she needed any mothering she gave it to herself; with her arms
+around her shivering, shrinking self, she was beseeching, “Be brave;
+it’s almost over.”
+
+In the old days, the impulsive little Tessa had always chided herself;
+the sensitive little Tessa had always comforted herself; the truthful,
+eager, castle-building little Tessa had always been her own refuge,
+shield, adviser, and best comforter.
+
+With more bosom friends than she knew how to have confidences with, with
+more admiring girl friends than she could find a place for, with more
+hearts open to her than to any one girl at school, Tessa the child,
+Tessa the maiden, and Tessa the woman had always lived within herself,
+leaned upon herself.
+
+Mr. Hammerton said that she was a confutation of the oak and vine
+theory, that he had stood and stood to be entwined about, but that she
+would never entwine.
+
+In this moment, standing at the door, with her hand upon the knob, a ray
+of comfort shone into her heart and nestled there like a gleam of
+sunlight peering through an opening in an under-growth, and the ray of
+comfort was, that, perhaps Gus Hammerton would come to-night and talk to
+her in his kindly, practical, unsentimental fashion, sympathizing with
+her unspoken thoughts, and tender towards the feelings of whose
+existence he was unaware.
+
+Perhaps—but of late, did she fancy, or was it true? that he was rather
+shy with her, and dropped into the chair nearest to Dinah.
+
+Well! she could be alone by and by and go to sleep!
+
+So relentless was she, in that instant toward Ralph Towne that it would
+have been absolute relief could she have looked into his dead face: to
+see the cold lids shut down fast over the sunshiny eyes, to know that
+the stiff lips could never open to speak meaningless words, to touch his
+head and feel assured that, warm and soft, his fingers could never hold
+hers again.
+
+“Why, Tessa, you look frozen to death,” exclaimed her mother. “How far
+did you go and where did you meet Mr. Towne?”
+
+“I went to Mayfield,” she closed the door and moved towards the gay
+little figure reading “The Story of Elizabeth” upon the lounge. “Mr.
+Towne overtook me after I had passed Old Place.”
+
+“O, Tessa,” cried Dinah, dropping her book, “Dr. Lake was here. What a
+pity you were out! He asked where ‘Mystic’ was. I made a list on the
+cover of my book of the things that he talked about. Just hear them. One
+ought to understand short-hand to keep up with him. Now listen.”
+
+Tessa stood and listened.
+
+ “‘The Valley of the Dog,
+ “‘The Car of Juggernaut,
+ “‘Insanity,
+ “‘Intemperance,
+ “‘Tobacco,
+ “‘Slavery,
+ “‘Church and State,
+ “‘Conceit,
+ “‘Surgery,
+ “‘The English Government,
+ “‘Marriage,
+ “‘Flirtations,
+ “‘Ladies as Physicians,
+ “‘The Wicked World,
+ “‘A Quotation from Scott.’
+
+“And that isn’t half. I began to grow interested there, and forgot to
+write.”
+
+“Where did the professional call come in?”
+
+“Oh, that doesn’t take a second. He watches his patient while he talks!
+Oh, and he told two hospital stories, a story of his school life, and
+about being lost in the woods, and about a camp-meeting! He is from
+Mississippi. Your Mr. Towne couldn’t say so much in ten years.”
+
+“He says that the disease in my lungs is not progressive, but that I
+should protect my health! I ought to spend every winter in the West
+Indies or in the south of Europe! South of Europe, indeed! On your
+father’s business! Now if I had married John Gesner I might have spent
+my winters in any part of the civilized world.”
+
+“Would you have taken us?” asked Dinah.
+
+“The future is veiled from us mercifully.”
+
+Dinah laughed. “Mother, you forget about love.”
+
+“_Love!_” exclaimed Mrs. Wadsworth scornfully, “I should like to know
+what love is.”
+
+“Father knows,” said Dinah. “Have you read ‘Elizabeth,’ Tessa?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“I’d _die_ before I’d act as she did, wouldn’t you? I’d die before I’d
+let any body know that I cared for him more than he cared for me,
+wouldn’t you?”
+
+“It isn’t so easy to die.”
+
+“Did Mr. Towne speak of Sue Greyson?” inquired Mrs. Wadsworth.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What did he say?”
+
+“Nothing—much?”
+
+“He must have said something. Couldn’t you judge of his feelings towards
+her?”
+
+“I am not a detective.”
+
+“H’m,” ejaculated Mrs. Wadsworth, glancing up at the uneasy lips, “if he
+can’t talk or sing, he can say something.”
+
+“Possibly.”
+
+Standing alone at one of the windows in her chamber, she watched the sun
+go down the last night of the old year.
+
+In her young indignation, she had called Ralph Towne some harsh names;
+while under the fascination of his presence, she had thought that she
+did not blame him for any thing; but standing alone with the happy,
+false old year behind her, and the new, empty year opening its door into
+nowhere, she cried, with a voiceless cry: “You are not true; you are not
+sincere; you are shallow and selfish.”
+
+At this moment, watching the same sunset, for he had an appreciation of
+pretty things, he was driving homeward almost as nerve-shaken as Tessa
+herself; according to his measure, he was regretting that these two
+trusting women were suffering because of his—he did not call it
+selfishness—he had been merely thoughtless.
+
+Tessa’s heart could kindle and glow and burn itself out into white ashes
+before his would feel the first tremor of heat; she had prided herself
+upon being a student of human nature, but this man in his selfishness,
+his slowness, his simplicity, had baffled her.
+
+How could she be a student of human nature if she understood nothing but
+truth?
+
+She was in a bitter mood to-night, not sparing Ralph Towne as she would
+not have spared herself. The crimson and gold faded! the gray shut down
+over her world: “How alone I shall be to live in a year without him!”
+
+“O, Tessa! Tessa!” cried Dinah, running up-stairs, “here’s Gus, and he
+has brought us something good and funny I know, for he’s so provokingly
+cool.”
+
+How could she think thoughts about the old year and the sunset with this
+practical friend down-stairs and a mysterious package that must mean
+books! She had expected to cry herself to sleep; instead she read
+Dickens with Mr. Hammerton until the new year was upon them.
+
+“Gus,” she said severely, with the volumes of Dickens piled in her arms
+up to her chin, “if I become matter-of-fact, practical, and commonplace
+there will be no one in the world to thank but you. I had a poem at my
+finger tips about the old year that would have forever shattered the
+fame of Tennyson and Longfellow.”
+
+“As we have lost it, we’ll be content with them,” he said. “Drop your
+books and let us read them.”
+
+Before the dawn she was dreaming and weeping in her sleep, for a voice
+was repeating, not the voice in the school-house, nor the voice that had
+read Longfellow, but the voice that had spoken the cold good-by at the
+gate:
+
+ “The leaves are falling, falling,
+ Solemnly and slow;
+ Caw! Caw! the rooks are calling,
+ It is a sound of woe,
+ A sound of woe!”
+
+
+
+
+IV.—SOMEBODY NEW.
+
+
+There was the faintest streak of sunshine on the dying verbenas in her
+garden; the dead leaves, twigs, and sprays looked as if some one who did
+not care had trampled on them. She was glad that the plants were in,
+that there was a warm place for them somewhere.
+
+The school children were jostling against each other on the planks, on
+the opposite side of the street, laughing and shouting. Nellie Bird was
+provokingly chanting:
+
+ “Freddie’s mad,
+ And I am glad,
+ And I know what will please him.”
+
+and there were two little girls in red riding hoods, plaid cloaks, and
+gay stockings, skipping along with their hands joined. It was a hard
+world for little girls to grow up in. She had run along the planks from
+school once, not so very long ago, swinging her lunch-basket and teasing
+Felix Harrison just as at this minute Nellie Bird was teasing Freddie
+Stone.
+
+Her needle was taking exquisite stitches; Dinah liked white aprons for
+school wear, and this was the last of the dainty half-dozen. Her
+mother’s voice and step broke in upon her reverie.
+
+“Tessa, I wouldn’t have believed it, but six of my cans of tomatoes have
+all sizzled up! Not one was last year, though. Mrs. Bird never has such
+good luck with hers as we have with ours.”
+
+“That’s too bad. But we have so many that we sha’n’t miss them.”
+
+“That isn’t the question. I remember how my side ached that day. Bridget
+was so stupid and you and Dine had gone up to West Point with Gus; he
+always is coming and taking you and Dine off somewhere! You are not
+attending to a word I say.”
+
+“Yes, I am; I am thinking how you took us all three to look at your cans
+of tomatoes.”
+
+“But you don’t care about the tomatoes. You never do take an interest in
+house-work. I would rather have Sue Greyson’s skin stuffed with straw
+than to have you around the house. And _she_ is going to marry Ralph
+Towne: she passed with him this morning; they were in the phaeton with
+that pair of little grays! And Sue was driving! I believe that you have
+taken cold in some way, you must see the doctor the next time he comes;
+your face is the color of chalk, and your eyes are as big as saucers
+with dark rims under them! You sat here writing altogether too late last
+night.”
+
+“It was only eleven when I went up-stairs.”
+
+“That was just an hour too late. What good does your writing do you or
+any body, I’d like to know.”
+
+“It is rather too early in my life to judge.”
+
+“Your father spoils you about writing; I suppose that he thinks you are
+a feather in _his_ cap; I tell him that you are none of my bringing up.”
+
+“I am not ‘up’ yet, perhaps.”
+
+“You may as well drop that work and take a run into Dunellen; the air
+will do you good. You had color enough in the summer. I want a spool of
+red silk, two pieces of crimson dress braid, and a spool of fifty
+cotton. Don’t get scarlet braid, I want crimson; and run into the
+library and get me something exciting; you might have known better than
+to bring me that volume of essays!”
+
+She folded the apron and laid it on the pile in the willow work-basket,
+wrapped herself in a bright shawl, covered her braids with a brown
+velvet hat, and started for her walk, drawing on her gloves as she went
+down the path.
+
+Her mother stood at the window watching her. “She is too deep for me,”
+she soliloquized; “there is more in her than I shall ever make out. She
+is so full of nonsense that I expect she has refused Ralph Towne, and
+what for, I can’t see—there’s no one else in the way.”
+
+In Tessa’s pocket was a long and wide envelope containing the article
+that she had sat up last night to write; the lessons gathered from her
+old year she had told in her simple, quaint, forcible style. The title
+was as simple as the article: “Making Mistakes.”
+
+“Tessa, you are not brilliant,” Miss Jewett had once remarked, “but you
+do go right to the spot.”
+
+The fresh air tinged her cheeks, she breathed more freely away from her
+work and her reveries; there was life and light somewhere, she need not
+suffocate in the dark.
+
+It was not a long walk into the little city of Dunellen; fifteen minutes
+of brisk stepping along the planks brought her to the corner that turned
+into the broad, paved, maple-lined street. As she turned the corner, a
+lame child in a calico dress and torn hood staggered past her bent with
+the weight of a heavy basket. She stopped and would have spoken, but the
+shy eyes were not encouraging.
+
+Two years ago all the world might have knocked at her gate and she would
+not have heard.
+
+“Will you ride?” She lifted her eyes, with their color deepening, to
+find Mr. Towne sitting alone in his carriage looking down at her.
+
+“You are going the wrong way.”
+
+“Because I am not going _your_ way?” he asked somewhat sternly.
+
+“I thought that you had gone away,” she said uncomfortably.
+
+“We go on the seventeenth.”
+
+“You have not told me where?”
+
+“Have I not? You have forgotten. Sue will stay at home and learn to be
+sensible.”
+
+“I don’t like you when you speak in that tone.”
+
+“Then I will never do it again.”
+
+“Good-by,” she said cheerily, passing on.
+
+His thoughts ran on—“How bright she is! She has a sweet heart, if ever a
+woman had! I wonder if I _am_ letting slip through my fingers one of the
+opportunities that come to a man but once in a lifetime! A year or two
+hence will do; she cares too much to forget me.”
+
+Her thoughts ran on-“How _can_ you look so good and so handsome and not
+be true!”
+
+With a quickened step she crossed the Park. Miss Jewett’s large fancy
+store was opposite the Park.
+
+Miss Jewett was never too tired or too busy to live again her young
+life. Sue Greyson was sure that she had broken somebody’s heart, else
+she never was so eloquent in warning her about Stacey Rheid. Laura
+Harrison had decided that she had once lived in constant dread of having
+a step-mother. Mary Sherwood wondered if she had ever been a busybody,
+and in that experience had learned to warn her to keep quiet her busy
+tongue; and Tessa Wadsworth knew that she must have learned her one word
+of advice: “Wait,” through years that she would not talk about.
+
+Miss Jewett was seldom alone; Tessa was glad to find the clerks absent
+and no one bending over the counter but Sue Greyson.
+
+“O, Tessa,” she cried in her loud, laughing voice. “I haven’t seen you
+in an age.”
+
+Miss Jewett’s greeting was a hand-clasp; among all her girls (and all
+the girls in Dunellen were hers) Tessa Wadsworth was the elected one.
+
+“Mrs. Towne has every thing so delicious,” Sue was rattling on; “such
+perfumes and such silks and such jewels. Oh, how Old Place makes my
+mouth water! I wish you could go over the place, Tessa; you were never
+even through the grounds, were you? Mr. Ralph takes great pride in
+keeping it nice; of course, it is really his. I’d marry any body to live
+there and have plenty of money and do just as I please; not that Mr.
+Ralph isn’t something out of the common, though. People say that he
+never means any thing by his attentions; Dr. Lake says—”
+
+“I hear that you are going to St. Louis,” interrupted Miss Jewett.
+
+“No, I’m not. And I’m as provoked as I can be and live! Something has
+happened; Mr. Ralph is an uneasy mortal; he never knows what he will do
+next, and he has changed his mind about taking me. My cake is all dough
+about my winter’s fun. How I cried the night she told me! The last night
+of the year, too, when I ought to have been full of fun. Mrs. Towne
+wants me to write to her, but I’d never dare, unless you would help me,
+Tessa, about the spelling and punctuation. Mr. Ralph would laugh until
+he died over my letters.
+
+“I don’t write to Stacey now, Miss Jewett. I wrote him a letter one
+Sunday from Old Place and told him that he might as well cease. Mr.
+Ralph and I had been walking through the wood and he asked me if I were
+engaged to Stacey! I thought it was about time to stop that.”
+
+“Perhaps if you had been home you wouldn’t have written that letter.
+Stacey is a fine fellow.”
+
+“Oh, I had thought of it, but that day I decided! Stacey can hardly
+support one, let alone two. Father says that I was born to have a rich
+husband because I have such luxurious tastes! I know that I shall die
+cooped up at home. I have to go out to see the sons and daughters of the
+land. Tessa, I don’t see how you live.”
+
+“I do, nevertheless,” said Tessa, selecting her spool of silk.
+
+“I shall have Dr. Lake this winter or I couldn’t exist. He says that he
+will take me everywhere if father will only give him the time. He is
+great fun, only he does get so moody and serious; sits for two hours in
+the office with his head in his hands. Mr. Ralph doesn’t have moods; he
+is always pleasant. I am going to stay these last few days at Old Place.
+Tessa, I am coming to stay all night with you and have a long talk.”
+
+“I shall be very glad; I have been wishing that you would.”
+
+“Oh, I’ll come. I have a whole budget to tell you.”
+
+“Sue, you look thin,” said Miss Jewett, rolling up her purchases.
+
+“I _am_ thin. Since the night before New Years I have lost three
+pounds.”
+
+The night before New Years! Tessa’s veil shaded her face falling between
+her and Sue.
+
+“Mr. Ralph lectured me; oh, _how_ he talked! When he will, he will,
+that’s the truth. His mother says that her will is nothing compared to
+his, and I believe it.” Sue’s face grew troubled. “He told me that I
+ought to read travels and histories, and throw away novels; that I ought
+to marry Stacey, if he is a good man and can take care of me—” Her voice
+sounded as if she were crying; she laughed instead and ran off.
+
+“Something at Old Place has hurt Sue; I didn’t like the idea of Mrs.
+Towne taking her up; Mr. Towne—I do not know about him! Do you?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“Ah, here comes Sarah! Rachel has a sore throat, and Mary has gone to
+the city to buy to-day. Light the gas, Sarah.”
+
+The light flashed over the faces: Miss Jewett’s almost as fair as a
+child’s, and sweeter than any child’s that Tessa had ever seen, with a
+mouth in the lines of which her whole history was written, with just a
+suspicion of dimples in the tinted cheeks, with brown rings of soft hair
+touching the smooth forehead; the younger face was hurried, anxious,
+with a trembling of the lips, and a nervous gleam in the eyes that were
+so dark, to-night, that they might have been mistaken for hazel.
+
+The door was pushed open; a crowd of girls giggled in; Tessa bowed to
+Mary Sherwood and moved aside. She was turning over a pile of wools,
+selecting colors for a sacque for Dinah, when a laugh from the group
+thrilled her; low, deep, full, in all her life she had never heard a
+sound like it.
+
+It was as sweet as the note of a thrush and as jubilant as a thoughtless
+girl.
+
+“Now, Naughty Nan, you are laughing at me. But I will forgive you,
+because you are going away so soon. When are you coming back?”
+
+“Never. I will allure the black bear to take me around the world.”
+
+Naughty Nan stepped back, tossing her curls away from her face; Tessa
+looked down into her face, for she was a little thing; it was not a
+remarkable face: a broad forehead, deep set brown eyes, a passable
+complexion, a saucy mouth. If she would only laugh again; but she would
+not even speak.
+
+How surprised Tessa would have been had she known that Naughty Nan had
+been studying her and wishing, “I want to be like you.”
+
+The group of girls giggled out.
+
+“I have fallen in love,” said Tessa.
+
+“With Nan Gerard? Every body does. She is one of those lovable little
+creatures that every body spoils! It’s strange that you haven’t met her;
+she is Mary Sherwood’s cousin.”
+
+“I do remember now—Mr. Hammerton told me that I must hear her laugh.”
+
+“Her home is in St. Louis; she had never been in Dunellen until a month
+since; she was her father’s pet and lived abroad with him until he died
+a year ago! He named her Naughty Nan. She has plenty of money and plenty
+of lovers! She is going home under the escort of Mr. Towne and his
+mother. Perhaps it is her laugh that has stolen his heart from Sue!
+Naughty Nan was to be married, but the gentleman died in consumption.”
+
+“And she can laugh as lightly as that! If my father should die I would
+never laugh again.”
+
+
+
+
+V.—HEARTS THAT WERE WAITING.
+
+
+On the evening of the eighteenth of January, Tessa was sitting alone in
+her chamber, wrapped in her shawl, writing. She was keeping a secret,
+for she was writing a book and no one knew it but Mr. Hammerton; he
+would not have known it had not several questions arisen to which she
+could find no answer.
+
+“I can not do without my encyclopedia,” she had said.
+
+She had written the title lovingly—“Under the Wings.”
+
+This chamber was her sanctuary; she was born in this room, she had lived
+in it ever since; her little battles had been fought on this consecrated
+ground, her angry tears, her wilful tears, and the few later grateful
+tears had fallen while kneeling at the side of the white-draped bed or
+sitting at the window with her head in her hands or on the window-sill.
+A stranger would have thought it a plain, low room with its cottage set
+of pale green and gold trimmings, its ingrain carpet of oak leaves on a
+green ground, its gray paper with scarlet border, and three white shades
+with scarlet tassels.
+
+The high mantel was piled with books, the gifts of her father, Mr.
+Hammerton, and Miss Jewett; on the walls were photographs in oval
+black-walnut frames of Miss Jewett, sitting at a table with her elbow
+upon it and one hand resting on a book in her lap, of her father and
+mother, she sitting and he standing behind her, and one of herself and
+Dinah, taken when they were fifteen and twenty-one; there were also a
+large photograph taken from a painting of the Mater Dolorosa, which Mr.
+Hammerton had given her on her fourteenth birthday and a chromo of Red
+Riding Hood that he had given to Dinah upon her fourteenth birthday.
+Upon the table at which she was writing, books were piled, and a package
+of old letters that she had been sorting, and choosing some to burn,
+among which were two from Felix Harrison. The package contained several
+from Mr. Hammerton, but his were never worth burning; they were only
+worth keeping because they were so like himself. Pages of manuscript
+were scattered among the books, and a long envelope contained two
+rejected articles that she had planned to rewrite after a consultation
+with Mr. Hammerton and to send elsewhere. She had cried over her first
+rejected article (when she was eighteen), and two years afterward had
+revised it, changed the title, and her father had been proud of it in
+print.
+
+She was writing and thinking of Sue when a noisy entrance below
+announced her presence.
+
+“Go right up,” said Mrs. Wadsworth’s voice. “Tessa is star-gazing in her
+room. Don’t stay if you are chilly. Tessa likes to be cold.”
+
+Tessa met her at the head of the stairs.
+
+“I’ve come to stay all night. Do you want me?”
+
+“I want you more than I want any one in the world.”
+
+“That’s refreshing. I wanted to see you and that’s why I came. Norah
+Bird said that Dine was to stay all night with her and I knew I should
+have you all to myself. Dr. Lake brought me. I believe that he wanted me
+to come. What do you stay up here for? It’s lovely down-stairs with your
+father and mother; she is sewing and he is reading to her. Put away that
+great pile of foolscap and talk to me; I’m as full of talk as an egg is
+full of meat.”
+
+“Must I break the shell?”
+
+“Your room always looks pretty and there isn’t much in it, either.”
+
+“Of course not, after Old Place.”
+
+“Old Place _is_ enchanting!” Sue tossed her gloves and hat to the bed.
+“I’ll keep on my sacque; I want to stay up here.”
+
+Tessa had reseated herself at the table. Sue dropped down on the carpet
+at her feet.
+
+“Have they gone?”
+
+“Oh, yes! I stayed to see them off and drove to the depot with them. We
+called for Nan Gerard. What a flirt that girl is! Any one would think
+that she had known Mr. Ralph all his life.”
+
+Sue leaned backward against Tessa; her face was feverish and excited,
+her thin cheeks would have looked hollow but for their high color, her
+eyes as she raised them revealed something new; something new and not
+altogether pleasant.
+
+Tessa touched her hair and then bent over and kissed her. It was so
+seldom that Sue was kissed.
+
+“You know that night—” Sue began with an effort, “the night before New
+Years. Mr. Ralph found me in his den, I was arranging one of his tables,
+and he said that he wanted to talk to me. And I should think he _did_! I
+didn’t know that he had so much tongue in his head. His mother calls him
+Ralph the Silent. Grace Geer calls him Ralph the Wily when nobody hears.
+He is Ralph the Hateful when he wants to be. How he went on! Fury!
+There! I promised him not to talk slang or to use ‘unlady-like
+exclamations.’ I was as high and mighty as he was, but I wanted to cry
+all the time. He said that I ought to live for something, that I am not
+a child but a woman. And I promised him that I wouldn’t read novels
+until he says that I may! He said that I didn’t know what trouble is!
+_He_ has had trouble, Grace Geer says. I don’t see how. Some girl I
+suppose. Perhaps she flirted with him. I hope she did. But I have had
+trouble. Did _he_ ever wait and wait and wait for a thing till he almost
+died with waiting, and then find that he didn’t get it and never
+_could_? Did you ever feel so?”
+
+The appealing eyes were looking into hers; she could not speak
+instantly.
+
+“I don’t believe that you ever did. You are quiet. You have a nice home
+and people to love you; your mother and father are so proud of you; your
+mother is always talking to people about you as if she couldn’t live
+without you! And you don’t have beaux and such horrid things! I
+shouldn’t think that you would like Dine to have a lover before you have
+one.”
+
+“Dine?” said Tessa, looking perplexed.
+
+“Why, yes, Mr. Hammerton.”
+
+“Oh, I forgot him,” replied Tessa, almost laughing.
+
+“I wish that I had _never_ seen Old Place. I never should have thought
+any thing if it hadn’t been for Grace Geer. Before I went to Old Place I
+expected to marry Stacey. She put things into my head. She used to call
+me Mrs. Ralph, and tell me how splendidly I could dress after I was
+married! And she used to ask me what he said to me and explain that it
+meant something. I didn’t know that it meant any thing. He was so old
+and so wise that I thought he could never think of me. Once she went
+home with me and she told father and Aunt Jane and Dr. Lake that they
+were going to lose me. He told me himself that night that he was more
+interested in me than in any body.”
+
+“Did he say that?” asked Tessa, startled.
+
+“Yes, he did.”
+
+“So am I interested in your life. I want to see what becomes of you.”
+
+“Oh, he didn’t mean _that_. He meant in me. But I suppose he didn’t mean
+any thing, or he wouldn’t have told his mother not to take me to St.
+Louis. You think I like him because he’s rich and handsome, but I don’t.
+I like him because he was so kind to me; nobody was ever so kind to me
+before; I can love any one who is kind to me. He gave me his photograph
+a year ago. It’s elegant. I’ll show it to you some time. I know he had
+six taken, for I saw them and counted them; he didn’t know it, though.
+And I heard him tell his mother that he had _five_ taken. I never could
+find out where that sixth one went to. I know that his mother had one,
+and Grace Geer, and Miss Sarepta Towne, that’s three! And mine was four,
+and Philip Towne’s was five. I asked him where the other was.”
+
+“What did he say?” asked Tessa, gravely.
+
+“He said nothing. I know that Aunt Jane thinks my not going the queerest
+thing in nature, and father looked rather nonplussed and asked me what I
+had been doing. I am as ashamed as I can be.”
+
+Tessa arranged her papers thoughtfully; she was pondering Grace Geer’s
+name for Mr. Towne.
+
+“Perhaps he will change his mind and come home and like me,” said Sue,
+brightening.
+
+“O, Sue, Sue, don’t make a disappointment for yourself! When there are
+so many good and beautiful things in the world, why do you see only this
+that is being withheld?”
+
+“Because—” with a drooping head, “I want it so.”
+
+“There are good men and good women in the world, Sue; men and women
+whose word is pure gold.”
+
+“Whose, I’d like to know?”
+
+“Miss Jewett’s.”
+
+“Oh, of course!”
+
+“And Gus Hammerton’s.”
+
+“Oh, he’s as wise and stupid as an owl!”
+
+“Dr. Johnson could think in Latin and I should not wonder if Gus could.”
+
+“But he’s awkward and never talks nonsense, and he wears spectacles and
+has a tiny bald spot on the top of his head, the place where the wool
+ought to grow! The girls don’t run after him.”
+
+“They are not wise enough.”
+
+“He’s so old, too.”
+
+“He’s younger than Mr. Towne.”
+
+“He doesn’t look so. And he’s poor.”
+
+“He has a good salary in the bank.”
+
+“Mr. Ralph has the pure gold, but it is not in his word. I only wish it
+was. I always pray over my love affairs; they ought to come out all
+right.”
+
+“How do you know what ‘all right’ is?”
+
+“I know what I want.”
+
+“I’ll say to you what Miss Jewett always says _Wait_.”
+
+“What for? I don’t know what I’m waiting for. Do you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What? Tell me.”
+
+“_The will of God_.”
+
+“Oh!” Sue drew nearer as if she were frightened. After a while she
+spoke: “I’m so sorry for dear Mrs. Towne. She has every thing in the
+world but the thing she wants most. She said one day that she would be
+willing to be the poorest woman in Dunellen if she might have a
+daughter. She said it one day after we had passed you; you were alone,
+picking up leaves near the corner by the brook. ‘A daughter like that,’
+she said, and she turned to look back at you; you were standing still
+with the leaves in your hand. Mr. Ralph didn’t say anything, but he
+looked back, too. I said, ‘That’s Tessa Wadsworth.’ Mrs. Towne said, ‘Do
+you know her, Ralph?’ and he said, ‘I have met her several times.’”
+
+Tessa had wiped her gold pen and slipped it into its morocco case; she
+closed her writing-desk as she said cheerily: “Now about this winter,
+Sue; what do you intend to do?”
+
+“You don’t know how horrid it is at home! Father always has his pockets
+full of bottles and he doesn’t care for the things that interest me; all
+he talks about is his ‘cases,’ and all Aunt Jane cares for is house-work
+and the murders in the newspapers; Dr. Lake is splendid, but he’s so
+poor and he’s low-spirited when he isn’t full of fun; and when his
+engagement with father is ended he’ll set up for himself, and it will
+take him a century to afford to be married.”
+
+“Sue, look up at me and listen.”
+
+Sue looked up and listened.
+
+“I pray you don’t flirt with Dr. Lake.”
+
+Sue laughed a conscious laugh.
+
+“Men flirt; they haven’t any hearts.”
+
+“He has. You do not know the influence for evil that you may become in
+his life.”
+
+Sue’s eyes grew wild, she clung to Tessa with both hands. “You sha’n’t
+talk so to me. You sha’n’t. You make me afraid. I’ll try to be good. I
+_will_ try.”
+
+“How will you try?”
+
+“I won’t try to make him like me. I am sure that he would if I should
+try a little. I’ll tell him about Stacey. Tessa, _I don’t want to be an
+old maid._”
+
+Tessa’s eyes and lips kept themselves grave.
+
+“I wouldn’t think about that. I’d do good and be good; I’d help Aunt
+Jane, and go with your father on his long drives—”
+
+“I’d rather go with Dr. Lake.”
+
+“Let your father see what a delightful daughter you can be. My father
+and I can talk for hours about books and places and people.”
+
+“Hateful! I hate books. And I don’t know about places and book-people.”
+
+“And don’t wait for Dr. Lake to come in at night.”
+
+“I do. I made him a cup of coffee last night.”
+
+“Who makes coffee for your father?”
+
+“Oh father thought that I made it for him. But Dr. Lake knew!”
+
+“I will read history with you this winter. Dine and I intend to study
+German with Gus Hammerton; you can study with us, if you will.”
+
+“Ugh!” groaned Sue, “as if that were as much fun as getting married.”
+
+“It may help along. Who knows?” laughed Tessa.
+
+“I’m going to make Miss Gesner a visit next month. She asked me to-day.
+But they are such old men? Mr. John Gesner is an old beau! Mr. Lewis is
+lovely, so kind and polite. And Miss Gesner is charming when she doesn’t
+try to educate me. Their house is grander than Old Place and they keep
+more servants. I’ll forget all about Old Place before spring. Mr. John
+Gesner likes girls.”
+
+“Sue.”
+
+“Well! Don’t be so solemn.”
+
+“If I were to die and leave a little girl in the world as your mother
+left you, I would hope that some one would watch over her, and if the
+time came, through her own foolishness, or in the way of God’s
+discipline, for a disappointment to come to her, I would hope that this
+friend would love her as I love you to-night. She would warn her, advise
+her, and encourage her! Don’t go to visit Miss Gesner; she is selfish to
+ask you; you are bright and lively and she likes to have you to help
+entertain her friends—but you will not be so good a daughter to your
+father if your heart is drawn away from his home; the best home that he
+can afford to give you.”
+
+“There’s danger at home and danger abroad,” laughed Sue. “Don’t you wish
+that you could put me in a glass case?”
+
+“I don’t know what to do with you.”
+
+“Oh, something will happen to me before long. I’ll get married or die or
+something. I’m glad I had my things ready to go with the Townes, for now
+I have them ready to go to Miss Gesner’s. I wish I had a mother and my
+little brother hadn’t died. I’d like to have a _real_ home like yours! I
+wouldn’t mind if it were as plain as this; but I’d rather have it like
+Old Place. Won’t Nan Gerard have a lovely time? Such a long journey, and
+Mr. Ralph will be so attentive, and she’ll be so proud to be with such a
+handsome fellow! Don’t you like to be proud of people that belong to
+you? I am always proud enough to go out with Mr. Ralph.”
+
+“There is some one else to be proud of somewhere! Sue, can’t you be
+brave?”
+
+“Somebody will have what I want,” said Sue. “I can’t bear to think of
+that. I shall have to drive past Old Place in father’s chaise with one
+horse, and I hate to drive with one horse! and see somebody in _my_
+place in silks and velvets and diamonds and emeralds! And _she_ will
+have visitors from all over and Old Place will be full of good times and
+Mr. Ralph will let her do it all and be so kind to her! And she will be
+so proud and happy and handsome. Would _you_ like that? You know you
+wouldn’t. Do you think that I really must give him up?”
+
+Sue did not see the distressed face above her; she felt that the fingers
+that touched her hair and forehead were loving and pitiful.
+
+“Don’t talk so; don’t _think_ so! Forget all about Old Place. Do you not
+remember Mrs. Towne’s kindness? That is a happier thing to think of than
+the grounds and the house and handsome furniture.”
+
+“I wish I had told you about it before,” sobbed Sue. “You would have
+made it right for me; then I wouldn’t have thought and thought about it
+until it was _real_. And now I can’t believe that it isn’t true and the
+house is shut up with only Mr. and Mrs. Ryerson and the boy to look
+after things and Mr. Ralph gone not to come back—ever, perhaps. If Mrs.
+Towne should die, perhaps he won’t come back but go off and be a doctor;
+for he doesn’t want to be married, he said so; he told his mother so. I
+don’t want him to be a doctor and have bottles in all his pockets and
+smell of medicine like father and Dr. Lake. He wouldn’t be Mr. Ralph any
+more.”
+
+“So much the better for you.”
+
+“Then you don’t think that he’s so grand.”
+
+She answered quietly, surprising herself with the truth that she had not
+dared to confess to herself, “No. I do not think he is so grand.”
+
+“Who is?”
+
+“Who is? George Macdonald and George Eliot and Shakespeare and St. Paul
+and my father and your father,” laughed Tessa.
+
+“Hark. They are singing over the way.”
+
+“There’s a child’s party there to-night.”
+
+Tessa went to the window.
+
+Loud and merry were the voices:
+
+ “Little Sally Waters sitting in the sun,
+ Weeping and crying for a man.”
+
+Sue laughed. “Oh, how that carries me back.”
+
+“That’s good advice,” said Tessa, as the children shouted—
+
+ “Rise, Sally, rise, and wipe off your eyes.”
+
+“I wish that I were a little girl over there in the fun,” said Sue.
+“Suppose we go.”
+
+“I intended to go. Perhaps we can teach them some new games.”
+
+No one among the children was merrier than Sue; not one any more a
+child.
+
+“I think I’ll stay little,” said Sue, coming to Tessa, half out of
+breath. “I’m never going to grow up; it’s hateful being a woman, isn’t
+it?”
+
+“You will never know,” said Tessa laughing. “There’s little Harry
+Sherwood calling for Sue Greyson now.”
+
+Towards midnight, when Tessa was asleep, Sue awakened her with, “Put
+your arm around me, I can’t go to sleep.”
+
+Sue lay still not speaking or moving.
+
+The clock in the sitting-room struck three.
+
+“Tessa, Tessa,” whispered a startled voice, “are you awake?”
+
+“Yes,” rousing herself, “what is it? Is any thing the matter?”
+
+“Oh, no,” wearily, “but it has struck one, and two, and three, and I’m
+afraid it will strike four.”
+
+“I suppose it will unless the clock stops or time ceases to be.”
+
+“What will be when time ceases to be? What comes next?”
+
+“Forever comes next. Don’t you want it to be forever?”
+
+“You sha’n’t talk so and frighten me. I can’t go to sleep. I thought
+somebody was dying or dead.”
+
+“You were dreaming.” Tessa put a loving arm around her. “Didn’t you ever
+say the multiplication table in the night?”
+
+“No, nor any other time.”
+
+The moonlight shone in through the open window, making a golden track
+across the carpet.
+
+“The moon shines on Red Riding Hood,” said Sue. “Tell me a story,
+Tessa.”
+
+“Don’t you like the moonlight? Some one had a lovely little room once
+and she said that the moonlight came in and swept it clean of foolish
+thoughts.”
+
+“What else?” in an interested voice.
+
+“It is a long story; it is in blank verse, too, and you like rhymes.”
+
+“I’ve been trying to say Mother Goose and Old Mother Hubbard.”
+
+“I will tell you a story,” said Tessa, as wide awake as if the sun were
+shining. “I will rhyme it as I run along, and when I hesitate and can
+not make good sense and a perfect rhyme, we’ll go to sleep.”
+
+“Well, but you must do your best.”
+
+“I always do my best. I tell Gus and Dine stories in rhyme.”
+
+So she began with a description of a little girl who was fair and a boy
+who was brave, who grew up and grew together, but cruel fate in the
+shape of a step-mother separated them, and he travelled all over the
+world, and she stayed at home and made tatting, until a hundred years
+went by and he came to the door a worn-out traveller and found her a
+withered maiden sitting alone feeding her cat. Afterward in trying to
+recall this, she only remembered one couplet:
+
+ “He was covered with snow, his hat with fur,
+ He took it off and bowed to her.”
+
+Once or twice Sue gave a hysterical laugh.
+
+The story was brought to a proper and blissful conclusion; still Sue was
+sleepless.
+
+“How far on their journey do you suppose they are now?”
+
+“I’m not a time-table.”
+
+Sue lay too still to be asleep; when she _was_ still she was a marvel of
+stillness.
+
+Daylight and breakfast found her in high spirits, asking advice of Mrs.
+Wadsworth about making a wrapper out of an old brown cashmere, and
+talking to Tessa about the drive that she had promised to take with Dr.
+Lake, saying the last thing as she ran down the steps, “I’ll come and
+study German if I can’t find any thing better to do.”
+
+In all the talks afterward, Sue never alluded to this night; it was the
+only part of her life that she wished Tessa to forget; she herself
+forgot every thing except that she was miserable about Mr. Ralph and two
+of the lines in the story that she had laughed about and called as
+“stupid” as her own life:
+
+ “The room in which she lived alone, was carpeted with matting;
+ She spent the hours, she spent the days, in making yards of
+ tatting.”
+
+
+
+
+VI.—ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY.
+
+
+“Miss Jewett.”
+
+“Well, dear.”
+
+Tessa was sitting on the carpet in Miss Jewett’s little parlor with her
+head in Miss Jewett’s lap; Miss Jewett had been smoothing the girl’s
+hair for several minutes, neither speaking.
+
+“I have lost something; I don’t dare try to find it for fear that God
+has taken it away from me.”
+
+“How did you lose it?”
+
+Tessa raised her head, paused, then spoke impressively: “I lost it
+through _carefulness_.”
+
+“Ah! I have heard of such a thing before.”
+
+“Oh, have you? Is any one in the world like me? I thought that no one
+ever made such mistakes as I do, or needed the discipline that I need!”
+
+“My dear, all hearts are fashioned alike.”
+
+“But all lives are not alike.”
+
+“Not so different as you imagine; in my girls I live over my old
+struggles, longings, mistakes; in the history of lives lived ages ago I
+find the same struggles, longings, mistakes, the same need of the same
+discipline.”
+
+“Oh, if you can help me; if you can only help me! You study the Bible,
+isn’t every thing in the Bible? Didn’t Paul mean that every thing was in
+it when he said that through the comfort of the Scriptures we have hope?
+I can not find any thing to suit me; _you_ find something.”
+
+The gaslight was more than she could bear, she dropped her head again,
+covering her face with both hands.
+
+“Suppose you tell me all about it.”
+
+“_All about it_,” repeated Tessa in a muffled tone. “I could not if I
+wanted to; but I can tell you where the despair comes in.”
+
+“That is all I want to know.”
+
+“Well,” raising her head again and speaking clearly and slowly. “It was
+an opportunity to get something that I wanted. I thought I had it, I
+thought it was laid in my hand and I had but to clasp my fingers tightly
+over it to keep it forever and forever; I cared so much that I hardly
+cared for any thing else. I do not think that I would lose it again
+through caring too much. Do you think that it is just as hard for God to
+see us too careful as too careless?”
+
+“How were you too careful?”
+
+“Oh, in being wise and doing things in my own way. What I want to know
+is this: did He ever give any body another opportunity? If He ever did,
+I will hope that He will be just as tender towards me.”
+
+“Christ came down to earth to seek the lost; a lost opportunity is one
+of the things that He came to find. I think if you seek it for His sake,
+and not for your own, that He will find it for you.”
+
+“For His sake, not for mine,” repeated Tessa, wonderingly. “How can I
+ever attain to that? I am very selfish.”
+
+“Do you remember about David, whose heart was fashioned like yours, how
+careful he was once and what happened?”
+
+Miss Jewett was speaking in her brisk, working voice; the troubled face
+had become alight.
+
+“Now we will read about one who made a sorry mistake by being so careful
+that he forgot to find out God’s way of doing a certain thing. He did
+the thing that he wanted to do after a style of his own.”
+
+Tessa arose and went into Miss Jewett’s bedroom; she knew that the Bible
+she loved best, the one pencilled and interlined, was always kept on a
+stand near the head of her bed. While Miss Jewett was opening it, Tessa
+said hurriedly and earnestly “I knew that if it were anywhere in the
+Bible—that if any one in the world had suffered like me—that you would
+know where to find them. You said last Sunday that God had written
+something to help us in every perplexity; but I studied and studied and
+could not find any thing about second opportunities. Perhaps mine is
+only a foolish little trouble; not a grand one like David’s.”
+
+“Do you think that God likes to hear you say that?”
+
+“No,” confessed Tessa. “I will not even think it again.”
+
+“Have you forgotten how David attempted to bring the Ark into the city
+of David, and how he failed? What a mortifying and distressing failure
+it was, too. Now I’ll read it to you.”
+
+One of Tessa’s pleasures was to listen to her reading the Bible; she
+read as if David lived across the Park, and as if the city of David were
+not a mile away.
+
+Tessa kept her head in its old position and listened with intent and
+longing eyes.
+
+“‘And David consulted with the captains of thousands and hundreds and
+every leader. And David said unto all the congregation of Israel, If it
+seem good unto you, and that it be of the Lord our God, let us send
+abroad unto our brethren everywhere, that are left in all the land of
+Israel, and with them also to the priests and Levites which are in their
+cities and suburbs, that they may gather themselves together unto us:
+and let us bring again the Ark of our God to us: for we inquired not at
+it in the days of Saul. And all the congregation said that they would do
+so: for the thing was right in the eyes of all the people. So David
+gathered all Israel together from Shihor of Egypt even unto the entering
+of Hemath, to bring the Ark of God from Kirjath-jearim. And David went
+up and all Israel to Baalah, that is to Kirjath-jearim, which belonged
+to Judah, to bring up thence the Ark of God the Lord, that dwelleth
+between the cherubim whose name is called on it. And they carried the
+Ark of God in a new cart—’ In a _new_ cart, Tessa; see how careful he
+was!”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“‘—Out of the house of Abinadab; and Uzza and Ahir drave the cart.’ That
+was all right and proper, wasn’t it?”
+
+“It seems so to me.”
+
+“‘And David and all Israel played before God with all their might, and
+with singing, and with harps, and with timbrels, and with cymbals, and
+with trumpets.’ They were joyful with all their might. Were you as
+joyful as that?”
+
+“Yes: fully as joyful as that.”
+
+“Now see the confusion, the shame, and the fear that followed those
+harps and timbrels and trumpets. ‘And when they came unto the
+threshing-floor of Chidon, Uzza put forth his hand to hold the Ark; for
+the oxen stumbled. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzza,
+and He smote him, because he put his hand to the Ark: and he died before
+God. And David was displeased, because the Lord had made a breach upon
+Uzza: wherefore that place is called Perez-uzza, to this day. And David
+was afraid of God that day, saying, How shall I bring the Ark of God
+home to me?’”
+
+“I should think that he _would_ have been afraid,” said Tessa; “and
+after he had been so sure and joyful, too.”
+
+Miss Jewett read on: “‘So David brought not the Ark home to himself to
+the city of David, but carried it aside to the house of Obed-edom the
+Gittite.’”
+
+Tessa raised her head to speak. “I can not understand where his mistake
+was; how could he have been too careful of such a treasure. Oh, how
+terrible and humiliating his disappointment must have been! How ashamed
+he was before all the people! I can bear any thing better than to be
+humiliated.”
+
+“My poor, proud Tessa.”
+
+Tessa’s tears started at the tone; these first words of sympathy
+overcame her utterly; she dropped her head again and cried like a child,
+like the little child Tessa who had had so many fits of crying.
+
+The eyes above her were as wet as her own; once or twice warm lips
+touched her forehead and cheek.
+
+“Did _he_ have another opportunity?” asked Tessa, at last. “I can
+understand how afraid he was. I was troubled because I gave thanks for
+the thing that was taken away from me. Did he find an answer to his
+‘How’?”
+
+“He was thankful, sincere, and careful.”
+
+“I should think that was enough,” exclaimed Tessa, almost indignantly;
+“but I know that there was sin somewhere, else the anger of the Lord
+would not have been kindled. They went home without the Ark. That is
+saddest of all.”
+
+“It was kept three months in the house of Obed-edom, and during those
+three months humbled David studied the law and found that his cart, new
+as it was, was not according to the will of God.
+
+“‘Then David said, None ought to carry the Ark of God but the Levites;
+for them hath the Lord chosen to carry the Ark of God, and to minister
+unto Him forever.’”
+
+“And he _could_ have known that before,” cried Tessa.
+
+“‘And David gathered all Israel together to Jerusalem, to bring up the
+Ark of the Lord unto his place, which he had prepared for it, and David
+assembled the children of Aaron and the Levites and said unto them, Ye
+are the chief of the fathers of the Levites: sanctify yourselves, both
+ye and your brethren, that ye may bring up the Ark of the Lord God of
+Israel unto the place that I have prepared for it. For because ye did it
+not at the first, the Lord our God made a breach upon us, for that we
+sought Him not after the due order.”
+
+“Oh, how can we know every thing to do at the first?”
+
+“How could David have known? Now he had found the right way to do the
+right thing. ‘So the priests and the Levites sanctified themselves to
+bring up the Ark of the Lord God of Israel. And the children of the
+Levites bare the Ark of God upon their shoulders with the staves thereon
+as Moses commanded, according to the word of the Lord. And David spake
+to the chief of the Levites to appoint their brethren to be the singers
+with instruments of music, psalteries and harps and cymbals, sounding,
+by lifting up the voice with joy. So David, and the elders of Israel,
+and the captains over thousands, went to bring up the Ark of the
+covenant of the Lord out of the house of Obed-edom with joy.’”
+
+“He was not afraid now,” said Tessa. “I think that he was all the more
+joyful because he had been so humiliated and afraid. I will think about
+that new cart.”
+
+“And those three months in which he was finding out the will of God.
+‘And it came to pass, when God helped the Levites that bare the Ark of
+the covenant of the Lord that they offered seven bullocks and seven
+rams.’ He could not help them the first time because their way was not
+according to His law; their joy, their thankfulness, their sincerity,
+their carefulness availed them nothing because they kept not His law.
+Uzza was a priest and should have known the law; David was king and he
+should have known the law.”
+
+“But he had his second opportunity, despite his mistake.”
+
+“And so, if your desire be according to His will may you have yours; it
+may be months or years, half your lifetime, but if you study His word
+and ask for your second opportunity through the intercession of Christ,
+I am sure that you will have it.”
+
+“Sometimes I am angry, sometimes bewildered, sometimes there is hatred
+in my heart because I have been deceived and humiliated—sometimes I do
+not want it back—”
+
+“My dear,” said Miss Jewett, gravely, “discipline is better than our
+heart’s desire.”
+
+“Is it? I don’t like to think so.”
+
+When the clock in the church-tower struck midnight Tessa lay awake
+wondering if she could ever choose discipline before any heart’s desire.
+
+Then she crept closer to Miss Jewett and kissed her.
+
+
+
+
+VII.—THE LONG DAY.
+
+
+With the apple blossoms came Tessa’s birthday. She had lived twenty-five
+years up-stairs and down-stairs in that white house with the lilac
+shrubbery and low iron fence. Twenty-five years with her father and
+mother, nineteen with her little sister, and almost as many with her old
+friend, Mr. Hammerton; twenty years with Laura and Felix and Miss
+Jewett, and not quite three years with the latest friend, the latest and
+the one that she had most believed in, Ralph Towne.
+
+She was counting these years and these friends as she brushed out her
+long, light hair and looked into the reflection of the fair, bright,
+thoughtful face that had come to another birthday.
+
+Nothing would ever happen to her again, she was sure; nothing ever did
+happen after one were as old as twenty-five. In novels, all the
+wonderful events occurred in earlier life, and then—a blank or bliss or
+misery, any thing that the reader might guess.
+
+Would her life henceforth be a blank because she was so old and was
+growing older?
+
+In one of her stories, Miss Mulock had stated that the experience of
+love had been given to her heroine “later than to most” and _she_ was
+twenty-four!
+
+“Not that that experience is all one’s life,” she mused; “but it is just
+as much to me as it is to any man or woman that ever lived; as much as
+to Cornelia, the matron with her jewels, or Vittoria Colonna, or Mrs.
+Browning, or Hypatia,—if she ever loved any body,—or Miss Jewett,—if she
+ever did,—or Sue Greyson, or Queen Victoria, or Ralph Towne’s mother! I
+wonder if his father were like him, so handsome and gentle. I have a
+right to the pain and the blessedness of loving; perhaps I _have_ been
+in love—perhaps I am now! He shut the door that he had opened and he has
+gone out; I would not recall him if I could do it with one breath—
+
+ “‘No harm from him can come to me
+ On ocean or on shore.’
+
+“Well,” smiling into the sympathetic eyes, “if nothing new ever happen
+to me, I’ll find out all the blessedness of the old.”
+
+For she must always find something to be glad of before she could be
+sorrowful about any thing.
+
+She ran down-stairs in her airiest mood to be congratulated by her
+father in a humorous speech that ended with an unfinished sentence and a
+quick turning of the head, to be squeezed and hugged and kissed by
+Dinah, and dubbed Miss Twenty-Five, and then to have her mood changed,
+all in the past made dreary, and all in the future desolate, by one of
+her mother’s harangues.
+
+Mr. Wadsworth had kissed his three girls and hurried off to his
+business, as he had done in all the years that Tessa could remember;
+Dinah had pushed her plate away and was leaning forward with her elbows
+on the table-cloth, her face alight with the mischief of teasing Tessa
+about being “stricken in years.” Tessa’s repartees were sending Dinah
+off into her little shouts of laughter when their mother’s voice broke
+in:
+
+“I had been married eight years when I was your age, Tessa.”
+
+“It will be nine years on my next birthday,” said Tessa.
+
+“Yes, just nine; for I was married on my seventeenth birthday; your
+father met me one day coming from school and said that he would call
+that evening; I curled my hair over and put on my garnet merino and
+waited for him an hour. I expected John Gesner, too. But your father
+came first and we set the wedding-day that night. I was seventeen and he
+was thirty-seven!”
+
+“I congratulate you,” said Tessa. “I congratulate the woman who married
+my father.”
+
+“Girls are so different,” sighed Mrs. Wadsworth. “Now _I_ had two offers
+that year! Aunt Theresa wanted me to take John Gesner because he was two
+years younger than your father; but John was only a clerk in the Iron
+Works then, and so was Lewis. Lewis is just my age. How could I tell
+that he would make a fortune buying nails?”
+
+“You would have hit the nail on the head if you had known it,” laughed
+Dinah.
+
+“And here’s Dine, now, _she_ is like me. You are a Wadsworth through and
+through! Young men like some life about a girl; how many beaux Sue
+Greyson has! All you think of is education! There was Cliff Manning, you
+turned the cold shoulder to him because he couldn’t talk grammar. What’s
+grammar? Grammar won’t make the pot boil.”
+
+“Enough of them would,” suggested Dinah.
+
+“Mr. Towne came and came till he was tired, I suppose. I hope you didn’t
+refuse him.”
+
+“No, he refused me.”
+
+Her tone was so gravely in earnest that her mother was staggered. Dinah
+shouted.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth went on in a voice that was gathering indignation: “You
+may laugh now; you will not always laugh. ‘He that will not when he may,
+when he will he shall have nay.’ Mrs. Sherwood told me yesterday that
+she hoped to have Nan Gerard back here for good, and Mary looked as if
+it were all settled. Mr. Towne did not do much _last_ winter, Mary said,
+beside run around with Naughty Nan. I’m hearing all the time of somebody
+being married or engaged, and you are doing nothing but shilly-shally
+over some book or trotting around after poor folks with Miss Jewett.”
+
+“She will find a prince in a hovel some day,” said Dinah. “He will be
+struck with her attitude as she is choking some bed-ridden woman with
+beef-tea and fall down on his knees and propose on the spot. ‘Feed me,
+seraph,’ he will cry.”
+
+“He wouldn’t talk grammar, or he couldn’t spell or read Greek, and she
+will turn away,” laughed Mrs. Wadsworth. “Tessa, you are none of my
+bringing up.”
+
+“That is true,” replied Tessa, the sorrowfulness of the tone softening
+its curtness.
+
+“You always _did_ care for something in a book more than for what I
+said! You never do any thing to please people; and yet, somehow,
+somebody always _is_ running after you. I wish that you _could_ go out
+into the world and get a little character; you are no more capable of
+self-denial and heroism than an infant baby; for getting along in the
+world and making a good match, I would rather have Sue Greyson’s skin—”
+
+“Her father understands anatomy, perhaps you can get it, mother.”
+
+“_She_ knows how to look out for number one. Her children will be
+settled in life before Tessa is engaged. You needn’t laugh, Dine, it’s
+her birthday, and I’m only doing a mother’s duty to her.”
+
+Tessa’s eyes laughed although her lips were still. Her sense of humor
+helped her to bear many things in her life.
+
+“You have never had a trial in your life, Tessa, and here you are old
+enough to be a wife and mother!”
+
+“If she lived in China she could be a grandmother,” said Dinah.
+
+“I have always kept trouble from you; that is why, at your mature age,
+you have so little character. In an emergency you would have no more
+responsibility than Nellie Bird. If you had studied arithmetic instead
+of always writing poetry and compositions, you might have been teaching
+now and have been independent.”
+
+“Father isn’t tired of taking care of her,” said Dinah, spiritedly.
+“It’s mean for you to say that.”
+
+“Why don’t you write a novel and make some money?”
+
+“I don’t know how.”
+
+“Can’t you learn?”
+
+“I study all the time.”
+
+“Why don’t you write flowery language?”
+
+“I don’t know how.”
+
+“It is Gus that has spoiled you; he has nipped your genius in the bud.
+What does he know, a clerk in a bank? I know that he tells you to leave
+out the long words; and it is the long words that take. I shouldn’t have
+had my dreadful cough winter after winter if I hadn’t worked hard to
+spare your time that winter you wrote those three little books for the
+Sunday School Union; I lay all my sickness and pain to that winter.”
+
+Mrs Wadsworth had brought this charge against Tessa several times
+before, but she had never shivered over it as she did this birthday
+morning.
+
+“And what did you get for them? Only a hundred dollars for the three.
+Your father made a great fuss over them, and he really cried (his tears
+come very easy) over that piece you called ‘Making Mistakes.’ I couldn’t
+see any thing to cry over; I thought you made out that making mistakes
+was a very fine thing.”
+
+“Four people from away off have written to thank her, any way,” exulted
+Dinah.
+
+“People like your father I suppose.”
+
+Dinah sprang up and began to rattle the cups and saucers; she could not
+bear the look in Tessa’s eyes another second.
+
+“Dinah, I can’t talk if you make so much noise. You are very rude.”
+
+“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” cried Dinah, standing still with two cups in
+her hands. “It’s great fun! Nan Gerard refused Mr. John Gesner while she
+was here.”
+
+“I don’t believe it,” exclaimed Mrs Wadsworth. “Those brothers are worth
+nearly a million.”
+
+“Naughty Nan didn’t care.”
+
+“She’ll jump out of the frying-pan into the fire, then; for the Townes,
+mother and son, are not worth a quarter of it.”
+
+“What does she care? Mr. Lewis Gesner is a gentleman, and he knows
+something.”
+
+“He said once that I was only a little doll,” said Mrs. Wadsworth. “I
+never liked him afterward.”
+
+“I like him,” said Dinah; “he doesn’t flirt with the girls; he always
+talks to the old ladies.”
+
+“What are you going to do to-day, Tessa?” inquired Mrs. Wadsworth,
+ignoring Dinah’s remark.
+
+“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered, “and don’t care” was the unspoken
+addition.
+
+There was one thing she was sure to do. On her way to the ten o’clock
+mail she would take a moment with Miss Jewett for a word, a look; for
+something to set her heart to beating to a cheerier tune. Ten minutes
+before mail time she found Miss Jewett as busy as a bee.
+
+“Oh, Tessa,” glancing up from her desk, “I knew you would come. I had a
+good crying spell on my twenty-fifth birthday and I’ve looked through
+clear eyes ever since. I wish for you that your second quarter may be as
+full of hard work as mine.”
+
+Tessa felt as if the sun were shining warm again. At the office she
+received her birthday present; the one thing that she most wished for;
+if ever birthday face were in a glow and birthday heart set to dancing,
+hers were when her fingers held the check for one hundred and
+sixty-eight dollars and fifty cents, and when her eyes ran through the
+brief, friendly letter, with its two lines of praise.
+
+“I am taken with your book. It gives me a humbling-down feeling. I
+hardly know why.”
+
+“Oh, it’s too good! it’s too good,” she cried, with her head close to
+Miss Jewett’s at the desk over the large day-book. “I was feeling as if
+nobody cared, and now he wants another book. As good as this, he says.”
+
+Tessa lived in fairy-land for the next two hours. No, she lived in
+Dunellen on a happy birthday.
+
+“Well! well! well!” exclaimed her father, taking off his spectacles to
+wipe his eyes, “this is what I call fine. So this is what you grew pale
+over last winter,” he added, looking down into a face as rosy and wide
+awake as a child’s waking out of sleep.
+
+“What shall you do with so much money?”
+
+“Spend it, of course. I have spent it already a hundred times.”
+
+“You must return receipt and reply to the letter.”
+
+“I had forgotten that.”
+
+“You will find every thing on my desk. Write your name on the back of
+the check and I will give you the money.”
+
+“I don’t want to do that. I want to take it into the bank and surprise
+Gus with it. His face will be worth another check.”
+
+She wrote her name upon the check, her father standing beside her.
+Theresa L. Wadsworth. He was very proud of this name among his three
+girls.
+
+“And you expect to do this thing again?”
+
+“I do. Many times. All I want is a nook and a lead pencil.”
+
+“Daughter, I would like something else better.”
+
+“I wouldn’t. Nothing else. I shall not change my mind even for a knight
+in helmet and helmet feather.”
+
+Mr. Hammerton’s face _was_ worth another check; he looked down at her
+from his high stool in a grave, paternal fashion. She remained
+decorously silent.
+
+“How women _do_ like to spend money,” he said. “At six o’clock you will
+not have a penny left.”
+
+“How can I? Father is to have a farm in Mayfield, mother is to go to
+Europe, and Dine is to have diamond ear-rings!”
+
+“And I?”
+
+“I will buy you a month to go fishing! And myself brains enough to write
+a better book. Isn’t it comical for me to get more for my book than
+Milton got for Paradise Lost?”
+
+Tessa laughed as she counted her money at tea-time; there was a twenty
+dollar bill and seventy-five cents! But in her mother’s chamber stood a
+suite of black-walnut with marble tops, in one of Dine’s drawers,
+materials for a black and white striped silk, on the sitting-room table
+a copy of Shakespeare in three Turkey morocco volumes, for her father;
+she had also sent a gold thimble to Sue Greyson, several volumes of
+Ruskin to Mr. Hammerton, Barnes on _Job_ to Miss Jewett, and had
+purchased a ream of foolscap, a pint of ink, a pair of gloves, and _The
+Scarlet Letter_ for herself!
+
+“Is there any thing left in the world that you want?” her father asked.
+
+“Yes, but twenty dollars will not buy it,” she replied, thinking of Dr.
+Lake’s anxious face as she had seen it that day.
+
+At night, alone in the darkness, there were a few tears that no one
+would ever know about. Her joy in her accepted work was nothing to Ralph
+Towne. He did not know about her book and if he knew—would he care?
+
+
+
+
+VIII.—A NOTE OUT OF TUNE.
+
+
+The blossom storm came and blew away the apple blossoms, the heavy
+fragrance of the lilacs died, and the shrubbery became again only a mass
+of green leaves and ugly, crooked stems; but amid this, something
+happened to Tessa; something that was worth as much to her as any
+happenings that came before it; something that had its beginning when
+she was a little school-girl running along the planks and teasing Felix
+Harrison. How much certain jarring words spoken that day and how much a
+certain bit of news influenced this happening, she, in her rigid
+self-analysis, could not determine!
+
+She arose from the breakfast table at the same instant with her father,
+saying: “Father, I will walk to the corner with you.”
+
+“We were two souls with one thought,” he replied. “I intended to ask you
+for a few minutes.”
+
+They crossed the street to the planks. She slipped her arm through his,
+and as he took the fingers on his arm with a warm grasp, she said; “I
+never want any lover but you, my dear old father.”
+
+“Nonsense, child! Only girls who have had a heart-break say such things
+to their old fathers, and your heart is as good as new, I am sure.
+Tessa, I want to see you married before I die.”
+
+“May you live till you see me married,” she answered merrily. “What an
+old mummy you will be!”
+
+“I have been thinking of something that I want to say to you. I am an
+old man and I am not young for my age—”
+
+“Now, father.”
+
+“I may live a hundred years, of course, and grow heartier each year, and
+like the ‘frisky old girl,’ die at the age of one hundred and ten, and
+‘die by a fall from a cherry-tree then,’ but, still there’s a chance
+that I may not. And now, Daughter Tessa”—his voice became as grave as
+her eyes, “I want you to promise me that you will always take care of
+your poor little mother; poor little mother! You are never sharp to her
+like saucy Dine, and she rests in you like an acorn in an acorn cup,
+although she would be the last to confess it.”
+
+“I promise to do my best,” Tessa said very earnestly.
+
+“But that is only a part of it. Promise me that if she wishes to marry
+again, and her choice be one that _you_ approve—”
+
+“Approve!”
+
+“Approve,” he repeated, “that you will not hinder but rather further it,
+and keep Dine from making her unhappy about it.”
+
+“I will not promise. You shall not die,” she cried passionately. “How
+can you talk so and break my heart?”
+
+“Dr. Watts says that we all begin to die as soon as we are born, so I
+have had to do it pretty thoroughly; but he was a theologian and not a
+medical man. Have you promised?”
+
+“Yes, sir,” speaking very quietly, “I have promised.”
+
+With her hand upon his arm, they kept even step for ten silent minutes.
+
+“Are you writing again?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Then you must walk every day.”
+
+“Oh, I do, rain or shine. I am going down the road this afternoon to
+look at the wheat fields and the oat fields and to see the boys and
+girls dropping corn!”
+
+“And to wish that you were a little girl dropping corn?”
+
+“No, indeed,” she said earnestly and solemnly. “I like my own life
+better than any life I ever knew in a book or out of a book.”
+
+“When I count up my mercies I’ll remember that.”
+
+She was dwelling upon those words of her father late that afternoon as
+she sauntered homeward with her hands full of wild flowers and grasses.
+
+“Mystic, will you ride with me?”
+
+A feeling of warmth and of tenderness ever crept into her heart at the
+sound of this voice.
+
+She loved Dr. Lake.
+
+“No, sir, thank you; I am out for a walk and when I walk I never ride.”
+
+“But I want to talk to you—to tell you something.” She stepped nearer
+and stood at the carriage wheel; his voice was sharp and his white
+temples hollow. “Sue has refused me,” he began with a laugh. “I proposed
+last night, and what do you think she said? ‘Why, Dr. Lake, you are
+poor, and you smell of medicine.’”
+
+“They are both true,” she said, not conscious of what reply she was
+making.
+
+“Yes,” he answered bitterly, “they are both true and will _be_ true
+until the end of time. Don’t you think that you could reason with her
+and change her mind; you have influence.” He laid his gloved hand on the
+hand that rested on the wheel. “It will kill me, Mystic, if she doesn’t
+marry me.”
+
+So weak, so pitiful! She could have cried. And all for love of flighty
+Sue Greyson!
+
+“I was sure that she would accept me. She has done every thing _but_
+accept me. I did not know that a woman would permit a man to take her
+day after day into his arms and kiss her unless she intended to marry
+him. Would _you_ permit that?” he asked.
+
+“You know that I would not,” she answered proudly; “but Sue doesn’t know
+any better; all she cares for is the ‘fun’ of the moment.”
+
+“I have been hoping so long; since Towne went away; I can’t bear this.”
+
+“There is as much strength for you as for any of us,” she said gently.
+
+“But I am too weak to hold it.”
+
+And he looked too weak to hold it. She could not lift her full eyes. “I
+am so sorry,” was all she could speak.
+
+“There isn’t any thing worth living for anyway; I, for one, am not
+thankful for my ‘creation.’ I wish I was dead and buried and out of
+sight forever. Sue Greyson has another offer to whisper to all Dunellen.
+I would not stay here, I would go back to that wretched hospital, but my
+engagement with her father extends through another year. Well, you won’t
+ride home with me?”
+
+“Not to-day, I want to be out in this air.”
+
+“And you don’t want to be shut in here with my growling. I don’t blame
+you; I’d run away from myself if I could. I’ll kill half Dunellen and
+all Mayfield with overdoses before another night, and then take a big
+dose myself. Say, Mystic, you are posted in these things, where would be
+the harm?”
+
+“Take it and see.”
+
+“Not yet awhile. I am not sure of many things, but I _am_ sure that a
+man’s life in this world will stare in his face in the next. And my life
+has not been fit even for your eyes.”
+
+Homely, shabby, old, worn, excited, with a sharp ring in his voice and a
+stoop in his shoulders. What was there in him to touch Sue Greyson?
+Where was the first point of sympathy?
+
+Tessa could have taken him into her arms and cared for him as she would
+have cared for a child.
+
+“I have just seen an old man die; a good old man; he was over ninety; he
+prayed to the last; that is his lips moved and his old wife laid his
+hands together; he liked to clasp his hands when he prayed, she said.
+She put her ear down close to his mouth, but she could not distinguish
+the words. I was wishing that I could go in his place, and that he could
+take up my life and live it through for me. He would do better with it
+than I shall.”
+
+“Is not that rather selfish?”
+
+“Life is such a sham. I don’t believe in the transmigration of souls; I
+don’t want to come back and pull through another miserable existence.”
+
+“I want you to stay this soul in this body; I do not want to lose you.”
+
+“If every woman in the world were like you—”
+
+“And every man were as tired and hungry as you—”
+
+“What would he do?”
+
+“He would hurry home to a good, hot dinner.”
+
+“I have not eaten or drank since yesterday morning. Sue has a hot dinner
+waiting for me. She will sit with me while I eat, and tell me, perhaps,
+that she has had a letter from that fellow in Philadelphia, or that that
+well-preserved specimen of manhood, old John Gesner, has asked her to
+drive with him. Some flirtation of hers is sauce to every dish.”
+
+“Poor Sue,” sighed Tessa.
+
+“She might be happy if she would; I would take care of her.”
+
+“Good-by,” squeezing his fingers through his glove. “Go home and eat.”
+
+“Give me a good word before I go.”
+
+“Wait.”
+
+“Is that the best word you know?”
+
+“It is good enough.”
+
+“Well, good day, Mystic,” he said, lifting his hat.
+
+She went back to the grassy wayside, thinking. What right had Sue
+Greyson’s light fingers to meddle with a life like Dr. Lake’s? They had
+not one taste in common. How could he find her attractive? She disliked
+every thing in which he was interested; it was true that she could sing,
+sing like one of the wild birds down in the woods, and he loved music.
+
+She paused and stood leaning against the rails of a fence, and looked
+across the green acres of winter wheat; one day in September she had
+stood there watching the men as they were drilling the wheat; afterward
+she had seen the tender, green blades springing up in straight rows, and
+once she had seen the whole field green beneath a light snow. The wind
+moved her veil slightly, both hands were drooping as her elbows leaned
+upon the upper rail, her cheeks were tinged with the excitement of Dr.
+Lake’s words, and her eyes suffused with a mist that was too sorrowful
+to drop with tears. A quick step on the grass at her side did not
+startle her; she did not stir until a voice propounded gravely: “If a
+man should be born with two heads, on which forehead must he wear the
+phylactery?”
+
+She turned with a laugh. “Gus, I would know that was you if I heard the
+voice and the question in the Great Desert.”
+
+“Can’t you decide?”
+
+“My thoughts were not nonsense.”
+
+“Of course not, you were labelling and pigeon holing all that you have
+thought of since sunrise! I’ve been sitting on a stone waiting for your
+conference to end. Are you in the habit of meeting strange men and
+conversing with them.”
+
+“Yes, I came out to meet you.”
+
+“I only wish you did! I wish that you would make a stranger of me and be
+polite to me. It is nothing new for you to be wandering on a Saturday
+afternoon, and nothing new for you to find me.”
+
+“I didn’t find you.”
+
+“I intended to give you the honor of the discovery; now we will share
+the glory. Shall we go on?”
+
+“I have been to my roots; do you know my roots? Do you know the corner
+above Old Place and the tiny stream?”
+
+“I know every corner, and every root, and every stream. Shall I carry
+your flowers for you? I never can see why I should relieve a maiden of a
+burden when her avoirdupois equals mine. You will not give them to me? I
+have something to read to you—something of my own composing—I composed
+it in one brilliant wakeful moment—you will appreciate it.”
+
+“I do not believe it.”
+
+“Wait until you hear it. Lady Blue, are you going to be literary and
+never be married! Woe to the day when I taught you all you know.”
+
+They went on, slowly, for she liked to talk to Mr. Hammerton. “Father
+said something like that this morning and it troubled me; why may I not
+do as I like best? Why should he care to see me married before he dies?”
+
+“Why should he not?”
+
+“Nonsense. I can take good care of myself; beside,” with a mischievous
+glance into his serious eyes, “I really don’t know whom to marry.”
+
+“Oh, you could easily find some one. If all else fail, come to me, and
+if I am not too busy I will take you into consideration.”
+
+“Thanks, good friend! But you will always be too busy. What have you to
+read to me?”
+
+“Something that you will appreciate. I wrote it for you. Stay, sit down,
+while I read it.”
+
+“I don’t want to. You can read and walk. The mother of Mrs. Hemans could
+read aloud while walking up hill.”
+
+Mr. Hammerton’s voice was not pleasant to a stranger, but Tessa liked it
+because it belonged to him; it was a part of him like his big nose, his
+spectacles, and the tiny bald spot over which, every day, he carefully
+brushed his hair. The color in his cheeks was as pretty as a girl’s, and
+so was the delicate whiteness of his forehead; the bushy mustache,
+however, made amends for the complexion that he sometimes regretted;
+Tessa had once told him that his big nose, his mustache, and his
+awkwardness were all that kept him from being as pretty as his sister.
+
+“I am not the mother of Mrs. Hemans.” He took a sheet of paper from his
+pocket-book, and showed her the poem written in his peculiarly plain,
+upright hand.
+
+“Excuse my singing and I will read. You must not think of any thing
+else.”
+
+“I will not.”
+
+“You are walking too fast.”
+
+She obediently took slower steps.
+
+He cleared his throat and, holding the paper near his eyes, began to
+read. A shadow gathered in his listener’s eyes at the first four lines.
+
+ “A nightingale made a mistake;
+ She sang a few notes out of tune,
+ Her heart was ready to break,
+ And she hid from the moon.
+
+ “She wrung her claws, poor thing,
+ But was far too proud to speak;
+ She tucked her head under her wing,
+ And pretended to be asleep.
+
+ “A lark arm in arm with a thrush,
+ Came sauntering up to the place;
+ The nightingale felt herself blush,
+ Though feathers hid her face.
+
+ “She knew they had heard her song,
+ She felt them snicker and sneer.
+ She thought this life was too long,
+ And wished she could skip a year.
+
+ “‘O, nightingale!’ cooed a dove,
+ O, nightingale, what’s the use;
+ You bird of beauty and love,
+ Why behave like a goose?
+
+ “‘Don’t skulk away from our sight,
+ Like a common, contemptible fowl;
+ You bird of joy and delight,
+ Why behave like an owl?
+
+ “‘Only think of all you have done;
+ Only think of all you can do;
+ A false note is really fun
+ From such a bird as you.
+
+ “‘Lift up your proud little crest:
+ Open your musical beak;
+ Other birds have to do their best,
+ You need only to speak.’
+
+ “The nightingale shyly took
+ Her head from under her wing,
+ And giving the dove a look,
+ Straightway began to sing.
+
+ “There was never a bird could pass;
+ The night was divinely calm;
+ And the people stood on the grass,
+ To hear that wonderful psalm!
+
+ “The nightingale did not care,
+ She only sang to the skies;
+ Her song ascended there,
+ And there she fixed her eyes.
+
+ “The people that stood below
+ She knew but little about;
+ And this story’s a moral, I know,
+ If you’ll try to find it out.”
+
+“How did you know that I need that?” she asked, taking it from his hand.
+“Who wrote it?”
+
+“I did.”
+
+“Don’t you know?”
+
+“No. I don’t know. I copied it for you.”
+
+“Thank you. I thank you very much. You could not have brought me any
+thing better.”
+
+“I brought you a piece of news, too.”
+
+“As good as the poem?”
+
+“Nan Gerard thinks so. She is to be married and to live at Old Place;
+our castle in the air.”
+
+“Old Place isn’t my castle in the air. Who told you?”
+
+“A woman’s question. I never told a woman a secret yet that she did not
+reply, ‘Who told you?’ Mary Sherwood told me, of course. Do you
+congratulate Naughty Nan?”
+
+“Must I?”
+
+“It’s queer that I do not know that man. I have missed an introduction a
+thousand times. Do you congratulate her?”
+
+“I am supposed to congratulate _him_. He is very lovable.”
+
+“I thought that only women were that.”
+
+“That’s an admission,” laughed Tessa, “you cross old bachelor.”
+
+“You learned that from Dine.”
+
+“No, I learned it from you.”
+
+Tessa talked rapidly and lightly, perhaps, because she did not feel like
+talking at all.
+
+Would he marry Nan Gerard? Why could she not be glad for Nan Gerard? Why
+must she be just a little sorry for herself? Why must it make a
+difference to her? Why must the weight of the flowers be too heavy for
+her hand, and why must she give them that toss over a fence across a
+field?
+
+“Your pretty flowers,” expostulated Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“I do not care for them; they were withering.”
+
+“I have a thought; I wonder why it should come to me; I am wondering if
+you and I walk together here a year from to-day what we shall be talking
+about. My prophetic soul reveals to me that a year makes a difference
+sometimes.”
+
+“I remember a year ago to-day,” she answered. “A year _has_ made a
+difference.”
+
+“Not to you or me?”
+
+“To Nan Gerard?” she answered seriously.
+
+“But that does not affect us.”
+
+Did it not? A year ago to-day Ralph Towne had brought her some English
+violets, and she had pressed them and thrown a thought about him and
+about them into a poem. To-day had he taken violets to Nan Gerard?
+
+“Lady Blue; you are absent-minded.”
+
+“Am I? I was only labelling and pigeon-holing a thought; it is to be
+laid away to moulder with the dust of ages.”
+
+“A thought that can not be spoken?”
+
+“A thought that it was folly to think, and that would be worse than
+folly to speak.”
+
+If he replied she did not hear; they sauntered on, she keeping the path
+and he walking on the grass.
+
+A carriage passed, driving slowly. The two ladies within watched the
+pedestrians,—a fair-faced girl with thoughtful eyes, and a tall man with
+an intellectual face,—as if they were a part of the landscape of the
+spring.
+
+ “‘In the spring a young man’s fancy—’”
+
+laughingly quoted one of them.
+
+“Will she accept or refuse him?” asked the other.
+
+“If she do either it will be once and forever,” was the reply seriously
+given. “Did you notice her mouth? She has been very much troubled, but
+she can be made very glad.”
+
+After the carriage had passed, Mr. Hammerton spoke, “I am glad we amused
+those people; they failed to decide whether or not we are lovers.”
+
+“They have very little penetration, then,” said Tessa. “I am too languid
+and you are too unconscious.”
+
+“There is nothing further to be said; you do not know what you have
+nipped in the bud.”
+
+“I suppose we never know that.”
+
+Dinah met them at the gate, her wind-blown curls and laughing eyes in
+striking contrast to the older face that had lost all its color. Tessa
+did not see that Mr. Hammerton’s eyes were studying the change in her
+face; she had no more care of the changes in her face with him than with
+Dinah.
+
+“I’ll be in about eight,” he said to Dinah, as Tessa brushed past him to
+enter the gate.
+
+Another thing that influenced impressible Tessa this day, was a talk at
+the tea-table. They were sitting around the tea-table cozily, the four
+people who, in her mother’s thought, constituted all Tessa’s world. Mr.
+Wadsworth in an easy position in his arm-chair was listening to his
+three girls and deciding that his little wife was really the handsomest
+and sprightliest woman that he had ever seen, that happy little Dine was
+as bewitching as she could well be, and that Tessa, the light of his
+eyes, was like no one else in all the world. Not that any stranger
+sitting in his arm-chair would have looked through his eyes, but he was
+an old man, disappointed in his life, and his three girls were all of
+earth and a part of heaven to him. They were all talking and he was
+satisfied to listen. “I believe that some girls are born without a
+mother’s heart,” Mrs. Wadsworth said in reply to a story of Dine’s about
+a young mother in Dunellen who had slapped her baby, saying that she
+hated it and was nothing but a slave to it! “Now, here’s Tessa. _She_
+has no motherliness. Only this morning Freddie Stone fell down near the
+gate and hurt his head; his screams were terrifying, but she went on
+working and let him scream. As I said it is all as girls are born.”
+
+“Yes,” answered Tessa, in the deliberate way in which she had schooled
+herself to reply to her mother, “I know that your last assertion is
+true. There was a lady in school, a teacher of mathematics, she
+acknowledged that she did not love her own little girls as other mothers
+seemed to do. She stated it as she would have stated any fact in
+geometry; perhaps she thought that she was no more responsible for one
+than for the other. The mere fact of motherhood does not bring mother
+love within; any mother that does not give to her child a true idea of
+the mother-heart of God fails utterly in being a mother. She may be a
+nurse, a paid nurse, or a nurse upon compulsion; any hired nurse can
+wash a child’s face, can tie its sash and make pretty things for it to
+wear, and _any_ nurse, who was never mother to a child, can teach it
+what God means when He says, ‘as a mother comforteth.’ Miss Jewett could
+not be happier in her Bible class girls if they were all her own
+children; she says so herself. Mary Sherwood said to her one day, ‘If my
+mother were like you, how different I should have been!’”
+
+“Such a case is an exception,” returned Mrs. Wadsworth excitedly.
+
+“Nineteen out of her twenty-three girls tell her their troubles when
+they would not tell their own mothers,” said Dinah. “She has
+twenty-three secret drawers to keep their secrets in.”
+
+“She has time to listen to fol-de-rol. She advises them all to marry for
+some silly notion and let a good home slip, I’ve no doubt.”
+
+“I expect that twenty-one of her girls have refused John Gesner,”
+laughed Mr. Wadsworth. “He will have to bribe Miss Jewett to let them
+alone.”
+
+“Only twenty, father,” said Dine. “Tessa and Sue and I are waiting to do
+it.”
+
+“I will make this house too uncomfortable for the one of you that does
+refuse him.”
+
+“Mother! mother!” remonstrated Mr. Wadsworth gently.
+
+“He’ll never have the honor,” said Dine. “Mr. Lewis Gesner is the
+gentleman; I have always admired him. Haven’t you, Tessa?”
+
+“Yes; I like to shake hands with him; he has a trustworthy face.”
+
+“So much for the mothers of Dunellen, Tessa; how about the fathers?
+Would the girls like to have Miss Jewett for a father, too?”
+
+“Oh, the fathers have the bread-winning to do. If the mothers do not
+understand, we can not expect the fathers to understand. There was a
+girl at school who had had a hard home experience; she told me that she
+never repeated the second word of the Lord’s prayer; that she said
+instead: Our Lord, who art in heaven?”
+
+“Oh, deary me! How dreadful!” cried Dinah, moving nearer the arm-chair
+and dropping her head on her father’s shoulder. “Didn’t she _ever_ learn
+to say it?”
+
+“Not while we were at school.”
+
+“Tessa, you can talk,” said her mother.
+
+“Yes,” said Tessa, humbly, “I can talk.”
+
+“She was a very wicked girl,” continued Mrs. Wadsworth. “I don’t see how
+she dared; I should think that she would have been afraid of dying in
+her sleep as a judgment sent upon her.”
+
+“Perhaps she did not repeat the prayer as a charm,” answered Tessa, in
+her clearest tones.
+
+Dinah lifted her head to laugh.
+
+“You upheld her, no doubt,” declared Mrs. Wadsworth.
+
+“I sympathized with her as they who never had a pain can feel for the
+sick,” said Tessa, smiling into her father’s eyes.
+
+“How did you talk to her?” asked Dine.
+
+“What is talk? I only told her to wait and she would know.”
+
+“It’s easy to talk,” said Mrs. Wadsworth uncomfortably. “You can talk an
+hour about sympathy, but you didn’t run out to Freddie Stone.”
+
+“Why didn’t you?” inquired her father seriously.
+
+Tessa laughed, while Dine answered.
+
+“Mother was there talking as fast as she could talk, Bridget was there
+with a basin of water and a sponge, Mrs. Bird had run over, a carriage
+with two ladies, a coachman and a footman had stopped to look on, and
+oh, I was there too. He was somewhat bloody.”
+
+“You are excused, daughter. Save your energies for a time of greater
+need.”
+
+“Energies! Need!” tartly exclaimed Mrs. Wadsworth. “If she begins to be
+literary, she will care for nothing else.”
+
+“I see no evidence of a lessening interest yet,” replied her father.
+
+“Oh, I might know that you would encourage her. She might as well have
+the small-pox as far as her prospects go! A needle is a woman’s weapon.”
+
+“You forget her tongue, mother,” suggested Dine. “Oh, Tessa, what is
+that about a needle; Mrs. Browning says it.”
+
+Tessa repeated:
+
+ “‘A woman takes a housewife from her breast,
+ And plucks the delicatest needle out
+ As ’twere a rose, and pricks you carefully
+ ’Neath nails, ’neath eyelids, in your nostrils,—say,
+ A beast would roar so tortured—but a man,
+ A human creature, must not, shall not flinch,
+ No, not for shame.’”
+
+“Some woman wrote that when she’d have done better to be sewing for her
+husband, I’ll warrant,” commented Mrs. Wadsworth. Mr. Wadsworth looked
+grave.
+
+“Oh she had a literary husband,” replied Tessa, mischievously. “A word
+that rhymed with supper would do instead of bread and butter; and he
+cared more for one of her poems than he did for his buttons.”
+
+“Literary men don’t grow on every bush; and they don’t take to literary
+women, either,” said her mother.
+
+“Mother, you forget the Howitts, William and Mary; what good, good times
+they have taking long walks and writing; like you and Gus, Tessa, and
+Mr. and Mrs. Browning—”
+
+“You don’t find such people in Dunellen; _we_ live in Dunellen. Gus will
+choose a woman that doesn’t care for books, and so will Mr. Towne, mark
+my words! And so will Felix Harrison, even if he is killing himself with
+study.”
+
+“He is improving greatly,” said Mr. Wadsworth, pulling one of Dine’s
+long curls straight. “He is going away Monday to finish his studies.”
+
+“I honor him,” said Tessa, flushing slightly.
+
+“Don’t,” said Dine, “he sha’n’t have you, Tessa. Don’t honor him.”
+
+“That’s all you and your father think of—keeping Tessa. She needs the
+wear and tear of married life to give her character.”
+
+“It’s queer about that,” rejoined Tessa in a perplexed tone, playing
+with her napkin ring. “If such discipline _be_ the best, why is any
+woman permitted to be without it? Why does not the fitting husband
+appear as soon as the girl begins to wish for him? In the East, where it
+is shameful for a girl not to be married at eleven, I have yet to learn
+that the wives are noted for strength or beauty of character.”
+
+“You may talk,” said her mother, heatedly, “but two years hence _you_
+will dance in a brass kettle.”
+
+“I hope that I shall work in it,” answered Tessa, coloring painfully,
+however. Whether her lips were touched with a slight contempt, or
+tremulous because she was very, very much hurt, Dinah could not decide;
+she was silent because she could not think of any thing sharp enough to
+reply; she never liked to be _too_ saucy.
+
+Mr. Wadsworth spoke in his genial voice: “It’s a beautiful thing,
+daughters, to help a good man live a good life.”
+
+Dinah thought: “I would love to do such a beautiful thing.” Tessa was
+saying to herself, “Oh, what should I do if my father were to die!”
+
+Mr. Wadsworth pushed back his chair, went around to his wife and kissed
+her. Tessa loved him for it.
+
+“You have helped a good man, a good old man, haven’t you, fairy?” he
+said, smoothing the hair that was as pretty as Dinah’s.
+
+“Yes,” answered his wife, and Tessa shivered from head to foot. “People
+all said that you were a different man after you were married.”
+
+“I’m going over to Norah’s,” cried Dinah. “I told her that I would come
+to write our French together. And, oh, father! I forgot to tell you, Gus
+will be in about eight.”
+
+“I don’t know that I care for chess; I can not concentrate my attention
+as I could a year ago.”
+
+“Why do you run off if he is coming?” asked Mrs. Wadsworth.
+
+“He comes too often to be attended to,” Dine answered. “Won’t you be
+around, Tessa?”
+
+“Perhaps.”
+
+Tessa had resolved to give the evening to writing letters, and was
+passing through the dining-room with a china candlestick in her hand,
+when her father, reading Shakespeare at the round table, on which stood
+a shaded lamp, detained her by catching at her dress.
+
+“Set your light down, daughter, and stay a moment.”
+
+With her hand upon his shoulder, she looked down over the page he was
+reading:
+
+ “‘Heaven doth with us as we with torches do;
+ Not light them for themselves—’”
+
+she read aloud.
+
+“I made my will to-day,” he said quietly; “that is, I changed it. Lewis
+Gesner and Gus Hammerton, my tried friends, were in the office at the
+time. If you ever need a friend, daughter, any thing done for you that
+Gus can not do—I count on him as the friend of my girls for life—go to
+Lewis Gesner.”
+
+“I don’t want a friend; I have you.”
+
+“If I should tell your mother about the will she would go into
+hysterics, and Dine would be sure that I am going to die; I have divided
+my little all equally among my three. That is, all but this house and
+garden, which I have given to my elder daughter, Theresa Louise. It is
+to be hers solely, without any gainsaying. Your mother will fume when
+the fact is made known to her, but I give it to you that my three girls
+may always have a roof, humble though it be, over their heads. The old
+man did not know how to make money, but he left them enough to be
+comfortable all their lives there was never any need that his wife
+should worry and work, or that his daughter should marry for a home.
+Very good record for the old man; eh, daughter?”
+
+She laid her cheek against the bald forehead and put both arms around
+his neck.
+
+“And, Tessa, child, your mother is half right about you; don’t have any
+notions about marriage; promise me that you will marry—for you will,
+some day—but for the one best reason.”
+
+“What is that?” she asked roguishly. “How am I to know?”
+
+“What do you think?”
+
+“Because somebody needs me and I can do him good.”
+
+“A Hottentot might urge that; you will find the reason in time. Don’t
+make an idol; that is your temperament.”
+
+“I know it.”
+
+“And above all things don’t sacrifice yourself; few men appreciate being
+done good to! I know men, they are terribly human. Gus Hammerton is a
+fine fellow.”
+
+“_He_ is terribly human,” she answered with a little laugh.
+
+“Am I harsh towards your mother ever, do you think?” he asked in a
+changed tone.
+
+“Why, _no_,” she exclaimed in surprise.
+
+“I used to be. I tried to mould her. Don’t _you_ ever try to mould any
+body; now run away to your work or to your book! Don’t sigh over me, I
+am ‘well and hearty.’ How short my life seems when I look back. Such
+dreams as I had. It’s all right, though.”
+
+She could not run away, for the door-bell, in answer to a most decided
+pull, detained her; she opened it, expecting to see Mr. Hammerton, but
+to her surprise, and but slightly to her pleasure, Felix Harrison stood
+there in broad-shouldered health.
+
+“Good evening,” she said with some bewilderment.
+
+“Do I startle you?” he asked in the old gracious, winning manner. “May I
+come in?”
+
+“I am very glad to see you. Will you walk into my parlor, Mr. Fly?”
+
+The one tall candle in the china candlestick was the only light in the
+room. She set it upon the table, saying, “Excuse me, and I will bring a
+light, that we may the better look at each other. The light of other
+days is hardly sufficient.”
+
+“It is enough for me,” he said, pushing the ottoman towards one of the
+low arm-chairs. “Sit down and I will take the ottoman. The parrot
+recognizes me.”
+
+Her hand moved nervously on the arm of her chair; the hand was larger
+now than when it had spilled ink on his copy-book, larger even than when
+it had written her first, shy, proud, indignant refusal.
+
+“You are not the tempest you used to be,” he said smiling after a survey
+of her face.
+
+“_Wasn’t_ I a tempest? I have outgrown my little breezes. In time I may
+become as gentle as a zephyr.”
+
+“You always were gentle enough.”
+
+“Not to you.”
+
+“Not to me when I tormented you.”
+
+“Probably I should not be gentle if I were tormented now.”
+
+She had never decided to which of the five thousand shades of green
+Felix Harrison’s eyes belonged; they were certainly green; one of the
+English poets had green eyes, she wondered if they were like Felix
+Harrison’s. To-night they glittered as if they were no color at all.
+This face beside her was a spiritualized face; a strong mouth as sweet
+as a woman’s, a round benevolent chin; a low, square forehead; hair as
+light as her own; his side face as he turned at least five years younger
+than the full face; she had often laughed at his queer fashion of
+growing old and growing young. At times, in the years when they were
+more together than of late, he had changed so greatly that, after not
+having seen him for several days she had passed him in the street
+without recognition; these times had been in those indignant times after
+she had refused him; that they were more than indignant times to him she
+was made painfully aware by these changes in his rugged face.
+
+“I have been thinking over those foolish times,” she said, breaking the
+silence. “I am glad that you came in to-night; I am in a mood for
+confessing my wrong-doings; I have said many quick words; you know you
+always had the talent for irritating me.”
+
+“Yes, I always worried you.”
+
+“You did not intend to,” she said hastily, watching the movement of his
+lips; “we did not understand, that is all. It takes longer than a summer
+and a winter for heart to answer to heart.”
+
+“We have known each other many summers and many winters.”
+
+“And now we are old, sensible, hard-working people; having given up all
+nonsense we are discovering the sense there is in sense.”
+
+He turned his face with a listening look in his eyes.
+
+“Did not some one come in? Shall we be disturbed?”
+
+“Not unless we wish to be. It is only Mr. Hammerton, he is a great
+friend of father’s. He renews his youth in him.”
+
+“Is he not _your_ friend?”
+
+How well she remembered his suspicious, exacting questions!
+
+“He is my best friend,” she said proudly.
+
+“I wish I was in heaven,” he said, his voice grown weak. “Every thing
+goes wrong with me; every thing has gone wrong all my life. Father is in
+a rage because I will not stay home; he offered me to-day the deed for
+two hundred acres as a bribe. I should be stronger to-day but that he
+worked my life out when I was a growing boy.”
+
+“A country life is best for you. Your old homestead is the loveliest
+place around, with its deep eaves and dormer-windows and vines. That
+wide hall is one of my pleasant recollections, and the porch that looks
+into the garden, the blue hills away off, and the cool woods, the
+thrushes and the robins and the whip-poor-will at twilight; that
+solitary note sets me to crying, or it used to when I dreamed dreams and
+told them to Laura! I hope that Laura will love the place too well to
+leave it; it is my ideal of a home; much more than splendid Old Place
+is.”
+
+“I will stay if you will come and live in it with me,” he said quietly.
+
+“I like my own home better,” she answered as quietly. “Are you stronger
+than you were?”
+
+“Much stronger. I have not had one of those attacks since March. Lake
+warns me; but I am twice the man that he is! How he coughed last winter!
+I haven’t any thing to live for, anyway.”
+
+“It is very weak for you to say that.”
+
+“Whose fault is it that I am so weak? Whose fault is it that my life is
+spoiled? You have spoiled every thing for me by playing fast and loose
+with me.”
+
+“I never did that,” she answered indignantly. “You accuse me
+wrongfully.”
+
+“Every time you speak to me or look at me you give me hope; an hour with
+you I live on for months. O, Tessa,” dropping his head in both hands, “I
+have loved you all my life.”
+
+“I know it,” she said solemnly. “Can’t you be brave and bear it?”
+
+“I _am_ bearing it. I am bearing it and it is killing me. You never had
+the water ebb and flow, ebb and flow when you were dying of thirst.
+Women can not suffer; they are heartless, all their heart is used in
+causing men to suffer. A touch of your hand, the color in your cheek, a
+dropping of your eyes, talks to me and tells me a lie; and then you go
+up-stairs and kneel down to Him, who is the truth-maker! You are a
+covenant-breaker. You have looked at me scores of times as if you loved
+me; you have told me that you like to be with me; and when I come to you
+and ask you like a man to become my wife, you blush and falter, and
+answer like a woman—_no_. I beg your pardon—”
+
+The tears stood in her eyes but would not fall.
+
+“I did not come here to upbraid you. I did not start from home with the
+intention of coming; but I saw you through the window with your arms
+around your father’s neck and I thought, ‘Her heart is soft to-night;
+she will listen to me.’ I was drawn in, as you always draw me, against
+my better judgment. I shall not trouble you again; I am going away.
+Tessa,” suddenly snatching both hands, “if you are so sorry for me, why
+can’t you love me?”
+
+“I don’t know,” not withdrawing her hands, “something hinders. I honor
+you. I admire you. Your love for me is a great rest to me; I want to
+wrap myself up in it and go to sleep; I do not want to give it up—no one
+else loves me, and I _do_ want somebody to love me.”
+
+“I will love you; only let me. Marry me and I will stay at home; I will
+do for you all that a human heart and two human hands can do; I will
+_be_ to you all that you will help me to be.”
+
+“But I do not want to marry you,” she said perplexed. “I should have to
+give up too much. I love my home and the people in it better than I love
+you.”
+
+“I will not take you away; you shall have them all; you shall come to
+them and they shall come to you; remember that I have never loved any
+one but you—” the great tears were rolling down his cheeks. “I am not
+worth it; I am not worthy to speak to you, or even to hold your hands
+like this.” He broke down utterly, sobbing wearily and excitedly.
+
+“Don’t, oh, don’t,” she cried hurriedly. “I may grow to love you if you
+want me to so much, and you are good and true, I can believe every word
+you say—not soon—in two or three years perhaps.”
+
+His tears were on her hands, and he had loved her all her life; no one
+else loved her, no one else ever would love her like this; he was good
+and true, and she wanted some one to love her; she wanted to be sure of
+love somewhere and then to go to sleep. Her father should see her
+married before he died; her mother would never—
+
+“You have promised,” he cried, in a thick voice. “You have promised and
+you never break your word.”
+
+“I have promised and I never break my word; but you must not speak of it
+to any one, not even to Laura, and I will not tell father, or Gus, or
+Miss Jewett, or Dine; no one must guess it for one year—it is so sudden
+and strange! I couldn’t bear to hear it spoken of; and if you are very
+gentle and do not _try_ to make me love you—you must not kiss me, or put
+your arms around me, you know I never did like that, and perhaps that is
+one reason why I never liked you before—you must let me alone, let love
+come of itself and grow of itself.”
+
+“I will,” he uttered brokenly, and rose up trembling from head to foot.
+“May God bless you!—bless you!—bless you!”
+
+It was better for him to leave her; the strain had been too great for
+both.
+
+“I must be alone; I must go out under the stars and thank God.”
+
+She lifted her face to his and kissed him. How unutterably glad and
+thankful she was in all her life afterward that she gave that kiss
+unasked.
+
+“God bless you, my darling,” he said tenderly, “and He _will_ bless you
+for this.”
+
+Bewildered, not altogether unhappy, she sat alone while he went out
+under the stars.
+
+Was this the end of all her girlhood’s dreams?
+
+Only Felix Harrison! Must she pass all her life with him? Must her
+father and mother and Gus and Dine be not so much to her because Felix
+Harrison had become more—had become most? And Ralph Towne? Ought she to
+love Felix as she had loved him?
+
+The hurried questions were answerless. She did not belong to herself;
+not any more to her father as she had belonged to him half an hour since
+with both her arms around his neck. Love constituted ownership, and she
+belonged to Felix through this mighty right of love; did he belong to
+her through the same divine right?
+
+He was thanking God and so must she thank Him.
+
+“Tessa,” called her father, “come here, daughter!”
+
+With the candle in her hand, she stood in the door-way of the
+sitting-room. “Well,” she said.
+
+“With whom were you closeted?” asked Mr. Hammerton, looking up from the
+chess-board.
+
+The effort to speak in her usual tone lent to her voice a sharpness that
+startled herself.
+
+“Felix Harrison.”
+
+“Your old tormentor!” suggested Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“Who ever called him that?” She came to the table, set the candlestick
+down and looked over the chess-board.
+
+“She has refused him again,” mentally decided Mr. Hammerton, carefully
+moving his queen.
+
+“I called you, daughter, because Gus withstood me out and out about
+‘Heaven doth with us as we with torches do.’ Find it and let his
+obstinate eyes behold!”
+
+She opened the volume, turning the leaves with fingers that trembled.
+“Truly enough,” she was thinking, “a year from to-day will find a
+difference.”
+
+“Now I am going over for Dine,” she said, after Mr. Hammerton had
+acknowledged himself in the wrong.
+
+“Permit me to accompany you,” he said. Even with Tessa Wadsworth, Gus
+Hammerton was often formal. They found Dinah bidding Norah good-by at
+Mr. Bird’s gate; they were laughing at nothing, as usual.
+
+“Let us walk to the end of the planks,” suggested Mr. Hammerton. “On a
+night like this I could tramp till sunrise.” He drew Tessa’s arm through
+his, saying, “Now, Dine, take the other fin.”
+
+The end of the planks touched a piece of woods; at the entrance of the
+wood stood an old building, windowless, doorless, chimneyless; the
+school children knew that it was haunted.
+
+“We’re afraid,” laughed Dine; “the old hut looks ghostly.”
+
+“It _is_ ghostly, I will relate its history. Once upon a time, upon a
+dark night, so dark that I could not see the white horse upon which I
+rode—”
+
+“Oh, that’s splendid,” cried Dinah, hanging contentedly upon his arm.
+“Listen, Tessa.”
+
+But Tessa could not listen. She was feeling the peace that rested over
+the woods, the fields; that was enwrapping Old Place, and further down
+the dim road the low-eaved homestead that must thenceforth be home to
+her. There could be no more air-castles; her future was decided. She had
+turned the leaf and discovered a name that hitherto had meant so little:
+Felix Harrison. Not Ralph Towne; a year ago to-night it was English
+violets and Ralph Towne. The peace that brooded over all might be hers,
+if only she would be content.
+
+At this moment,—while she was trying to be content, trying to believe
+that she could interpret the peace of the shining stars, and while she
+was hearing the sound of her companion’s words, a solemn, even tone that
+rolled on in unison with her thoughts,—two people far away were thinking
+of her; thinking of her, but not wishing and not daring to speak her
+name.
+
+“I can not understand, Ralph. I was sure that we would bring Naughty Nan
+away with us.”
+
+“Truly, mother, I would have pleased you, if I could.”
+
+“You are too serious for her; with all her mischievous advances,—like a
+white kitten provokingly putting out its paw,—she was more than half
+afraid of you.”
+
+“It does not hurt her to be afraid.”
+
+“She is most bewitching.”
+
+“Now, mother! But it is too late; she will understand by my parting
+words that I do not expect to see her soon again. In my mind is a memory
+that has kept me from loving that delicious Naughty Nan.”
+
+“Is the memory a fancy?”
+
+“No; it is too real for my ease of mind. If I were a poet, which I am
+not, I should think that her spirit haunted me.”
+
+“Can you tell me no more of her? That daughter that I might have had!”
+
+“I do not understand her: she is beyond me, she baffles me.”
+
+“I read of a man once who loved a woman too well to marry any one else,
+and yet he did not love her well enough to marry her.”
+
+“Was he a fool?”
+
+“Answer the question for yourself. Are _you_ a fool?”
+
+“Yes, I am. I do not know my own mind. I should call another man a
+fool.”
+
+“It may not be too late,” she gently urged.
+
+“Too late for what?” he asked irritably.
+
+“To be wise.”
+
+In a few moments he spoke in an abrupt, changed tone—
+
+“Mother! I have decided at last. I shall hang out my shingle in
+Dunellen. It is a picturesque little city, and the climate is as good
+for you as the south of France.”
+
+“I am very glad,” she answered cordially. “You are a born physician, you
+are cool, you are quick, you are gentle; you can keep your feelings
+under perfect control. You are not quite a Stoic, but you will do very
+well for one.”
+
+“But you will not be happy at Old Place without me.”
+
+“Why should I be without you?”
+
+“You have noticed that large, wide brick house on the opposite side of
+the Park from Miss Jewett’s? It has a garden and stable; it is just the
+house for us; you may have two rooms thrown into one for your
+sitting-room and any other changes that you please.”
+
+“I remember it, I like the situation; there are English sparrows in the
+trees.”
+
+“We will take that for the present. John Gesner owns it; he will make
+his own price if he sees that I want it, I suppose. I _do_ want it.
+There are not many things that I desire more. You and I will have a
+green old age at Old Place.”
+
+“You forget that I am thirty years older than you, my son.”
+
+By accident, one day, Mrs. Towne had come across, in one of the drawers
+of her son’s writing-table, a large photograph of Tessa Wadsworth, a
+vignette, and she had gazed long upon her; the face was not beautiful,
+one would not even think of it as pretty, but it was fine, intellectual,
+sensitive, and sweet. In searching for an old letter not long before
+leaving home, she had discovered this picture, defaced and torn into
+several pieces.
+
+“Ralph, you will not be angry with your white-headed old mother, but
+were you ever refused?”
+
+“No,” he said, laughing. “A dozen women may have been ready to refuse
+me, but not one ever did.”
+
+“Nor accepted you, either,” she continued, shrewdly.
+
+He arose and began to pace the floor; after some turns of excited
+movement, he came to her and stood behind her chair. “I know that I have
+been accepted; I know that I asked when I did not intend to ask—that
+is—I was carried beyond myself; I asked when I did not know that I was
+asking.”
+
+“What shall you do now?”
+
+“I shall ask in reality; I shall confess myself in the wrong.”
+
+“And she?”
+
+“And she? She has the tenderest heart in the world. She has forgiven me
+long ago.”
+
+“Do not trust her eyes and forget her lips,” warned his mother. “Love is
+slain sometimes.”
+
+He resumed his walk with a less confident air. He _had_ forgotten her
+lips.
+
+Would Tessa have cared to hear this? Would she have forgotten Felix, his
+blessing and the quiet of the holy stars?
+
+“Oh,” cried Dinah, with her little shout (she would not have been Dinah
+without that little shout), “Oh, Tessa, did you hear?”
+
+“She is star-gazing,” said Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“It isn’t a true story,” pleaded Dinah. “You didn’t really see him
+hanging by the rope and the woman looking on.”
+
+“My young friend, it is an allegory; that is what you will drive some
+man to some day.”
+
+“You know I won’t. What is the name of that bright star?”
+
+“It isn’t a star, it’s a planet.”
+
+“How do I know the difference?”
+
+“Lady Blue knows.”
+
+“Do you call her that because her eyes are so blue or because she is a
+blue-stocking?”
+
+“She is not a blue-stocking; I will not allow it. It is for her eyes.”
+
+“Gus,” said Dinah, “I can’t understand things.”
+
+“What things?”
+
+“Tennyson’s Dream of Fair Women.”
+
+“I shouldn’t think you could. I have spent hours on it trying to make it
+out. You look up Marc Antony and Cleopatra—”
+
+“As if I had to.”
+
+“Well, look up the daughter of the warrior Gileadite, and fair Rosamond,
+and angered Eleanor, and Fulvia, and Joan of Arc.”
+
+“And will you read it to us, and talk all about it?” cried Dinah in
+delight. “I like King Lear when father reads it, but I can’t understand
+Shakespeare; he is all conversations.”
+
+Mr. Hammerton laughed, and patted her head. “I will bring you the
+stories that Charles and Mary Lamb gathered from Shakespeare.”
+
+“Shall we turn?” asked Tessa, slipping her hand through his arm; he
+instantly imprisoned her fingers. Felix would be troubled and angry she
+knew, even at this clasp of an old friend’s hand. Jealousy was his one
+strong passion; he was jealous of the books she read, of the letters she
+received, of every word spoken to her that he did not hear; she wondered
+as her fingers drew themselves free, if he would ever become jealous of
+her prayers.
+
+She drew a long breath as the weight of her bondage fell heavier and
+heavier; and then, he was so demonstrative, so lavish of his caresses,
+and her ideal of a lover was one who held himself aloof, who kept his
+hands and his lips to himself. She sighed more than once as she kept
+even pace with the others.
+
+“Has the nightingale made a mistake?” asked Mr. Hammerton, as they were
+crossing to the gate.
+
+“She only made one mistake. I wonder how many I _can_ make if I do my
+best to make them.”
+
+Dinah opened the gate; her father’s light streamed through the windows
+over the garden, down the path.
+
+“Good night,” said Mr. Hammerton. “Oh, I just remember, what shall I do?
+I asked my cousin Mary to go to a lecture on Burns with me to-night, and
+I declare! I never thought of it until this minute.”
+
+“Mary Sherwood will give it to you,” said Dinah. “I wonder what your
+wife will do with you.”
+
+“A wife’s first duty is obedience,” he answered.
+
+“I’d like to see the man I’d promise to obey,” said Dinah, quickly.
+
+“I expect you would,” he said gravely.
+
+Dine darted after him to box his ears, words being impotent, and Tessa
+went into the house. “I think I’ll pigeon-hole _this_ day and then go to
+bed,” she said, a merry gleam crossing her eyes; “between my two walks
+on the planks to-day, I have lived half a lifetime. I hope Dr. Lake is
+asleep; I will never hurt Felix as he is hurt.”
+
+
+
+
+IX.—THE NEW MORNING.
+
+
+Her eyes were wide open an hour before the dawn; as the faint light
+streamed through the east and glowed brighter and brighter along the rim
+of the south that she could see from her position on the pillow, she
+arose, wrapped a shawl about her, and went to the window to watch the
+new morning. On the last night of the old year she had watched the
+sunset standing at her western window, then the light had gone out of
+her life and all the world was dark; now, in the new year, her private
+and personal new year, the light was rising, creeping up slowly into the
+sky, the gold, the faint rose and the bright rose running into each
+other, softening, blending, glowing deeper and deeper as she watched.
+This new morning that was an old morning to so many other eyes that were
+looking out upon it; this new morning that would be again for Dinah,
+perhaps, and for all the other girls that were growing up into God’s
+kingdom on the earth! The robins in Mr. Bird’s apple orchard were awake,
+too, and chanticleer down the road had proclaimed the opening of another
+new day with all his lusty might. She wondered, as she listened and
+looked, if Felix were standing in the light of the morning on the porch,
+or he might be walking up and down the long garden path. And thanking
+God? She wished that she were thanking God. She was thanking Him for the
+light, the colors, the refreshing, misty air, the robins and the white
+and pink wealth of apple blossoms; but she was not thanking Him because
+Felix Harrison loved her.
+
+“And that night they caught nothing.”
+
+The words repeated themselves with startling clearness. What connection
+could they possibly have with the sunrise? Oh, now she knew; it was
+because the fishermen had seen the Lord upon the shore in the morning.
+
+_She_ had caught nothing; all her night of toil had been fruitless; she
+had striven and hoped and dreamed, oh, how she had dreamed of all that
+she would do and become! And now she could not be glad of any thing.
+
+The years had ended in having Felix Harrison love her; that was all. She
+had lived her childhood and girlhood through for such a time as this.
+
+This new year had brought more hard things to bear than any of the old
+years; if she could only tell some one who would care and sympathize
+with her and help her not only to bear but to do and to become; but her
+father would be justly angry and exclaim, “Madness, daughter,” her
+mother would laugh and look perplexed, Miss Jewett would say, “O, Tessa,
+Tessa, I didn’t think such a thing of you,” and Mr. Towne—but she had no
+right to think of him! And Gus! He would look at her steadily and say
+nothing; he would be disappointed in her if he knew that she could
+promise with her lips, with no love in her heart save the love of
+regret, compassion, and contrition for all that she had so unconsciously
+caused him to suffer. And how could she reveal to Felix, poor Felix! the
+plain, cold truth! how she shrank from him as soon as she was alone and
+could think! how as the morning grew brighter and her world more real
+she shrank from him yet more and more! how the very thought of his
+presence, of his tight arms around her, and his smooth face close to
+hers gave her a feeling of repulsion that she had never felt towards any
+human being before! She felt that she must flee to the ends of the earth
+rather than to endure him. But it was done; she must keep her word; he
+should never guess; she would write a note and slip it into his hand
+to-day, he would be sure to press through the crowd towards her as she
+came out of church. She would write it now and be at rest. Her
+writing-desk stood open, pages of manuscript were laid upon it. She
+selected a sheet of lemon-colored note paper, and wrote a message,
+hurriedly, in pencil. Never afterward would she write a word upon
+lemon-colored paper.
+
+“Do not come to me, dear Felix—” she hesitated over the adjective,
+erased the words, and dropped the sheet into her waste paper basket and
+found another: “Do not come to me, Felix, until I send for you, please.
+I am not strong. I want to be alone. Do not think me unkind, you know
+that I always did like to be alone. Do not expect too much of me; I am
+not what you think; I am a weak, impulsive woman, too tender-hearted to
+be wise, or to be just towards myself or towards you. If you want me to
+love you, ask it of Him, who is love; do not ask it of me, I am not
+love. But do not be troubled, I have given my word, I am not a
+covenant-breaker, _I will be true_.”
+
+She folded it, not addressing it, and placed it in the pocket of the
+dress that she would wear to church; as she passed the window she saw
+Dr. Lake driving towards home. Shivering, although the sun was high
+enough to shine on the apple blossoms, she crept back to bed, nestling
+close to sleepy Dine who loved her morning nap better than the sunrise.
+Her confused thoughts ran hither and thither; she found herself
+repeating something that she and Mr. Hammerton had learned together
+years ago,
+
+ “‘Yes,’ I answered you last night;
+ ‘No,’ this morning, sir, I say;
+ Colors seen by candlelight
+ Do not look the same by day.”
+
+Mr. Hammerton said that he and the Wadsworth girls had learned “miles”
+of poetry together. The Harrisons were not at church. When had such a
+thing happened before? Her fingers were on the note in her pocket as she
+passed down the aisle.
+
+“Tessa, Tessa,” whispered a loud whisper behind her, and Sue’s
+irrepressible lips were close to her ear; “come home to dinner with me;
+you won’t want to go to Bible class, for Miss Jewett is down to
+Harrison’s. Father sent for her to go early this morning.”
+
+“Why is she there?”
+
+“Oh, somebody is sick. Felix. Dr. Lake was there in the night and father
+was going this morning. He was taken crazy, I believe. Come home with
+me, will you?”
+
+“Very well.”
+
+She found Dine waiting for Norah, and told her that she was going home
+with Sue, then rejoined Sue at one of the gates.
+
+“I’m awful lonesome Sundays,” began Sue; “Aunt Jane has gone, I told
+you, didn’t I? A cousin of hers died and left some dozens of young ones
+and she had to go and take care of them and console the widower. ‘The
+unconsolable widder of Deacon Bedott will never get married again!’ but
+she went all the same. She said that she had brought _me_ up far enough
+to take care of father.”
+
+Sue’s lightness grated all along her nerves.
+
+“Did you like Mary Sherwood’s hat? Too many flowers, don’t you think so?
+And she _will_ wear light blue with her sallow face! Wasn’t it a queer
+sermon, too? Don’t you think it is wicked for ministers to frighten
+people so? He said that we make our own lives, that we choose every day,
+and that every choice has an influence. You think that I don’t listen
+because I stare around, don’t you? I sha’n’t forget that ever, because I
+have just had a choice that will influence my life; and I chose _not_ to
+do it. It’s hateful to have Miss Jewett away; I won’t go to Bible class,
+and I won’t let you, either. I have a book to read, or I can go to
+sleep.”
+
+“Yes, you can go to sleep.”
+
+“I have something to tell you,” said Sue, shyly, hesitating as she
+glanced into Tessa’s quiet, almost stern, face.
+
+“Not now—in the street.”
+
+“Oh, no, when we are by ourselves. Our parlors are lovely now; you will
+see how I have fixed up things. Father is so delighted to have me home
+that he will let me do any thing I like.”
+
+Voices behind them and voices before them, now and then a soft, Sunday
+laugh; through the pauses of Sue’s talk Tessa listened, catching at any
+thing to keep herself from thinking.
+
+“A rare sermon.”
+
+“It will do me good all the week.”
+
+“The most becoming spring hat I’ve seen.”
+
+“He is very handsome in the pulpit.”
+
+“Come over to tea.”
+
+“I expect to do great things this summer.”
+
+“If I could talk like that I’d set people to thinking.”
+
+“We sha’n’t get out of trouble in _this_ world.”
+
+“When I can’t forgive myself, I just let go of myself, and let God
+forgive me.”
+
+She wished that she could see that face; the voice sounded familiar, the
+reply was in a man’s voice; she felt as if she were listening, but she
+would have liked to hear the reply, all the more when she discovered
+that the talkers were Mr. Lewis Gesner and his sister.
+
+“_Isn’t_ she handsomely dressed?” exclaimed Sue in admiration. “She
+passed me without seeing me. He is so wrapped up in that sister that he
+will never be married.”
+
+The crowd became thinner; couples and threes and fours, sometimes only
+one, entered at each gate as they moved on; they passed down the long
+street almost alone; Dr. Greyson’s new house stood nearly a mile from
+the Park; there was a grass plot in front and stables in the rear.
+
+Dr. Lake was driving around to the stables.
+
+“I hoped that he wouldn’t be home to lunch; he’s awful cross,” said Sue,
+with a pout and a flush. Fifteen minutes later the lunch bell rang; Dr.
+Greyson hurried in as they were seating themselves at the table.
+
+Tessa’s quickened heart-beats would not allow her to ask about Felix;
+she knew that her voice would betray her agitation; Dr. Lake had shaken
+hands and had not stopped to speak to her; his miserable face was but a
+repetition of yesterday.
+
+Dr. Greyson seldom talked of anything but his patients and he was
+interested in Felix Harrison, she knew that she had but to wait
+patiently.
+
+“Susie is a perfect housekeeper, isn’t she? Somebody will find it out,
+I’m afraid.”
+
+“That’s all I am,” said Sue. “Father, why didn’t you educate me?”
+
+“Educate a kitten!”
+
+“How is Felix Harrison?” inquired Dr. Lake.
+
+“Bad! Bad enough. That fellow has been walking around with a brain
+fever. He’ll pull through with care. Miss Jewett will stay until they
+can get a nurse; I would rather keep _her_, though. I warned him months
+ago. I told him that it would come to this. He has thrown away his life;
+he’ll never be good for any thing again. I am glad that he has a father
+to take care of him; lucky for him, and not so lucky for his father. I
+wouldn’t care to see my son such a wreck as he’ll be. Why a man born
+with brains will deliberately make a fool of himself, I can’t
+understand. Teaching and studying law and what not? He will have fits as
+long as he lives coming upon him any day any hour; he will be as much
+care as an infant. More, for an infant does grow up, and he will only
+become weaker and weaker mentally and physically. He has been under some
+great excitement, I suspect. _They_ don’t know what it is. He came home
+late last night; his father heard a noise in his room and went in to
+find him as crazy as a loon. He said that he had heard him talking in
+his sleep all night long for two or three nights. I hope that he isn’t
+engaged. I know a case like his, and that poor fellow _was_ engaged.”
+
+“Of course that ended it,” said Sue. “A sick husband of all things. I
+would drown myself, if I had a sick husband.”
+
+“Of course it ended it. It almost broke her heart, though; broke it for
+a year, and then a dashing cousin of his mended it.”
+
+“Perhaps Felix hasn’t any cousin. Dr. Lake, will you have more coffee?”
+Sue spoke carelessly, not meeting his glance.
+
+“Thank you, no.”
+
+Dr. Greyson ran on talking and eating: “I told the old man the whole
+truth; he begged so hard to know the worst. He cried like a baby. He was
+proud of Felix. Felix was a fine fellow,—a noble fellow. But he’s dead
+now; dead, _and_ buried.”
+
+“Does Laura know?” inquired Sue, helping herself to sweet pickled
+peaches. Tessa was tasting the peaches, her throat so full of sobs that
+she swallowed the fruit with pain.
+
+“No, of course not. I told Miss Jewett to tell her any thing, but be
+sure to keep her up. He won’t die. Why should he? It will come gradually
+to her. The very saddest case I know. And to think that it might have
+been avoided. I didn’t tell his father _that_, though. Felix has no one
+but himself to thank. I warned him a year ago. Brains _without_ common
+sense is a very poor commodity. What did the minister tell you Miss
+Tessa? I haven’t been to church since Sue was a baby.”
+
+“No wonder that I’m a heathen, then; any body would be with such a
+father,” retorted Sue.
+
+Dr. Lake excused himself abruptly, and crossing the hall went into the
+office.
+
+“That foolish boy has taught me a lesson. I would take a vacation this
+summer, only if I leave Sue at home she would run off and marry Lake
+before a week.”
+
+“You needn’t be afraid,” answered Sue, scornfully. “I look higher than
+Gerald Lake.”
+
+The office door stood ajar. Sue colored with vexation as the words in
+her high voice left her lips.
+
+“Shall we go into the parlor?” she said rising. “You can find a book and
+I’ll go to sleep.”
+
+The parlors had been refurnished in crimson and brown. Standing in the
+centre of the front parlor, Tessa exclaimed, “Oh, how pretty!”
+
+“Isn’t it? All my taste. Dr. Lake did advise me, though; he went with
+me. Now, you shall sit in the front or back just as you please, in the
+most comfortable of chairs, and I will sit opposite you and snooze,—that
+is,” rather doubtfully, for she was afraid of Tessa, “unless you will
+let me tell you my secret.”
+
+In passing through the rooms, Tessa had taken a volume of Josephus from
+a table; she settled herself at one of the back windows in a pretty
+crimson and brown chair, smoothed the folds of her black dress, folded
+her hands in her lap over the green volume, and looked up at Sue. Sue
+and a book in brown paper were in another crimson and brown chair at
+another window; flushed and vexed she played with the edges of her book.
+
+“Do you think that he heard what I said?” she asked anxiously.
+
+“You know as well as I.”
+
+She did not feel in a gentle mood towards Sue; her voice and words had
+rasped her nerves for the last hour.
+
+“I didn’t intend it for him,” she was half crying, “but father provoked
+me. He does bother me so. I didn’t flirt with him, I was real good and
+sisterly. I told him to call me Sister Sue. But after it all, he asked
+me to marry him, and was as mad as a hornet, and said dreadful things to
+me when I refused him.”
+
+She nibbled the edge of her book; Tessa had nothing to say.
+
+“I couldn’t help it now, could I?” in a tearful voice.
+
+“You know best.”
+
+“I _know_ I couldn’t. I like him. I can’t help liking him; a cat or a
+dog would like him. In some things, I like him better than Stacey, and
+I’m sure I like him better than old John Gesner.”
+
+Tessa opened her book and looked into the handsome face of Flavius
+Josephus.
+
+“Haven’t you any thing to say to me?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“You might sympathize with me.”
+
+“I don’t know how.”
+
+Sue nibbled the edge of her book, with her eyes filled with tears. She
+had no friend except Tessa, and now she had deserted her!
+
+Tessa turned the leaves and thought that she was reading; she did read
+the words: “The family from which I am derived is not an ignoble one,
+but hath descended all along from the priests; and as nobility among
+several people is of a different origin, so with us to be of the
+sacerdotal dignity is an indication of the splendor of a family.”
+
+“Yes,” she tried to think, her eyes wandering out of the window towards
+the rear of Gesner’s Row, “and that is why the promise, to be made kings
+and priests—”
+
+“Tessa, I think you are real mean,” said Sue, in a pathetic voice.
+
+Tessa met her eyes and smiled. She did not like to be hard towards Sue.
+
+“Do you think that I’ve been so wicked?”
+
+“I think that you have been so wicked that you must either be forgiven
+or punished.”
+
+“Oh, dear! Oh, dear _me_,” dropping her head on the arm of her chair.
+
+Tessa turned another leaf. “Moreover when I was a child and about
+fourteen years of age, I was commended by all for the love I had to
+learning; on which account the high priests and principal men of the
+city came then frequently to me together, in order to know my opinion
+about the accurate understanding of points of the law.”
+
+Her eyes wandered away from the book and out the open window towards the
+rows of open windows in the houses behind the stables. At one window was
+seated an old man reading; in the same room, for he raised his head to
+speak to her, at another window, a woman was sitting reading also. She
+was glad that there were two. She wondered if they had been kind to each
+other as long as they had known each other. If the old man should die
+to-night would the old woman have need to say, “Forgive me.” Through the
+windows above came the heavy, steady whirr of a sewing-machine, with now
+and then a _click_, as if the long seam had come to its end; the bushy,
+black head of a German Jew was bent over it; the face that he raised was
+not at all like that of the refined Flavius Josephus. No one ever went
+to him with knotty points in the law! There were plants in the other
+window of the room; she was glad of the plants. It was rather mournful
+to be seeking things to be glad about. A child was crying, sharply,
+rebelliously; a woman’s sharper voice was breaking in upon it.
+
+There was a voice in the stable speaking to a horse, “Quiet, old boy.” A
+horse was brought out and harnessed to a buggy without a top. Dr.
+Greyson climbed into the buggy and drove off. Another horse was brought
+out and harnessed to a buggy with a top. She persuaded herself that she
+was very much interested in watching people and things; she had not had
+time to think of Felix yet. Dr. Lake came out, sprang into the buggy,
+and drove slowly out, not looking towards the windows where sat the two
+figures, each apparently absorbed in a book.
+
+“Tessa,” in a broken voice, like the appeal of a naughty child with the
+naughtiness all gone, “what shall I do?”
+
+“I don’t know,” said Tessa.
+
+“You don’t think that I ought to marry him. He smells of medicine so.”
+
+“I do not think any thing. If I did think any thing, it would be my
+thinking and not yours.”
+
+“Do you believe that he cares so _very_ much?”
+
+The exultant undertone was too much for Tessa’s patience.
+
+“I hope that he has too much good sense to care long; some day when he
+can see how heartless you are, he will despise himself for having
+fancied that he loved you.”
+
+“You don’t care how you hurt my feelings.”
+
+“I am not sure that you have any to be hurt.”
+
+“You are a mean thing; I don’t like you; I wish that I hadn’t asked you
+to come.”
+
+Tessa’s eyes were on _Josephus_ again.
+
+After a long, silent hour, during which Sue looked out the window, and
+nibbled the edge of her book, and during which Tessa thought of every
+body and every thing except Felix Harrison, Sue spoke: “I’m going
+up-stairs for a while; excuse me, please.”
+
+Tessa nodded, closed her book and leaned back in the pretty crimson and
+brown chair. Sue came to her and stood a moment; her heart _was_ sore.
+If Tessa would only say something kind! But Tessa would not; she only
+said coolly, “Well?”
+
+“You don’t believe that I am sorry.”
+
+“I don’t believe any thing about it, but that you are heartless and
+wicked.”
+
+Sue stood waiting for another word, but Tessa looked tired, and as if
+she had forgotten her presence. Why should she look so, Sue asked
+herself resentfully; _she_ had nothing to trouble her? Sue went away,
+her arms dropped at her side, her long green dress trailing on the
+carpet; tenderness gathered in Tessa’s eyes as the green figure
+disappeared. “I don’t like to be hard to her,” she murmured.
+
+The terrible thought of Felix pressed heavier and heavier. She took the
+note from her pocket and pondered each word; the cruel, truthful words!
+If he had read them she might have had to believe all her life that she
+had hastened this illness! The sunshine grew warmer, beating down upon
+the paving stones in the yard, the faces kept their places in the
+windows, the child’s shrill, rebellious cry burst out again and the
+woman’s sharper voice.
+
+Sue’s steps were moving overhead; suddenly, so suddenly as to break in
+upon the current of her thoughts, Sue’s voice rang out in her clear
+soprano, “Rock of Ages, cleft for me.”
+
+The voice grated, the words coming from the thoughtless lips grated on
+her ear and on her heart, grated more harshly than the woman’s sharp
+voice in taunting rebuke.
+
+ “Nothing in my hand I bring,
+ Simply to Thy cross I cling.”
+
+As soon as she had decided that she could not bear it another instant,
+the singing ceased. It ceased and left her in tears.
+
+
+
+
+X.—FORGETTING THE BREAD.
+
+
+Again Tessa was spending the night with Miss Jewett; Sue Greyson had
+chatted away half the evening, and it was nearly eleven before Tessa
+could put both arms around her friend and squeeze her.
+
+“I am hungry for a talk with you, you dear little woman, every thing is
+getting to be criss-cross with me nowadays; I’m so troubled and so
+wicked that I almost want to die. You wouldn’t love me any more if you
+could know how false I am. All my life I have been so proud of being
+true,” she added bitterly, “I despise myself.”
+
+“Is that all?”
+
+Miss Jewett was leaning back in her little rocker. Almost before she
+knew it herself, Tessa had dropped upon the carpet at her feet.
+
+“I have come to learn of you, my saint.”
+
+“What have you come to learn, my sinner?”
+
+“I’m confused—I’m bewildered—I’m all in a tangle. People say, ‘pray
+about it’; you say that yourself; and I do pray about all the trials in
+my life and yet—I can not understand—I am groping my way, I am blind,
+walking in the dark. Do you know that I believe that praying for a thing
+is the hardest way in the world to get it? I would rather earn it a
+thousand times over; I know that you think me dreadfully wicked, but do
+not stop me, let me pour it all out; hard praying, never ceasing, night
+and day, is enough to wear one out soul and body, because you _must_
+expect to get what you ask for, and if you do not after praying so long
+the disappointment is heart-breaking. There now! I have said it and I
+feel better. I have no one except you to talk to and I wouldn’t dare
+tell you how wicked I am. About something I have prayed with all my
+strength—I will not be ashamed to tell you—I know you will understand;
+it is about loving somebody. I have been so ashamed and shocked at
+girls’ love-stories and I wanted one so true and pure and unselfish and
+beautiful, and I have prayed that mine might be that, and I have tried
+so hard to make it that, and yet I get into trouble and break my own
+heart, which is nothing at all, and more than break some one else’s
+heart and do as much harm as Sue Greyson does, who is as flighty as a
+witch! I would rather go without things than pray years and years and be
+disappointed every day, or go farther and farther into wrong-doing as I
+do; I don’t believe that the flightiest and flirtiest of your girls does
+as much harm as I do, or is as false to herself as I am! And I have been
+so proud of being true!”
+
+“My _dear_ child.”
+
+“Is that all you can say to comfort me?”
+
+“Why do you pray?”
+
+“Why do I pray?” repeated Tessa in surprise. “To get what I want, I
+suppose.”
+
+“I thought so.”
+
+“Isn’t that what you pray for?”
+
+“Hardly. I pray that I may get what God wants.”
+
+“Oh,” said Tessa with a half startled, little cry.
+
+“I fear that you are having a hard time over something, child.”
+
+“If you only knew—but you wouldn’t believe in me any longer; neither
+would father, or Dine, or Gus, or any one who trusts me; I will not tell
+you; I have lost all faith in myself.”
+
+“Thank God for that!” exclaimed the little woman brightly.
+
+“I am too sore and bruised to be thankful; I feel, sometimes, as if I
+could creep into a dark corner and cry my heart out. I could bear it if
+I were the only one, but to think that I must make somebody’s heart ache
+as mine does! I thought all my prayers would prevail to keep me from
+making mistakes.”
+
+“Perhaps you have been trying to _earn_ your heart’s desire by heaping
+up prayers, piling them up higher and higher, morning, noon, and night,
+and you have held them up to God thinking that He must be glad to take
+them; I shouldn’t wonder if you had even supposed that you were paying
+Him overmuch—you had prayed enough to get what you want some time ago.”
+
+“That is true,” answered Tessa, emphatically. “I have felt as if He were
+wronging me by taking my prayers and giving me so little in return. I
+believe that I have thought my prayers precious enough to pay for any
+thing. I paid my prayers, and I am disappointed that I have not my
+purchases.”
+
+“Then your faith has been all in your _prayers_.”
+
+“Yes; I was sure that I could not go wrong because I prayed so much.”
+
+“And your faith has been in your _faith_.”
+
+“And neither my faith nor my prayers have kept me from being false. Oh,
+it has been such hard work!”
+
+Tessa’s face was drawn as if by physical pain.
+
+“I was thinking in the night last night that I did not believe that
+Hannah, or Elizabeth, or Huldah, or Persis, or Dorcas ever prayed more
+fervently or unceasingly than I have; I have builded on my _faith_, no
+wonder that the first rough wind has shaken my foundation! Ever since
+Felix Harrison years ago called me a flirt, I have prayed that I might
+be true; and to-night I am as false as Sue Greyson.”
+
+“Through an experience once, long ago, I learned to pray that the will
+of God might be done in me, even although I must be sifted as wheat.”
+
+“I am not brave enough for that. Oh, Miss Jewett, I am afraid that God
+is angry with me; and I have meant to be so true.”
+
+“Do you remember the time that the disciples forgot to take bread?”
+
+“Yes, but that is not like me.”
+
+“I think it is—just like you.”
+
+“Then tell me.”
+
+“It was one time when Jesus and the disciples were alone on board the
+ship; He had been deeply grieved with the Pharisees, sighing in His
+spirit over them, for they had tempted Him with asking of Him a sign
+from heaven. A sign from heaven! And He had just filled four thousand
+hungry people with seven loaves and a few small fishes!
+
+“By and by He began to talk to the disciples; speaking with authority,
+perhaps, it even sounded severe to them as He charged them to beware of
+the leaven of the Pharisees.
+
+“Then they began to talk among themselves: what had they done to be thus
+bidden to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees? _Leaven_ reminded them
+of bread! Oh, now they knew! They had but one loaf in the ship; they had
+forgotten to bring bread with them; perhaps the Lord was hungry and knew
+that they had not enough for Him and for themselves. It may be that He
+overheard them reasoning among themselves, or perhaps, forward Peter
+asked Him if He were rebuking them for forgetting the bread; for as soon
+as He knew what was troubling their simple hearts, how He talked to
+them! Seven questions, one after another, He asked them, ending with:
+_How is it_ that ye do not understand?
+
+“And you are like them, child. The Lord has suffered you to be led into
+trouble that He may teach you something about Himself and you fall down
+at His feet bemoaning yourself; you forget Him and the great lessons He
+has to teach you and think only of yourself and some little thing that
+you missed doing; you missed it, blinded with tears in your eagerness to
+do right, you _meant_ to be so good and true, and because you made a
+mistake in your blindness and eagerness, you think Him such a harsh,
+unloving Father that all He cares to do is to punish you! Trust Him,
+Tessa! Don’t moan over a loaf of bread forgotten before Him who has love
+enough, and power enough to give you and somebody beside a thousand
+thousand loaves. Do not grieve Him by crying out any longer, ‘Do not
+punish me; I _meant_ to be so good?’”
+
+Tessa’s head kept its position. When she raised it, after a long
+silence, she said: “I will not think so any more; you don’t know what I
+suffered in thinking that He is punishing me.”
+
+“‘How is it that ye do not understand?’”
+
+“Because I think about my own troubles and not of what He is teaching
+me,” said Tessa humbly.
+
+
+
+
+XI.—ON THE HIGHWAY.
+
+
+In June, Tessa gathered roses for Miss Jewett, and every evening filled
+the tall glass vase with white roses for the tea-table; in June,
+Dunellen Institute closed for the season and Dinah was graduated;
+henceforth she would be a young lady of leisure, or a young lady seeking
+a vocation. In June, Mrs. Wadsworth scolded Tessa for “taking it so
+coolly about the dreadful thing that had come upon young Harrison.”
+
+“How many times have you called to see Laura since her poor brother has
+been so poorly?”
+
+“I have called every two days,” answered Tessa in her quietest tones.
+
+“Oh, you have! Why didn’t you say so? You are so still that people think
+you do nothing but pick roses. Anxious as I am, you might have told me
+how he was getting on. How was he yesterday?”
+
+“Comfortable.”
+
+“Did you see him?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Was he sitting up?”
+
+“Yes, he had been sitting up half an hour.”
+
+“How does he look?”
+
+“His eyes are deep in his head, his voice is as weak as a child’s, he
+burst into tears because Laura did not come when he touched his bell for
+her.”
+
+“Was he cheerful?”
+
+“He smiled and talked.”
+
+“Are you going to-day?”
+
+“Yes; Dr. Lake will call for me about five.”
+
+“You and Dr. Lake are getting to be great friends.”
+
+“Are we?”
+
+“Do you know what he says about Felix?”
+
+“He can say nothing but that he may never be himself again.”
+
+“Yes, he did; but you mustn’t repeat it; promise me.”
+
+“There is no need for me to promise.”
+
+“He said that his mind will grow weaker and weaker. Do you know that he
+has been having _fits_ for two years?”
+
+“Yes, I am aware of it.”
+
+“Isn’t it a dreadful, horrible thing? But he always was a little wild
+and queer, not quite like other folks. I was sure that he would die; he
+may yet, he may have a relapse. I should think that they would rather
+have him dead than grow silly. I suppose that Laura will never be
+married now; he will never be fit to be left alone. His father can marry
+though, and that would leave her free. I never object to second
+marriages, do you?”
+
+“That depends upon several things.”
+
+“My father was married three times. I had two stepmothers, and might
+have had four if he had lived longer. Some people think, but I never
+did, that an engagement is as good as a marriage, do you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Of course, I knew that you would think so. But I never had any
+high-flown ideas about engagements. I was engaged to John Gesner—your
+father doesn’t know it to this day—he has high and mighty ideas about
+things like you. _You_ ought to have some feeling about Felix Harrison,
+then, for he always wanted you. Professional men are always poor; Dr.
+Lake is not much of a ‘catch.’”
+
+“I think he is—or will be—to the woman who can appreciate him.”
+
+“I beseech you don’t you go to appreciate him.”
+
+“I do now—sufficiently,” she answered, smiling.
+
+Two weeks later, having seen Felix several times during the interval,
+Dine brought her a letter late in the afternoon.
+
+Felix always had written her name in full, saying that it was prettier
+than the one that she had given herself in baby-days; the penmanship
+appeared like a child’s imitation of his bold strokes.
+
+Not daring and not caring to open it immediately, she put on her hat and
+went out to walk far past the end of the planks down into the green
+country. She thought that she knew every tree and every field all the
+long way to the Harrison Homestead.
+
+Opening the letter at last, she read:
+
+“My Friend,—I suppose you know all the truth. I wrung it out of Dr.
+Greyson to-day after you left me. You may have known it all the time.
+Father has known it, but not Laura. I shall never be what I once was; I
+know it better than any physician can tell me. If I live to forget every
+thing else (and I may), I think that I shall never forget that night.
+But I shall not let my mind go without a struggle; I shall read, I shall
+write, I shall travel, when I am able. I have been reading Macaulay
+to-day. I shall be a burden to father and Laura, and to any who may
+nurse me for wages. But I shall not be a burden to you. I know that you
+meant that _you_ would never break our covenant, when you said:
+‘Promises are made to be kept,’ but _I_ will break it. I am breaking it
+now. You did belong to me when you last said good-by and laid your
+young, strong hand over my poor fingers; but you do not belong to me as
+you read this. As I can not know the exact moment when you read it, I
+can never know when you cease to belong to me. Laura and father intend
+to take me away; do not come to me until I return. No one knows. In all
+my ravings, I never spoke your name; it was on my mind that I had
+promised not to speak of it, and I never once forgot. But your presence
+was in every wild and horrible dream; you were being scalped and drowned
+and burned alive, and often and often you sat beside me holding my hand;
+many many times you came to me and said, ‘I will keep my word,’ but
+something took you away; you never went of your own accord. I have asked
+them all what I raved about and every name that I spoke, but no one has
+answered ‘Tessa.’ Write to me this once, and never again, and tell me
+that you agree, that you are willing to break the bond that held us
+together such a little while. I am a man, and a selfish one at that,
+therefore I rejoice that you _were_ mine. You can have but one answer to
+give. I will not accept any devotion from you that may hinder your
+becoming the happy wife of a good man. Do not be too sorry for me. Laura
+will expect you to write to her, but I pray you, do not write; I should
+look for your letters and they would take away the little fortitude I
+have. Be a good girl; love somebody by and by. You have burned a great
+many letters that I have written. This is the last.”
+
+ “F. W. H.”
+
+Again and again she read it, pausing over each simple, full utterance.
+He could never say to her again, “You have spoiled my life.” She had
+done her best to atone for the sorrow that she had so unwittingly caused
+him, and it had not been accepted by Him who had planned all her life.
+There was nothing more for her to do. The letter was like him. She
+remembered his kindly, gracious ways; his eagerness to be kind to her,
+how he would sit or stand near her to watch her as she talked or worked;
+how timidly he would touch her dress or her hand; how his face would
+change if she chanced to look up at him; how his pale green eyes would
+glitter when she preferred the society of Gus Hammerton or any other of
+the Dunellen boys, ever so long ago, as they were boys and girls
+together; almost as long ago as when she was a little girl and he a big
+boy and he would bring her fruit and flowers! On their Saturday
+excursions after nuts or berries or wild flowers, how he would fall
+behind the others when she did and catch her hand if they heard a noise
+in the woods or lost themselves for half a minute among a new clump of
+trees.
+
+In the long, happy weeks that she had passed at the Homestead, in the
+days when his mother was alive, how thoughtful he had been of her
+comfort, how he had tried to please her in work or play! One evening
+after they had all been sitting together on the porch and telling
+stories, she had heard his mother say to his father: “Tessa has great
+influence over Felix, I hope that she will marry him.”
+
+“I won’t,” her rebellious little heart had replied. And at bedtime she
+had told Laura that she meant to marry a beautiful young man with dark
+eyes who must know every thing and wear a cloak. “And Felix has light
+eyes,” she had added.
+
+She laughed and then sighed over the foolish, innocent days when
+girlhood and womanhood had meant only wonderful good times like the good
+times in fairy tales and Bible stories.
+
+Then for the last time she read his letter and tore it into morsels,
+scattering them hither and thither as she walked.
+
+She had done all she could do; he could not keep hold of her hand any
+longer.
+
+The last bit of paper fluttered on the air; she gave a long look towards
+the dear old Homestead; she could see the spires of the two churches at
+Mayfield, the brass rooster on the school-house where Felix had taught,
+and then she turned homeward to write the letter that would release him
+from the covenant whose keeping had been made impossible to them. As she
+turned, the noise of wheels was before her, the dust of travel in her
+face; she lifted her eyes in time to return a bow from Ralph Towne and
+to feel the smile that lighted the face of the white-haired lady at his
+side.
+
+In the dusk she came down-stairs, dressed for a walk, with several
+letters in her hand.
+
+“Whither does fancy lead you, daughter?” her father asked as she was
+passing through the sitting-room. He was lying upon the lounge with a
+heavy shawl thrown over him; his voice came quick and sharp as though he
+were in pain.
+
+She moved towards him instantly. “Why, father, are you sick?”
+
+“No, dear, not—now,” catching his breath. “I have been in pain and it
+has worn upon me. Greyson gave me something to carry with me some time
+ago, I have taken it three times to-day and now I shall go to sleep?”
+
+“Are you _sure_ you feel better?” she asked caressing the hand that he
+held out to her. “Let me stay and do something for you.”
+
+“No. I must go to sleep. Run along. I have sent your mother away, and
+now I send you away.”
+
+She lingered a moment, stooping to kiss the bald forehead and then the
+plump hand.
+
+Her father was very happy to-night, for her mother, of her own accord,
+for the first time in fifteen years, had kissed him.
+
+He held Tessa’s hand thinking that he would tell her, then he decided
+that the thought of those fifteen years would hurt her too sorely.
+
+“I thought that you meant to tell me something,” she said.
+
+“No; run along.”
+
+Along the planks, along the pavement, across the Park, she walked
+slowly, in the summer starlight, with the letters in her hand.
+
+ “Star light! Star bright!
+ I wish I may, I wish I might,
+ See somebody I want to see to-night.”
+
+A child’s voice was chanting the words in a dreamy recitative.
+
+“Dear child,” sighed Tessa, with her five and twenty years tugging at
+her heart.
+
+She longed for a sight of Miss Jewett’s untroubled face to-night; if she
+might only tell her about the right thing that she had tried to do and
+how the power to do it had been taken from her!
+
+But no one could comfort her concerning it; not her father, not Miss
+Jewett, not Ralph Towne, not Gus Hammerton, not Felix!
+
+One glance up into the sky over the trees in the Park helped her more
+than any human comforting. It was a new experience to have outgrown
+human comforting; she thought that she had outgrown it that day—the last
+day of the year; still she must see Miss Jewett; it would be a rest to
+hear some one talk who did not know about Felix or that other time that
+the sunshiny eyes had brought to life again. Would they meet as
+heretofore? Must they meet socially upon the street or at church?
+
+If it might have been that he might remain away for years and
+years—until she had wholly forgotten or did not care!
+
+Miss Jewett was almost alone; there was no one with her but Sue Greyson
+tossing over neckties to find a white one with fringe.
+
+Through the silks there shone on the first finger of Sue’s left hand the
+sparkle of a diamond; she colored and smiled, then laughed and held her
+finger up for Tessa’s inspection.
+
+“Guess who gave it to me,” she said defiantly.
+
+It could not be Dr. Lake—Tessa would not speak his name; it must be her
+father—but no, Sue would not blush as she was blushing now; it could not
+be Mr. Gesner! Tessa’s heart quickened, she was angry with herself for
+thinking of Mr. Gesner. Mr. Towne! But that was not possible.
+
+“Can’t you guess?” Sue was enjoying her confusion.
+
+“No. I can’t guess.”
+
+“Say the Man in the Moon. I as much expected it. It’s from Stacey! I
+knew you would be confounded. Wasn’t I sly about it? We are to be
+married the first day of October. We settled on that because it is
+Stacey’s birthday! It is Dr. Lake’s too. Isn’t it comical. Stacey is
+twenty-three and the doctor is twenty-nine! Stacey is a year younger
+than I. I wish that he wasn’t. I think that I shall change my age in the
+Bible. When I told Dr. Lake, he said that I seemed inclined to change
+some other things in the Bible. Don’t you tell, either of you. It’s a
+profound secret. Wasn’t father hopping, though? But I told him that I
+would elope if he didn’t consent like a good papa; and now since
+Stacey’s salary is raised he hasn’t a bit of an excuse for being ugly
+about it. I am going to have all the new furniture, too; I bargained for
+that. Won’t it be queer for me to live so far away? Stacey is in a lace
+house in Philadelphia, don’t you remember? You ought to see the white
+lace sacque that he brought me for an engagement present; it’s too
+lovely for any thing. Why, Tessa, you look stunned, are you speechless?
+Don’t you relish the idea of my being married before you? You ought to
+have seen Dr. Lake when I showed my ring to him! He turned as white as a
+sheet and trembled so that he had to sit down; all he said was, ‘May God
+forgive you.’ Don’t you think that it was wicked in him to say that? I
+told him that it sounded like swearing. Yes, I’ll take this one, please.
+And, oh, Tessa, I want you to help me to buy things. I am to have a
+dozen of every thing. I shall be married in white silk; I told father
+that he would never have another daughter married so that he might as
+well open his long purse. We shall go to the White Mountains on our
+wedding tour. It’s late in the season, of course, but I always wanted to
+go to the White Mountains and I will if we are both frozen to death. I
+know that you are angry with me, but I can’t help it. You are just the
+one to believe in love. I have always liked Stacey; he has just
+beautiful hands, and his manners are really touching. You ought to see
+him lift his hat; Mr. Towne is nowhere.”
+
+“What will your father do?” asked Miss Jewett.
+
+“Oh, Aunt Jane must come back, she hasn’t captivated the widower yet; or
+he might get married himself. I think that I’ll suggest it. _Wouldn’t_
+it be fun to have a double wedding? I’ll let father be married first;
+Stacey and I will stand up with them.”
+
+Sue went off into a long, loud peal of laughter; Miss Jewett smiled;
+Tessa spoke gravely: “Sue, your mother would not like to hear that.”
+
+“Oh, bother! She doesn’t think of me. I want some silks, too, please. I
+shall have to make Stacey a pair of slippers and a lot of other pretty
+things. And oh, Tessa, I haven’t told you the news! The queerest thing!
+Dr. Towne—we must call him that now—has bought that handsome brick house
+opposite the Park and is going into practice. Dr. Lake says that of
+course people will run after _him_ while they would let him starve!”
+
+“Then he’ll smell of medicine, too,” Tessa could not forbear suggesting.
+
+“Yes, and have bottles in all his pockets. I’m going to see your mother;
+she cares more about dress than you and Dine put together. If your
+father should die, she would be married before either of you. I won’t
+come if you look so cross at me.”
+
+At that moment Mr. Hammerton pushed open the door; he had come for
+gloves and handkerchiefs. Tessa selected them for him and would then
+have waited for her word with Miss Jewett, had not one of the clerks
+returned from supper.
+
+“Come, Lady Blue, I am going your way.”
+
+“Father is not well to-night; he will not play chess.”
+
+“I am going all the same, however; you shall play with me, and Dine
+shall read the ‘Nut Brown Maid.’”
+
+As they were crossing the Park, they met Dr. Lake; he was walking
+hurriedly; she could not see his face.
+
+“What do you think Lake said to me last night? We were talking—rather,
+he was—about trouble. He has seen a good deal of it one time and another
+I imagine; his nerves are so raw that every thing hurts. For want of
+something to suit him in my own experience, I quoted a thought of
+Charles Kingsley’s. He turned upon me as if I had struck him—‘A man in a
+book said that.’ A man in a book _did_ say it, so I had nothing to say.
+Something is troubling you, what is it?”
+
+“More than one something is troubling me. I just heard a bit of news.”
+
+“Not good news?”
+
+“I can not see any good.”
+
+He repeated in a hurried tone:
+
+ “‘Good tidings every day;
+ God’s messengers ride fast.
+ We do not hear one half they say,
+ There is such noise on the highway
+ Where we must wait while they ride past.’”
+
+“Perhaps I do not hear one half they say this time; the half I do hear
+is troublesome enough. Some day, when I may begin ‘five and fifty years
+ago,’ I will tell you a story.”
+
+“Will it take so long for me to become worthy to hear it?”
+
+“I wish I _might_ tell you; you always help me,” she said impulsively.
+
+“Is there a hindrance?”
+
+“It is too near to be spoken of.”
+
+She was not in the mood for chess, but her father brightened at Mr.
+Hammerton’s entrance, arose, threw off the shawl, and came to the table,
+saying that he would watch her moves. He seated himself close to her,
+with an arm across the back of her chair, once or twice bringing his
+head down to the chestnut braids.
+
+“How alike you are!” exclaimed Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“Yes, I am very pretty,” replied Mr. Wadsworth, seriously.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth had taken her work over to Mrs. Bird for a consultation
+thereupon; Dine fell asleep, resting her curly head on the book that Mr.
+Hammerton had brought her.
+
+When Mr. Hammerton arose, Mr. Wadsworth went to the door with him to
+look out into the night; Tessa said good night and went up-stairs; the
+sleepy head upon the book did not stir.
+
+“I never can find a constellation,” remarked Mr. Wadsworth. “Tessa is
+always laughing at me.”
+
+“Step out and see if I can help you.”
+
+They moved to the end of the piazza leaving the door wide open; the
+sleepy brown eyes opened with a start—was she listening to words that
+she should not hear?
+
+Mr. Hammerton had surely said “Dinah.” And now her father was saying—was
+she dreaming still?—“Take her, and God bless you both. I have nothing
+better to hope for my darling. She will make you a good wife.”
+
+“Let it remain a secret I want her to love me without any urging. She
+must love me because I am necessary to her and not merely because I love
+her.”
+
+Could Tessa have heard his voice, she would never again have accused him
+of coldness.
+
+“I shall have to wait—I expect an increase of salary. I am not sure that
+she thinks of me otherwise than as a grown-up brother—but I will bide my
+time. I know this—at least I think I do—that she does not care for any
+one else.”
+
+“I am sure of that,” said her father’s voice. “You do not know how you
+have taken a burden from me, my son! I have _hoped_ for this.” Startled
+little Dinah arose and fled.
+
+She would never tell, no, not even Tessa; but how could she behave
+towards him as if she did not know?
+
+“Tessa, did you ever have a secret to keep?”
+
+“Yes. Laura told me once that she had a gold dollar and I’ve never told
+until this minute.”
+
+“But this is a wonderful, beautiful, happy secret; the wonderfulest and
+beautifulest thing in the world. And I shall never, never tell. You will
+never know until you discover it yourself.”
+
+“I want to know something to be glad of.”
+
+“You will be glad of this. As glad as glad can be. It is rather funny
+that neither of us ever guessed; and you are quick to see things, too.”
+
+“Perhaps I _do_ know, pretty sister.”
+
+“No, you don’t. I should have seen in your manner. Perhaps I dreamed it;
+or perhaps an angel came and told me. It is good enough for an angel to
+tell.”
+
+ “‘Good tidings every day,
+ God’s messengers ride fast.’”
+
+repeated Tessa.
+
+“Tessa,” with her face turned away, “do you like Gus very much?”
+
+“Do I like _you_ very much? I should just as soon think of your asking
+me that.”
+
+“Better than Felix or Mr. Towne or Dr. Lake, or any of the ten thousand
+young men in Dunellen?”
+
+“Why, Dine, what ails you? Are you asking my advice? He hasn’t been
+making love to my little sister, has he?”
+
+“No,” said Dinah, “I wonder if he knows how. Daisy Grey’s father is
+dead. There will have to be a new Greek professor at the Seminary. She
+liked her father.”
+
+
+
+
+XII.—GOOD ENOUGH TO BE TRUE.
+
+
+The afternoon sun was shining down hot on the head of the soldier on his
+tall pedestal in the Park; he stood leaning on his gun, his eyes
+intently peering from under the broad visor of his cap; at his feet a
+group of children were playing soldiers marching to the war; at the
+pump, several yards distant, a small boy was pumping for the others to
+drink, a tall boy was lifting the rusty dipper to his lips while a
+ragged little girl was wistfully awaiting her turn; nurses in white caps
+were rolling infants’ chaises along the smooth, wide paths; ladies in
+shopping attire were sauntering with brown parcels in their hands;
+half-grown boys were lolling on the green benches with cigars and lazy
+words in their mouths; girls in twos and threes were strolling along
+with linked arms mingling gay talk with gay laughter; in the arbor seven
+little girls and three little boys were playing school: a little boy who
+stammered was trying to spell Con-stan-ti-no-ple, a rosy child in white
+was noisily repeating “Thirty days hath September,” a black-eyed boy was
+shouting “The boy stood on the burning deck,” and a naughty child was
+being vigorously scolded by the teacher, who held a threatening willow
+switch above her head. “You are the dreadfulest child that ever
+breathed,” she was declaring. “You are the essence of stupidity, you are
+the dumbest of the dumb.”
+
+A serious voice arrested the willow switch: “I didn’t like to be scolded
+when I was a little girl, it used to make me cry.”
+
+The willow switch dropped; the various recitations came to a sudden
+pause. “But she is such a dreadful bad girl,” urged the teacher.
+
+Tessa Wadsworth lingered with her reticule, three parcels, a parasol,
+and _Sartor Resartus_ in her hands.
+
+“_You_ come and be teacher and tell us a story,” coaxed the naughty
+child.
+
+But Tessa laughed and moved on, to be stopped, however, by a quick call.
+“Tessa Wadsworth! I declare that you are a pedestrian.”
+
+The voice belonged to a pair of blue eyes, and a slight figure in drab.
+
+“Well, now that you have caught me what will you have?”
+
+“I’ll be satisfied with a walk across the Park. Didn’t you know that I
+was home? Gus said that he would tell you.”
+
+“Have you had a pleasant time?”
+
+“Oh, I always manage to enjoy myself. How is it that you always stay
+poking at home?”
+
+“I seem to have found my niche at home. Every one needs me.”
+
+“Dunellen is a poky little place, but Nan thinks it is splendid.”
+
+“I expect to spend the winter away from home and I don’t want to go. I
+don’t see why I must. Mother has been promising for years that the first
+winter that Dine was out of school I should go for three months, more or
+less, to an old aunt of hers for whom I was named; she has lost all her
+seven boys and lives on a farm down in the country with the dearest old
+husband that ever breathed. If I had such a dear old husband I should
+always want to be alone with him.”
+
+“That sounds just like you. I wanted Naughty Nan to come home with me,
+but she wouldn’t or couldn’t. You can’t think how thin she has grown,
+and she mopes like an old woman. I had to coax her to laugh just once
+for me before I came away. I suppose that I oughtn’t to tell, but I will
+tell you; you are as deep as the sea. You know Dr. Towne?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well it is all _his_ fault,” said Mary Sherwood in a mysterious low
+voice.
+
+“Did he give her something to take outwardly and she took it inwardly?”
+asked Tessa gravely.
+
+“That’s like you, too. You are always laughing at somebody. How he
+flirted with poor little Naughty Nan nobody knows!”
+
+“How she flirted with him, you mean.”
+
+“No, I don’t. She was in earnest this time. He made her presents and
+took her everywhere; he always treated her as if—”
+
+“—She were his mother.”
+
+“I won’t talk to you,” cried Mary indignantly, “you don’t know any thing
+about it. You haven’t seen how white and thin she is! It’s just another
+Sue Greyson affair; and every body talks about how he flirted with her.
+I comforted Nan by saying that he had done the same thing before and
+would again.”
+
+“Did _that_ comfort her?”
+
+“It made her angry. I don’t see how she can mourn over a man with a
+false heart, do you?”
+
+“She would have no occasion to mourn over a man with a true heart.”
+
+“Do you think that he changes his mind?” asked Mary anxiously.
+
+“No, I think that he does not have any mind to change; he has no mind to
+flirt or not to flirt; he simply enjoys himself, not caring for the
+consequences.”
+
+“H’m! What do you call _that_?”
+
+“I do not call it any thing; it would be as well for you not to talk
+about your cousin.”
+
+“So Gus said; I had to tell him. I’m afraid that Nan will die.”
+
+“No, she will not. It will make her bitter, or it will make her true.”
+
+“Nan is so cut because people talk.”
+
+“When is she coming to Dunellen?”
+
+“She wouldn’t come with me! How I did coax her! She will come in
+September. She says that she will stay with me until she is married.”
+
+“Then she doesn’t intend to take the veil because of this?”
+
+“She did say so—seriously—that she would enter a convent—”
+
+“A monastery!” suggested Tessa.
+
+“Where the monks are,” laughed Mary, “I think that would suit her
+better.”
+
+“And believe me—Dr. Towne is not capable of doing a cruel or a mean
+thing—don’t talk to your cousin about him.”
+
+“Oh, me! there he is now coming towards us! On our path, too. I’ll break
+the rules and run across the grass if you will.”
+
+It was certainly Ralph Towne. He was walking slowly with his eyes bent
+upon the ground.
+
+“He looks like a monk himself,” whispered Mary, “he wouldn’t look at us
+for any thing.”
+
+“Halt!” commanded the small military voice near the monument. He turned
+to look at the children; Tessa was close enough to feel the sunshine in
+his eyes although his face was not towards her; he stood watching the
+soldiers as they tramped on at the word of command; her dress brushed
+against him, she could have laid her hand on his arm; lifting her eyes
+with all her grief and disappointment at his indifference she met his
+fully; they were grave and very dark, not one gleam of recognition; how
+greatly he had changed! His eyes appeared larger, not so deep set as she
+remembered them, and there were many, many white threads running through
+his hair. Had Naughty Nan effected all this? With a slight inclination
+of his head he passed on.
+
+“He does look as if he had a ‘mind to do or not do’ something,” said
+Mary! “I hope that he can’t sleep nights. He almost slew me with his
+eyes; I can’t see why such naughty hearts should look through such
+eyes!”
+
+“They don’t,” said Tessa, “a good heart was looking through those eyes.”
+
+“H’m! I believe it!”
+
+Tessa had walked three blocks in a reverie, scolding herself for her
+sympathy with the changed face, trying to feel indignant that he had
+passed her by so coolly, and trying to despise him for so soon
+forgetting what she could never forget, when, lo! there he stood again,
+face to face with her, speaking eagerly, his hand already touching hers.
+
+“Miss Tessa, what has happened to your eyes?”
+
+“Excuse me,” she stammered, “I did not see you.”
+
+“How do you do?” he asked more coolly as she withdrew her hand.
+
+“Did you not just pass me in the Park?”
+
+“I have not crossed the Park to-day.”
+
+“Then I met your ghost.”
+
+“Can you not be a little glad to meet me in the flesh?”
+
+“Mary Sherwood was with me and _she_ recognized you; she saw you before
+I did.”
+
+He laughed the low amused laugh that she had heard so often. “My cousin
+Philip will believe now that he might be my brother—my twin brother—but
+that he appears older than he is. He has come to Dunellen to take a
+professorship. He is to be Greek teacher at the Seminary instead of
+Professor Grey. Philip is a rare linguist; he is a rare scholar. It is
+the Comedy of Errors over again. I suppose that he did not talk to you
+and say that he was glad to see you again.”
+
+“He bowed, he could not but do it. I expect that he thought I recognized
+him, as I certainly did. You will look like him some day, but he will
+never look like you.”
+
+“Your distinction is not flattering. May I ask a kindness of you?”
+
+“Do you need to ask that?” she answered hurriedly.
+
+“My mother is homesick in Dunellen. Will you call upon her?”
+
+She colored, hesitating. After a second, during which she felt his eyes
+upon her, she said, “Yes.”
+
+“Philip’s father and mine were twins; it is not the first time that we
+have been taken for each other. He has a twin sister.”
+
+“And he is like his sister.”
+
+“Yes, he _is_ like his sister. Imagine me teaching Greek or preaching in
+the Park—Phil is a preacher, of course, and an elocutionist. You will
+hear of him; he does not live in a cloister; he is always doing
+something for somebody.”
+
+“He is a _disciplined_ man; I never saw a person to whom that word could
+be so fitly applied.”
+
+“And you never thought of applying it to me.”
+
+“I confess that I never did,” she said laughing.
+
+“You can see a great deal at a glance.”
+
+“That is why I glance.”
+
+“Probably you know that I have come to Dunellen to work.”
+
+“I congratulate Dunellen,” she answered prettily.
+
+“I hope that you may have reason to do so. May I tell my mother that you
+will call?”
+
+“Yes—if you wish,” she said, doubtfully, buttoning a loose button on her
+glove. “Good afternoon, Dr. Towne.”
+
+She passed on at a quickened pace, her cheeks glowing, her eyes alight.
+A stranger, meeting her, turned for a second look. “She has heard good
+news,” he said to himself.
+
+_Had_ she heard good news? She had seen the man that she had so
+foolishly and fondly believed Ralph Towne to be; she had learned that
+she could not create out of the longings of her own heart a man too
+noble and true for God to make out of His heart. Her ideal had not been
+too good to be true; just then it was enough for her to know that her
+ideal existed. Her heart could not break because she was disappointed in
+Ralph Towne, but it would have broken had she found that God did not
+care to make men good and true. And Ralph Towne would become good and
+true some day. And then she would be glad and not ashamed that she had
+trusted in him; she could not be glad and not ashamed yet. She did not
+love the man that could trifle with Sue or flirt with Nan Gerard. She
+had loved the ideal in her heart, and not the soul in his flesh. He
+could not understand that; he would call it a fancy, and say that she
+could make rhyme to it, but that she could not live the poem. Perhaps
+not; if she had loved him she might have lived a different poem; her
+living and loving, her doing and giving, would be a poem, anyway; she
+did not love Ralph Towne to-day, she was only afraid that she did. He
+could not understand the woman who would prefer Philip Towne’s
+saintliness; he was assured that his money would outweigh it with any
+maiden in Dunellen—with any maiden but Tessa Wadsworth; he was beginning
+to understand her. “She did not ask me to call,” he soliloquized. The
+stranger passing him also, gave him also a second glance, but he did not
+say to himself, “He has heard good news.” _Was_ it good news that the
+woman that he had thoughtlessly deceived held herself aloof from him and
+above him?
+
+“She loved me once,” he soliloquized, “and love with her must die a hard
+death.”
+
+How hard a death even Tessa herself could not comprehend; she understood
+years afterward when she said: “I thought once that I never could be as
+glad as I had been sorrowful; but I learned that the power to be glad
+was infinitely greater than the power of being sorrowful.”
+
+That evening her father called her to say: “The new professor is to
+preach Sunday evening before church service in the Park; you and I will
+go to hear him.”
+
+
+
+
+XIII.—THE HEART OF LOVE.
+
+
+The day lilies were in bloom, and that meant August; it meant also that
+her book was written, rewritten, and ready to be copied.
+
+“Oh, that my poor little book were as perfect as you,” she sighed one
+morning as she arranged them with their broad, green leaves for the
+vases in parlor and sitting-room. “But God made you with His own
+fingers, and He made my book through my own fancies.”
+
+She had worked early and late, not flagging, through all the sultry
+days. “You will make yourself sick,” her mother had warned, “and it will
+cost you all you earn to buy beef tea and pay the doctor; so where is
+the good of it?”
+
+She had read her manuscript aloud to her father, and he had laughed and
+wiped his eyes and given sundry appreciative exclamations.
+
+“That writing takes a precious sight of time,” her mother had
+remonstrated.
+
+“That is because I am human.” Tessa had answered soberly.
+
+“Suppose it is refused.”
+
+“Then I’ll be like William Howitt; his book was refused four times and
+he stood on London bridge ready to toss it over. I do not think that I
+will do as Charlotte Bronte did; she sent a rejected manuscript to a
+publisher wrapped in the wrapper in which the first publisher had rolled
+it. I suppose that his address was printed on it.”
+
+She had run on merrily as she had placed the cool, pure lilies in the
+vase; but her heart was sinking, nevertheless. It had always taken so
+little to exhilarate or depress her.
+
+“Must you write to-day?” inquired her mother one morning in an
+unsatisfied tone.
+
+“Several hours.”
+
+“I wanted you to make calls with me and to help me with the currant
+jelly and to put those button-holes into my linen wrapper.”
+
+“I can do it all, but I must write while I am fresh.”
+
+The first hour she wrote wearily; then she lost the small struggles in
+her own life and became comforted through the comfort wherewith she
+comforted others. Not one thing was forgotten, not one household duty
+shirked, the jelly was made to perfection, the button-holes worked while
+her mother was taking her afternoon nap, the calls were pushed through,
+and then Mrs. Wadsworth proposed a call upon Mrs. Towne.
+
+“I promised your Aunt Dinah that I would call.”
+
+Tessa demurred although she remembered her promise; she much preferred
+calling some time when Aunt Dinah should be with her; Mrs. Wadsworth
+insisted and Tessa yielded more graciously in manner than in mind.
+
+Mrs. Towne received them most cordially and gracefully; an expression
+flitted over her eyes as Tessa looked up into them that she never
+forgot; it touched her as Dr. Lake’s eyes did, sometimes; what could
+this beautiful old mother need in her? Whatever it might be, she felt
+fully prepared to give it.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth was as effusively talkative as usual; Tessa replied when
+spoken to; lively, fussy, pretty little Mrs. Wadsworth did not compare
+to her own advantage with her womanly daughter. Mrs. Towne looked at
+Tessa and thought of the picture that she had seen; it was certainly
+excellent only that the picture was rather too intellectual; in the
+picture she might have written “Mechanism of the Heavens” but sitting
+there in the crimson velvet chair with a pale blue bow among her braids
+and her soft gray veil shading her cheek she was more like the daughter
+that she had ever dreamed of—simple, sweet, and thoroughly lovable Mrs.
+Towne was a trifle afraid of a woman who looked _too_ intellectual.
+Would she forgive Ralph and trust him again? She was sure that she would
+until Tessa unbuttoned her glove and drew it off; the slight, strong
+hand was a revelation; the girl had a will of her own. But might not her
+will be towards him? “I wish that I knew nothing,” thought the mother,
+“the suspense will weary me, the disappointment will be nearly as much
+for me as for the boy.”
+
+Meanwhile, unconscious Tessa, with the glove in her fingers, was far
+away in the Milan cathedral on the wall opposite her, looking into the
+arches of the choir, feeling the sunlight through the glimmering painted
+windows, thinking about the procession of the scarlet-robed priests, and
+wondering about the hidden chancel; if the picture were upon her wall
+how it would glow and become alive in the western light, the drooping
+banners would stir with the breath of the evening, the censers would
+swing and the notes of the organ would bear her up and away. Away!
+Where? Was not all her world in this little Dunellen?
+
+“My son is always busy; he rushes into every thing that he undertakes.”
+
+The mother had a voice like the son’s; the soul of sincerity was in it;
+the sincere, sympathetic voice, the rush of feeling, love, regret, and
+sense of loss that it brought filled her eyes too full to be raised. At
+that instant Mrs. Towne was observing her; her heart grew lighter,
+hoping for the thing that might be.
+
+Mrs. Towne held Tessa’s hand at parting. “I am an old woman, so I may
+ask a favor of a young one, will you come soon again?”
+
+“Thank you, yes.”
+
+“And often?”
+
+Then she had to promise again. Dr. Towne was seldom at home; she thought
+of this when she promised. She was thinking of it that evening in the
+early twilight as she weeded among her pansies. Dine said that it was a
+wonder that she had not turned into a pansy herself by this time.
+
+“Daughter, why do you sigh?”
+
+Her father was seated in a rustic chair on the piazza with a copy of
+_Burns_ unopened upon his knee; he had left the store earlier than usual
+that afternoon, complaining of the old pain in his side.
+
+“My sigh must be very loud or your ears very sharp,” she replied,
+lifting her head. “I will bring you some perfect pansies.”
+
+He took them and looked down at them; she stood at his side smoothing
+the straggling locks on his bald forehead with her perfumed, soiled
+fingers. “I think that if I knew nothing about God but that He made
+pansies, I should love Him for that,” she said at last.
+
+“Is _that_ what you were sighing over?”
+
+“The sigh came out of the heart of the pansy. I wish I knew how to love
+somebody.”
+
+“Is that what you were sighing over?”
+
+“I do not know how,” rubbing the soil from her fingers, “to love when I
+lose faith. I do not know how and it worries me.”
+
+“You mean that you do not know how to honor and trust when you lose
+faith. Are you so far on the journey of life as that? Must I
+congratulate you, daughter?”
+
+“No; teach me.”
+
+“No human teaching can teach you to love where you have lost faith.”
+
+“Well; nobody asks me to!”
+
+“If any body ever does, look at your own failings; that pulls me
+through.”
+
+“I understand that,” still speaking in a troubled voice, “but all the
+love and patience do no good; people do not change because we love
+them.”
+
+“No, they do not change, but _we_ change.”
+
+“That is not enough for me; I am not satisfied with the blessing of
+giving, I want the other somebody to have the blessing of receiving.”
+
+“We do not know the end.”
+
+“You two people do find queer things to talk about,” cried a lively
+voice behind them. “If I knew what mystical meant, I should say that it
+was you and Tessa. Don’t you want to hear all about Mrs. Towne, and what
+a _lovely_ room we were taken into?”
+
+“Yes, dear, and how her hair was fixed and just how she was dressed.”
+
+Tessa ran back to her pansies; Mrs. Wadsworth had found a theme to
+enlarge upon for the next half hour. As Tessa worked among the flowers,
+a poem that she had learned that day while making the button-holes sang
+itself through and through her heart.
+
+ “Oh the hurt and the hurt and the hurt of love!
+ Wherever the sun shines, the waters go,
+ It hurts the snowdrop, it hurts the dove,
+ God on His throne, and man below.
+ But sun would not shine nor waters go,
+ Snowdrop tremble nor fair dove moan,
+ God be on high, nor man below,
+ But for love—the love with its hurt alone.
+ Thou knowest, O, Saviour, its hurt and its sorrows,
+ Didst rescue its joy by the might of Thy pain;
+ Lord of all yesterdays, days, and to-morrows,
+ Help us love on in the hope of Thy gain!
+ Hurt as it may, love on, love forever;
+ Love for love’s sake like the Father above,
+ But for whose brave-hearted Son we had never
+ Known the sweet hurt of the sorrowful love.”
+
+“I am not sincere in repeating that,” she mused. “I _don’t_ love on,
+love forever—and I don’t want to! If I were in a book, every thing would
+make no difference, nothing would make a difference—would love on, love
+forever—and I don’t know how. I wish I did. It would not change _him_,
+but it would make _me_ very glad and very good! I can not attain to it.”
+
+The grazing sound of wheels brought her back to the pansies, then to Dr.
+Lake; he had driven up close to the opening in the lilac shrubbery.
+
+“Ah, Mystic.”
+
+“Good evening, doctor.”
+
+It was the first time that they had been alone together since Sue’s
+engagement. She had been dreading this first time. She arose and brushed
+her hands against each other, moving towards the opening in the lilacs.
+
+“I saw you, and could not resist the temptation of stopping to speak to
+you.”
+
+“Thank you,” she said warmly. “Will you have a lily?”
+
+“No, lilies are not for me. Briers and thorns grow for me.”
+
+“Where are you riding to now?”
+
+“Felix Harrison came home yesterday worse than ever. I was there in the
+night and am going again. Why don’t he die now that he has a chance?
+Catch me throwing away such an opportunity.”
+
+“I hope that you will never have such an opportunity,” she answered, not
+thinking of what she was saying.
+
+“That’s always the way; the lucky ones die, the unlucky ones live.”
+
+“Can you not resist the temptation to tell me any thing so trite as
+that?”
+
+“Don’t be sharp, Mystic.”
+
+She was leaning against the low fence, her hands folded over each other,
+a breath of air stirring the wavy hair around her temples, and touching
+the pale blue ribbon at her throat, a white, graceful figure, speaking
+in her animated way with the flush of the pink rose tinting her cheeks
+and a misty veil shadowing her eyes.
+
+“A very pretty picture in a frame-work of brown and green,” thought the
+old man in the rustic chair on the piazza.
+
+But she never thought of making a picture of herself, she left such
+small coquetries to girls who had nothing better to do or to think of.
+She had her life to live and her books to write! Nevertheless two pairs
+of eyes found her pleasant to look upon. Dr. Lake’s experiences had
+opened his eyes to see that Tessa Wadsworth was unlike any woman that he
+had ever known; she was to him the calm of the moonlight, the fragrance
+of the spring, and the restfulness of trust.
+
+In these weeks of his trouble, had she been like some other of the
+Dunellen girls, she would have found her way without pushing into his
+heart by the wide door that shallow Sue had left ajar.
+
+His heart was open to any attractive woman who would sympathize with
+him; to any woman who would be glad of what Sue Greyson had thrown away;
+she might have become aware of this but for her instinctive habit of
+looking upward to love; even the tenderest compassion mingled with some
+admiration could not grow into love with her in her present moods; she
+was too young and asked too much of life for such a possibility.
+
+In these days every man was too far below George Macdonald and Frederick
+Robertson, unless indeed it might be the new Greek professor; in her
+secret heart she had begun to wonder if Philip Towne were not something
+like them both; perhaps because in his sermon that Sunday twilight in
+the Park he had quoted a “declaration of Robertson’s”—“I am better
+acquainted with Jesus Christ than I am with any man on earth.”
+
+The words came to her as she stood, to-night, talking with Dr Lake; she
+was wishing that she might repeat them to him; instead she only replied,
+“Why shouldn’t I be sharp? You are a man and therefore able to bear it.”
+
+“Not much of a man—or wholly a man. I reckon that is nearer right. I
+never saw a man yet that a blow from a woman’s little finger wouldn’t
+knock him over.”
+
+“Not any woman’s finger.”
+
+“Any thing would blow me over to-night. Why do women have to make so
+many things when they are married?” he asked earnestly.
+
+“To keep the love they have won,” she said with a mischievous laugh.
+“Don’t you know how soon roses fade after they are rudely torn from the
+protection and nourishment of the parent stem?”
+
+“Rudely! They flutter, they pant, they struggle to tear themselves
+loose! Why do you suppose that she prefers Stacey to me?”
+
+“I don’t know all things.”
+
+“You know that. Answer.”
+
+“She does not prefer _him_. He is the smallest part of her calculations.
+Marriage with you would make no change in her life; she seeks change;
+she has never been married and lived in Philadelphia—therefore to be
+married and live in Philadelphia must be glorious.”
+
+“Then if I had money to take her anywhere and everywhere she would have
+married me. I’ll turn highwayman to get rich then. She shows me every
+pretty thing she makes; dresses up in all her new dresses and asks me if
+I feel like the bridegroom lends me her engagement ring when she is
+tired of it. I’d bite it in two if I dared—reads me his letters and asks
+me to help her answer them for she can only write a page and a half out
+of her own head.”
+
+Tessa laughed; it was better to laugh than to be angry, and Sue could
+not be any body but Sue Greyson.
+
+“She says that her only objection to him is his name and age; she likes
+my name better, and scribbles Sue Greyson Lake over his old envelopes. I
+would like to send him one of them. I was reading in the paper this
+morning of a man who shot the girl that refused him; if I don’t shoot
+her it will not be her fault, she is driving me mad. If I can’t have her
+myself, _he_ sha’n’t!”
+
+She dropped her hands and turned away from him.
+
+“Mystic.” But she was among the pansies again.
+
+“Mystic,” with the tone in his voice that she would never forget, “come
+back. Don’t _you_ throw me over; I shall go to destruction if you do.”
+
+“I can not help you. You do not try to help yourself.”
+
+“I know it. I don’t want to be helped. I drift. I have no will to
+struggle. She plays with me like a cat with a mouse. I do not know what
+I am about half the time. I will take a double dose of morphine some
+night. I wonder if she would cry if she saw me dead. Men have done such
+things with less provocation; men of my temperament, too. Would _you_ be
+sorry, Mystic?”
+
+She stretched out her hands to take his hand in both hers: “Don’t talk
+so,” she said brokenly. “You know you do not mean it; why can’t you be
+brave and good? I didn’t know that men were so weak.”
+
+“I _am_ weak—I have strayed, I have wandered away—but I can go back.”
+
+Long afterward she remembered these words; they, with his last “good-by,
+Mystic,” were all that she cared to remember among all the words that he
+had ever spoken to her.
+
+She did not speak; she moved her fingers caressingly over his hand,
+thinking how pliant and feminine, how characteristic, it was.
+
+“I know a woman’s heart,” he ran on lightly; “she is not a sacred
+mystery to me, as the fellows say in books. I dissected an old negro
+woman’s heart once; she died of enlargement of the heart, so that it was
+as much a study as the largest heart of her kind. Sue is going out
+to-night with Towne and his mother—it’s a pity that _he_ wouldn’t step
+in now—she might let us all have a fair fight, and old Gesner, too, with
+his simpering voice! She would take Gesner only he doesn’t propose.
+‘Thirty days hath September.’ I wish it had thirty thousand. When I was
+a youngster, and got a beating for not learning that, I little thought
+that one day I _would_ learn it and count the days every night. Oh, that
+rare and radiant first of October! Do you know,” bending forward and
+lowering his tone, “that she is more than half inclined to throw him
+over?”
+
+“She is never more than half inclined to do anything,” answered Tessa
+indignantly. “I wish that he were here to keep her out of mischief. Why
+do you stay so much with her? Surely you have business enough to keep
+you out of her presence.”
+
+He laughed excitedly. “Keep a starving man away from bread when he has
+only to stretch out his hand and snatch it.”
+
+“You have found that your doll is stuffed with sawdust, can’t you toss
+it aside?”
+
+“I love sawdust,” he answered, comically.
+
+“Then I’m ashamed of you.”
+
+“You haven’t seen other men tried.”
+
+“It is no honor to you to be thinking of her under existing
+circumstances.”
+
+“I would run away with her to-night if she would run with me.”
+
+“Then I despise you.”
+
+“You love like a woman, Mystic; I love like a man.”
+
+“I hope that no man will ever dishonor himself or dishonor me with love
+like that.”
+
+As he stooped to pick up his glove, his breath swept her cheek; she
+started, almost exclaiming as she drew back, flushed and bewildered. He
+colored angrily, then laughed an excited, reckless laugh, and gathered
+the reins which had been hanging loose.
+
+“Dr. Lake,” in a hurried, tremulous voice, “please don’t do that. Oh,
+why must you? Why can’t you be brave?” Her voice was choking with tears.
+“I did not _think_ such a thing of you.”
+
+“Of course you didn’t! But I will not do it again—I really will not. I
+am half mad as I told you. Good night, Mystic.”
+
+“Good night,” she said sadly.
+
+He held the reins still lingering.
+
+“Will you ride with me again some day?”
+
+“No, I don’t like to hear you talk.”
+
+Again she went back to her pansies; the innocent pansies with their
+faint, pure breath were more congenial. As he drove under the maples, he
+muttered words that would have startled her as much as his tainted
+breath.
+
+“Do you like it in this world, little pansies?” she sighed.
+
+Her father laid his book within a window on the sill, and came down to
+her to talk about the buds of the day-lilies; her mother fanned herself
+with a palm-leaf fan and complained of the heat; Dinah ran down-stairs,
+fresh and airy in green muslin with a scarlet geranium among her curls,
+and after standing still to ask if she looked pretty, ran across to the
+planks to walk up and down with Norah Bird with their arms linked and
+their heads close together.
+
+Tessa sighed again, remembering the old confidential talks with Laura
+when they both cared for the same things before she had outgrown Laura.
+There were so many things in her world to be sighed about to-night; the
+thought of Felix threw all her life into shadow; Norah and Dinah were
+laughing over some silly thing, and her mother was vigorously waving the
+fan and vigorously fretting at the heat and the dust in this same hour
+in which Felix—her bright, good Felix—was moaning out his feeble
+strength. She had not dared to ask Dr. Lake how he was; what comfort
+would it be to know that he was a little better or a little worse? How
+could she talk to him of her busy life and take him a copy of her book?
+She was counting the days, also; for in October her book would surely be
+out.
+
+“You think more of that than you would of being married,” Dinah had said
+that day.
+
+“So I do—than to be married to any one I know.”
+
+“Do you expect to find somebody _new_?”
+
+“Perhaps I do not expect to find any one at all,” she had answered.
+
+“Oh, don’t be so dreary,” laughed Dinah.
+
+_Was_ that dreary? Once it might have seemed dreary; a year ago with
+what a smiting pain she would have echoed the word, but it was not a
+dreary prospect to-night as she stood with her father’s arm about her.
+
+A new thing had happened to disturb her; Dinah was becoming shy and
+constrained in the presence of Mr. Hammerton; last summer she would run
+out to meet him, hang on his arm and chatter like a magpie; this summer
+she would oftener avoid him than move forward to greet him; this
+shamefacedness was altogether new and very becoming, yet the elder
+sister did not like it. There was no change in Mr. Hammerton, why should
+there be change in Dinah or in herself? He came no oftener than he had
+come last summer, he manifested no preference, sometimes she thought
+that this non-manifestation was too studied; gifts were brought to each,
+were it books or flowers. Did poor little Dine care for him, and was she
+so afraid of revealing it? Or, had she decided that it was for _her_
+sake that he came, and did she leave them so often together alone that
+it might be pleasanter for both? More than once or twice when he was
+expected, she had pleaded an engagement with Norah, and had not appeared
+until late in the evening.
+
+“I wonder what’s got Dine,” their mother had remarked, “she seems
+possessed to run away from Gus.”
+
+Their father had looked annoyed and exclaimed, “Nonsense, mother,
+nonsense.”
+
+Tessa’s reverie was ended by Mr. Hammerton’s quick step upon the planks.
+
+“He was here last night,” commented Mrs. Wadsworth as he crossed the
+street.
+
+“Good evening, good people,” he said opening the gate. “You make quite a
+picture! If you had fruit and wine I should rub up my French or Spanish.
+I think that I am not too late; I did not hear until after tea that
+Professor Towne is to read tonight in Association Hall; some of your
+favorites, Lady Blue. Will you go, you and Dine?”
+
+“Oh, yes, indeed; that is just what I want.”
+
+“It is to be selections from ‘Henry V.,’ ‘The High Tide,’ ‘Locksley
+Hall,’ I think, and a few lighter things. You will think that you would
+rather elocute ‘The High Tide’ than even to have written it.”
+
+“That is impossible. Did you tell Dine?”
+
+“No, but I will. It was proper to ask the elder sister was it not?”
+
+“I am not Leah,” said Tessa seriously, “call Rachel.”
+
+“Rachel! Rachel!” he called, beckoning to Dinah. Dinah whistled by way
+of reply and dropped Norah’s arm.
+
+“Have you brought me Mother Goose or a sugar-plum?” she asked lightly.
+“And why do you call me Rachel?”
+
+“Don’t talk nonsense, children,” said Mr. Wadsworth very gravely. The
+color deepened in Mr. Hammerton’s cheeks and forehead as he met the old
+man’s grave eyes. “Mother, let’s you and I go too,” proposed Mr.
+Wadsworth, “we will imagine it to be twenty-seven years ago.”
+
+“I only wish it was,” was the dissatisfied reply.
+
+That evening was an event in Tessa’s quiet life: she heard no sound but
+the reader’s voice, she saw no face but his; she drew a long breath when
+the last words were uttered.
+
+“Was it so good as all that?” whispered Mr. Hammerton. “You shall go to
+the Chapel with me next Sunday and hear him preach about ‘Meditation.’”
+
+Dr. Towne, his mother, and Sue Greyson were seated near them; she did
+not observe the group until she arose to leave the hall.
+
+“Wasn’t it stupid?” muttered Sue, catching at her sleeve. “And isn’t he
+perfectly elegant? Almost as elegant as the doctor.”
+
+“You will not forget your promise?” Mrs. Towne said as Tessa turned
+towards her.
+
+“Has Miss Tessa been making you a promise? She does not know how to
+break her word,” said Dr. Towne.
+
+“You do not need to tell me that; her eyes are promise-keepers.”
+
+Mrs. Towne kept her at her side until they reached the entrance and
+would have detained her until Professor Towne had made his way to them,
+had not Mr. Hammerton understood by the moving of her lips that she was
+not pleased and hurried her away.
+
+“I hope that I shall never become acquainted with Professor Towne,”
+exclaimed Tessa nervously, as Mr. Hammerton drew her hand within his
+arm.
+
+“Why not? I thought that you were wrapped up in him as the young ladies
+say.”
+
+“Suppose I make a hole in him and find him stuffed with sawdust.”
+
+“You could immediately retire into a convent.”
+
+Dinah had mischievously fallen behind with her father and mother.
+
+“Then I could never find my _good_ man?”
+
+“Must you find him or die forlorn?”
+
+For several moments she found no answer: then the words came
+deliberately; “Perhaps I _need_ not; I wonder why I thought there was a
+_must_ in the matter; why may I not be happy and helpful without ending
+as good little girls do in fairy stories? I need not live or die
+forlorn—and yet—Gus, you are the only person in the whole world to whom
+I would confess that I would rather be like the good little girl in the
+fairy story! Please forget it.”
+
+“It is too pleasant to forget,” he answered. “I do not want you to be
+too ambitious or too wise for the good old fashions of wife and mother!”
+
+“How can any woman be that!” she exclaimed indignantly.
+
+“May you never know.”
+
+“What an easy time Eve had! All she had to do was to be led to Adam. She
+would not have chosen him a while afterward; he was altogether too much
+under her influence.”
+
+“That weakness has become a part of our original sin.”
+
+“It isn’t yours,” she retorted.
+
+“Am I so different from other men?” he asked in a constrained voice.
+
+“Most assuredly. I should as soon think of a whole row of encyclopedias
+falling in love.”
+
+Mr. Hammerton was silent, for once repartee failed him.
+
+Suddenly she asked, “Is your imagination a trial to you?”
+
+“Haven’t you often told me that I am stupid as an old geometry.”
+
+“And I hate geometry.”
+
+“You read, you write, you live, you love through your imagination. You
+wrap the person you love in a rosy mist that is the breath of your
+hopeful heart, and you see your hero through that mist. Of course the
+mist fades and you have but the ugly outline—then, without stopping to
+see what God hath wrought, you cry out, ‘Oh, the horrible! the
+dreadful!’ and run away with your fingers in your ears.”
+
+A few silent steps, then she said, “I deserve that. It is all true. Why
+did you not tell me before?”
+
+“I left it to time and common sense.”
+
+“It will take a great deal of both to make me sensible,” she answered
+humbly, and then added, “if suffering would root out my fancies—but I am
+like the child that tumbles and tumbles, and then tumbles again. I need
+to be guided by such a steady hand. Sometimes I do long so for somebody
+to do me good.”
+
+Her companion’s silence might be sympathetic; as such she interpreted
+it, or she could not have said what she never ceased wondering at
+herself for saying—“I am not disappointed in love; but I _am_
+disappointed in loving. I thought that love was once and forever. Poets
+say so.”
+
+“Yes, but we do not know how they live their poetry.”
+
+“I know that my poetry fails me when extremity comes.”
+
+“Has the extremity come?”
+
+“Yes,” she said bravely.
+
+“And that is another thing that I am not to know.”
+
+“Not for five and fifty years. I will pigeon-hole all my experiences for
+you—if there is no one to object on my side or yours.”
+
+“What about the reading? Was it all that you expected?”
+
+“Wait a minute; call Dine before we talk it over.”
+
+They had outwalked the others; Mr. Hammerton’s strides would not be
+pleasant to keep pace with in the long walk of life, as Dinah had once
+told him. It was a truth that no one recognized so well as himself, that
+he lacked the power of adaptation; he was too tall or too short, too
+broad or too narrow, too crooked or too straight for any niche in
+Dunellen, but the one that he had found in his boyhood by the snug, safe
+corner in the home where Dinah was growing up to entangle herself in his
+heart, and Tessa, lovable and wise, to enthrone herself in his
+intellect. In the game of forfeits, when he had been doomed to “Bow to
+the wittiest, kneel to the prettiest, and kiss the one you love the
+best,” in the long ago evenings, when they were all, old and young,
+children together, he had always bowed to Tessa and knelt to bewitching
+little Dine and kissed her. Now he bowed to Tessa, but he did not kiss
+Dine.
+
+They stood waiting near a lamp-post; he, fidgeting as usual, she,
+straight and still.
+
+“Lady Blue, you never put me on a pedestal, did you?”
+
+“No, you never kept still long enough.”
+
+Professor Towne passed them with Mrs. Towne leaning upon his arm; Mrs.
+Towne bowed and smiled, he lifted his hat in recognition of Tessa’s
+hesitating half inclination.
+
+“Why, Tessa! Do you know him?”
+
+“I almost spoke to him one day by mistake; I did not intend to bow, but
+he looked at me—I suppose the bow bowed itself.”
+
+“He has a noble presence! He is altogether finer physically than his
+cousin.”
+
+“I don’t know that he is,” she answered wilfully. Dinah came willingly
+enough; they walked more slowly and talked.
+
+“Tessa,” began Dine abruptly as they were brushing their hair at
+bedtime, “isn’t Gus a fine talker?”
+
+“Is he like Coleridge? He could talk four hours without interruption,
+but sometimes his listeners, learned men too, did not understand a word
+of it.”
+
+“I do not always understand Gus.”
+
+“Gus does not ramble; he is plain enough.”
+
+Dine brushed out a long curl and looked down upon it. “I shall ask him
+to give me a list of books that I ought to read.”
+
+“I confess that while I understand what he says I do not understand
+_him_. If you do, you are wiser than I.”
+
+“I guess that I am wiser than you.”
+
+“I used to think that I understood people; I have come to the conclusion
+that I do not understand even my own self.”
+
+“Do you like garnet? I want a garnet in some material this winter. Gus
+says that I am a butterfly.”
+
+“Yes, you are pretty in warm colors.”
+
+Tessa drew a chair to the open window and sat a long time leaning her
+elbows on the sill with her face towards the Harrison Homestead. Felix
+had always been so proud of the old house with its tiled chimney-pieces,
+with its ancient crockery brought from Holland and the iron bound Bible
+with the names of his ancestors; for two hundred years the place had
+been held in the Harrison name, a great-great-grandfather having
+purchased the land from the Indians. He had said once to her, “I have a
+good old honest name to give to you, Tessa.” She would have worn his
+name worthily for his sake; if it might be,—but her father would hold
+her back,—why should she not sacrifice herself? Was not Felix worthy of
+her devotion? What other grander thing could she ever do? The moon was
+rising; she changed her position to watch it and did not leave it until
+it stood high above the apple orchard.
+
+
+
+
+XIV.—WHEAT, NOT BREAD.
+
+
+Early one evening Tessa was writing alone in her own chamber; Dinah was
+spending a few days in Dunellen; while Dinah was away she wrote more
+than usual out of her loneliness.
+
+Becoming wearied she laid the neat manuscript away and began scribbling
+with a pencil on a half sheet of foolscap; the disconnected words
+revealed the thoughts that had been troubling her all day.
+
+“Counsel. Waiting. Asking. Deception. Years and years. Oh, I _want_ to
+go to heaven.”
+
+A tap at the door sounded twice before it broke upon her reverie;
+absent-mindedly she opened the door, but the absent-mindedness was lost
+in the flash of light that burst over her face when she recognized, in
+the twilight, the one person in all the world whom she wished to see.
+
+“Oh, I was wishing for you! Did some good spirit send you.”
+
+“I have been feeling all day that you wanted me,” said the little woman
+suffering herself to be drawn into the room. “What are you doing?”
+
+“Feeling wicked and miserable and wanting to go to heaven.”
+
+“You are not the kind to go to heaven, you are the kind to stay on
+earth; what would you do in heaven if you do not love to do God’s will
+on earth?”
+
+Tessa drew her rocker nearer the open window and seated her guest in it,
+moved a low seat beside it, and sat down folding her hands in her lap.
+
+“What shall I do on earth?” she asked.
+
+“What you are told.”
+
+“I can not always see or hear what I must do.”
+
+“That’s a pity.”
+
+“Can you?”
+
+“I could not once; I can now.”
+
+“How can you now?”
+
+“Because I desire but one thing—and that is always made plain to me.”
+
+“But how can you get over _wanting_ things?”
+
+“I can not.”
+
+“I do not understand.”
+
+“I mean only this, dear child; I do want things, but I want God’s will
+most of all.”
+
+“Sometimes I think I do, and then I _know_ that I do not. Do you think,”
+lowering her voice and speaking more slowly, “that He ever _deceives_
+any body?”
+
+“He sometimes, oftentimes, allows them to be deceived,—is that what you
+mean?”
+
+“He does not do it.”
+
+“No, but He allows others to do it.”
+
+“Not—when—they pray—about it and ask what they may do—would He let
+somebody who prayed be deceived?”
+
+Miss Jewett was removing her gloves. She smoothed out each finger and
+thumb before she spoke, and laid them on the window-sill.
+
+“I have been trying to think—oh, now, I know! Do you not remember one
+whom He permitted to be deceived after asking His counsel?”
+
+“No. I thought the thing impossible. I do not see how such a thing can
+be.”
+
+“It can be; it has been. What for, do you suppose?”
+
+“To teach some lesson. I am learning—oh, how bitterly!—that His teaching
+is the best of His gifts.”
+
+“So it is, child; but oh, how we have to be crushed before we can
+believe it. Is your life so hard? It appears a very happy life to me.”
+
+“So every one else thinks. I suppose it would be, but that I make my own
+trials; _do_ I make them? No, I don’t! How can I make things hard when I
+only do what seems the only right thing to do. Tell me about that
+somebody who was deceived—like me,” she added.
+
+“He was a priest; he ministered before the Lord, and he believed in
+David, because he was an honorable man, and high in the king’s
+household; so when David came to him and said: ‘The king hath commanded
+me a business, and hath said unto me, Let no man know it,’ of course, he
+believed him, and when he asked him for bread the old priest would have
+given it, not thinking that in harboring the king’s son-in-law he was
+guilty of treason; but he had no bread; he had nothing but the
+shew-bread, which only the priests might eat. He did not dare give him
+that until he asked counsel of the Lord. No priest had ever dared
+before, and how could he dare? But David and his men were starving, they
+dared go to no one else for help; but the priest didn’t know that, poor,
+old, trustful man, so he asked counsel, and having obtained permission,
+he gave to David the hallowed bread. That was right, because our Lord
+approves of it; then David asked for Goliath’s sword, and he gave him
+that, and went to sleep that night as sweetly as the night before, I
+have no doubt, because he had asked counsel of the Lord and followed
+it.”
+
+“Did any harm come to him?” asked Tessa, quickly.
+
+“Harm! He lost his head; Saul slew him for treason; and he pleaded
+before the king: ‘And who is so faithful among all thy servants as
+David, which is the king’s son-in-law, and goeth at thy bidding, and is
+honorable in thine house?’ God could have warned him or have brought to
+his ears the news that David was an outlaw, but He suffered him to be
+deceived and lose his life for trusting in the man who was telling him a
+lie.”
+
+After a silence Tessa said: “He _had_ to obey! I’m glad that he obeyed;
+I believe that was written just for me. I asked God once to let somebody
+love me, and I trusted him, because I thought that God had given him to
+me—and it has broken my heart with shame. I did not know before that He
+let me be deceived; I knew that I was obeying Him, but I thought that my
+humiliation was my punishment for doing I knew not what.”
+
+“Now I know the secret of some of your articles that I have cried over;
+not less than ten people told me how much they were helped by that
+article of yours, ‘Night and Day.’”
+
+“I have three letters that I will show you sometime; I know that my
+trouble has worn a channel in my heart through which God’s blessing
+flows; except for that I should have almost died.”
+
+“You do not look like dying; your eyes are as clear as a bell, and
+there’s plenty of fun in you yet.”
+
+“The fun and sarcasm are a little bit sanctified, I think; I never say
+sharp things nowadays.”
+
+“Perhaps the answer to your prayer has not all come yet; sometimes the
+answer is given to us to spoil it or use as we please, just as the
+mother gives the child five cents in answer to his coaxing, and the hap
+or mishap of it is in his hands. Perhaps He has given you the wheat, and
+you must grind it and bake it into bread; be careful how you grind and
+how you knead and bake! To some people, like Sue Greyson, He gives bread
+ready baked, but you can receive more, and therefore to you He gives
+more—more opportunity and more discipline. To be born with a talent for
+discipline, Tessa, is a wonderful gift, and oh, how such have to be
+taught! Would you rather be like flighty Sue?”
+
+“No, oh, no, indeed,” shivered Tessa, “but she can go to sleep when I
+have to lie awake.”
+
+“Now I must go.”
+
+“I’ll walk to the end of the planks with you.”
+
+Tessa was too much moved to care to talk; the walk with Miss Jewett was
+almost as silent as her walk homeward alone.
+
+
+
+
+XV.—SEPTEMBER.
+
+
+If Miss Jewett had not been once upon a laughing time a girl herself,
+she would have wondered where the girls in Dunellen found so much to
+laugh about. Nan Gerard laughed. Sue Greyson laughed, and Tessa
+Wadsworth laughed; they laughed separately, and they laughed together;
+they cried separately, too, but they did not cry together. Nan knew that
+it was September, because she had planned to come to Dunellen in
+September; Sue knew, because so few days remained before her
+wedding-day; and Tessa knew, because she found the September golden rod
+and pale, fall daisies in her long walks towards Mayfield; she knew it,
+also, because her book was copied and at the publishers’, awaiting the
+decision over which she trembled in anticipation night and day. One
+morning, late in the month, she found at the post-office a long, thick,
+yellow envelope, containing two dozens of pictures; several of them she
+had seen long ago in Sunday-school books, those that were new to her,
+appeared cut or torn from some book; the letter enclosed with the
+pictures requested her to write a couple of books and to use those
+pictures.
+
+“I’ve heard of illustrating books,” she laughed to herself, “but it
+seems that I must illustrate pictures.”
+
+Coaxing Miss Jewett into her little parlor, she showed her the pictures,
+and read aloud the letter.
+
+“I think it is a great compliment to you,” said the little woman,
+admiringly. “You do not seem to think of that.”
+
+“Father will think so. You and he are such humble people, that you think
+me exalted! Women have become famous before they were as old as I.”
+
+“You may become famous yet.”
+
+“It isn’t in me. Genius is bold; if it were in me, I should find some
+way of knowing it. My work is such a little bit, such a poor little bit.
+But I do like the letter.”
+
+“You will be glad of it when you are old.”
+
+“I am glad of it now.”
+
+She read it again: the penmanship was straggling and ugly.
+
+“I do not know how to talk to you; you remind me of Tryphena and
+Tryphosa; St. Paul would know what to say to you. You seem to have no
+worldliness in your aims. Your style is impressive. I think that we can
+keep your pen busy. Your last manuscript is still in the balance.”
+
+“If it be found wanting, what shall I do! The suspense wears upon me.”
+
+“I begin to understand why mediocrity is long-lived. Don’t be a goose,
+child.”
+
+Mr. Wadsworth was at his desk; he read the letter through twice without
+comment.
+
+“Well!” she said, playing with a morsel of pink blotting paper.
+
+“It’s _beautiful_, daughter.”
+
+She wondered why it did not seem so much to her as it did to him and to
+Miss Jewett.
+
+“I expect that Dine will take to authorship next.”
+
+Tessa’s lips were keeping a secret, for Dine was writing a little story.
+When had she ever failed to attempt the thing that Tessa had done? She
+had not taken Tessa’s place in school, and had been graduated much
+nearer the foot of her class than Tessa had ever stood; still she had
+Tessa’s knack of writing stories, and telling stories, and had, at her
+urging, written a story for boys, which Tessa had criticised and copied;
+Dinah’s penmanship being very pretty, but not at all plain. The letter
+made no allusion to the fate of Dinah’s story; somewhat anxious about
+this, she slipped the bulky envelope into her pocket and turned her face
+homewards. Her winter’s work was laid out for her; there was nothing to
+do but to do it.
+
+So full was she with plans for the books that she did not hear steps
+behind her and at her side until Sue Greyson nudged her.
+
+“Say, Tessa, turn down Market Street with me; I have something to tell
+you.” The serious, startled voice arrested her instantly. What new and
+dreadful thing had Sue been doing now? Her only dread was for Dr. Lake.
+
+“I’ve been ordering things for dinner; we have dinner at four, so I can
+afford to run around town in the morning. I’m in a horrid fix and
+there’s nobody to help me out.”
+
+“What about?”
+
+“_I_ haven’t been doing any thing; it’s other people; it’s always other
+people,” she said plaintively, “somebody is always doing something to
+upset my plans. You do not sympathize with me, you never do.”
+
+“I do not know how to sympathize with any thing that is not
+straightforward and true, and your course is rather zigzag.”
+
+“Dr. Towne said—”
+
+“You haven’t been talking to _him_,” interrupted Tessa, flushing.
+
+“No, only he called to see father and I was home alone and he asked me
+what ailed me and I had to tell him that I didn’t want to be married.”
+
+“Well, what could he say?”
+
+“He said, ‘Stay with your father and be a good girl,’” laughed Sue, “the
+last thing I would think of doing. Father looks so glum and says, ‘Oh,
+my little girl, what shall I do without you! I wish that fellow was at
+the bottom of the sea!’ So do I, too. I don’t see why I ever promised to
+marry him! I think that I must have been bereft of my senses.”
+
+“Why not ask him to wait a year—you will know your own mind—if you have
+any—by that time.”
+
+“Oh, deary me! I’d be married to John Gesner or some other old fool with
+money by that time! You don’t mind being an old maid, but _I_ do!”
+
+“How do you know that I don’t mind?” Tessa could not forbear asking.
+
+“Oh, you wouldn’t be so happy and like to do things. I believe that I
+like Gerald a great deal better any way.”
+
+She grew frightened at Tessa’s stillness; there was not one sympathetic
+line in the stern curving of her lips.
+
+“Have you told Dr. Lake that?”
+
+“You needn’t cut me in two,” laughed Sue uneasily, “men can’t _sue_
+women for breach of promise can they?”
+
+“Answer me, please.”
+
+Sue hesitated, colored, stammered, finally confessed in a weak voice
+that tried hard to be brave, “Yes, I have! There now! You can’t hurt me!
+Father said last night that if I had taken Lake he would have given me
+the house and every thing in it ‘for the old woman to keep house with,’
+you know! And then he said that it was hard for me to leave him now that
+he is growing old, that he would have to marry somebody that wouldn’t
+care for him, that he never had had much pleasure in his life, that
+Gerald was a good physician and they could work together and how happy
+we might all have been! He was mad enough though when he first
+discovered that Gerald was in love with me; he threatened to send him
+off. But that’s his way! He is one thing one day and another thing the
+next! And I couldn’t help it, Tessa, I really, _really_ couldn’t, but I
+was so homesick and just then Gerald came in—he looked so tired, his
+cough has come back, too—and when he said ‘How many days yet, Susan?’ I
+said quick, before I thought, ‘I like you a hundred times better! I
+would rather marry you than Stacey.’ And then he turned so white that I
+thought he was dead, and he said something, I don’t know whether it was
+swearing or praying—and caught me in his arms, and said after that he
+would never let me go! And then I said—I said—I couldn’t help it—that I
+would write to Stacey and send back the ring and he took it off and
+tossed it out the window! I And then I made him go and find it! Stacey
+can give it to some other girl. I didn’t hurt it. I always took it off
+when I swept or wet my hands. Life is so uncertain, I thought that he
+might want it again.”
+
+“Life _is_ uncertain. I never realized it until this minute.”
+
+“Now your voice isn’t angry,” said poor Sue eagerly. “I want you to
+think that I have done right.”
+
+“When my moral perceptions are blunted, I will.”
+
+“Go away, saying ‘moral perceptions.’ I don’t know what Dr. Towne will
+think either. Well, what’s did can’t be undid! Now Gerald says that I
+sha’n’t put it off, but that I’ve got to marry him on that day. I know
+that you think it is horrid, but you never have lovers, so you don’t
+know! I don’t see why, either. You are a great deal prettier than I am.
+When I am tired, I am the lookingest thing, but you always look sweet
+and peaceful. Don’t you think that I ought to please father and stay
+home? Why don’t you say something? Are you struck dumb?”
+
+“I can not understand it—yet.”
+
+“I think that I have made it plain enough,” cried Sue, angrily. “You
+must be very stupid. You like Gerald so much—I used to be jealous—that
+you ought to be glad for him!”
+
+“I do like him. I like him so well, Sue, that I want him to have a
+faithful and true wife. O, Sue! Sue Greyson! What are you to take that
+man’s life into your hands?”
+
+“I don’t know what you mean. I love him, of course! If you think so much
+of him, why don’t you marry him?”
+
+“The question is not worth a reply.”
+
+“You ought to comfort me; I haven’t any mother,” returned Sue,
+miserably.
+
+“It is well for her that you haven’t.”
+
+“I don’t see why you can’t let me be comfortable,” whined Sue; “every
+thing would be lovely if you didn’t spoil it all. Gerald is as wild as a
+lunatic. He shall write to Stacey or father shall, or I’ll be married
+beforehand and send him the paper. I could do it in ten days. Do come
+home with me, I want you to see my wedding dress! It’s too lovely for
+any thing. My travelling dress is an elegant brown; I got brown to
+please Stacey, but Gerald likes it.”
+
+“It’s a good idea to choose a color that gentlemen like generally; life
+is so uncertain.”
+
+“So it is,” replied Sue, unconsciously. “I think that you might
+congratulate me,” she added, with her hysterical laugh. “You didn’t
+think that your gold thimble would make pretty things for Dr. Lake’s
+wife, did you?”
+
+“I congratulate _you_! I hope that I may congratulate him, in time. Dr.
+Lake is trying to pour a gallon into a half pint. I hope that one of you
+will die before you make each other very miserable.”
+
+“You mean thing,” said Sue, almost crying.
+
+“I do not mean to hurt you, Sue, but you are doing something that is
+wretched beyond words. Don’t you care at all for that poor fellow who
+loves you?”
+
+“Gerald loves me, too,” she answered proudly. “You are ugly to me, and I
+haven’t any body that I dare talk to but you. Mary Sherwood says that
+telling you things is like throwing things into the sea; nobody ever
+finds them.”
+
+“I must be very full of rubbish.”
+
+“We are going to Washington on our bridal trip; we can’t stay long, for
+father will not spare Gerald. I shall ask nobody but Dr. Towne and his
+mother, and Miss Jewett, and you, and Dine. Will you come?” she asked
+hesitatingly.
+
+“I will come for Dr. Lake’s sake.”
+
+“I got a letter from Stacey this morning. I haven’t opened it yet; it
+will make me very sad. I wish that I wasn’t so sensitive about things.
+It’s a dreadful trouble to me. I looked in the glass the first thing
+this morning expecting that my hair would be all white. I’m dying to
+show you my things; do come home with me.”
+
+“Sue, do you ever say your prayers?”
+
+“To be sure I do,” she replied, with a startled emphasis.
+
+“Then be sure to say them before you write to that poor fellow.”
+
+“I wish that you would write for me. Will you come the night before and
+stay all night with me? I shall be so afraid that the roof will tumble
+in, or somebody come down the chimney to catch me, that I sha’n’t sleep
+a wink.”
+
+The curves of Tessa’s lips relented. “Yes, I will come. If somebody come
+they shall catch me, too.”
+
+“You are a darling, after all. We are to be married about noon; Day is
+to send in the breakfast and the waiters—that _was_ the plan, and if
+father isn’t _too_ mad, I suppose he’ll do the same now.”
+
+She stood still at the corner. “Well, if I do not see you—good-by till
+the last night of your girlhood.”
+
+“Last night of my girlhood,” repeated Sue. “What are the other hoods?”
+
+“Womanhood.”
+
+“Oh, yes, and _widowhood_,” she said lightly.
+
+Tessa turned the corner and walked rapidly along the pavement.
+“Motherhood,” she was thinking, “the sweetest hood of all! But I can
+sooner think of that in connection with a monkey or a butterfly than
+with Sue.”
+
+At the next corner another interruption faced her in the forms of Mary
+Sherwood and laughing Naughty Nan.
+
+The lively chat was ended with an expostulation from Nan. “Now, Mary
+Sherwood, hurry. You know that I must do several things this afternoon.
+I’m going to Mayfield and Green Valley with the handsome black bear,
+Miss Wadsworth.”
+
+It was the day for her afternoon with Mrs. Towne; it had chanced that
+she had given to her every Tuesday afternoon. It touched her to find the
+white-haired, feeble, old lady watching for her at the window. Tessa
+loved her because she was cultured and beautiful; she loved her voice,
+her shapely, soft hands, her pretty motions, her elegant and becoming
+dress, and because—O, foolish Tessa, for a reason that she had tossed
+away, scorning herself—she was Ralph Towne’s mother. Not once in all
+these times had she met Dr. Towne in his own home; not until this
+afternoon in which he was to take Miss Gerard driving.
+
+“My mother is engaged with callers, Miss Tessa; she asked me to take you
+to her sitting-room, and to take care of you for half an hour.”
+
+“I am sorry to trouble you,” said she confusedly. “I want to see Miss
+Jewett; I will return in half an hour.”
+
+“And not give me the pleasure of the half hour? When have you and I had
+half an hour together?”
+
+She remembered.
+
+“On the last night of the old year, was it not? Come with me and ‘take
+off your things.’ Isn’t that the thing to say?”
+
+Unwillingly she followed him; he wheeled a chair into one of the wide
+windows overlooking the Park, laid away hat, sacque, and gloves, then
+seated himself lazily in the chair that he had wheeled to face her own.
+It was almost like the afternoons in the shabby parlor at home; so like
+them that she could not at first lift her eyes; in a mirror into which
+she had glanced, she had noticed how very pale lips and cheeks were and
+how dark her eyes were glowing.
+
+He bent forward in a professional manner and laid two fingers on her
+throbbing wrist. “Miss Tessa, what are you doing to lose flesh so?”
+
+With that, she lifted her eyes, the color coming with a rush. “Wouldn’t
+you like to see my tongue, too?”
+
+“I know your tongue; it has a sharp point.”
+
+“I am sorry.”
+
+“No you are not,” he answered settling himself back in an easy position,
+and taking a penknife from his pocket to play with. The small knife,
+with the pearl handle; how often she had seen that in his fingers. “You
+are a student, of human nature; tell me what you think of me.”
+
+How could she give to that amused assurance the bare, ugly truth!
+
+“How many times have you changed your mind about me?”
+
+“Once, only once.”
+
+“Then your first impression of me was not correct.”
+
+With her usual directness, she answered, “No.”
+
+The blade snapped. If she had seen but his face she would have supposed
+that he had cut himself. She hastened to speak: “Some one says that we
+must change our minds three times before we can be sure.”
+
+“But I do not want to wait until you are sure.”
+
+“I am sure now.”
+
+“No doubt. Tell me now.”
+
+How many times his irresistibly boyish manner had forced from her words
+that she had afterward sorely regretted!
+
+“You will not be pleased. You will dislike me forever after.”
+
+“Much you will care for that.”
+
+“Shall I not?” smiling at the humor in his eyes. “I think that I do not
+care as I once did for what people think of me; the question nowadays is
+what I think of them.”
+
+“I will remember,” he said urgently, “that I brought it all upon my own
+head.”
+
+How could he guess that in her heart was lodged one unpleasant thought
+of him? Had she not a little while—such a little while since—cared so
+much for him that he was grieved for her?
+
+“You must promise not to be cross.”
+
+“I promise,” taking out his watch. “You may hammer at me for twenty
+minutes. I have an engagement at half past three.”
+
+Did Nan Gerard care as she had cared once? Would the sound of his wheels
+be to Naughty Nan what they were to her a year ago? A blue and gold
+edition of Longfellow was laid open on its face on the broad
+window-sill; she ran her forefinger the length of both covers before she
+could temper her voice; she did not wish to speak coldly, and yet her
+heart was very cold towards him.
+
+“I think that you took me by surprise at first; I thought you were the
+handsomest man in the world—”
+
+“You have changed that opinion?” he said, laughing.
+
+“Yes; I should not think of describing you as handsome now; I should
+simply say that you were tall, dark, with deep-set, not remarkable,
+brown eyes, a quiet manner, given to few words—not at all remarkable,
+you are aware.”
+
+“Go on, I am not demolished yet.”
+
+“Your spirit I created out of my own fancies; I gave you in those
+enthusiastic days a heart like a woman’s heart, and a perfect intellect.
+You were my Sir Galahad, until I knew that some things you said were
+not—quite true?”
+
+“Not quite true!” he repeated huskily.
+
+Her eyes as well as her fingers were on the blue covers.
+
+“Not true as I meant truth. Your words did not mean to you what they
+meant to me—I beg your pardon; do not let me savor of strong-mindedness,
+but I speak from my heart to your heart. You asked me a question
+frankly, I have answered it frankly. You said some things to Sue that
+you ought not to have said and that hurt me; I began to feel that you
+are not sincere through and through and through. At first I believed
+wholly in you and then I believed not at all. I was very bitter. And it
+hurt me so that I would rather have died.”
+
+Her tone was as cold and even as if she were reciting a theorem in
+_Legendre_.
+
+“So you died because you were not true, but you did not go to heaven
+because you had never lived, and therefore I can not expect to find you
+again. I did not know before how sad such a burial is.”
+
+“Why can not you expect to find me again?”
+
+“To find what? That fancy? If there is any one in the world as good, as
+true, as strong, gentle and sympathetic as my ideal, I surely hope to
+find that he is in the world.”
+
+“You thought that his name was Ralph Towne, and now you know that his
+name is not Ralph Towne.”
+
+“I do not know what his name may be.”
+
+“You think the real Ralph Towne is a stranger not worth knowing?”
+
+“He is a stranger, certainly; whether or not he is worth knowing you
+know best.”
+
+She laughed, but not the suspicion of a smile gleamed in his eyes; she
+had forgotten that they could be as dark and stern as this.
+
+“Time will show you, Miss Tessa,” he said humbly.
+
+“I _am_ sharp. I did not mean to be. But it cuts me so when I think that
+you can flirt with girls like Sue and Miss Gerard. Do you know of what
+it reminds me? Once the enemy fell upon the rear of an army and smote
+all that were feeble, when they were faint and weary; it was an army of
+women and little children, as well as men, and they did not go forth to
+war; all they asked was a peaceable passage through the land.”
+
+The door was pushed softly open; Tessa lifted her eyes to behold the
+rare vision of shining gray silk, and real lace, a fine face crowned
+with white braids and lighted by the softest and brownest of brown eyes.
+
+“My dear.” All her motherhood was concentrated in the two worn-out
+words.
+
+“Now you may run away, Ralph.”
+
+“I am very glad to,” he said. “Good afternoon, Miss Tessa.”
+
+Tessa could not trust her voice to speak; raising her eyes she met his
+fully as he turned at the door to speak to his mother; a long searching
+look on both sides; neither smiled.
+
+“Tessa, have you been quarrelling with my boy?”
+
+“No, ma’am.”
+
+“Has he been quarrelling with you?”
+
+“No, ma’am.”
+
+Mrs. Towne seated herself in the chair that Dr. Towne had vacated,
+arranged her dress and folded her hands in her lap.
+
+“It is Nan Gerard again! What a flirt that girl is! She called yesterday
+and Ralph chanced to come in while she was here; she gave him such an
+invitation to invite her to drive with him that he could not—that is, he
+did not—refuse. I wish that he wouldn’t, sometimes; but he says that he
+is amused and no one is harmed. I am not so sure of that. I do not
+understand Miss Gerard. I think that I do not understand girls of this
+generation. But I understand you.”
+
+“I wish that you would teach me to be as wise.”
+
+“You will be by and by. Do you know what I would like to ask you to
+promise?”
+
+“I can not imagine.”
+
+“I have studied you. If you will give yourself five years to think, to
+grow, you will marry at thirty the man that you would refuse to-day. You
+are impetuous to-day, you form your judgments rashly, you despise what
+you can not understand, and you are not yet capable of the love that
+hopeth all things, endureth all things, that suffereth long and is
+_kind_.”
+
+“That is true; I am not capable of it. I have no patience with myself,
+nor with others.”
+
+“If you will wait these five years, your life and another life might be
+more blessed.”
+
+“Mrs. Towne! No one loves me. There is no occasion for me not to wait. I
+could promise without the least difficulty for the happiness or
+unhappiness of marriage is as unattainable to me to-day as the happiness
+or unhappiness of old age.”
+
+“I will not ask you to promise, my daughter, but I will ask you to
+promise this; before you say to any man, ‘Yes,’ will you come to me and
+talk it all out to me? As if I were really your mother!”
+
+Tessa promised with misty eyes.
+
+“I promised to show you an old jewel-case this afternoon,” said Mrs.
+Towne in a lighter tone. “I wish that I might tell you the history of
+each piece.” She brought the box from a small table and pushed her chair
+nearer Tessa that she might open it in her lap. “This emerald is for
+you,” she said, slipping a ring containing an emerald in old-fashioned
+setting upon the first finger of Tessa’s left hand; “and it means what
+you have promised. All that your mother will permit me, I give to you
+this hour.”
+
+“You are very kind to me.”
+
+“I am very kind to myself. All my life I have wanted a daughter like
+you: a girl with blue eyes and a pure heart; one who would not care to
+flirt and dress, but who would love me and talk to me as you talk to me.
+I am proud of my boy, but I want a daughter.”
+
+“I am not very good; you may be disappointed in me.”
+
+“I do not fear that. This, my mother gave me,” lifting pin and ear-rings
+from the box. A diamond set in silver formed the centre of the pin; the
+diamond was surrounded by pearls of different sizes. “I was very proud
+of this pin. I did not know then that I could not have every thing in
+the world and out of it. This pin my father gave me.”
+
+Tessa laid it in her hand and counted the diamonds; it was a diamond
+with nine opals radiating from it, between each opal a small diamond.
+“It looks like a dahlia,” she said. “I love pretty things. This ring is
+the first ring that I ever had.”
+
+“People say that the emerald means success in love,” replied Mrs. Towne.
+“I did not remember it when I chose that for you. Perhaps you would
+prefer a diamond.”
+
+“I like best what you chose,” said Tessa, taking from among the jewels,
+bracelet, pin, ear-rings and chatelaine of turquoises and pearls, and
+examining each piece with interested eyes. “These are old, too.”
+
+“Every thing in this box is old. Some day you shall see my later jewels.
+You will like this,” she added, placing in her hands a bracelet formed
+of a network of iron wire, clasped with a medallion of Berlin iron on a
+steel plate; the necklace that matched it was also of medallions; the
+one in the centre held a bust of Psyche; upon the others were busts of
+men and women whom Tessa did not recognize; to this set belonged comb,
+pin, and ear-rings.
+
+“These belonged to my mother. How old they are I do not know. See this
+ring, a portrait of Washington, painted on copper, and covered with
+glass. It is said to be one of the finest portraits in the country. I
+used to wear it a great deal. My father gave it to me on my fifteenth
+birthday. Have I told you that Lafayette kissed me when I was an infant
+in my mother’s arms?”
+
+While Tessa replaced the treasures with fingers that lingered over them,
+with the new weight of the emerald upon her finger, and the new weight
+of a promise upon her heart, Mrs. Towne related the story of the kiss
+from Lafayette.
+
+Tessa was a perfect listener, Mrs. Towne thought; the lighting or
+darkening of her eyes, a flush rising to her cheeks now and then, the
+curving of the mobile lips, an exclamation of surprise or appreciation,
+were most grateful to the old heart that had found after long and
+intense waiting the daughter that she could love and honor.
+
+In the late twilight Dr. Towne returned; Tessa was still listening, with
+the jewel-case in her lap.
+
+“I have missed my husband with all the old loneliness since we came into
+Dunellen,” she was saying when her tall son entered and stood at her
+side.
+
+“Mother,” he said, in the shy way that Tessa knew, “you forget that you
+have me.”
+
+“No, son, I do not forget; but your life is full of new interests.
+Yesterday I did not have ten minutes alone with you.”
+
+“It shall not happen again.”
+
+“I have persuaded Tessa to stay and hear Philip to-night; she says that
+he is like a west wind to her.”
+
+“He would not fall upon the hindmost in your army, Miss Tessa.”
+
+“I am sure that he would not.”
+
+“Not if they coaxed him to?”
+
+“He should have manliness enough to resist all their pretty arts, and
+enticing ways.”
+
+“Mother, can’t you convince her? She has been rating me soundly for
+flirting, when it is the girls that are flirting with me.”
+
+“It takes two to flirt,” replied his mother.
+
+Dr. Towne was sent for as they were rising from the dinner table; Mrs.
+Towne and Tessa crossed the Park alone; at the entrance of the Lecture
+Room Sue Greyson met them.
+
+“I _had_ to come,” Sue whispered, seizing Tessa’s arm. “Father is so
+horrid and hateful, and said awful things to me just because I asked
+_him_ to write to Stacey. The letter is written anyhow, and I’m thankful
+it’s over. Father says that he won’t give me the house, and that I
+sha’n’t be married under his roof. He is mad with Gerald, too, and told
+him to leave his house. So Gerald left and went to see a patient. He is
+so happy that he don’t care what father says.”
+
+As they passed down the aisle, Tessa’s dress brushed against Felix
+Harrison; he was sitting alone with his father.
+
+“Why! Felix Harrison! Did you ever?” whispered irrepressible Sue.
+
+The Lecture Room was well-lighted, and well-filled. Professor Towne was
+the fashion in Dunellen. During the opening prayer there was a stir in
+one of the pews behind Tessa; she did not lift her head, her heart beat
+so rapidly that she felt as if she were suffocating.
+
+“Poor fellow,” came in Sue’s loud whisper close to her ear. “They have
+taken him out! I should think that he would know better than to go among
+folks.”
+
+Tessa could not follow the speaker for some minutes; the lights went
+out, she could not catch her breath; Mrs. Towne took her hand and held
+it firmly, then the lights came dim, through a misty and waving
+distance, her breath was drawn more easily, she could discern the
+outline of the preacher, and then his dark face was brought fully into
+view, his voice sounded loud in her ears; for some time longer she could
+not catch and connect his words; then, clear and strong, the words fell
+from his lips, and she could listen and understand—
+
+“Good is the will of the Lord concerning me.”
+
+If Felix could have listened and understood, would he have been
+comforted, too?
+
+His voice held her when her attention wavered; afterward, that one
+sentence was all that had fastened itself; and was not that enough for
+one life time?
+
+At the door, Dr. Towne stood waiting for his mother, and Mr. Hammerton
+and Dinah were moving towards the group.
+
+“I knew that you would be here,” said Dinah, “so I coaxed Gus away from
+father. I couldn’t wait to tell you that your books have come. Two
+splendid dozens in all colors; I had to open them. You don’t mind? Gus
+and I each read a brown one; we think the crimson and blue ones must be
+splendid.”
+
+Sue drew Tessa aside to coax in her plaintively miserable voice, “Come
+home with me; father will say things, and I shall be afraid.”
+
+“I can’t help you, Sue.”
+
+“You mean you _won’t_. I’ll elope with Dr. Lake, and then Dunellen will
+be on fire, and you don’t care.”
+
+“I’m not afraid. He has good sense, if you haven’t.”
+
+“I’ll come and see you to-morrow, then.”
+
+“Well, that will do.”
+
+“Nobody ever had so much trouble before,” sighed Sue as she went off.
+
+Mr. Hammerton was in high glee and teased Tessa all the way home about
+her book.
+
+“The milk pails were on the fence twice, Lady Blue, that is tautology.”
+
+“Oh, they kept them there.”
+
+“And the grandmother was always knitting.”
+
+“She always did knit.”
+
+“Lady Blue, you are on the road to Poverty; he who walks the streets of
+Literature will stop at the house of Starvation. Homer was a beggar;
+Terence was a slave; Tasso was a poor man; Bacon was as poor as a church
+mouse; Cervantes died of nothing to eat. Are you not beginning to feel
+the pangs of hunger? Breath and memory fail me, or I would convince you.
+Collins died of neglect; Milton was an impecunious genius; every body
+knows how wretchedly poor Goldsmith was; and wasn’t poor old prodigious
+Sam Johnson hungry half his life? Chatterton destroyed himself. I
+tremble for you, child of Genius! Author of ‘Under the Wings,’ what hast
+thou to say in defence of thy mad career?”
+
+“Don’t mind him, Tessa,” consoled Dinah, “he does like your book; he
+said that he had no idea that you could do so well; that there was great
+promise in it, that it revealed a thoughtful mind—he said it to
+father—that the delineation of character was fine, and that it had the
+real thing in it. What is the real thing?”
+
+“Read it and you will know.”
+
+“If it isn’t asking too much,” began Tessa, timidly, “I wish that _you_
+would write me a criticism, Gus. I like the way that you talk about
+books. Not many know how to read a book, and still fewer know how to
+talk about it. Will you, please?”
+
+“You overrate my judgment; sentiment is not in my line; I have done my
+share in reading books; I do not know that I have got much out of them
+all. My own literary efforts would be like this:
+
+ “‘Here lies—and more’s the pity!
+ All that remains of Thomas New-city.’
+
+“His name was Newtown.”
+
+Dinah gave her little shout.
+
+“Then you will not promise,” said Tessa, disappointedly. “I’m not afraid
+of sharp criticism; I want to do my poor little best; I do not expect to
+do as much as the girls in books who write stories. I do not expect any
+publisher to fall in love with me as he did in _St. Elmo_, wasn’t it?”
+
+“What _do_ you expect to do?”
+
+“I hope—perhaps that is the better word—to give others all the good that
+is given me; I believe that if one has the ‘gift of utterance’ even in
+so small a fashion as I have it, that experiences will be given to
+utter; the Divine Biographer writes the life for the human heart to
+read, interpret and put into words! And to them is given a peculiar
+life, or, it may be, a peculiar appreciation of life; heartaches go hand
+in hand with headaches.
+
+“I was born into my home that I may write my books; my poor little
+books, my little, weak, crooked-backed children! Would Fredrika Bremer
+have written her books without her exceptional home-training, or Sara
+Coleridge, or any other of the lesser lights shine as they do shine, if
+the spark had not been blown upon by the breath of their home-fires?
+When I am sorry sometimes that I can not do what I would and go where I
+would, I think that I have not gathered together all the fragments that
+are around loose between the plank walk and the soldiers’ monument! Said
+mother, ‘_How_ do you make a book? Do you take a little from this book
+and a little from that?’”
+
+“What did you say?” asked Dine.
+
+“Oh, I said that I took a tone from her voice, an expression from
+father’s eyes, a curl from your head, a word from Gus’s lips, a laugh
+from Sue Greyson, a sigh from Dr. Lake, an apple blossom from Mr. Bird’s
+orchard, a spray of golden rod from the wayside, a chat from loungers in
+the Park, a wise saying from Miss Jewett—”
+
+“That’s rather a conglomeration,” said Dinah.
+
+“That is life, as I see it and live it.”
+
+“What do you take from yourself?” asked Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“I have all my life from the time that I cried over my first lie and
+prayed that I might have curly hair, to the present moment, when I am
+glad and sorry about a thousand things.”
+
+“What did mother say?”
+
+“She said that any one could write a book, then.”
+
+“Let her try, then! It’s awful hard about the grammar and spelling and
+the beginning a chapter and ending it and introducing people!”
+
+“Yes, it’s awful hard or awful easy,” replied Mr. Hammerton. “Which is
+it, Lady Blue?”
+
+“Ask me when I have written my novel! Did you hear from the afternoon
+mail, Dine?”
+
+“Yes,” said Dine, grimly, “I should think I _did_ hear. Mother and I
+have had a fight! Father took care of the wounded and we are all
+convalescing. Aunt Theresa has written for one of us to come next week;
+kindly says that she will take me if mother can not spare you; I said
+right up and down that _I_ wouldn’t go, and mother said right down and
+up that I _should_ go, that she couldn’t and wouldn’t spare you! Aunt
+Theresa has the rheumatism, and it’s horrid dull on a farm! I was there
+when I was a little girl, and she sent me to bed before dark; I’m afraid
+that she will do it again; if she does I’ll frighten her out of her
+rheumatics. Mother will not let you have a voice in the matter, Tessa;
+who knows but you might meet your fate? The school-teacher boards with
+them; he is just out of college. Mother sha’n’t make me go!”
+
+“I do not choose to go; but I could have all my time to myself. A low,
+cosy chamber and a fire on the hearth, no one to intrude or hinder.”
+
+“But the school-master!” added Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“He’s only a boy; I could put him into my book.”
+
+“We’ll draw lots; shall we?”
+
+“If mother is determined, the lot is drawn.”
+
+“And father wants you, I know; he had an attack of pain before tea. I
+wish that I was useful and couldn’t be spared.”
+
+“May I not have a vote; I am a naturalized member of the family?”
+
+“You would want Tessa, too,” said Dinah.
+
+“Would I?” he returned, squeezing the gloved fingers on his arm,
+whereupon Dinah became confused and silent.
+
+Tessa found her books upon the hall table; her father, Mr. Hammerton,
+and Dinah followed her into the hall to watch her face and laugh over
+her exclamations.
+
+“Your secret is out,” cried her father; “at Christmas there will be a
+placard in Runyon’s with the name of the book and author in flaming red
+letters! You can not remain the Great Unknown.”
+
+“I feel so ashamed of trying,” said Tessa, with a brown cover, a red
+cover, and a green cover in her hands, “but I had to. I’ll be too humble
+to be ashamed. ‘Humility’s so good when pride’s impossible.’”
+
+Several copies were taken up-stairs; Miss Jewett’s name was written in
+one, Mrs. Towne’s in another, Mr. Hammerton’s in one that he had
+selected, and in one, bound in a sober gray, she wrote,
+
+ “Felix Harrison. In memory of the old school days when he helped me
+ with my compositions.
+
+ “T. L. W.”
+
+She never knew of his sudden, sharp cry over it: “Oh, my life! my lost
+life! my wasted life!”
+
+
+
+
+XVI.—A TANGLE.
+
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth’s strong will triumphed, as it usually did, and Dinah was
+sent into the country early in the last week of September, with a
+promise from Tessa that she would release her from her durance as soon
+as one of her books was finished and herself spend the remainder of the
+winter with the childless old people who had been looking forward to
+this pleasure from winter to winter ever since Tessa was ten years old.
+Half Dunellen had pacified Dinah with the promise of long weekly
+letters, and she knew that Tessa and her father would write often. “I am
+not strong enough to write letters,” her mother had said. “Tessa will
+tell you every thing.” “I will add a postscript whenever Tessa will
+permit,” said Mr. Hammerton, which queerly enough consoled homesick
+Dinah more than all the other promises combined.
+
+Sue had not come to talk to Tessa and she dared not go to Dr. Greyson’s
+for fear of influencing her. She had met Dr. Lake once; he had lifted
+his hat with a flourish, but would not stop to speak to her.
+
+And now it was Wednesday and Sue’s wedding day had been set for Friday.
+
+At noon, among other letters, her father brought her a note from Felix
+Harrison:
+
+“I must see you; I want to talk to you. Come Wednesday afternoon.”
+
+How she shrank from this interview she did not understand until she
+could think it over years afterward. In those after years when she said,
+“I do not want to live my life over again,” she remembered her
+experiences with Felix Harrison; more than all, the feeling of those
+weeks when she had felt _bound_. It was also in her mind when she said,
+as she often did say, in later life, “I could never influence any one to
+marry.” How often an expression in the mature years of a woman’s life
+would reveal a long story, if one could but read it.
+
+Another word of hers in her middle age, “I love to help little girls to
+be happy,” was the expression to years of longing that no one had ever
+guessed; her mother least of all.
+
+But she had not come to this settled time yet; it was weary years before
+she was at leisure from herself. It was Wednesday noon now and Felix had
+sent for her; she shrank from him with a shrinking amounting to terror;
+he would touch her hand, most certainly, and he might put his arm around
+her and kiss her; she would faint and fall at his feet if he did; he
+might say that she had promised him, that she was bound to him, that he
+would never let her go; that he was gaining strength and that she must
+become his wife or he would die!
+
+Why could he not write his message? What could he have to say to her?
+Was it not all said and laid away to be remembered, perhaps, and that
+was all? Then the memory of the old Felix swept over her, and she bowed
+her head and wept for him! She had held herself in her heart as his
+promised wife for six long weeks, how could she shrink from him? Was he
+not to her what no other man would ever become? Was she not to him the
+one best and dearest?
+
+“I wonder,” she sobbed, “why _he_ had to be the one to love me; why was
+not the love given to one whom I could love? Why must such a good and
+perfect gift as love be a burden to him and to me? If some one I know—”
+
+The cheeks that were wet for Felix Harrison burned at the thought of one
+she knew!
+
+“Oh, I wonder—but I must not wonder—I must be submissive; I must bow
+before the Awful Will.”
+
+In that hour it was harder to bear for Felix Harrison to love her than
+for Ralph Towne to be indifferent.
+
+“What are you going to do this afternoon?” inquired her mother at the
+dinner table.
+
+“Take my walk! And then the thing that comes first”
+
+“You never have any plan about any thing; any one with so little to do
+ought to have a plan.”
+
+“My plan is this—_do the next thing_! I find that it keeps me busy.”
+
+“The next thing, hard or easy,” said Mr. Wadsworth.
+
+“Hard! Easy!” repeated Mrs. Wadsworth in her ironical voice. “Tessa
+never had a hard thing to do in her life. It will be my comfort in my
+last hours, Tessa, that you have been kept from troubles and
+disappointments.”
+
+“You might as well take the comfort of it now,” said Tessa.
+
+“Not many young women of your age have your easy life,” her mother
+continued; “you have no thought where your next meal will come from, or
+where you will live in your old age, or where—”
+
+“I know where all my good things come from,” interrupted Tessa,
+reverently; “the how, the when, and the what that I do not know—that I
+am waiting to know.”
+
+“That is like you! Not a thought, not a care; it will come dreadful hard
+to you if you ever _do_ have trouble.”
+
+Tessa’s tears ever left in her heart a place for sweet laughter; so
+light, so soft, so submissive, and withal so happy was the low laugh of
+her reply that her father’s eyes filled at the sound. Somebody
+understood her.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth looked annoyed. Her elder daughter’s words baffled her.
+Tessa _was_ shallow and she sighed and asked her if she would take apple
+pie.
+
+Tessa ate her pie understanding how she was a trial to her mother, but
+not understanding how she could hinder it. Could she change herself? or
+could her mother change herself?
+
+“I wish that it were easier for me to love people,” she said coming out
+of a reverie, “then I would not need to trouble myself about not
+understanding them.”
+
+“I thought that you were a student of human nature,” said her father.
+
+“I always knew that she couldn’t see through people,” exclaimed her
+mother.
+
+“I do not; I never know when I am deceived.”
+
+“My rule is,” Mr. Wadsworth arose and stood behind his chair, “to judge
+people by themselves and not by _myself_.”
+
+“Oh, the heartaches that would save,” thought Tessa. At the hour when
+she was walking slowly towards Felix, her black dress brushing the
+grass, her eyes upon the harvested fields lying warm in the mellow
+sunlight, and on her lips the sorrowful wonder, he was sitting alone in
+the summer-house, his head dropped within his hands. He was wondering,
+too, as all his being leaped forward at the thought of her coming, and
+battling with the strong love that was too strong for his feeble
+strength.
+
+When her hand unlatched the gate, he was not in the summer-house; she
+walked up the long path, and around to the latticed porch where Laura
+liked to sew or read in the afternoons; there was no one there; the
+work-basket had been pushed over, cotton and thimble had rolled to the
+edge of the floor, the white work had been thrown over a chair, she
+stood a moment in the oppressive silence, trembling and half leaning
+against a post; the tall clock in the hall ticked loudly and evenly:
+forever—never, never—forever! Her heart quickened, every thing grew dark
+like that night in the lecture-room, she was possessed with a terror
+that swept away breath and motion. A groan, then another and another,
+interrupted the never—forever, of the clock, then a step on the
+oil-cloth of the hall, and she dimly discerned Laura’s frightened face,
+and heard as if afar off her surprised voice: “Why, Tessa! O, Tessa, I
+am so glad!”
+
+The frightened face was held up to be kissed and arms were clinging
+around her.
+
+“I’m always just as frightened every time—he was in the summer-house and
+father found him—he can speak now—it doesn’t last very long.”
+
+“I will not stay, he needs you.”
+
+“Not now, no one can help him; father is with him. If this keeps on Dr.
+Greyson says that some day he will have to be undressed and dressed just
+like an infant. He has been nervous all day, as if he were watching for
+something. O, Tessa, I want to die, I want him to die, I can’t bear it
+any longer.”
+
+Tessa’s only reply was her fast dropping tears.
+
+“If he only had a mother,” said Laura; “I want him to have a mother now
+that he can never have a wife! If he only had been married, his wife
+would have clung to him, and loved him, and taken care of him. Don’t you
+think that God might have waited to bring this upon him until he was
+married?”
+
+“Oh, no, no, _no!_” shivered Tessa; “we do not know the best times for
+trouble to come. I shall always believe that after this.”
+
+“He always liked you better than any one; do you know that he has a
+picture of you taken when we went to the Institute? You have on a hat
+and sacque, and your school books are in your hand.”
+
+“I remember that picture! Has he kept it all this time?”
+
+“If he asks for you—he will hear your voice—will you go in?”
+
+“No, I can not see him,” she answered nervously.
+
+“Then I will walk down to the gate with you. He will be sure to ask, and
+I do not like to refuse him.”
+
+Walking slowly arm in arm as they used to walk from school years ago,
+they passed down the path, at first, speaking only of Felix, and then as
+they neared the gate, falling into light talk about Laura’s work, the
+new servant who was so kind to Felix, the plants that Laura had taken
+into the sitting-room, “to make it cosy for Felix this winter,” the
+shirts that she had cut out for him and their father, and intended to
+make on the machine; about the sewing society that was to meet
+to-morrow, a book that Felix was reading aloud evenings while their
+father dozed and she sewed, some Mayfield gossip about Dr. Towne, and
+their plan of taking Felix travelling next summer. Tessa listened and
+replied. She never had any thing to say about herself. Laura thought
+with Mrs. Wadsworth that Tessa had never had any “experiences.” Miss
+Jewett and Tessa’s father knew; but it was not because she had told
+them. What other people chattered about to each other she kept for her
+prayers.
+
+Laura cried a little when Tessa kissed her at the gate. “I wish that you
+wouldn’t go; I want you to stay and help me. Will you come again soon?”
+
+“I can’t,” she answered hurriedly.
+
+“Did Felix know that you were coming to-day?”
+
+Tessa’s eyes made answer enough; too much, for Laura understood.
+
+“I will not tell him that I know—but I had guessed it—I heard him
+praying once while we were away, and I knew that he was giving up
+_you_.”
+
+Tessa kissed her again, and without a word hurried away, walking with
+slower steps as she went on with her full eyes bent upon the ground.
+
+Was it so much to give up Tessa Wadsworth? What _was_ she that she could
+make such a difference in a man’s life? Was she lovable, after all,
+despite her quick words and sharp speeches? She was not pretty like
+Dinah, or “taking” like Sue; it was very pleasant to be loved for her
+own sake; “my own unattractive self,” she said. It would be very
+pleasant in that far-off time, when she reviewed her life, to remember
+that some one had loved her beside her father and Dine and Miss Jewett!
+And a good man, too; a man with brains, and a pure heart!
+
+Her ideal was a man with brains, and a pure heart; then why had she not
+loved Felix Harrison?
+
+“Oh, I don’t know,” she sighed. “I can’t understand.” Slowly, slowly,
+with her full eyes on the ground she went on, not heeding the sound of
+wheels, or gay voices, as a carriage passed her now and then; but as she
+went on, with her eyes still full for Felix, a light sound of wheels set
+her heart to beating, and she lifted her eyes to bow to Dr. Towne.
+
+In that instant her heart bowed before the Awful Will in acceptance of
+the love that had been given to her, even as other things in her lot had
+been given her, without any seeking or asking.
+
+“I can bear it,” she felt, filling the words with Paul’s thought, when
+he wrote, “I can do all things.”
+
+Dr. Towne drew the reins: she stood still on the edge of the foot-path.
+
+“My mother misses you, Miss Tessa.”
+
+“Does she? I am sorry, but I have to be so busy at home.”
+
+His sympathetic eyes were on her face. “I thought, that you were never
+troubled about any thing,” he said.
+
+“I am not—when I can help it.”
+
+“I left Sue Greyson up the road looking for you; I could not bring her
+to meet you, as my carriage holds but one; there was news in her face.”
+
+“Then I will go to hear.”
+
+The light sound of his wheels had died away before she espied Sue’s tall
+figure coming quickly towards her.
+
+“Oh, Tessa! How _could_ you go so far? Your mother said that you were
+here on this road, and that I should find you either up a tree or in the
+brook; I’ve got splendid news! guess! Did you meet Dr. Towne? He stopped
+and talked to me, but I wouldn’t tell him. He and his mother will know
+in time. Now, guess.”
+
+“Let me sit down and think. It will take time.”
+
+They had met near the brook at the corner of the road that turned past
+Old Place; on the corner stood a tall, bare walnut-tree, the gnarled
+roots covered a part of the knoll under which a slim thread of water
+trickled over moss and jagged flat stones, and then found its clear way
+into a broader channel and thence into the brook that crossed one of the
+Old Place meadows.
+
+These roots had been Tessa’s resting-place all summer; how many times
+she had looked up to read the advertisement of the clothier in Dunellen
+painted in black letters on a square board nailed to the trunk; how many
+times had she leaned back and looked down into the thread of water at
+the moss, and the pebbles, the tiny ferns and the tall weeds, turning to
+look down the road towards May field where the school-house stood, and
+then across the fields—the wheat fields, the corn fields—to the peach
+orchard beyond them, and beyond that the green slope of the fertile
+hill-side with its few dwellings, and above the slope the crooked green
+edge that met the sky—sometimes a blue sky, sometimes a sky of clouds,
+and sometimes gray with the damp clouds hanging low; thinking, as her
+eyes roved off her book, of some prank of Rob’s or some quaint saying of
+Sadie’s, of some little comforting thought that swelled in grandma’s
+patient, gentle heart, or of something sharp that Sadie’s snappish
+mother should say; sometimes she would take the sky home for her book
+and sometimes the weeds and the pebbles and the brook; and when it was
+not her book it was Felix—poor Felix!—or Dr. Lake, whom she loved more
+and more every day with the love that she would have loved a naughty,
+feeble, winsome child; or Mr. Towne, of his face that was ever with her
+like the memory of a picture that she had lingered before and could
+never forget, or of his voice and some words that he had spoken; or of
+her father and his failing strength and brave efforts to conceal it;
+sometimes a kind little thing that her mother had done for her, some
+self-denial or shame-faced demonstration of her love for her elder
+daughter, sometimes of Dine’s changeful moods, and often of the book of
+George Eliot’s that she was reading, or the latest of Charles Kingsley’s
+that she was discussing with Mr. Hammerton; thinking, musing, feeling,
+planning while she picked up a pebble or tore a weed into bits, or wrote
+a sentence in her pocket notebook! It was no wonder that this gnarled
+seat was so much to her that she lost herself and lost the words that
+Sue was speaking so rapidly.
+
+“You are not listening to me at all,” cried Sue at last “I might as well
+talk to the tree as to talk to you!”
+
+“I am listening; what is it?”
+
+“It’s all settled—splendidly settled—and I’m as happy as Cinderella when
+she found the Prince! Now guess!”
+
+“Well, then,” stooping to pick a weed that had gone to seed, “I guess
+that you have come to your right mind, that you will marry Stacey on
+Friday and all will go as merry as a marriage bell should.”
+
+“What a thing to guess! That’s too horrid! Guess again.”
+
+“You have grown good and ‘steady,’ you will keep house for your father
+and be what he is always calling you,—the comfort of his old age,—and
+forego lovers and such perplexities forever.”
+
+“That’s horrider still! Do guess something sensible.”
+
+“You are going to marry Dr. Lake. Your father has stormed and stormed,
+but now he has become mild and peaceable; you are to be married Friday
+morning and start off immediately in the sober certainty of waking
+bliss.”
+
+“Yes,” said Sue very seriously, “that is it. Every thing is as grand as
+a story-book, except that father will not give me the house for a
+wedding present. Oh, those wretched days since I saw you last! I did
+think that I would take laudanum or kill myself with a penknife. You
+don’t know what I have been through. Old Blue Beard is pious to what
+father has been; Gerald, _he_ kept out of the house. I should have run
+away before this, only I knew that father would come around and beg my
+pardon. He always does.”
+
+Tessa stooped to dip her fingers in the water.
+
+“And _this_ is your idea of marriage,” she said quietly.
+
+“No, it isn’t. I never looked forward to any thing like this; I always
+wanted something better. I am not doing very well, although I suppose
+there _are_ girls in Dunellen who would think Gerald a catch.”
+
+“Oh, Sue, Sue! when he loves you so! If he could hear you, it would
+break his heart!”
+
+“Take him yourself then, if you think he’s so much,” laughed Sue. “Nan
+Gerard will get the catch!”
+
+“Sue, I am ashamed of you!” exclaimed Tessa rising. “I am glad if you
+are happy—as happy as you know how to be. I want you to be happy—and
+_do_ be good to Dr. Lake.”
+
+How Sue laughed!
+
+“Oh, you dear old Goody Goody,” she cried, springing to her feet and
+throwing her arms around Tessa. “What else should I be to my own wedded
+husband? But it does seem queer so near to Old Place to be talking about
+marrying Dr. Lake.”
+
+“We’ll remember this place always, Sue, and that you promised to be kind
+to Dr. Lake.”
+
+“Yes, I’ll remember,” with a shadow passing over her face. “The next
+time you and I sit here it will be all over with me. I shall be out of
+lovers for the rest of my natural life.” She laughed and chatted all the
+way home; her listener was silent and sore at heart.
+
+“You will come to-morrow night and see the last of me, won’t you? This
+is what I came to ask you, ‘the last sad office’ isn’t that it? Sue
+Greyson will never ask you another favor.”
+
+“Yes, I will come.” She had always loved Sue Greyson. She did not often
+kiss her, but she kissed her now.
+
+“Don’t look so. Laugh, can’t you? If it is something terrible, it isn’t
+happening to you.”
+
+“The things that happen to me are the easiest to bear.”
+
+Sue crossed over to the planks and went on pondering this, then gave it
+up to wonder how she would wear her hair on her wedding morning; Tessa
+would make it look pretty any way, for she was born a hair-dresser.
+
+And Tessa went in and up-stairs, thinking of a remark of Miss Jewett’s:
+“I should not understand my life at all, it would be all in a tangle, if
+it were not for my prayers.”
+
+
+
+
+XVII.—THE NIGHT BEFORE.
+
+
+Two of the pretty crimson and brown chairs were drawn to the back parlor
+grate; Sue had kindled a fire in the back parlor because she felt
+“shivery,” beside, it had rained all day; the wedding morning promised
+to be chilly and rainy.
+
+Early after tea Dr. Greyson had been called away; Dr. Lake had not
+returned from a long drive, the latest Irish girl was singing lustily in
+the kitchen; Sue and Tessa were alone together before the fire. The
+white shades were down, the doors between the rooms closed, they were
+altogether cozy and comfortable. Almost as comfortable, Tessa was
+thinking, as if there were no dreaded to-morrow; but then she was the
+only person in the world who could see any thing to be dreaded in the
+to-morrow. Tessa’s fingers were moving in and out among the white wool
+that she was crocheting into a long comforter for her father; Sue sat
+idly restless looking into Tessa’s face or into the fire.
+
+Now and then Tessa spoke, now and then Sue ejaculated or laughed or
+sighed.
+
+“Life is too queer for any thing,” she said reflectively. “Don’t you
+know the minister said that Sunday that we helped to make our own lives?
+I have often thought of that.”
+
+Tessa’s wool was tangled, she unknotted it without replying.
+
+The rain plashed against the windows, a coal fell through the grate and
+dropped upon the fender.
+
+“I wonder how Stacey feels,” said Sue. “Perhaps he is taking out another
+girl to-night. That ring was large, it will not fit a small hand;
+perhaps he sold it, you can always get three quarters the worth of a
+diamond, I have heard people say.”
+
+Tessa’s lips were not encouraging, but Sue was not looking at her.
+
+“Gerald has the wedding ring in his pocket; I tried it on this noon. I
+wanted to wear it to get used to it, but he wouldn’t let me. He is
+sentimental like you. I expect that he is really enjoying carrying it
+around in his pocket. S. G. L. is written in it.”
+
+The rain plashed and Tessa worked; suddenly the door-bell gave a sharp
+clang, a moment later little Miss Jewett, in a waterproof, was ushered
+in.
+
+“I had to come, girls. I hope I don’t intrude.”
+
+“Intrude!” Both of Sue’s affectionate arms were around the wet figure.
+“Tessa is thinking of glum things to say to me, do sit down and say
+something funny.”
+
+The long waterproof was unbuttoned and hung upon the hat-stand in the
+hall, the rubbers were placed upon the hearth to dry, and the plump
+little woman pressed into Tessa’s arm-chair. Moving an ottoman to her
+side, Tessa sat with her arm upon the arm of her chair.
+
+“I’m _so_ glad to see you,” Sue cried, dropping into her own chair.
+“What a long walk you have had in the rain just to give me some good
+advice. Don’t you wish that Tessa was going off, too?”
+
+“Tessa will not go off till she is good and ready,” replied Miss Jewett,
+“and then she will go off to some purpose.”
+
+“Make a good match, do you mean?”
+
+“If she can find her match,” caressing the hand on the arm of the chair.
+
+“Oh, Miss Jewett, tell us a story! A real love story! Humor me just this
+once, this last time! I don’t like advice and I do like love stories.”
+
+“Do you, too, Tessa?”
+
+“Yes, I shall write one some day! They shall both be perfect and love
+each other perfectly. It shall not be an earthly story, but a heavenly
+one.”
+
+“That would be too tame,” said Sue. “I should want it to be a little
+wicked.”
+
+“That would be more like life—”
+
+“And then get good in the end! That is like life, too,” interrupted Sue.
+“Now, go on, please.”
+
+“Very well. To-night is an event, I suppose I may as well celebrate it.
+I will tell you about a present I had once, the most perfect gift I ever
+received.”
+
+“But I wanted a love story.”
+
+“And you think that _my_ story can not be that? Sometimes I think that
+unmarried people live the most perfect love stories.”
+
+Lifting the mass of white wool from Tessa’s lap and taking the needle,
+she worked half a minute before she spoke; Sue’s curious, bright eyes
+were on her face, Tessa’s were on the wool she was playing with.
+
+“Twenty-five years ago, when I was younger than I am now, and as intense
+and as full of aspirations as Tessa here, and as full of fun, as _you_,
+Sue Greyson, I boarded one winter with a widow. She was quite
+middle-aged and lived alone with her chickens and cat, very comfortably
+off, but she wanted a boarder or two for company. My store was a little
+affair then, but I was a busy body; I used to study and sew evenings.
+Ah, those evenings! I often think them over now as I sit alone. I shall
+never forget that winter. I _grew_. The widow and I were not alone;
+before I had been there a week a young man came, he was scarcely older
+than I—”
+
+Sue laughed and looked at Tessa.
+
+“He was to sail away in the spring to some dreadful place,—that sounds
+like you, Sue,—to be a missionary!”
+
+“A _missionary!_” exclaimed Sue.
+
+“Every evening he read aloud to us, usually poetry or the Bible. Poetry
+meant something to me then—that sounds like you, Tessa. One evening he
+read Esther, one evening Ruth, and when he read Nehemiah, oh, how
+enthusiastic we were! He talked and talked and talked, and I listened
+and listened and listened till all my heart went out to meet him.”
+
+“Ah,” cried Sue, “to think of you being in love, Miss Jewett. I didn’t
+know that you were ever so naughty!”
+
+“At last the time came that he must go—the very last evening. I thought
+that those evenings could never end, but they did. I could hardly see my
+stitches for tears; I was making over a black bombazine for the widow,
+and the next evening I had to rip my work out! He read awhile,—he was
+reading _Rasselas_ that night,—and then he dropped the book and talked
+of his work and the life he expected to lead.
+
+“‘You ought to take a wife,’ said the widow.
+
+“‘No woman will ever love me well enough to go to such a place with me,’
+he said.
+
+“Just then I dropped the scissors and had to bend down to pick them up.
+The widow went out into the kitchen to set the sponge for her bread and
+clear out the stove for morning, and we stayed alone and talked. We
+talked about whether he would be homesick and seasick, and how glad he
+would be of letters from home; not that he had many friends to write to
+him, though; and I sewed on and on, and threaded my needle, and dropped
+my scissors, and almost cried because all I cared for in the wide world
+would sail away with him, and he would never know!
+
+“‘The best of friends must part,’ he said when she brought in his candle
+and lighted it for him.
+
+“In the morning, we all arose early and took our last breakfast together
+by lamplight. She shook hands with him twice, and wished him all sorts
+of good wishes, and then he held out his hand to me and said, ‘Good-by.’
+I said, ‘Good-by.’ And then he said, ‘You have given me a very pleasant
+winter; I shall often think of it.’ And I said, ‘Thank you,’ and ran
+away up-stairs to cry by myself. That was five and twenty years
+ago—before you were born, Sue, and before Tessa could creep; there were
+wet eyes in the world, before you were born, girls, and there will be
+wet eyes long after we are all dead; and always for the same
+reason—because somebody loves somebody.
+
+“He is a hard worker—I rejoice in his life. Five years ago he came home,
+but not to Dunellen; he had no friends here; after resting awhile he
+returned to his field of labor, and died before he reached it, but was
+buried in the place he loved better than home.
+
+“I thought of him and loved him and prayed for him through those twenty
+years. I think of him and love him and give thanks for him now, and
+shall till I die and afterwards!”
+
+“Why didn’t you go with him?” asked Sue.
+
+“He did not ask me.”
+
+“Would you if he had?”
+
+“I certainly should.”
+
+“Couldn’t you bring him to the point? It would have been easy enough.”
+
+“The gentleman did the asking in those days,” Sue laughed. “And wasn’t
+he ever married?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“What a pity! I thought that every thing always went right for people
+like you and Tessa. But I don’t see where the perfect gift comes in, do
+you, Tessa?”
+
+“Yes, but I’m afraid that I don’t want such a perfect gift. I couldn’t
+bear it—twenty years.”
+
+“Tell me—I can’t guess. Did he give you something?”
+
+“No, _he_ did not.”
+
+“Didn’t he love _you?_”
+
+“No, he did not love me.”
+
+“Where is the gift then?”
+
+“My love for him was my perfect gift. It was given by One in whom there
+is no shadow of turning.”
+
+“I am not strong enough to receive such a gift,” said Tessa looking
+troubled.
+
+“Oh, dear me, I hope not. Oh, dear me, horrid! What a story to tell the
+night before my wedding! All I care about is about _being loved!_ I
+didn’t know that the loving made any difference or did any good! That
+story is too sorrowful. Gerald would like that.”
+
+The long ivory needle moved in and out; the fair face, half a century
+old, was full of loveliness.
+
+“That is for you to remember all your life, Sue.”
+
+“I sha’n’t. I shall forget it. I only remember pleasant things.”
+
+“I wonder if Fredrika Bremer were as happy as you, Miss Jewett. She says
+that a gentleman inspired her with a ‘pure and warm feeling,’ that it
+was never responded to, and yet it had a powerful influence upon her
+development.”
+
+“Was she _real?_” inquired Sue. “I thought that she only wrote books.”
+
+“It takes very real people to write,” answered Tessa. “The more real you
+are, the more you are called to write.”
+
+Slipping off the low chair, down to the rug, Sue laid her head in Miss
+Jewett’s lap, the white wool half concealing the braids and curls and
+frizzes, the thin, excited face was turned toward the fire, the brown
+eyes, wild and yet timid, were misty with tears.
+
+Miss Jewett and Tessa Wadsworth were the only people in the world who
+had ever seen this phase of Sue Greyson.
+
+Dr. Lake had never seen her subdued or frightened. At this instant she
+was both. There were some things that Sue could feel; there were not any
+that she could understand.
+
+“Sometimes,” said Sue, in a hollow whisper, “I’m so afraid, I want to
+run away; I was afraid I might run away and so I asked Tessa to come
+to-night.”
+
+“My dear!” Miss Jewett’s warm lips touched her forehead.
+
+“Oh, it isn’t any thing! I like Gerald; I adore him. I wouldn’t marry
+him if I didn’t! I am always afraid of a leap into the dark, and I am
+always jumping into dark places.”
+
+“It is a leap for _him_, too, Sue; you seem to forget that,” suggested
+Tessa.
+
+“You always think of him, you never think of me.”
+
+“It is a pity for no one to think of him; if I were to be married
+to-morrow, I should cry all night, out of pity for the hapless
+bridegroom.”
+
+“Tessa, you ridiculous child,” exclaimed Miss Jewett.
+
+“In books,” Sue went on, still with her face turned from them, “girls
+choose the one they are to marry out of all the world. Why don’t we?”
+
+“We do,” said Tessa.
+
+“We don’t. We take somebody because he asks us and nobody else asks.”
+
+“_I_ will not. I do not believe that God means it so. He chooses that we
+shall satisfy the best and hungriest part of ourselves, and the best
+part is the hungriest, and the hungriest the best; we may not have
+opportunity in one year, or two years, or ten years, but if we wait He
+will give us the things we most need! He did not give us any longing
+simply to make us go crying through the universe; the longing is His
+message making known to us that the good thing _is_. I will not be false
+to myself, cheating myself by shutting my eyes and saying, ‘Ah, _this_
+is good! I have found my choice,’ when my whole soul protests, knowing
+that it is a lie. I can wait.”
+
+“Oh, Tessa!” laughed Sue. “Doesn’t she talk like a book? I never half
+know what she means when she goes into such hysterics. Do you expect to
+get all your good things?”
+
+“All _my_ good things! Yes, every single one; it is only a question of
+time. God can not forget, nor can He die. I shall not be discouraged
+until I am sure that He is dead.”
+
+“O, Tessa, you are wicked,” cried Sue.
+
+“You remind me of something,” said Miss Jewett. “‘Blessed are all they
+that wait _for Him_.’”
+
+“I can’t wait for my blessings,” said Sue; “I want to snatch them.”
+
+Gently pushing aside Sue’s head, Tessa found her work and her needle;
+she worked silently while Sue laughed and grumbled and Miss Jewett
+talked, not over Sue’s head as Tessa’s habit was, but into her heart.
+
+“Sue, I shall lose you in Bible class.”
+
+“I never answered any questions or studied any lesson, you will not care
+for my empty place. Gerald is getting awfully good; he reads the Bible
+and Prayer-book every night; every morning when I go in to fix up his
+room, I find them on a little table by his bed; I suppose he reads in
+bed nights. He used to be bad and talk dreadful things when he first
+came; did you ever hear him, Tessa?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“But he’s awful good now; he thinks that people ought to go to church,
+and say their prayers; I hope he will keep it up; _I_ will not hinder
+him. I want to be good, too.”
+
+Tessa’s needle moved in and out; she did not hear Sue’s voice, or see
+the kneeling, green figure; her eyes were looking upon the face she had
+looked down into that evening in January, such a little time since; and
+she was hearing her voice as she heard it in the night. Had she
+forgotten so soon? Or was it the remembrance that gave her the unrest
+to-night? Was she conscious without understanding? And had _her_ Ralph
+Towne done this? After having withdrawn himself from Sue, was he keeping
+her from seeing the good and the happiness of marriage with Dr. Lake?
+Would the thought of him come between her and the contentment that she
+might have had?
+
+But no, she was putting herself into Sue’s position; that would not do;
+it was Sue’s self and not her own self that she must analyze! If she
+could tell Ralph Towne her fears to-night, his eyes would grow dark and
+grave, and then he would toss the feeling away with his amused laugh and
+say, “Sue is not deep enough for that! She did not care for me. Why must
+you think a romance about her?”
+
+Was she not deep enough for that? Who could tell that?
+
+She listened to Sue’s lively talk and tried to believe that his reply
+would be just; the one most bitter thought of all was, that if she were
+suffering it was through his selfishness or stupidity. Why must he be so
+stupid about such things? Had he no heart himself?
+
+Sue was laughing again. “Oh, dear! I must be happy; if I am not I shall
+be unhappy! It would kill me to be unhappy! I never think of unpleasant
+things five minutes.”
+
+The sound of wheels near the windows, and a call to “Jerry” in a loud,
+quick voice, brought them all to a startling sense of the present.
+
+“There he is,” cried Sue, springing lightly to her feet.
+
+Tessa was relieved that she said “he” instead of “Gerald” or “Dr. Lake.”
+
+“If you will not stay all night, too, Miss Jewett, he shall take you
+home.”
+
+“I can not, dear. I only came because I wanted to talk with Sue Greyson
+once more before I lost her.”
+
+Rubbers and waterproof were hurried on, and Tessa was left alone with
+the fire, the rain, and her work.
+
+Suppose that it were herself who was to be married to-morrow—
+
+Would she wish to run away? Run away from whom? Although her Ralph Towne
+had died and been buried, that old, sharp, sweet, memory was wrapped
+around her still; it would always be sweet although so sharp—and
+bitterly, bitterly sharp although so sweet; if it might become wholly
+the one or wholly the other, but it could never be that; never unless
+she learned Love’s lesson as Mrs. Towne had laid it before her. But that
+was so utterly and hopelessly beyond her present growth!
+
+Would he despise her if he could know how much that happy time was in
+her thoughts? Was she tenacious where stronger minds would forget? He
+would think her weak and romantic like the heroine of a story paper
+novel; that is, if he could think weak any thing so wholly innocent.
+
+She trusted the emerald ring on her finger; at times it burned into her
+flesh; sometimes she tore it off that she might forget her promise, and
+then—oh, foolish, incomprehensible, womanly Tessa!—she would take it
+again and slip it on with a reverence and love for the old memory that
+she could not be ashamed of although she tried.
+
+Had she been too hard upon Ralph Towne in their latest interview? Why
+need she have given shape to her hitherto unspoken thoughts concerning
+his life; she could not tell him of her prayers that he might change and
+yet become—for it was not too late—the good, good man that she had once
+believed him to be. He had taken away her faith in himself; he might
+give it back, grown stronger, if he would. If he only would!
+
+Dr. Greyson’s step was in the hall; Sue’s voice was less excited, her
+father was speaking quietly to her. Sue, poor Sue! She would never be
+again the free, wild Sue Greyson that she was to-night.
+
+Tessa felt Dr. Lake’s mood; she could have written out his thoughts, as
+he drove homeward in the rain; she dreaded his hilarious entrance, how
+his eyes would shine, with tears close behind them!
+
+Her reverie was interrupted by the entrance that she dreaded. “Ah,
+Mystic, praying for my happiness here alone! I know you are. I come to
+be congratulated.”
+
+“I congratulate you,” she said rising and taking his hand. Not so very
+long afterward, when she saw his cold, dead hands folded together and
+touched them, she remembered with starting tears this soft, hot,
+clinging clasp.
+
+“You didn’t dream of this two months ago, did you?” he cried, dropping
+into the chair that Sue had been sitting in. “You didn’t know that I was
+born under a lucky star despite all my woeful past. I have turned over a
+new leaf; I turned it over to-night in the rain; it is chapter first.
+Such a white page, Mystic. Don’t you want to write something on it for
+me?”
+
+“I wouldn’t dare.”
+
+“Oh, yes, you would! What do you wish for me? Write that.”
+
+“I wish for you—” she rolled the white wool over her hand.
+
+“Well, go on! Something that must come true!”
+
+“—The love that suffers long and is _kind_.”
+
+“Whew!” He drew a long breath. “There is no place for that in me.”
+
+Sue entered noisily. She did every thing noisily.
+
+“Come here, Susan.” Dr. Lake caught her in his arms, but she slipped
+through them, moving to Tessa’s side, seating herself upon the rug, and
+resting both hands in Tessa’s lap.
+
+“I was reading the other day”—he stooped to smooth Sue’s flounce—“of a
+fellow who fell dead upon his wedding day, as soon as the knot was tied.
+Perhaps it was tied too tight and choked him. Suppose I drop dead,
+Susan, will you like to be a bewitching young widow so soon? Whom would
+you find to flirt with before night?”
+
+“Gerald, you are wicked!”
+
+“Probably this bridegroom had heart disease. I haven’t heart disease,
+except for you, my Shrine, my Heart’s Desire.”
+
+“Isn’t he wretched, Tessa? He tells me all kinds of stories about people
+dying of joy!”
+
+He bent forward, drawing her towards him backward, and with both arms
+around her, kissed the top of her head and her forehead.
+
+“You mustn’t do so before folks,” said Sue shaking herself free.
+
+“Mystic isn’t folks! She is my guardian angel.”
+
+“I know that you would rather have married her.”
+
+“But she wouldn’t rather have married me, would you, Mystic?”
+
+“I can’t imagine it,” returned Tessa, as seriously as he had spoken.
+“Set your jealous heart at rest, Sue.”
+
+“I never thought of it, but once in my life,” he continued, musingly,
+“and that was when I was down in the deeps about you, Susan; I did think
+that she might drag me out—a drowning man, you know, will catch at a
+straw. It was one night when she was weeding her pansies and refused to
+ride with me. I’m glad that you never _did_ refuse me, Mystic, you
+couldn’t be setting there so composedly.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I would; I should have known that you were insane.”
+
+“I was insane—all one week.”
+
+“I believe that,” said Sue.
+
+“I wonder what we shall all be thinking about the next time that we
+three sit here together! It will be too late for us to go back then,
+Susan; the die will be cast, the Rubicon crossed, another poor man
+undone forever. Are you regretting it, child?” drawing her again towards
+him backward and gazing down into her face. “Shall we quit at this last
+last minute? Speak the word! You never shall throw it up at me, that I
+urged you into it. It will be a mess for us if we do hate each other
+after awhile.”
+
+“I will never hate you, Gerald.”
+
+“But I might hate you, though, who knows?” smoothing her hair with his
+graceful, weak hands.
+
+“Then Tessa shall be peacemaker,” said Sue straightening herself.
+
+“No; I will not,” replied Tessa, gathering her work and rising. “Sue,
+you will find me up-stairs.”
+
+“Then I’m coming, too; I don’t want to stay and be sentimental. Gerald
+will talk—I know him—and I will cry, and how I would look to-morrow! I
+want you to do a little fixing for me and to try my hair low and then
+high.”
+
+“I like it high,” said Dr. Lake.
+
+“I don’t. I like it low. Tessa you shall try it low, like Nan Gerard’s.
+Say, Gerald, shall I put on my dress after she has fixed my hair and
+come down and let you see it.”
+
+“I think I have seen it. Didn’t you try it on for me and tell me that
+that fellow liked it? I hate that dress; if you dress to please me, you
+will wear the one you have on now.”
+
+“This old thing! I see myself. No, I shall wear my wedding dress. It
+fits to perfection. I want to look pretty once in my life.”
+
+“You will never look prettier than you do this minute! Come here,”
+opening his arms towards her.
+
+“No, I won’t. Let me alone, Dr. Lake.”
+
+Tessa was already on the stairs; Sue ran towards her laughing and
+screaming, the parlor door was closed with a bang.
+
+“Now he’s angry,” cried Sue, tripping on the stairs. “I don’t care; he
+wants me to stay and talk sentiment, and I _hate_ being sentimental.
+And, Tessa, you sha’n’t talk to me, either.”
+
+“Where is your father?” inquired Tessa, standing on the threshold of
+Sue’s chamber.
+
+“In the dining-room drying his feet and drinking a cup of coffee.”
+
+“Don’t you want to go down and say good night? He will lose every thing
+when he loses you.”
+
+Sue hesitated. “I don’t know how to be tender and loving, I should make
+a fool of myself; he isn’t over and above pleased with this thing
+anyway; he never did pet me as your father has petted you. Your father
+is like a mother. He said once when I was a little girl that he wished
+that I had died and Freddie had lived; Freddie was two years older and
+as bright as a button. Father loved him. I shall never forget that; I
+shall never forgive him no matter how kind he is to me. And he swears at
+me when he is angry with me; he used to, but Gerald told him that he
+should not swear at _his_ wife! Father said that he didn’t mean any
+thing by it. Gerald will be kinder to me than father has been; father
+swears at me in one breath and calls me the comfort of his old age in
+the next. You can’t turn him into your father if you talk about him all
+night.”
+
+“But he will be glad if you go down; he will think of it some day and so
+will you.”
+
+“He isn’t sentimental and I can’t be. Besides I have some things to put
+into my trunk, and I want to put a ruffle into my wrapper that I may
+have it all ready. It’s eleven o’clock now; we shall not be asleep
+to-night.”
+
+Tessa urged no more; it was not her father who was drying his feet and
+drinking his coffee down-stairs alone on the night before her wedding
+day. How he would look at her and take her into his arms with tears.
+
+Sue opened her trunk. “Gerald’s things are all in. It does seem queer to
+have his things packed up with mine. And when we come home every thing
+will go on just the same only I shall be Mrs. Lake instead of Miss
+Greyson.”
+
+As Tessa stood behind her arranging her hair, She said, “There, I like
+that. I almost look like Nan Gerard. What do you think she said to-day?
+She was here with Mary Sherwood to see father and they saw Mr. Ralph in
+my album. ‘That’s the man I intend to marry,’ she said, ‘eyes, money,
+and all.’ Mary scolded her but she only laughed. She said that if she
+couldn’t get him, she should take the professor, for he was just as
+handsome and could talk about something beside paregoric and postmortem
+examinations.”
+
+Tessa said nothing. How she had pitied Nan Gerard, and how harshly she
+had misjudged Dr. Towne. She was awakened in the night by Sue’s voice—
+
+“Put your arm around me, Tessa.”
+
+The long night ended at last in the dull dawn, for it was raining still.
+Tessa had slept fitfully; Sue had lain perfectly quiet, not speaking
+again or moving.
+
+At eleven o’clock Sue and Dr. Lake were married. Dr. Greyson sat with
+his head in his hands, turned away from them, his broad frame shaking
+from head to foot; Tessa did not look at Dr. Lake: she sat on a sofa
+beside Mrs. Towne, with her eyes fixed on the carpet. Sue cried and
+laughed together when her father kissed her; she drew herself to the
+full height of Mrs. Gerald Lake, when Dr. Towne shook hands with her. At
+half past twelve the bride and bridegroom were driven to the depot;
+Tessa remained to give a few orders to the servants, and was then taken
+home in Dr. Towne’s carriage.
+
+“It seems to me as lonely as a funeral,” she said; “and Sue is laughing
+and eating chocolate cream drops this very minute. Marriage should be a
+leap into the sunshine.”
+
+“I hope that yours will be,” her companion said in his gravest tone.
+
+“If it ever _is_, you may rest assured that it will be. It will be the
+very happiest sunshine that ever shone out of heaven.”
+
+She was learning to talk to Dr. Towne as easily as she talked to her
+father, for he was the one man in the world that she was sure that she
+would never marry; she knew that he desired it as little as she did
+herself.
+
+“Why will it be so happy?”
+
+“Because I shall wait till I am _satisfied_.”
+
+“Satisfied with him? You will never be that.”
+
+“Then I shall wither in single blessedness; I shall be unhappily not
+married instead of unhappily married.”
+
+“Philip Towne is your ideal.”
+
+“I know it,” she said. “I like to think that he is in the world. He
+makes me as happy as a pansy.”
+
+“Women are never happy with their ideals.”
+
+“They seldom have an opportunity of testing it; Professor Towne has a
+pure heart and he has brains.”
+
+Dr. Towne answered in words that she never forgot, “That is what he says
+of you.”
+
+“Oh, I am so glad! I like to have that said of me better than any
+thing.”
+
+She remembered, but she would not tell him, that a lady had said of him,
+having seen him but a few moments, and not having heard him speak, that
+he was a “rock.”
+
+“And I love rocks and know all about them,” she had added.
+
+“They give shadow in a weary land,” Tessa had thought. “I have been in a
+weary land and he has _not_ been a shadow to me.”
+
+After a silent moment he spoke, “Don’t you think that you were rather
+hard on me last week?”
+
+“Yes,” she said frankly, “I have thought it all over; I intended to tell
+you that I was sorry; I _am_ sorry; I will not do so again.”
+
+“Till next time?”
+
+“There shall not be any next time; in my thoughts I have been very
+unjust to you; I have come nearer hating, really _hating_ you, than any
+other person I ever knew. I am sorry; I am always sorry to be unjust.”
+
+One look into the sunshiny eyes satisfied her that she was forgiven. It
+almost seemed as if they were on the old confidential footing.
+
+“Have you gathered any autumn leaves?” he asked.
+
+“Yes, some beautiful ones. I did not get any last year—” She stopped,
+confused.
+
+She had lived through her year without him. Was he remembering last
+October, too?
+
+About sunset it cleared; she was glad for Dr. Lake’s sake; about the
+bride she did not think; Sue would be thankful if none of her bridal
+finery were spoiled.
+
+The evening mail brought a letter from Dinah.
+
+There were two pieces of news in it, in both of which Tessa was
+interested. The school-master was twenty-one years of age, “a lovable
+fellow, the room grows dark when he goes out of it, and he likes best
+the books that I do.” This came first, she read on to find that
+Professor Towne’s mother and sister had come this summer to the house
+over the way, that Miss Towne was “perfectly lovely” and had been an
+invalid for fifteen years, not having put her foot to the ground in all
+that time; she could move about on the first floor, but passed most of
+her time in a chair, reading, writing, and doing the most beautiful
+fancy work. She was beautiful, like Professor Towne, but the mother was
+only a fussy old lady. Her name was Sarepta!
+
+Dinah’s letters were rather apt to be ecstatic and incoherent. Tessa
+wrote five pages in her book that night and a foolscap sheet to Dinah.
+
+She fell asleep thinking of what Professor Towne had said about her.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.—MOODS.
+
+
+All through the month of October she felt cross, sometimes she looked
+cross, but she did not speak one cross word, not even once; she was not
+what we call “sweet” in her happiest moods, but she was thoroughly sound
+in her temper and often a little, just a very little, sharp. Never sharp
+to her father, however, because she reverenced him, and never to her
+mother because she was pitiful towards her; she could appreciate so few
+of life’s best havings and givings, that Tessa could never make her
+enjoyment less by speaking the thoughts that, at times, almost forced
+their own utterance; therefore her mood was kept to herself all through
+the month.
+
+There was no month in the year that she loved as well as she loved
+October; in any of its days it was a trial to be kept within doors.
+
+She would have phrased her mood as “cross” if she had had the leisure or
+the inclination to keep a diary; she had kept a journal during the first
+year of her friendship with Ralph Towne and had burned it before the
+year was ended in one of her times of being ashamed of herself.
+
+One of the happenings that irritated her was the finding in her desk a
+scrap of a rhyme that she had written one summer day after a talk with
+Ralph Towne; she dropped it into the parlor grate chiding herself for
+ever having been so nonsensical and congratulating herself upon having
+outgrown it.
+
+It was called _The Silent Side_ and was the story of a maiden wandering
+in the twilight up a lane bordered with daisies, somebody didn’t come
+and her eyes grew tired of watching and her heart beat faint with
+waiting, so she wandered down the daisy-bordered lane! She did feel a
+little tender over the last lines even if she were laughing over it:
+
+ “‘Father,’ she said, ‘I may not say,
+ But will _you_ not tell him I love him so?”
+
+Had any one in all the world of maidenhood beside her ever prayed such a
+prayer? Old words came to her: “Thou knowest my foolishness.”
+
+The rhyme was dated the afternoon that Ralph Towne had said—but what
+right had she to remember anything that he had said? He had forgotten
+and despised her for remembering; but he could not despise her as much
+as she despised herself!
+
+Why was it that understanding him as she certainly did understand him,
+that she knew that she would fly to the ends of the earth with him if he
+should take her hand and say, “Come”; that is, she was _afraid_ that she
+would. It was no marvel that the knowledge gave her a feeling of
+discomfort, of intense dissatisfaction with herself; how woefully wrong
+she must be for such a thing to be true!
+
+On the blank side of a sheet of manuscript, she scribbled a stanza that
+haunted her; it gave expression to the life she had lived during the two
+years just passed.
+
+ “A nightingale made a mistake;
+ She sang a few notes out of tune;
+ Her heart was ready to break,
+ And she hid from the moon.”
+
+In this month her book was accepted; that check for two hundred and six
+dollars gave pleasure that she and others remembered all their lives;
+with this check came one for fifteen dollars for Dinah; she almost
+laughed her crossness away over Dine’s little check.
+
+Dine’s reply was characteristic:
+
+“Thus endeth my first and last venture upon the literary sea; I follow
+in your wake no longer.
+
+“If it were matrimony now—
+
+“John (isn’t John a grand, strong name?) doesn’t like literary women. He
+reads Owen Meredith to me, and Miss Mulock. He says that I am like Miss
+Mulock’s _Edna_.”
+
+Each letter of Dine’s teemed with praises of John Woodstock; she thought
+that he was like Adam Bede, or Ninian in “Head of the Family,” or
+perhaps Max in “A Life for a Life”; she was lonely all day long without
+him, and as happy as she could be on earth with him all the long
+evenings.
+
+Tessa frowned over the letters; Dine made no allusion to him in letters
+written to her father and mother; her whole loving, girlish heart she
+poured out to Tessa. And Tessa cried over them and prayed over them.
+
+Sue returned from her bridal tour undeniably miserable; even the radiant
+mood of Dr. Lake was much subdued. Tessa met them together at Mrs.
+Towne’s one evening, two days after the coming home, and was cut to the
+heart by their manner towards each other: she was defiant; he,
+imploring.
+
+“I’m sorry I’m married any way,” she exclaimed.
+
+“Don’t say that,” he remonstrated, his face flushing painfully.
+
+“I will say it—I _do_ say it! I _am_ sorry!”
+
+“You know that you don’t mean it.”
+
+“Yes, I do mean it, too.”
+
+Dr. Towne glanced at Tessa and gave an embarrassed laugh. Mrs. Towne’s
+expression became severe; Tessa could have shaken Sue. Nan Gerard turned
+on the music stool with her most perfect laugh; Tessa could have shaken
+_her_ for the enlightenment that ran through it.
+
+“We will have no more music after that,” said Professor Towne.
+
+Sue bade Tessa good night holding both her hands. “I wish I had married
+Stacey,” she whispered.
+
+“Don’t tell Dr. Lake, I beg of you.”
+
+“Oh, he knows it. Come and see me.”
+
+“No, I will not. You shall not talk to me about your husband.”
+
+“I will if I want to. You must come.”
+
+“Do come,” urged Dr. Lake coming towards them. But she would not
+promise.
+
+The last Saturday evening in October found Tessa alone before the fire
+in Mrs. Towne’s sitting-room; Mrs. Towne was not well, and had sent for
+her to come; she had gone to her sleeping room immediately after tea,
+and asked Tessa to come to her in two hours.
+
+She was in a “mood”; so she called it to herself, a mood in which
+self-analysis held the prominent place; her heart was aching, she knew
+not for what, she hardly cared, if the aching might be taken away and
+she could go to sleep and then awake to find the sun shining.
+
+For the last hour she had been curled up in a crimson velvet chair, part
+of the time with her head bowed upon the arm; there were tears on her
+eyelashes, on her fingers, and on the crimson velvet. In the low light,
+she was but a gray figure crowned with chestnut braids, and only that
+Ralph Towne saw when he entered noiselessly through the half open door.
+
+Tessa thought that no one in the world moved so gently or touched her so
+lightly as Ralph Towne. He stood an instant beside her before she
+stirred, then she raised her head slowly, ashamed of her flushed, wet
+cheeks. She could not hide from the moon.
+
+“Well?” she said, thinking of her eyes and cheeks.
+
+“Are you dreaming dreams alone, here in the dark?”
+
+“I’m afraid so; I dream too many dreams; I want something real; I do not
+like the stuff that dreams are made of.”
+
+“You are real enough.” He leaned against the low mantel with one elbow
+resting upon it; she did not lift her eyes; she was afraid. Had he come
+to say something to her?
+
+“Miss Tessa.”
+
+She did not reply, she was rubbing her fingers over the crimson velvet.
+
+“I have been thinking of something that I wish to say to you.”
+
+“Well, I am approachable,” in a light, saucy voice.
+
+“Think well before you speak; it is a question that, middle-aged as I
+am, I never asked any woman before; I want to ask you to become my
+wife.”
+
+She had raised her eyes in surprise, unfeigned surprise.
+
+“You need not look like that,” he said irritably; “you look as if you
+had never thought of it.”
+
+“I have not—for a long time; perhaps I did once—before I became old and
+wise. I _am_ surprised, I can not understand it; I was so sure that you
+could never care for me.”
+
+“Why should I not? It is the most natural thing in the world.”
+
+“I do not think so; I can not understand.”
+
+“Accept it upon my testimony, do not try to understand it.”
+
+He betrayed no feeling, except in his quickened tone; she was too
+bewildered to be conscious of any feeling at all; she listened to the
+sound of her own voice, as if another were speaking; she remembered
+afterward, that for once in her life she had heard the sound of her own
+voice. She was thinking, “My voice _is_ pleasant, only so cold and
+even.”
+
+“Will you not answer me?”
+
+She was thinking; she had forgotten to answer.
+
+“Why should you like me?” she said at last.
+
+“There’s reason enough, allow me to judge; but you do not come to the
+point.”
+
+“I do not know how.”
+
+“I thought that coming to the point was one of your excellences.”
+
+“Your question—your assertion rather—is something very new.”
+
+She could see the words; she was reciting them from a printed page.
+
+“Don’t you know whether you like me or not?” he asked in the old
+assured, boyish way.
+
+“No, I do not know that; if I did I should care for what you are saying,
+and now I do not care. Once, in that time when I loved you and you did
+not care, I would have died with joy to hear you say what you have said;
+my heart would have stopped beating; I should have been too glad to
+live; but perhaps when _that_ you went away and died, the Tessa that
+loved you went away and died, too. I think that I _did_ die—of shame.
+Now I hear you speak the words that I used to pray then every night that
+you might speak to me, and now I do not care! When I was little I cried
+myself sick once for something I wanted, and when mother gave it to me I
+was too sick and tired to care. No, I do not want to marry you, Dr.
+Towne, I am too sick and tired to love you.”
+
+“Why do you not want to marry me?”
+
+“Because—because—” she looked up into his grave eyes—“I do not want to;
+I am not satisfied with you.”
+
+“Why are you not satisfied with me?”
+
+“I do not know.”
+
+“Are you disappointed in me? Have I changed?”
+
+“Oh, no,” she said sorrowfully, “you have not changed—not since I have
+known you this time. It is like this, as if I were blind when I knew you
+before, and I loved you for what you were to me; but as I could not see
+you, I loved you for what I imagined you to be, and now, I am not blind,
+my eyes are wide, wide open, and I look at you and wonder ‘where is the
+one I knew?’ I do not know you; you are a stranger to me; I would love
+you if I could; I can not say _yes_ and not love you. I have never told
+any one, but I may tell you now. While you were away at St. Louis, I
+promised to marry some one; he had loved me all my life, and I was so
+heart-broken because of the mistake that I had made about you; and I
+wanted some one to care for me, so that I might forget how I loved
+somebody that did not love me. And then I was wild when I knew what I
+had done! I did not love him; I felt as if I were bound in iron; I shall
+never forget that. I do not want to feel bound in iron to you. Why did
+you not ask me last year when you knew how I cared for you?”
+
+He dropped his eyes, the hot color flushing even to his forehead. “I
+could not—sincerely.”
+
+“Why did you act as if you liked me?”
+
+“I did like you. I did not love you. I did not understand. I can not
+tell you how unhappy I was when I found that you had misunderstood me. I
+would not have hurt you for all the universe; I did not dream that you
+could misunderstand me; I was attracted to you; I did not know that I
+manifested any stronger feeling. Surely you have forgiven me.”
+
+“Yes, I have forgiven you; I did not really blame you; I knew that you
+did not understand. You are a stupid fellow about women.—You are only a
+stupid, dear, big boy.”
+
+“But you do not answer me.”
+
+“I _have_ answered you. Do you ask me sincerely now?” she asked
+curiously.
+
+“You know I do,” he said angrily.
+
+“Do you ask me because Miss Gerard has refused you?” with a flash of
+merriment crossing her face.
+
+“I never asked Miss Gerard.”
+
+“Did you flirt with her?”
+
+“I suppose you give it that name. I was attracted towards her, of
+course, but I soon found that she had no depth; she would cling to me, I
+could not shake her off. I took her to Mayfield this morning; she asked
+to go, I could not refuse the girl. She has made several pretty things
+for me; I showed my appreciation by buying pieces of jewelry for her;
+was that flirting? I never kissed her, or said I loved her, or talked
+any nonsense to her.”
+
+“Of course not. You do not know how.”
+
+“I know how to talk sense, Miss Tessa.”
+
+“Are you asking me because your mother loves me so much?”
+
+“Is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?”
+
+“Yes,” she said, her eyes filling at his tone, “I can not believe it. It
+is as if you had put both hands around my throat and choked my breath
+away and then said politely, ‘Excuse me.’”
+
+“Is my love so little to you as that?”
+
+“I have not seen it yet; you _say_ you love me, that is all.”
+
+“Is not that enough?”
+
+“It can not be enough, for it does not satisfy me. I have believed so
+long that you despised me; one word from you can not change it all.”
+
+“Is there something wrong about me?”
+
+“Wrong? Oh, no. How could there be? I do believe that you are a _good_
+man.”
+
+“You think that you can not be happy with me?” he asked patiently.
+
+“I am happy enough always, everywhere; I was as happy as a bird in a
+tree before I knew you; you set me to crying for something, and then
+held out your hand empty.”
+
+“I love you; isn’t that full enough?”
+
+“No, that is not full enough. I want you to _be_ all that I believed you
+to be. I shall not be satisfied till then. When you think of me you may
+think of me hungering and thirsting for you to be all that I can dream
+of your being—all that God is willing to make you.”
+
+The light had died out of his eyes.
+
+“Do you know some one that does satisfy you?”
+
+“I know good people, but they do not satisfy me.”
+
+“Philip Towne?”
+
+“I should as soon think of loving St. John.”
+
+“Tell me, _do_ you love him?”
+
+“Dr. Towne, I never thought of such a thing!” she said with quick
+indignation.
+
+“You are a Mystic; Dr. Lake has named you true. Come, be sensible and
+don’t talk riddles; don’t talk like a book; talk plain, good sense; say
+_yes_, and leave all your whims behind you forever.”
+
+“Loving you was a whim; shall I leave that behind forever?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then I could not endure your presence; it is that that keeps you near
+me now. It is not enough for you to love me; I should die of hunger if I
+did not love you.”
+
+“Love me, then.”
+
+Her head went down upon the arm of the chair; she covered her face with
+both hands; a childish attitude she often assumed when alone.
+
+“I can’t, I can’t! I want to; I would if I could! it’s too late; I can’t
+go back and see you as you were—”
+
+“I have asked you to forgive me.”
+
+“I do, I do; but I do not love you as I want to love you. I shall never
+marry any one, you may be sure of that; I do not want to be married. Why
+must I? Who says I must?”
+
+“I say so.”
+
+“Your authority I do not recognize. The voice must come from God to my
+own heart.”
+
+“Lift your head. Look at me.”
+
+She obeyed.
+
+“I wish you to understand that I am not to be trifled with; this is
+definite; this is final; I have asked and you have refused. You need not
+play with me thinking that I shall ask you again, _I never shall_.
+Remember, I never shall.”
+
+“I do not wish you to ask me again.”
+
+“Then this ends the matter.”
+
+“This ends the matter,” she repeated.
+
+“My mother is not well, she will miss you; you will stay with her just
+the same. She will not surmise any thing. She loves you as I did not
+know that one woman could love another.”
+
+“Is that why you wish to marry me?”
+
+“No. I know my own mind. I have loved you ever since I knew you, but I
+was not aware of it; I did not know it until I knew that Miss Gerard was
+not like you.”
+
+“Oh, I am so sorry! This is the hardest of all. But I might grow not to
+like you at all; I might rush away from you; it takes so much love and
+confidence and sympathy to be willing to give one’s self.”
+
+“I am not in a frame of mind to listen to such things; you forget that
+you have thrown me away for the sake of a whim!”
+
+“I want to tell your mother; I can not bear for her to be so kind to
+me—”
+
+“It isn’t enough to hurt me, but you must hurt her, also. She would not
+understand—any more than I do—why you throw me away.”
+
+“I will not tell her, but I shall feel like a hypocrite. You will not
+utterly despise me.”
+
+“You can not expect me to feel very kindly towards you. Why may I not
+lose all but the memory of _you_?”
+
+“You may. I am willing,” she answered wearily. “Oh, I _wanted_ to be
+satisfied with you.”
+
+He had left the room with his last words, not waiting for reply.
+
+And she could only cry out, with a dry, hard sob, “Oh, Ralph, Ralph, I
+_wanted_ to be satisfied with you!”
+
+
+
+
+XIX.—THE OLD STORY.
+
+
+One afternoon in the reading-room she found two notices of her book; one
+was in _Hearth and Home_, the other in _The Lutheran Observer_; the
+former ran in this style:
+
+“‘Under the Wings’ by Theresa Louise Wadsworth is the most lifelike
+representation of a genuine live boy that we have seen for many a day.
+We are almost tempted to think that the author was once a boy herself
+she is so heartily in sympathy with a boy’s thoughts and feelings. It is
+a book that every boy ought to read, and we are confident that no boy
+can read it without being bettered by it.”
+
+The other she was more pleased with:
+
+“Rob is a genuine boy, with all manner of faults and pranks; but a
+tender, truthful heart, and a determination for the right that brings
+him through safely. But specially is he delightful in juxtaposition with
+Nell, a little girl who says the quaintest things in the most laughable,
+most lovable manner. Altogether it is a thoroughly enjoyable book, sweet
+and saintly, too; though not saintly after the cut and dried style of
+youthful piety.”
+
+She turned the papers with a startled face as if the lady in the black
+cloak near her had guessed what she had looked for and had found; as if
+the blonde mustache hidden behind Emerson surmised that she had written
+a book and wondered why she had not attempted something deeper; as if
+Mr. Lewis Gesner reading a newspaper with his forehead puckered into a
+frown knew that she was slightly a blue-stocking, and decided that she
+might better be learning how to be a good wife for somebody.
+
+“I _am_ commonplace,” she soliloquized, running down the long flight of
+stairs; “ten years ago when my heroines were Rosalie and Viola, and
+their lovers bandits or princes in disguise, who would have believed
+that I could have settled down into writing good books for good little
+children?”
+
+That evening Mr. Hammerton took from his memorandum book three square
+inches of printed matter, neatly and exactly folded, and dropped it into
+her hand.
+
+“There’s a feather in your cap, Lady Blue; it is plucked from the
+_Evening Mail_.”
+
+She read it, by the light of the shaded lamp, standing at the
+sitting-room table. Mrs. Wadsworth looked up from her work, regarding
+her curiously; Tessa did not observe the expression of pride and love
+that flitted across her face. Mrs. Wadsworth loved Tessa more than she
+loved any other human being; indeed, with all her capacity for loving;
+but Tessa would never discover it. Mrs. Wadsworth was not aware of it,
+herself; Mr. Wadsworth saw it and was glad. Tessa read eagerly:
+
+“‘Under the Wings’ is the title of an excellent book by Theresa Louise
+Wadsworth issued in neat form by——. The characters of the boyish
+hero—wilful, merry, irreverent, honest, and bold, and the heroine—happy,
+serious, inquiring, and lovable, are drawn with no mean skill, while the
+other personages, the kind and pious grandmother, the snappish, but
+well-meaning mother, the deacon, and others, are sketched with scarcely
+less truth and vividness. The development of the Christian faith in the
+soul of wild Rob is traced easily and naturally, the incidents are
+numerous and interesting; the whole movement of the story is in helpful
+sympathy with human hearts.”
+
+“What is it, daughter?” inquired her father arranging the chess-men.
+
+“She is modest as well as famous. I will read it,” said Mr. Hammerton,
+“and here’s your letter from Dine; I knew that that would insure my
+welcome. Do you know, I forgot to inquire for myself? I never did such a
+thing before. Father will go to the mail, however.”
+
+Moving apart from the group, she ran through the long letter; coloring
+and biting her lips as she read. Mrs. Wadsworth’s little rocker was
+drawn to the table; the light from the tall lamp fell over her face and
+hair, touching her hands and her work; the low, white forehead, the wavy
+hair, the pretty lips and chin were pleasant to look upon; when she was
+in a happy state of mind, this little lady was altogether kissable.
+
+“What does Dine say?” she asked.
+
+“Not much. No news,” stammered Tessa.
+
+“Hurry then and let me read it.”
+
+“Excuse me, it is purely confidential, every vestige to be consigned to
+the flames. You are to have a letter in a day or two.”
+
+Mr. Hammerton gave her a quick glance and moved his queen into check.
+She took the letter into the parlor for a second perusal.
+
+“Oh, Tessa, my dear, big, wise sister, I’ve got something to tell you.
+What should I do if I hadn’t somebody to tell? At first I thought I
+wouldn’t tell you or any body, and then I knew I must. Norah knows, but
+she will never tell. She does not know about Gus. I have never told
+that, but she knows about my wonderful John! I don’t know how to begin
+either; I guess I will begin in the middle; all the blanks your own
+imagination must fill. You know all about John; I’ve told you enough if
+your head isn’t too full of literary stuff to hold common affairs; _I’m
+in love_ and he is, too, of course. I should not be if he were not. I
+mean I should not tell of it if he were not. I’m glad that you are not
+the kind of elder sister that can’t be told such things, for I could not
+tell mother, and I would not dare tell dear, old father. Not that it is
+so dreadful to be in love, even if I have known him but seven weeks
+to-night; I fell in love with him the instant he raised his eyes and
+took hold of my hand. Living under the same roof and eating together
+three times a day (he eats so nicely), and ciphering and studying and
+reading together, and going to church and prayer-meeting and
+singing-school together, make the time seem ten times as long and give
+twenty times as many opportunities of falling in love decorously as I
+could have found in Dunellen in a year! But I am not apologizing for
+_that_. It’s too delightfully delicious to have a _real_ lover! Not that
+he has asked me _yet_! I wouldn’t have him do it for any thing; it would
+spoil it all. But we both knew it as Adam and Eve knew it! Now the
+dreadfulness of it is that I have no right to do such a thing. I came
+here believing that I was lawfully and forever engaged to dear old Gus,
+spectacles, chess-board, dictionary and all. Not that _he_ ever said a
+word to _me_! Don’t you know one night I told you that I had a secret?
+How glad I was of it then! I couldn’t sleep that night and for days I
+felt dizzy; for Gus had been my hero ever since he told me stories when
+I was a wee child. And so of course I thought I _loved_ him. What is
+love, anyway? Who knows? That secret was this: I heard dear, old, wise
+Gus tell father that he loved _me_ (just think, _me!_) and that he was
+waiting for me to love him, dear, old boy! He would not try to make me
+love him, he wanted it to come naturally; he would not speak to me or
+urge me, he wanted to find me loving him and then he would ask me to
+give him what belonged to him. Wasn’t it touching? I didn’t know that he
+could be so lover-like. I didn’t know that he ever would love anybody
+because he always talks books and politics and only made fun when I told
+him news about the girls. How could I help loving him when I knew that
+he loved me. Isn’t that enough to make anybody love anybody?
+
+“Just as soon as I saw my wonderful John, then I knew that I did not
+love Gus, that I never had loved him, that I never _could_ love him. No,
+not to the end of time. If I had married him, I suppose that I should
+have been satisfied and thought I was as happy as I could be—I don’t
+know, though. He was wise to let me wait and have a choice: it is cruel
+to ask girls before they have seen some one else; we do not know what we
+do want until we see it—or him. I am writing at the sitting-room table;
+John has not come home from the mail; Aunt Tessa knits a long, blue
+stocking and Uncle Knox is asleep with the big white and black cat on
+his knees.
+
+“I never could stay here but for John and Miss Towne. I have told _her_
+about John; she likes John. Every one does.
+
+“I want you to see my knight; he is not tall, he is broad-shouldered,
+with the loveliest complexion and blonde mustache, blue eyes, shining
+blue eyes, and auburn curly hair! that is, _rather_ auburn; I think it
+is more like reddish gold. I wish that you could hear him talk about
+making life a glorious success. He makes me feel brave and strong. Oh,
+isn’t it a beautiful thing to live and have some one love you! I wish
+that you loved somebody; I do not like to be so happy and have you
+standing out in the cold. John thinks that _you_ are wonderful; I tell
+him that he will forget me when he has heard you talk.
+
+“Wise old Gus is a thousand miles over my head when he talks to me, but
+John walks by my side and speaks the thoughts that I have been thinking,
+only in so much more beautiful language; and he likes all the books I
+like, and my favorite poems and hymns. How will you break it to Gus? He
+must be told. He wrote to me two weeks ago, a long, interesting letter
+all about Dunellen news, which I haven’t dared answer yet. I suppose I
+must. I showed it to John; he asked how old he was, and now he calls him
+‘The Venerable.’ He must not keep on thinking about me, for I never,
+never can like him, even if I never marry John. Do break it to him in
+some easy, _pleasant_ way; he will never imagine that _you_ know that he
+likes _me_. He never showed it any, I am sure. I always thought that it
+was you, and mother thinks so; I heard her telling father.
+
+“Be sure to write immediately, for I am as unhappy as I can be. And be
+sure to tell me what he says and how he takes it. Mary Sherwood wrote me
+that Sue told her that she and Dr. Lake had awful quarrels, and that
+once they didn’t speak to each other for three days only in her father’s
+presence. I never could quarrel with John. There he comes. I’ll be
+writing when he comes in and not look up, and then he will come behind
+my chair and touch my curls when auntie isn’t looking.
+
+“Write soon. Your ever loving Dine.
+
+“P.S.—John calls me Di: he doesn’t like _Dine_.”
+
+Crumbling the letter in both hands, she laid it upon the coals; then she
+stood with one foot on the fender, leaning forward with her forehead
+upon the mantel, thinking, thinking. Before she was aware the door was
+opened and some one came behind her and put both arms around her.
+
+“Is any thing the matter with Dine?”
+
+“Oh, no,” shaking herself loose from his arms and creeping out of them.
+
+He pushed the ottoman nearer and seated himself upon the parrot and the
+roses; she stood on the edge of the rug, with her arms folded across her
+breast to keep herself quiet; how could she tell him the truth? He was
+not a boy to laugh and cry and fling it off; he had loved Dine as long
+as Felix Harrison had loved _her_! He would take it quietly enough; she
+had no dread of an outburst; it might be that Dine’s silence in regard
+to his letter had been a preparation; surely every hard thing that came
+had its preparation; the heavy blow was never sent before the word of
+warning.
+
+“She is not sick?” he asked.
+
+“Sick!” She lingered over the word as if help would come before it were
+ended. “Oh, no, she is well and happy.”
+
+“Does she write you secrets?”
+
+“She always tells me her secrets.”
+
+“Has any phenomenon occurred?”
+
+“It isn’t a phenomenon; it is something as old as Eve and as new as
+Dinah. She thinks she has found her Adam.”
+
+“Ah!” in a constrained voice.
+
+She saw nothing but the fire; the long poker was laid across the fender,
+a handful of ashes had fallen through the grate. “Such things have to
+come, like the measles and mumps; I did hope, however, to keep her out
+of the contagion. But Mother Nature is wiser than any sister.”
+
+“Why is it to be regretted?”
+
+“Because—oh, because, I have learned that one’s eyes are always wide
+open afterward—they weep much and see clear; one can never be carelessly
+happy again; I wanted her to stay a little girl. Selfishly, perhaps. I
+thought there was time enough.”
+
+“It is settled then—so soon?”
+
+“Nothing is settled, but that two people are in love, or believe
+themselves to be. Am I not a cynical elder sister?”
+
+“Is this her first experience?”
+
+“Who can say when a first experience is! Tennyson and moonlight walks
+are aggravating at their age.” At their age! She felt as old as Miss
+Jewett to-night.
+
+“I hope he is worthy of her. She is a jewel.”
+
+“She would not love him if he were not,” said the elder sister proudly.
+
+“This is a secret?”
+
+“Yes; I know that I can trust you. It will be time enough to tell father
+and mother when he brings her home and kneels at their feet for their
+blessing.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“John Woodstock, the school-master. He has neither father nor mother, he
+is beautiful and good, enthusiastic and fascinating.”
+
+She had not once lifted her eyes to his face; his fingers had clasped
+and unclasped themselves; his voice was not as steady as usual.
+
+“That notice was a very pretty puff, Lady Blue.”
+
+“Yes, I like it I will paste it into my notebook.”
+
+“Is that all you have seen?”
+
+“No, I saw two in the reading-room, but I like this better.”
+
+“Are you writing now?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“You are not on the lookout for Adam.”
+
+“No. I will write and he shall search for me. Haven’t you heard of that
+bird in Africa, which if you hunt for him, you can not find, but if you
+stay at home, he will come to you?”
+
+He had risen and stood in his usual uneasy fashion. “My congratulations
+to Dine.”
+
+“I will tell her.”
+
+He lingered on the hearth-rug, then at the door with his hand upon the
+knob.
+
+“Good night. I shall be busy for a week or two; do not expect to see
+me.”
+
+“You will come when you can?”
+
+“Certainly.” He went out and closed the door.
+
+She stood in the same position with her arms folded for the next half
+hour. How could Dine know what love was? How could she give up a man
+like Gus Hammerton for a light-haired boy who talked of making life a
+glorious success? He had his heartache now; it had come at last after
+all his years of watching Dine growing up: and no one could help him, he
+must fight it out alone; she remembered what he had said about quoting
+from a book for Dr. Lake. What “book man” could help him to-night? Would
+he open a book or fall upon his knees?
+
+Was _he_ sorrowful to-night too, Ralph Towne? How gentle he had been
+with her and how patient! They had met several times since; once, in his
+mother’s presence, when he had spoken to her as easily as usual; at
+other times in the street; he had lifted his hat and passed on; the one
+glimpse of his eyes had been to reveal them very dark and very stern.
+She could hear Mr. Hammerton’s voice calling back to her father from the
+gate; they both laughed and then his quick tramp sounded on the planks.
+
+The tramp kept on and on for hours; the moon arose late; he walked out
+into the country, now tramping along the wayside and now in the road; it
+was midnight when he turned his face homeward and something past one
+when he silently unlocked the door with his night-key and found his way
+to his room. There was a letter there from Dinah; his sister had laid it
+on his bureau. It was brief, formal, and ambiguous; she had subscribed
+herself “Your young, old friend, D.” She did not say that she was glad
+of his letter, she did not ask him to write again. “She thinks that she
+must not write to me,” he thought, “darling little Dine! I would like to
+see that John Woodstock!”
+
+
+
+
+XX.—SEVERAL THINGS.
+
+
+The November sky was full of clouds; Tessa liked a cloudy sky; the dried
+leaves whirled around her and rustled beneath her feet, fastening
+themselves to her skirt as she walked through them; she had stepped down
+into the gutter to walk through the leaves because they reminded her of
+her childish days when she used to walk through them and soil her
+stockings and endure a reprimand when her mother discovered the cause of
+it; then she had liked the sound of the leaves, now she only cared for
+them, as she did for several other things,—for the sake of the long ago
+past! She imagined herself a ten-year-old maiden with big blue eyes and
+long, bright braids hanging down her back and tied together at the ends
+with brown ribbon; she was coming from school with a Greenleaf’s
+Arithmetic (she ciphered in long division and had a “table” to learn),
+“Parker’s Philosophy” and “Magnall’s Questions” in her satchel. The
+lesson to-morrow in that was about Tilgath-pilneser; she had stumbled
+over the queer name, so she would be sure to remember it. There were
+crumbs in the napkin in the satchel, too, she had had seed cake for
+lunch; and a lead pencil that Felix Harrison had sharpened for her at
+noon, when he had come down-stairs to ask Laura for his share of the
+lunch, and there was a half sheet of note paper with her spelling for
+to-morrow from “Scholar’s Companion” written on it; perhaps there was a
+poorly written and ill-spelled note from Gus Hammerton’s cousin, Mary
+Sherwood, and there might be a crochet needle and a spool of twenty
+cotton!
+
+She smiled over the inventory, lingering over each article; oh, if she
+only were going home from school with that satchel, to help her mother a
+little, play with Dine, and in the evening to look over her lessons
+sitting close to her father and then to coax him for a story. And then
+she would go to bed at eight o’clock to awake in the morning to another
+day. Mr. Hammerton said that it was a premature “_Vanitas vanitatem_”
+for her to declare that “growing up” was as bad as any thing a girl
+could dream!
+
+But then he did not know about poor Felix, and he could never guess what
+she had dreamed that she had found in Ralph Towne—and how empty life was
+because of this thing that had mocked her. Empty with all its fulness
+because of something that never had been; something that never could be
+in him.
+
+In those satchel-days her greatest trouble had been an interminable
+scolding from her mother, or the having to give to Dine her own share of
+cup-custard, when one chanced to be left from tea.
+
+It was a raw day; the wind played roughly with her veil; the fields were
+bleak, and the long lines of fence, stretching in every direction and
+running into places that she did not know and would not care for, gave
+her a feeling of homesickness. Homesickness with the home she had lived
+in all her life not a mile distant, with every one that she loved or
+ever had loved within three miles; every one but Dine, and Dine was as
+blithe and satisfied as any girl could be.
+
+Still she was homesick; she had been homesick since that evening by the
+fire in Mrs. Towne’s sitting-room. Homesick because she had dreamed a
+dream that could never come true; now that he had asked her in plain,
+straightforward, manly words to love him and become his wife, her heart
+had opened, the light shone in, and she read all that the three years
+had written; she _had_ loved him, but the love had been crushed in
+shame—in shame for her mistake.
+
+“There she is _now_,” cried a voice in the distance behind her.
+
+She turned to find Dr. Lake stopping his horse; he sprang out, not
+lightly, not like himself, and assisted his wife to the ground.
+
+“She prefers your company, it seems,” he said, holding the reins with
+one hand and giving Tessa the other. “Talk fast now, for I shall not be
+gone long; I want to get home.”
+
+“You can go home, I’ll come when I like,” replied Sue.
+
+“We stopped at your house,” said Sue, as he drove on; “I asked him to
+leave me while he goes to Harrison’s; that Felix is always having a fit
+or something. Do you think Gerald looks so sick?” squeezing her hand
+under the folds of Tessa’s crimson and gray shawl that she might take
+her arm.
+
+“He is much changed; I did not like to look at him; has he been ill?”
+
+“Oh, you didn’t hear then! It was day before yesterday! He was thrown
+out; the horse ran away; he isn’t hurt much; he thinks he is, I do
+believe. I am not a nurse, I don’t know how to coddle people and fuss
+over them. The horse is a strange one that father had taken to try, and
+he threw Gerald out and ran away and smashed the buggy, and a farmer
+brought him home. He did look as white as a sheet and he hasn’t eaten
+any thing since; he went out yesterday and insisted upon coming out
+to-day. Father says that he’s foolhardy; but I guess he knows that he
+isn’t hurt; I sha’n’t borrow trouble anyway. He mopes and feels blue,
+but he says nothing ails him; he’s a doctor and he ought to know. Where
+are you going?”
+
+“Not anywhere in particular; I came out for the air; we will walk on
+slowly.”
+
+“We might go as far as your seat on the roots. Wasn’t that time an age
+ago? I didn’t feel married-y one bit. I want to go over to Sherwoods
+to-night to the Sociable, but Gerald says that I am heartless to want to
+go. I don’t think I am. I didn’t get married to shut myself up. Gerald
+never has any time to go anywhere with me, and it’s just as stupid and
+vexatious at home as it ever was. Don’t _you_ ever get married.”
+
+“Are you keeping your word?”
+
+“What word?”
+
+“The promise you made me that day by the brook.”
+
+“About Gerald? Oh, sometimes I keep it and sometimes I don’t. He always
+makes up first, I will say that for him. He will never let me go to
+sleep without kissing him good night.”
+
+“Then you did not tell Mary Sherwood that once you did not speak for
+three days?”
+
+“Bless you, no; Gerald would not let that be true; it was no goodness in
+me that it wasn’t true, though; perhaps I told her that.”
+
+“Do you talk to her about him?”
+
+“Now, Granny, suppose I do!”
+
+Tessa stood still. “Promise me—you shall not take another step with me
+till you do—that you will not talk to any one against him.”
+
+“I won’t. Don’t gripe my hand so tight. He is my husband, he isn’t
+yours! When he’s contrary, I’ll be contrary, too, and I’ll tell people
+if I like.”
+
+“Then you forfeit my friendship; remember I am not your friend.”
+
+“Tessa Wadsworth! you hateful old thing! you know I shall have to give
+in, for you are my best friend! There,” laughing, “let me go, and I’ll
+promise! I’ll say all the ugly things I have to say to his own face.”
+
+They walked on slowly; Sue rambling on and Tessa listening with great
+interest.
+
+“I had a letter from Stacey last week; Gerald has it in his pocket; he
+dictated the answer, and I wrote it in my most flourishing style. I’ve
+got somebody to take good care of me now—if he doesn’t get sick! I don’t
+like sick people; I made him some gruel yesterday and it was as thick as
+mush. Oh, the things he promises me when he gets rich! Gets rich! All he
+wants is for me to love him, poor dear! What _is_ love? Do you know?”
+
+“To discover is one of the things I live for; I know that it suffers
+long.”
+
+“That’s poetry! I don’t want to suffer long and have Gerald sick. I had
+to get up last night and make him a mustard plaster, and do you believe
+I was so sleepy that I made it of ginger? He never told me till this
+morning.”
+
+In half an hour he drove up swiftly behind them.
+
+“Susan, you can get in; I don’t feel like getting out to help you. I
+feel very bad, I want to get home.”
+
+He laid the reins in her hand. “You may drive; good-by, Mystic; you and
+I will have our talk another day.”
+
+“Come and see us,” Sue shouted back.
+
+The horse trotted on at good speed; Sue’s blue veil floated backward;
+Tessa walked on thinking of Dr. Lake’s pain-stricken face and figure.
+
+Her first words to Mary Sherwood that evening were:
+
+“How is Dr. Lake?”
+
+“Sick. Worse. Very sick, I suspect. Their girl told our girl that Mrs.
+Lake was frightened almost to death.”
+
+“I hope she is,” said Nan Gerard, “she deserves to be.”
+
+Tessa kept herself in a sofa corner all the evening.
+
+Nan said that she was a queen surrounded by courtiers, for first one and
+then another came for a quiet talk. When she was not talking or
+listening, she was watching: figures, faces, voices, motions, all held
+something in them worth her studying; she had been watching under cover
+of a book of engravings Professor Towne, for some time before he came
+and stood at the arm of her sofa.
+
+She was shy, at first, as she ever was with strangers, but no one could
+be shy with him for a longer time than five minutes. Dine’s last letter
+had contained an account of an afternoon with Miss Towne, with many
+quotations from her sayings.
+
+“My sister thinks that your sister is a saint,” said Tessa; “she has
+written me about her beautiful life.”
+
+“All about her invalids, I suppose. _Shut-ins_ she calls them! Invalids
+are her mania; she had thirty-five on her list at her last writing; she
+finds them north, south, east, and west.”
+
+“Dine loves to hear about them; Miss Towne gives her some of their
+letters to read to Aunt Theresa. Dine runs over every morning to hear
+about last night’s mail. I am looking forward to my good times with her
+if she will be as good to me as she is to my little sister.”
+
+“She is looking forward to you; your sister’s enthusiasm never flags
+when she may talk of you.”
+
+The talk drifted into books; Mr. Hammerton drew nearer, his questions
+and apt replies added zest to the conversation; Tessa mentally decided
+that he was more original than the Professor; the Professor’s questions
+were good, but no one in all _her_ world could reply like Gus Hammerton;
+she was proud of him to-night with a feeling of ownership; in loving
+Dine, had he not become as near as a brother to her?
+
+This feeling of ownership was decidedly pleasant; with it came a safe,
+warm feeling that she was taken care of; that she had a right to be
+taken care of and to be proud of him. No one in the world, the most
+keen-eyed student of human nature, could ever have guessed that he was
+suffering from a heartache; he had greeted her with the self-possession
+of ten years ago, had inquired about the “folks at home,” and asked if
+Dine were up in the clouds still. Could Dine have made a mistake? Had
+she dreamed it?
+
+Professor Towne moved away to go to Nan Gerard; Tessa listened to Mr.
+Hammerton, he was telling her about a discovery in science, and half
+comprehending and not at all replying she watched Professor Towne’s
+countenance and motions. She could hear about this discovery some other
+time, but she might not have another opportunity to study the Professor.
+He was her lesson to-night. As he talked, she decided that he did not so
+much resemble his cousin as her first glance had revealed; his voice was
+resonant, his manner more courteous; he was not at all the “big boy,” he
+was dignified, frank, and yet reserved; simple, at times, as his sister
+might be, and cultured, far beyond any thing she had ever thought of in
+regard to Dr. Towne; he was as intellectual as Gus Hammerton, as
+gracious as Felix Harrison, with as much heart as Dr. Lake, a physical
+presence as fascinating as Dr. Towne, and as pure-hearted and
+spiritualized as only himself could be. She had found her ideal at last.
+She had found him and was scrutinizing him as coolly and as critically
+as if he were one of the engravings in the book in her lap. She would
+never find a flaw in him; when she wrote her novel he should be her
+hero.
+
+“Why, doctor! Have the skies fallen? Did you hear that we were all taken
+with convulsions?”
+
+Nan Gerard’s laugh followed this; the doctor’s reply was cool and
+commonplace.
+
+“What is the title of your book?” Mr. Hammerton was asking. “‘Hepsey’s
+Heartache?’ ‘Jennie’s Jumble?’ ‘Dora’s Distress?’ ‘Fannie’s Fancy?’ or
+it may be ‘Up Top or Down Below,’ ‘Smashed Hopes or Broken Idols.’”
+
+“I will not answer you if you are not serious.”
+
+“I thought that young ladies gloried in sentiment.”
+
+She turned the leaves of her book.
+
+“Lady Blue, I can not be a just critic; I can not take a sentimental
+standpoint; you take it naturally and truly; you are right to do so; it
+is your mission, your calling, your election. Do not think that I
+despise sentiment and the ideal world of feeling—”
+
+“You know that I do not think that,” she interrupted earnestly.
+
+“These questions of feeling can not be tackled like a problem in
+mathematics, and an answer given in cold, clear cut, adequate words;
+such a problem I like to tackle; such an answer I like to give; but
+these sentimental questions in ‘Blighted Hopes’ are many sided,
+involved, and curvilinear; they are for the theologian, metaphysician,
+and mystic. What can you and I say about life’s hard questions after
+Ecclesiastes and Job?”
+
+“Then you think I am presuming?”
+
+“Did I not just say that sentiment is your mission? The story of each
+human life has a pathos of its own, and each is an enigma of which God
+only knows the solution.”
+
+She colored and dropped her eyes; he did not dream that she knew any
+thing of the “pathos” in his life. How kind she would be to him!
+
+“You are living your solution; perhaps you will help me to find mine.”
+
+“I can’t imagine any one in the world knowing you well enough to be of
+any help to you.”
+
+“Very likely; but I am not on a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
+crowned with a diadem of snow!”
+
+“It’s a little bit warm at the foot of Mount Blanc,” she replied
+laughing.
+
+“Then you shall live at the foot.”
+
+“Dine and I,” she answered audaciously.
+
+“Not Dine! She has gone away from us; she would rather listen to a
+love-ditty from the lips of her new acquaintance than a volume of sober
+sense from us.”
+
+“I had not thought to be jealous. She is not taking any thing from me.”
+
+“Be careful; never tell her any thing again; if you write to her that
+Mary wears a black silk to-night, and that Nan has geranium leaves in
+her hair, she will run and tell him. She will never keep another secret
+for you.”
+
+Tessa looked grave. She never would be supreme in her little sister’s
+heart again. Perhaps this evening she had arrayed herself in garnet and
+gone with him to the mite society, and was laughing and playing games,
+fox and geese, or ninepins, in somebody’s little whitewashed parlor,
+forgetting that such a place as Dunellen was down upon the map.
+
+“Gus, we want you,” said Mary Sherwood, approaching them. “The girls are
+having a quarrel about who wrote something; now, go and tease them to
+your heart’s content.”
+
+“Wrote what?” asked Tessa.
+
+“Oh, I don’t know. Why are you so still? You are sitting here as stately
+and grand and pale and intellectual—one must be pale to look
+intellectual, I suppose—as if you had written _Middlemarch_. I thought
+that you never went home without a separate talk with every person in
+the room, and there you sit like a turtle in a shell. What change has
+passed over the spirit of your dream?”
+
+“I feel quiet; I feel as if I were afraid that some one would push
+against me if I should attempt to cross the room.”
+
+Mary was called away and she drew herself into her sofa corner; the two
+long rooms were crowded; bright colors were flashing before her eyes,
+the buzz and hum of merry talk filled her ears; a black silk in contrast
+with a gray or blue cashmere; a white necktie, a head with drooping
+curls, a low, fair forehead, a pair of square shoulders in broadcloth,
+an open mouth with fine teeth, sloping shoulders of gray silk, a slender
+waist of brown, a coat-sleeve with cuff and onyx cuff-button, a small
+hand with a diamond on the first finger, and dark marks of needle-pricks
+on the tip of the same finger, a pearl ear-ring in a red, homely
+ear;—Tessa’s eyes saw them all, as well as the rounded chin, the fretful
+lip, the humorous lines at the corner of the eye, the manner that was
+frank and the manner that was intended to be, the lips that were
+speaking truth and the lips that were dissembling, the eyes that were
+contented and the eyes that were missing something—a word, perhaps, or a
+little attention, the eyes that brightened when some one approached, the
+eyes that dropped because some one was talking nonsense to some one
+else;—it was a rest to dwell upon these things and forget that Dr. Lake
+was suffering and Sue frightened.
+
+The gentlemen’s faces she did not scan; it was fair, matured women like
+Mrs. Towne and Miss Jewett, and sprightly, sweet girls like Nan Gerard
+that she loved.
+
+Dr. Towne was hedged in a corner, behind a chair, conversing or seeming
+to converse with a gentleman; he was not a lady’s man, he could not be
+himself in the presence of a third or fourth person, that is himself,
+socially; he could be himself professionally under the gaze of the
+multitude. Tessa smiled, thinking how uncomfortable he must be and how
+he must wish himself at home. Was he longing for his leisure at Old
+Place, where, as a society man, nothing was expected of him? Did he
+regret that he had come out “into the world”? Was the old life in his
+“den” with his book a dream that he would fain dream again? Perhaps that
+book that had loomed up before her as containing the wisdom of the ages
+was not such a grand affair after all? Who had ever thought so beside
+herself? Who had ever worshipped him as hero and saint beside herself?
+He was not looking like either, just now, for his face was flushed with
+the heat of the room and he was standing in a cramped position.
+
+“The bear is in his corner growling,” said Nan Gerard bending over her.
+“How ungracious he can be when he wills. Sometimes he is positively rude
+to me.”
+
+“Is there but one bear?”
+
+“You know well enough whom I mean. I expect that Mrs. Lake is mad enough
+because she couldn’t come! How prettily she makes up; I have seen her
+when she really looked elegant. Homely girls have a way of looking
+prettier than the pretty ones. How grave you are! You don’t like my
+nonsense, do you?”
+
+“I was thinking of poor Sue.”
+
+“Oh yes; sad, isn’t it? She’ll be married in less than two years, if he
+dies, see if she isn’t. I can’t understand what her attraction is! She
+has a thousand little airs, perhaps that is it. I am to sleep with you
+to-night. May I?”
+
+“Thank you,” said Tessa warmly, “I am very glad.”
+
+“There, the bear is looking at us. He’ll be over here; now I’ll go over
+to the piano and see if I can make him follow me; I’ve had great fun
+doing that before now—_you_ don’t do such things;” Nan shook her curls
+back with a pretty movement, threw a grave, alluring glance across the
+heads, and through the lights at the bear, then moved demurely away.
+
+The color touched his eyes; he looked amused and provoked; Tessa saw it
+while her eyes were busy with the lady in the chair near him; would he
+follow her? Mr. Hammerton returned.
+
+ “‘Why, William, on that old gray stone,
+ Thus for the length of a half a day,
+ Why, William, sit you thus alone,
+ And dream the time away?’
+Only six ladies have found their way to you in the last half hour; with
+what sorcery do you draw them towards you? Tessa,” speaking in a grave
+tone, “it’s a beautiful thing for a woman to be attractive to women!”
+
+“It is a very happy thing.”
+
+“Will you go to supper with me or do you prefer to sit on the old gray
+stone? You once liked to go with me to get rid of poor Harrison; is
+there any one that you wish to rid yourself of now? In these extremities
+I am at your service.”
+
+“Are you taking me to rid yourself of a pertinacious maiden?”
+
+“No, the girls do not trouble me; I wish they would; if Naughty Nan
+would only run after me, now—there! there goes Towne; _he’s_ after her,
+I know.”
+
+Tessa enjoyed the roguish, demure eyes with which she made room for him
+at her side, and flashed back a congratulation in return for the little
+nod of triumph which Nan telegraphed to her.
+
+“You are in league, you two; I can see that with my short-sighted eyes;
+say, you and he were prime friends once, weren’t you?”
+
+“We are now.”
+
+“Humph! as they say in books! Why don’t _you_ bring him with your eyes,
+then?”
+
+“What for?” she asked innocently.
+
+“Oh, because he has money; he is a moral and respectable young man,
+also.”
+
+“You are something of a phrenologist; tell me what he is.”
+
+“I will not. You will be thinking about him instead of about me.”
+
+“I will be thinking of your deep knowledge of human nature, of your
+unrivalled penetration. Don’t you know that a woman likes to hear one
+man talk about another?”
+
+“But you would not take my opinion, nevertheless.”
+
+“True; I prefer my own unless yours confirm mine. Tell me, please, what
+is he!”
+
+“I have never given him five minutes’ thought.”
+
+“You know his face; look away from him and think.”
+
+“He isn’t a genius; but he has brains,” replied Mr. Hammerton slowly;
+“he is very quiet, as quiet as any man you know; he is very gentle, his
+manner is perfection in a sick room—and nowhere else, I fancy—”
+
+“That’s too bad.”
+
+“Remember that I do not know him; I am speaking as a phrenologist; I
+have never been introduced to him. He does not understand human nature,
+he could live a year under the roof with you or me, particularly you,
+and not feel acquainted with you; he is shy of women, he never knows
+whether they are talking sense or nonsense; he is not a lady’s man in
+the least, you may drop your handkerchief and stoop for it, he would
+never know it.”
+
+“Neither would you.”
+
+“He can keep a secret, that he can do to perfection. Tell him that you
+are in love with him and he will never, never tell! He is no musician.
+Naughty Nan may break her wrists and the keys of the piano, they will
+not unlock his ears or his heart; he is not fluent in conversation, he
+states a fact briefly, he answers a question exactly, he has no more to
+say; but he is a good listener, he does not forget; he is sympathetic,
+but he does not show it particularly, very few would think that he has
+any heart at all; I will wager that not two people in the world know
+him, understand, or can easily approach him; his temper is even, but
+when he _is_ angry ‘beware the fury of a patient man!’ He likes to see
+things orderly; he seldom raises his voice; he is exceedingly
+deliberate, and while he _is_ deliberating he would do or leave undone
+many things that he would afterward regret. He will rush into matrimony,
+or he will be in love for years before he knows it; his temperament is
+bilious. Now, Lady Blue, have I described a hero fit for a modern
+romance?”
+
+“No, only a commonplace man. All you have said is literally true.”
+
+“He is a _good_ man,” said Mr. Hammerton, emphatically. “I mean, good as
+men go, in these days. Naughty Nan is to be congratulated. Do you not
+think so?”
+
+“Perhaps,” said Tessa doubtfully.
+
+“I believe that he is planning an attack on the citadel under my charge;
+I will move off, and give him an opportunity; I want to talk to the
+Professor.”
+
+How many years ago was it since Felix had attended one of Mary
+Sherwood’s little parties? Not more than three or four; she remembered
+how he used to hear her voice in its lightest speaking, how soon he
+became aware whenever she changed her position; how many times she had
+raised her eyes to meet his with their fixed, intense gaze; how his eyes
+would glitter and what a set look would stiffen his lips. And oh, how
+she had teased him in those days by refusing his eagerly proffered
+attentions and accepting Gus Hammerton in the matter-of-fact fashion in
+which he had suggested himself as ever at her service! In all the years
+she could remember these two, Gus, helpful and friendly, not in the
+least lover-like (she could as easily imagine the bell on the old
+Academy a lover), and Felix, poor Felix,—he would always be “poor Felix”
+now,—with his burning jealousy and intrusive affection.
+
+Was he asleep now, or awake and in pain? Was he lying alone thinking of
+what he might have been but for his own undisciplined eagerness, not
+daring to look into the future nights and days, that would be like
+these, only more helpless, more terrible?
+
+The talk and laughter ran on, her cheeks were hot, her head weary; she
+longed for a cool pillow and a dark chamber; some one was speaking, she
+lifted her eyes to reply.
+
+“Miss Tessa, my mother misses you every hour.”
+
+“I am very sorry. There is room on my sofa, will you sit down?”
+
+“No. I was too hasty in our last conversation,” bending so low that his
+breath touched her hair, “I come to ask you to reconsider; will you?”
+
+“Do you want such an answer as that would be?”
+
+“That is what I do want; then you will be sure, so sure that you will
+never change—”
+
+“I am not changeable.”
+
+“I think you are; in six months I will come to you again, when shall it
+be?”
+
+“So long! If you care, the suspense will be very hard for you. I do not
+like to hurt you so.”
+
+“I prefer the six months.”
+
+“Well,” speaking in her ordinary tone, “do not come to me, wherever I
+may be—we may both be in the next world by that time—”
+
+“We shall not be so much changed as to forget, shall we?”
+
+“Or not to care? I will write you a letter on the first day of June; I
+will mail it before ten o’clock.”
+
+She laid her hand in his; he held it a moment, neither speaking.
+
+“Oh, you _are_ here,” cried a voice.
+
+And she was talking the wildest nonsense in two minutes, with her eyes
+and cheeks aflame.
+
+At half past one the last guests had departed; Mary paused in a
+description of somebody’s dress and asked Tessa if she would like to go
+to bed.
+
+“I have always wished to get near to you,” said Nan, leading the way
+up-stairs. “I knew that there was a place in your heart for me to creep
+into.”
+
+Tessa had a way of falling in love with girls; that night she fell in
+love with Nan Gerard; sitting on the carpet close to the register in a
+white skirt and crimson breakfast sacque, bending forward with her arms
+clasping her knees, she told Tessa the story of her life.
+
+Tessa was seated on the bed, still in the black silk she had worn, with
+a white shawl of Shetland wool thrown around her; she had taken the
+hair-pins out of the hair and the long braid was brought forward and
+laid across her bosom reaching far below her waist.
+
+She braided and unbraided the ends of it as Nan talked about last winter
+and Dr. Towne.
+
+“I like to talk to you; I can trust you, I wouldn’t be afraid to tell
+you any thing; I can not trust Mary, she exaggerates fearfully. I don’t
+mind telling _you_ that I came near falling in love with that handsome
+black bear; it was only skin deep however; I think that I have lost my
+attraction for him, whatever it was; I never do take falling in love
+hard; why, some girls take it as a matter of life and death; I think the
+reason must be that I can never love any one as I loved Robert. He was a
+saint. Yes, he was; you needn’t look incredulous! I am not sentimental,
+I am practical and I intend to marry some day. People call me a flirt,
+perhaps I am, but my fun is very innocent and most delightful.
+
+“I know this: Ralph Towne would not like me if I were the only girl in
+existence; he wants some one who can think as well as talk; you wouldn’t
+guess it to hear _him_ talk, would you?
+
+“Did you ever see a man who could not talk some kind of nonsense?
+There’s Gus Hammerton, can’t he talk splendid nonsense? Some of his
+nonsense is too deep for me.
+
+“Now, I’ve been trying an experiment with Dr. Towne, he is such an old
+bear that I thought it would do no harm; I made up my mind to see if it
+were possible for a marriageable woman to treat a marriageable man as if
+he were another woman! I don’t know about it though,” she added
+ruefully.
+
+“Has it failed?”
+
+“I think it has—rather. He does not understand—”
+
+“No man would understand.”
+
+“I would understand if he would treat me as if I were Nathan instead of
+Nan; what grand, good friends we could be!”
+
+“I am glad that you can see that it has failed. How do you detect the
+failure?”
+
+“I have eyes. I know. His mother does not understand either. I think
+that I shall begin to be more—”
+
+“Maidenly?”
+
+Nan colored. “Was I unmaidenly? I have resolved never to ask him to take
+me anywhere again; I have made him no end of pretty things, I will do it
+no more. I would not like to have him lose his respect for me.”
+
+“It usually costs something to try an experiment; I am glad that yours
+has cost you no more.”
+
+“So am I, heartily glad. My next shall be of a different nature. Did you
+never try an experiment?”
+
+“Not of that kind; I tried an experiment once of believing every thing
+that somebody said, and acting upon it, as if it meant what it would
+have meant to me.”
+
+“And you came to grief?”
+
+“I thought so, at first. Life _is_ a long story, isn’t it?”
+
+“It’s an interesting one to me. I kept a journal about _my_ experiment;
+I’ll read it to you, shall I?”
+
+“I would like it ever so much if you like _me_ well enough to do it.”
+
+“Of course I do,” springing up. “And after I read it to you, you shall
+write the ‘final’ for me.”
+
+In the top drawer of the bureau, she fumbled among neckties,
+pocket-handkerchiefs, and a collection of odds and ends, and at last,
+brought out a small, soft-covered, thin book with edges of gilt.
+
+“I named it ‘Nan’s Experiment,’” she said seriously, reseating herself
+near the register. “If you wish to listen in comfort, draw that rocker
+close to me, and take off your boots and heat your feet. If you are in a
+comfortable position, you will be in a more merciful frame of mind to
+judge my misdoings.”
+
+Tessa obeyed, and leaned back in the cushioned chair, braiding and
+unbraiding her hair as she listened.
+
+The journal opened with an account of the journey by train to St. Louis.
+The description of her escort was enthusiastic and girlish in the
+extreme.
+
+“Is it nonsense?” the reader asked.
+
+“Even if it were, I haven’t travelled so far away from those days that I
+can not understand.”
+
+She read with more confidence.
+
+Ralph Towne would have been pleased with the intentness of Tessa’s eyes
+and the softening of her lips.
+
+“You _dear_ Naughty Nan,” cried Tessa, as the book fell from the
+reader’s hands.
+
+“Then you do not blame me so much?”
+
+“It is only a mistake. Who does not make a mistake? It sounds rather
+more than skin-deep, though.”
+
+“Oh, I had to throw in a little agony to make it interesting. I don’t
+want him to think—”
+
+“What he thinks is the price you pay for your experiment.”
+
+“Now write a last sentence, and I’ll keep it forever; the names are all
+fictitious; no one can understand it; I’ll find a pencil.”
+
+Tessa held the pencil a moment. Nan on her knees watched her.
+
+“Something that I shall remember all my life—whenever I do a foolish
+thing—if I ever _do_ again.”
+
+“Do you know Jean Ingelow?”
+
+“She is the one Professor Towne reads from?”
+
+“Yes. I will write some words of hers.”
+
+The pencil wrote, and Nan, on her knees, read it word by word.
+
+ “I wait for the day when dear hearts shall discover,
+ While dear hands are laid on my head;
+ ‘The child is a woman, the book may close over,
+ For all the lessons are said.’
+
+ “I wait for my story—the birds can not sing it,
+ Not one as he sits on the tree;
+ The bells can not ring it, but long years, O bring it!
+ Such as I wish it to be.”
+
+“Thank you, very much. You write a fine hand. ‘Such as I wish it to be?’
+No one’s story is ever that—do you think it ever is?”
+
+“We will do our best to make ours such as we wish it to be.”
+
+“Professor Towne is to have a private class in elocution after the
+holidays, and I’m going to join. He says that I will make a reader. I
+wish that you would join too.”
+
+“I wish I might, but I shall not be at home; I am to spend a part of the
+winter away.”
+
+“Oh, are you? Just as I have found you. But you promise to write to me?”
+
+“Yes, I will write to you; I beg of you not to try any experiments with
+me,” she added laughing.
+
+“Don’t be afraid,” said Nan, seriously.
+
+“I wish you would make a friend of Miss Jewett; you will be glad of it
+as long as you live.”
+
+“I am doing it; but I don’t want _you_ to go away.”
+
+“I shall come back some day, childie.”
+
+Nan moved nearer, still on her knees, drew Tessa’s cheek down to her
+lips,—her warm, saucy, loving lips,—saying, “My counsellor.”
+
+Dr. Greyson’s house stood opposite. Tessa went to the window to see if
+the light were still burning in Sue’s chamber; Sue had forgotten to drop
+the curtains; the room was well-lighted; Sue was standing in the centre
+of the room holding something in her hand; Tessa saw Dr. Greyson enter
+and Sue moved away.
+
+She lay in bed wide awake watching the light.
+
+“Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another day.”
+
+The tears dropped slowly on the pillow.
+
+
+
+
+XXI.—THROUGH.
+
+
+The snow-flakes were very large, they fell leisurely, melting almost as
+soon as they touched Tessa’s flower bed; she was sitting at one of the
+sitting-room windows writing. She wrote, as it is said that all ladies
+do, upon her lap, her desk being a large blank book; her inkstand stood
+upon the window-sill; the cane-seated chair in front of her served
+several purposes, one of them being a foot-rest; upon the chair were
+piled “Roget’s Thesaurus of English Words and Phrases,” “Recreations of
+a Country Parson,” a Bible, the current numbers of the _Living Age_ and
+_Harper’s Magazine_, and George Macdonald’s latest book.
+
+Her wrapper was in two shades of brown, the ruffle at her throat was
+fastened by a knot of blue velvet; in one brown pocket were a lead
+pencil, a letter from an editor, who had recently published a work upon
+which he had been busy twenty years and had thereby become so famous
+that the letter in her pocket was an event in her life, especially as it
+began: “My dear Miss Tessa, I like your letter and I like you.”
+
+Her father was very proud of that letter.
+
+In the other brown pocket were a tangle of pink cord, a half yard of
+tatting, and a shuttle, and—what Tessa had read and reread—three full
+sheets of mercantile note from Miss Sarepta Towne.
+
+Dinah was seated at another window embroidering moss roses upon black
+velvet; the black velvet looked as if it might mean a slipper for a
+good-sized foot. There was a secret in the eyes that were intent upon
+the roses; the secret that was hidden in many pairs of eyes—brown, blue,
+hazel—in Dunellen in these days before Christmas.
+
+There was not even the hint of a secret in the eyes that were opening
+“Thesaurus” and looking for a synonym for _Information_.
+
+“Poor Tessa!” almost sighed happy Dinah, “she has to plod through
+manuscript and books, and doesn’t know half how nice it is to make
+slippers.”
+
+Poor Tessa closed her book just then and looked out into the falling
+snow.
+
+“Perhaps we shall hear that he’s dead to-day,” said Dinah, brushing a
+white thread off the velvet. “I have expected to hear that every day for
+a week.”
+
+“But you said that he talked real bright last week.”
+
+“So Sue said. I have not seen him. He knows that I have called, that is
+enough; I do not want to see him, I know that my face would distress
+him.”
+
+“Poor fellow,” said Dine, compassionately, “how he used to talk! The
+stories that he has told in this room. Oh, Tessa, I can’t be thankful
+enough for every thing! To think that John should get such a good
+position in the Dunellen school! How things work around; he would not
+have had it but for Mr. Lewis Gesner! John and I are going there to
+spend the evening next week; Miss Gesner asked him to bring me. And oh,
+Tessa, _do_ you think that Gus takes it much to heart?”
+
+“If I did not know I should not think that he had any thing to take to
+heart!”
+
+“I suppose his heart bleeds in secret,” said Dinah pensively. “Well, it
+isn’t _my_ fault. You don’t blame me.”
+
+“I never blame any one.”
+
+“Father and mother are very polite to John.”
+
+“They are never rude to any one.”
+
+“Say, Tessa, are you glad about me, or sorry?”
+
+“Am I not always glad about you?”
+
+“Well, about John?”
+
+“I like John; he is a good boy; but you can not expect me not to be
+disappointed about Gus!”
+
+“You think that Gus is every thing.”
+
+“I think that he is _enough_.”
+
+“Perhaps—perhaps—” but Dinah became confused and dared not finish.
+
+Tessa felt her thought. Perhaps—but what a queer perhaps; who could
+imagine it?
+
+The sharp Faber scribbled upon waste paper for some minutes; it
+scribbled dates and initials and names, and then “Such as I wish it to
+be.”
+
+“There goes Dr. Towne,” said Dinah.
+
+Tessa lifted her head in time for a bow. Then she scribbled, “A
+nightingale made a mistake.”
+
+The letter in her pocket had closed thus: “You have the faculty of
+impressing truth in a very pleasant manner; your characters are
+spirited, your incidents savor of freshness, your style is rather abrupt
+however, it will be well to consider that.”
+
+A busy life, busy in the things that she loved best, was her ideal of
+happiness.
+
+She scribbled—“Dec. 15. Dinah making roses. Miss Towne wishing for me.
+Is any one else? What do I wish? My naughty heart, be reasonable, be
+just, be sure, do not take a thing that you _want_, just because you
+want it.”
+
+Dinah was wondering how Tessa’s face _could_ look so peaceful when she
+was not engaged nor likely to be. Tessa was at peace, she was at rest
+concerning Dr. Lake. Before the storm was over, he would be glad that he
+had been born into a life upon the earth. In this hour—while Dine was
+working her roses and Tessa scribbling, while the snow-flakes were
+melting on Dr. Towne’s overcoat and Nan Gerard was studying “The Songs
+of Seven” to read to the Professor that evening—Sue and her husband were
+alone in Sue’s chamber.
+
+“Sue, I haven’t heard you sing to-day.”
+
+“How can I sing, Gerald, when you are so sick?”
+
+“Am I so sick? Do you know that I am?”
+
+“I think I ought to know; don’t I see how father looks? and didn’t Dr.
+Towne say that he would come and stay with you to-night? Are not people
+very sick when they have a consultation?”
+
+“Sometimes. What are you doing over there?”
+
+“It is time for your powder; you must sleep, they all say so. Will you
+try to go to sleep after you take this?”
+
+“Yes, if you will sing to me.”
+
+He raised himself on his elbow and took the spoon from her hand. “You
+have been a good wife to me, Susan.”
+
+“Of course I have. Isn’t that what I promised. There, you spilled some;
+how weak your fingers are! you are like a baby. I don’t like babies.”
+
+“Don’t say that,” falling back upon the pillow. “I want you to be
+womanly, dear, and true women love babies.”
+
+“They are such a bother.”
+
+“So are husbands.”
+
+“When you get well, you will not be a bother! Can’t you talk any
+louder?”
+
+“Sit down close to me. How long have I been sick?”
+
+“Oh, I don’t know! The nights and days are just alike.”
+
+“I expect that you are worn out. We will go to sleep together. I wish we
+could.”
+
+“You mustn’t talk, you must go to sleep.”
+
+“Say, Susan,” catching her hand in both his, “are you glad you married
+me?”
+
+“Of course I am glad; that is, I shall be when you get well.”
+
+“You wouldn’t like a feeble husband dragging on you all your days, would
+you?”
+
+“No, I _wouldn’t_. Who would? Would you like a feeble wife dragging on
+_you_ all your days?”
+
+“I would like _you_, sick or well.”
+
+“I knew you would say that. You and Tessa and Dr. Towne are sentimental.
+What do you think he said to me last night. ‘Be very gentle and careful
+with him, do not even speak loud.’”
+
+“He is very kind.”
+
+“As if I _wouldn’t_ be gentle!”
+
+“Bring your chair close and sing.”
+
+“I don’t feel like singing; this room is dark and hot, and I am sleepy.”
+
+“Well, never mind.”
+
+She pushed a chair close to the low bed and sat down; he took her hand
+and held it between his flushed hot hands. “God bless you forever, and
+ever, my darling wife!”
+
+“That’s too solemn,” said Sue in an awed voice; “don’t say such things;
+I shall believe that you are going to die, if you do. Do go to sleep,
+that’s a good boy.”
+
+He laid his finger on his wrist keeping it there a full minute.
+
+“Are you stronger?” she asked eagerly. “Father will not say when I ask
+him and Dr. Towne only looked at me.”
+
+He lifted her hand to his lips and smiled.
+
+“Now sing.”
+
+“What shall I sing?”
+
+“Any thing. Every thing. ‘Jesus, lover of my soul.’ I always liked
+that.”
+
+The clear, strong voice trembled nervously over the first words; she was
+afraid, but she did not know what she was afraid of; his eyelids
+drooped, he kept tight hold of her hand.
+
+She sang the hymn through and then asked what he would like next.
+
+“I was almost dreaming. Sue is a pretty name, so is Gerald; but I would
+not like my boy to be named Gerald. Theodore means the _gift of God_; I
+like that; Theodore or Theodora. If you ever name a child, will you
+remember that?”
+
+“I shall never name a child; I don’t like children well enough to fuss
+over them. Now, what else?”
+
+“‘Jerusalem the golden.’”
+
+“Oh, you don’t want that! It’s too solemn. I won’t sing it, I’ll sing
+something livelier. Don’t you like ‘Who are these in bright array?’”
+
+The eyelids drooped, he did not loosen his clasp, and she sang on; once,
+when she paused, he whispered, “Go on.”
+
+The snow fell softly, melting on the window-sill, the wood fire burnt
+low, she drew her hand away and went to the stove to put in a stick of
+wood; he did not stir, his hands were still half-clasped; through the
+half-shut lids, his eyes shone dim and dark. She was very weary; she
+laid her head on the white counterpane near his hands and fell asleep.
+Dr. Greyson entered, stood a moment near the door and went out; Dr.
+Towne came to the threshold, his eyes filled as he stood, he closed the
+door and went down-stairs; he opened the front parlor door, thinking of
+the two as they stood there together such a little time since, and
+thinking of Tessa’s face as he saw it that morning. “She will love him
+always if he leaves her now,” he said to himself; “when she is old, she
+will look back and grieve for him. Tessa would, but Sue—there’s no
+reckoning upon her. Why are not all women like Tessa and my mother?”
+
+He drove homeward, thinking many thoughts; of late, in the light of
+Tessa’s words, he could behold himself as she beheld him; she would have
+been satisfied, could she have known the depth of his self-accusation;
+“No man but a fool could _be_ such a fool,” he had said to himself more
+than once. “There is no chance that she will take me.”
+
+Meanwhile Sue awoke from her heavy sleep; it was growing colder, the
+snow was falling and not melting, the room was quite dark.
+
+“I have been asleep,” said Dr. Lake.
+
+“And now you are better,” cried Sue, joyfully. “I knew that you were
+moping and had the blues.”
+
+Through that night and the next day, Miss Jewett watched with Sue;
+before another morning broke, Sue—poor widowed Sue!—was taken in
+hysterics from the room.
+
+
+
+
+XXII.—SEVERAL OTHER THINGS.
+
+
+Tessa dropped the curtains, arranged the heavy crimson folds, and
+lighted the gas.
+
+“I shall do this many times in my imagination before spring,” she said.
+“The curtains in my room, Dine says, are Turkey red, and my gas will be
+one tall sperm candle. Just about twilight you will feel my ghost
+stealing in, the curtains will fall, and invisible hands play among
+them, the jets will start into light, and then the perfume of a kiss
+will touch your forehead and hair. The perfume shall be that of a pansy
+or a day-lily, as you prefer.”
+
+“I would rather have your material lips; I am not fond of ghostly
+visitants; I shall feel you always beside me; I shall not forget you
+even in my sleep.”
+
+“You are too kind to me,” said Tessa, after a moment, during which she
+had donned her brown felt hat and buttoned her long brown cloth cloak.
+The feeble old lady in the arm-chair flushed like a girl under the
+gratitude of Tessa’s eyes; her eyes filled slowly as Tessa came to her
+and kissed her.
+
+“I am very old womanish about you; it must be because I am not strong; I
+would never let you go away out of my presence if I could hinder it.”
+
+“I want to stay with you; I am never happier than I am in this room; but
+I must go; it is a promise; and I must go to-morrow. Uncle Knox will
+meet me at the train with a creaky old buggy and a half-blind white
+horse; then we shall drive six miles through a flat country with
+farm-houses scattered here and there to a cunning little village
+containing one church and one store and about forty dwellings. Our
+destination is a small house near the end of the principal street where
+live the most devoted old couple in the world! Aunt Theresa and Uncle
+Knox are a pair of lovers; it is beautiful to see them together; it is
+worth travelling across the continent; they never forget each other for
+an instant, and yet they make no parade of their affection; I am sure
+that they will both die upon the same day of the same disease. Their
+life is as lovely as a poem. I have often wondered how they attained it,
+if it were perfect before they were married or if it _grew_.”
+
+She was standing under the chandelier buttoning her gloves, with her
+earnest face towards the lady in the arm-chair.
+
+“It _grew_,” said a voice behind her. Dr. Towne had entered unperceived
+by either. “Is that all?”
+
+“Isn’t that enough?” she asked slightly flushing.
+
+“Yes, I think that it is enough; but I know that it was born and not
+made. It did not become perfect in a year and a day. See if your aunt
+hasn’t had an experience that she will not tell you.”
+
+“And my uncle?” she asked saucily.
+
+“Men do not parade their experiences.”
+
+“Providing they have any to parade,” she replied lightly. “I’m afraid
+that I don’t believe in men’s experiences.”
+
+“Don’t say that, my dear,” said Mrs. Towne anxiously.
+
+“I will not,” Tessa answered, suddenly sobered, “not until I forget Dr.
+Lake.”
+
+“Am I to have the mournful pleasure of taking you home, Miss Tessa? My
+carriage is at the door.”
+
+“I have tried to persuade her to stay all the evening,” said Mrs. Towne.
+
+“I have an engagement. My encyclopedia is coming to-night to talk over
+to me something that I have been writing.”
+
+“Is he your critic?” inquired Dr. Towne.
+
+“Yes, and an excellent one, too. Don’t you know that he knows every
+thing?”
+
+“Then perhaps he can tell me something that I want to know. Would it be
+safe to ask him?”
+
+“If it is to be found in a book he can tell you,” said Tessa seriously.
+
+“It is not to be found in any poem that was ever written or in any song
+that was ever sung.”
+
+“Then it remains to be written?”
+
+“Yes; don’t you want to write it?”
+
+“I must learn it by heart first; I can not write what I have not
+learned.”
+
+“Ralph, you shall not tease her,” interrupted his mother, “she shall not
+do any thing that she does not please.”
+
+“Not even go into the country for three months in winter,” he said.
+
+“What will Sue do without you, Tessa?” asked Mrs. Towne.
+
+“I have been with her five days; she cried and clung to me. I do not
+want to leave her, there are so many reasons for me to stay and so few
+for me to go. Miss Gesner came this afternoon and promised to stay all
+night with her. She is a little afraid of Miss Gesner; with Miss Jewett
+and me, she cried and talked about him continually; the poor girl is
+overwhelmed.”
+
+“She will be overwhelmed again by and by,” said Dr. Towne.
+
+“Ralph! I never heard you say any thing so harsh of any one before.”
+
+“Is truth harsh?” he asked.
+
+“If it be mild to-morrow, I will go to Sue; I will take her down to Old
+Place for a month; she always throve there.”
+
+“She will be dancing and singing in a month,” returned Dr. Towne.
+
+“Well, let her!”
+
+“But you must not be troubled, mother. I shall make her promise not to
+talk to you and go into hysterics.”
+
+“My son, she is a widow.”
+
+“‘And desolate,’” he quoted.
+
+“Tessa, will you write to me every week, child?”
+
+“Every week,” promised Tessa, as she was drawn into the motherly arms
+and kissed again and again.
+
+Her own mother would not kiss her like that. Was it her mother’s fault
+or her own?
+
+As soon as they were seated in the carriage and the robe tucked in
+around her, her companion asked, “Shall we drive around the square? The
+sun is hardly set and the air is as warm as autumn.”
+
+“Yes,” she answered almost under her breath. In a moment she spoke
+hurriedly, “Does your mother think—does she know—”
+
+“She is a woman,” he answered abruptly.
+
+“I wish—oh, I wish—” she hesitated, then added—“that she would not love
+me so much.”
+
+“It _is_ queer,” he said gravely.
+
+They drove in silence through the town and turned into the “mountain
+road”; after half a mile, they were in the country with their faces
+towards the glimmer of light that the sunset had left.
+
+“Miss Tessa, my mother believes in me.”
+
+“I know that.”
+
+“You do not weigh my words sufficiently. They do not mean enough to
+you.”
+
+“Is that so very strange?”
+
+“Yes, it is strange when I tell you that I know I was a fool! When I
+tell you that I have repented in dust and ashes. I did not understand
+you, nor myself, a year ago—I am dull about understanding people. I
+think that I am not quick about any thing; I can not make a quick reply;
+I have labored at my studies; I was not brilliant in school or college;
+I am very slow, but I am very _sure_. If you had been as slow as I, our
+friendship would never have had its break; you were too quick for me;
+but you understood me long before I understood myself; I did not
+understand myself until I was withdrawn from you. Do you believe that?”
+
+“Yes, I believe it. But you should have waited until you _did_
+understand.”
+
+“It is rather tough work for a man to confess himself a fool.”
+
+Tessa said nothing.
+
+“I do not ask to be excused, I ask to be forgiven; to be borne with.
+Will you be patient with me?”
+
+“I do not know how to be patient. I am too quick. I have been very
+bitter and unjust towards you; I judged you as if you were as quick as I
+am; I have even wished you dead; it does not do for us to be in a class
+together.”
+
+“Not in the short run; we haven’t tried the long run yet, and you are
+afraid to do that?”
+
+“I suppose I am. I am afraid of something; I think that I am afraid of
+myself.”
+
+“If you are not afraid of me, I do not care what you are afraid of.”
+
+“I am not afraid of you—now.”
+
+“Then if you do—reject me, it is because you are not satisfied with your
+heart toward me?”
+
+“Yes, that will be the reason,” she said slowly.
+
+“And none other?”
+
+“There is no reason in yourself; now that you have seen how you were
+wrong; the reason will all be in myself.”
+
+“Are you coming any nearer to an understanding with yourself?” he asked
+quietly.
+
+He had spoken in this same tone to a patient, a little child, not two
+hours since.
+
+The tone touched her more deeply than the words.
+
+“I do not know. I am trying not to reason. I have worn myself out with
+reasoning. You are very still, but I know that this time is terrible to
+you; as terrible as last year was to me! Believe me, I am not lightly
+keeping you in suspense. Truly I can not decide. There is some
+hindrance; I do not know what it is.”
+
+“I do not wish to hurry you; you shall have a year to decide if you
+prefer. It is very sudden to you; you need time and quiet to recover
+from the shock; you are very much shaken. You are not as strong as you
+were two years ago. The strain has been too great for you; when you have
+decided once for all time and all eternity, your eyes will look as they
+looked two years ago. All I ask you is be _sure_ of _yourself_! I
+promise not to trouble you for a year; I am sorry to be troubling you
+now. Are you very unhappy?”
+
+She was trembling and almost crying.
+
+“You shall not answer me, or think of answering me until you are ready;
+I deserve to suffer; I do not fear the issue of your self-analysis; when
+you have recovered from the shock and can _feel_ that you have forgiven
+me, then you will know whether you love me, whether you trust me. Will
+you write to me?”
+
+“No, sir.”
+
+He laughed in spite of his vexation; she resented the laugh; he was
+altogether too sure of his power.
+
+“You must not be so sure,” she began.
+
+“I shall be just as sure as—_you_ please.”
+
+“You think that I am very perplexing.”
+
+“You are full of freaks and whims; you are a Mystic. Dr. Lake truly
+named you. I used to think you a bundle of impulses, and now I find you
+sternly adhering to a principle. If your whim be founded on principle,
+and I verily believe it is, I honor you even when I am laughing at you.”
+
+“Don’t laugh at me; I am too miserable to bear that. Be patient with me
+as if I were ill.”
+
+“You are not strong enough to go from home. If you do not feel well,
+will you write for me to come and bring you home?”
+
+“I am well enough.”
+
+“Promise me, please.”
+
+“I can not promise,” she answered decidedly.
+
+They were neither of them in a mood for further talk; she felt more at
+rest than she had felt for two years; there was nothing to think of,
+nothing to be hurried about; she had a whole year to be happy in, and
+then—she would be happy then, too. As for him—she could not see his
+face, for they had turned into the cross-road, thickly wooded, that
+opened into the clearing before the gates of Old Place.
+
+He spoke to his horse in his usual tone, “Gently, Charlie.” He stooped
+to wrap the robe more closely about her feet; as he raised himself, she
+slipped her ungloved hand into his. “Don’t be troubled about me, I will
+not be troubled; I will not reason; but don’t be sure; perhaps when the
+year is over I shall not be satisfied.”
+
+“Then you must take another year.”
+
+“You will not be so patient with me another year; I shall not take
+another year.”
+
+“Tessa, you are a goose; but you are a darling, nevertheless.”
+
+“You do not understand me,” she said, withdrawing her hand.
+
+“I am too humble to expect ever to do that. You have never seen our
+home. Is it too late to go over the place to-night?”
+
+“I will go with your mother some time; she has described every room to
+me.”
+
+“Who is that fellow that you were engaged to?”
+
+“He is not a fellow.”
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“Felix Harrison.”
+
+“Ah!” Then after a pause, “Tell me the whole story.”
+
+The whole story was not long; she began with his school-boy love,
+speaking in short sentences, words and tone becoming more intense as she
+went on
+
+“I did not mean to be so wrong; but I was so unhappy and he cared—”
+
+“What shall I do without you all winter?”
+
+“What have you done without me every winter?” she asked merrily.
+
+With an effort she drew herself away from the arm that would have
+encircled her. Morbidly fearful of making another mistake, she would not
+answer his words or his tone.
+
+“The witches get into me at night,” she said, soberly, “and I say things
+that I may regret in the sunlight.”
+
+“It is not like you to regret speaking truth. Remember, I do not exact
+any promise from you; but if the time ever come that you know you love
+me, I want you to tell me so.”
+
+“I will.”
+
+He drove up under the maple trees, before the low iron fence, as he had
+done on the last night of the old year; another old year was almost
+ended; they stood holding each other’s hand, neither caring to speak.
+
+Ralph Towne would not have been himself, if he had not bent and kissed
+her lips; and she would not have been herself, had she not received it
+gravely and gladly. After that it was not easy to go in among the
+talkers and the lights; she stood longer than a moment on the piazza,
+schooling herself to bear scrutiny, to answer with unconcern; still she
+felt dizzy and answered the first questions rather at random.
+
+“Going around in the dark has set your wits to wool-gathering,” said her
+mother.
+
+“We waited tea,” said Dinah.
+
+“You did not come alone, daughter?” asked her father.
+
+“No, sir. Dr. Towne brought me.”
+
+“We are very hungry,” said Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“We will talk over the book before chess, Gus, if you please. I have
+some packing to do, and I am very tired.”
+
+“How is Sue?” inquired her mother.
+
+“Very well.”
+
+“Is she taking it hard?”
+
+“Perhaps. I do not know what hard is.”
+
+“Is her mourning all ready?”
+
+“Yes’m.”
+
+“A young widow is a beautiful sight,” observed Mrs. Wadsworth
+pathetically.
+
+“Probably some one will think so,” said Mr. Hammerton, speaking quickly
+to save Tessa from replying.
+
+“Take off your things, Tessa,” said Dinah. “I want my supper.”
+
+“It’s _his_ night, isn’t it?” asked Mr. Hammerton, teasingly; Dinah
+colored, looked confused, and ran down-stairs to ring the tea-bell.
+
+The door-bell clanged sharply through the house as they were rising from
+the table. “I was young myself once,” remarked Mr. Hammerton.
+
+“I don’t believe it,” retorted Dinah, putting her hands instinctively up
+to her hair.
+
+“You’ll do, run along,” laughed her father. “Oh, how old I feel to see
+my little girls becoming women.”
+
+“I should think Tessa would feel old,” replied Mrs. Wadsworth,
+significantly.
+
+“I do,” said Tessa, rising. “Where is your criticism, Mr. Critic; I have
+some packing to do to-night, so you may cut me to pieces before chess.”
+
+“No matter about chess,” said Mr. Wadsworth.
+
+“Yes, it is; I will not be selfish.”
+
+“Then run up and talk over your bookish talk, mother and I will come up
+presently.”
+
+The sitting-room was cozy and home-like, even after the luxury of Mrs.
+Towne’s handsome apartment. “I don’t want to go away,” sighed Tessa,
+dropping into a chair near the round black-and-green covered table. “Why
+can’t people stay at home always?”
+
+“Why indeed?” Mr. Hammerton moved a chair to her side and seating
+himself carelessly threw an arm over the back of her chair.
+
+How many evenings they had read and studied in this fashion, with Dine
+on a low stool, her curly head in her sister’s lap.
+
+“They will never come again.”
+
+“What?” asked Tessa opening the long, yellow envelope he had taken from
+his pocket.
+
+“The old days when you and Dine and I will not want any one else.”
+
+“True; Dine has left us already.”
+
+“But you and I are content without her!”
+
+“Are we? I am not sure! Gus your penmanship is perfect; when I am rich,
+you shall copy my books.”
+
+“How rich?”
+
+“Oh, rich enough to give you all you would ask,” she answered
+thoughtlessly. “I expect that I shall have to undergo a process as
+trying as vivisection; but I will not flinch; it is good for me.”
+
+“Don’t read it now; save it for the solitude of the country.”
+
+“No, I am anxious to see it; you can be setting up the chess-men; I
+don’t want to take you away from father.”
+
+With the color rising in his cheeks, he arose and moved the chess-board
+nearer; standing before her, he began slowly to arrange the pieces. The
+three large sheets were closely written; she read slowly, once breaking
+into a laugh and then knitting her brows and drawing her lips together.
+
+“Are you not pleased? Am I not just?”
+
+“A critic is not a fault-finder, necessarily; you are very plain. I will
+consider each sentence by itself in my solitude; you are a great help to
+me, Gus. I thank you very much. You have been a help to me all my life.”
+
+“I have tried to be,” he answered, taking up a castle and turning it in
+his fingers.
+
+“I will rewrite my book, remembering all your suggestions.”
+
+“You remember that Tennyson rewrote ‘Dora’ four hundred and forty-five
+times, that Victor Hugo declared that his six hundredth copy of
+‘Thanatopsis’ was his best, and that George Sand was heard to say with
+tears in her eyes that she wished she had rewritten ‘Adam Bede’ just
+once more and you have read that Tom Brown Hughes—”
+
+“Go away with your nonsense! I told Dr. Towne that you were my critic
+and that you knew every thing.”
+
+“Do you tell him every thing?” he asked, letting the castle fall upon
+the carpet.
+
+“That isn’t every thing.”
+
+“Will you play a game with me?”
+
+“No, thank you. I am too tired for any thing so tiresome.”
+
+“You are ungrateful. Did I not teach you to play?”
+
+“You did not teach me to play when I am tired.”
+
+“You have promised to write to me, haven’t you?” he asked.
+
+“No, I haven’t! If you only knew how many I _have_ promised; and Aunt
+Theresa has a basket quilt cut out for me to make, sixty-four blocks!
+How can you have the heart to suggest any thing beside?”
+
+“How many persons have you refused to write to?”
+
+“I just refused one.”
+
+“Am I the only one you have refused?”
+
+“Oh, no,” slipping the folded sheets into the envelope, “there is Mr.
+Gesner and Dr. Greyson and Professor Towne and—”
+
+“Dr. Towne?” His uneasy fingers scattered several pawns over the
+black-and-green covering.
+
+“Yes, and Dr. Towne! And he was very good about it, he only laughed.”
+
+“Lady Blue, speak the truth.”
+
+“About whom?”
+
+“The latter. I am not concerned about the others.”
+
+“I told you the truth and you do not believe me. Don’t you know that the
+truth is always funnier than a fabrication?”
+
+“If you ask me, perhaps I will come down and stay over a Sunday with
+you.”
+
+“Will you? Oh, I wish you would! I expect to be homesick. Uncle Knox
+will be delighted to have you to talk to.”
+
+“I do not think that I shall travel fifty miles on a cold night to talk
+to _him_.”
+
+“Then I am sure that you will not to talk to me.”
+
+“You do not know what I would do for you.”
+
+“Yes, I do. Any thing short of martyrdom. Don’t you want to go in and
+see John Woodstock? He is a pretty boy. There come father and mother.
+You will excuse me if I do not make my appearance again to-night; you
+know I have been with Sue and I am so tired.”
+
+“And you will not write to me?”
+
+“What for? You may read Dine’s letters.”
+
+“Tell me true, Tessa,” he answered catching both her hands, “_did_ you
+refuse to write to Dr. Towne?”
+
+“Yes, I did.”
+
+“Why, may I ask?”
+
+“For the same reason that I refuse to write to you—no, that is not quite
+true—” she added, “but it is because I don’t want to write to either of
+you.”
+
+“Have all these years given me the right to ask you a question?”
+
+He still held both hands.
+
+She answered seriously, “Yes. You are all the big brother I have.”
+
+“Then I will not ask it,” dropping her hands and turning away.
+
+“Say good-by, then.”
+
+“Good-by.”
+
+“I have not said any thing to displease you, have I?”
+
+“You will not write to me?”
+
+“No, I can’t. I would if I could. I will tell you—then you will
+understand and not care—somebody—”
+
+“What right has somebody—”
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth entered laughing, Mr. Wadsworth was close behind.
+
+“Excuse me, sir; I can’t stay to play to-night. Good night, Lady Blue. A
+pleasant visit and safe return.”
+
+An hour later Tessa was kneeling on the carpet before her open trunk
+squeezing a roll of pencilled manuscript into a corner.
+
+A tap at the door was followed by a voice, “Daughter, may I come in?”
+
+“If you will not mind the confusion.”
+
+He closed the door and seated himself on a chair near the end of the
+trunk.
+
+“There is a confusion somewhere that I _do_ mind,” he began nervously.
+
+She looked up in surprise. “Why, father, is there something that you
+don’t like? Don’t you like it about Dine?”
+
+“Daughter, if you are so blind that you will not see, I must tell you. I
+like it well enough about Dine, but I do not like it about _you_?”
+
+Was it about Dr. Towne? How could he object to him? For he could not be
+aware of _her_ objection.
+
+“I am afraid that you are teasing Gus rather too much.”
+
+“Teasing Gus! I never really teased him in my life. We have never
+quarrelled even once.”
+
+“I thought that women were quick about such things, but you are as blind
+as a bat.”
+
+“Such things?” She was making room for a glove box, a pretty one of
+Russia leather that Gus had given her. “He never cares for what I say!”
+
+“How do you know that?”
+
+“How do I know?” she repeated in perplexity, making space in a corner
+while she considered her reply. “Don’t _you_ know why he can not be
+teased by what I say and do?”
+
+“I know this—he has asked me if he may marry you some day.”
+
+“_Me!_ You mean Dine. You can’t mean me. I know it is Dine.”
+
+“Oh, child,” laughing heartily, “why should I mean Dine? Why should it
+not be you?”
+
+“It must be Dine,” she said positively. “Didn’t he say Dine?”
+
+“Am I in my dotage?”
+
+“Couldn’t you misunderstand?”
+
+“No, I could not. What is the matter with you, to-night? You act as if
+you were bewildered.”
+
+“So I am.”
+
+“One evening, on the piazza, was it in May or June? I was not well and I
+said so to him; and he answered by telling me that he had always thought
+of you, that he had grown up hoping to marry you. Dine! Am I blind? Have
+I been blind these ten years?”
+
+“Didn’t he say any thing about Dine?”
+
+“We spoke of her, of course. I would not tell you, but I see how you are
+playing with him; he will not intrude himself. O, Tessa, for a bright
+girl, you are very stupid.”
+
+“I am not bright; I am stupid.”
+
+“This sisterly love is all very well, but a man can not bear to have it
+carried too far. He is pure gold, daughter; he is worthy of a princess.
+Now don’t worry; you haven’t done any harm. Go to bed and go to sleep;
+you have had too much worry this last week.”
+
+“I know it must be Dine.”
+
+“If you did not look half sick, I would be angry with you. I thought
+women were quick witted.”
+
+“I suppose some are,” she said slowly. “He will never ask me, never.”
+
+“Why not?” he asked sharply.
+
+“Because—because—”
+
+“Because you haven’t thought of it. If you do not like any one—and I
+don’t see how you can—you don’t, do you?”
+
+“I don’t—know.”
+
+“There! There, dear, don’t cry! Go to sleep and forget it.”
+
+“I thought it was Dine. I have always thought that it was Dine.”
+
+“Well, good night. Don’t throw away the best man in the world. I have
+known him ever since he wore dresses, and he is worthy—even of you. Put
+out your light and go to sleep. Don’t give him a heartache.”
+
+“Oh, I won’t, I won’t—if I can help it!”
+
+“Don’t have any whims. There, child, don’t cry! Kiss me and go to
+sleep.”
+
+She did not cry; she was stunned and bewildered; it was too dreadful to
+be true; even if she did love Ralph Towne she would not love him if it
+would make unhappy this friend and helper of all her life! This new
+friend should not come between them to make him miserable. Even if the
+old dream about Ralph Towne _could_ come true, she would not accept his
+love at the cost of Gus Hammerton’s happiness. Was he not her right arm?
+Was he not her right eye? She had never missed him because he had always
+lived in her life; he was as much a part of her home as her father and
+Dine; she would give up any thing rather than hurt him. Had she not
+suffered with him when she thought that he was unhappy about Dine? She
+had loved him so much that she had never thought of loving him; she had
+been so proud that he had loved Dine. Was it his influence that had kept
+her from loving Felix Harrison? Was he the hindrance that was coming
+between her and Dr. Towne? Was she troubled because she could not honor
+and trust Dr. Towne as she had unconsciously honored and trusted this
+old, old friend? If the illusion about Ralph Towne had never been
+dispelled, she would not have discovered that Gus Hammerton was “pure
+gold” as her father had said. They were both miserable to-night because
+of her—and she had permitted one of them to kiss her. Ralph Towne had
+left her once to fight out her battle alone—he had not been the shadow
+of a rock in her weary land—she could think of this now away from the
+fascination of his presence; but, present or absent, there was no doubt,
+no reasoning about the old friend; he had been tried, he was steadfast
+and true. True, she had forgiven Ralph Towne; but her forgiveness had
+not wrought any change in him. He was the Ralph Towne of a year ago,
+with this difference that now he loved her. Had his love for her wrought
+any change in him? Was he not himself? Would he not always be himself?
+Was she satisfied with him if she could feel the need of change?
+
+A year ago would she have reasoned thus? Where love is, is there need of
+reasoning to prove its existence, its depth or its power of continuance?
+She knew that she loved God; she knew that she loved her father. If she
+loved Ralph Towne, why did she not know that, also?
+
+Why must she reason? Why might she not _know_? She did not know that she
+loved him. Did she know that she did _not_ love him? Wearied even to
+exhaustion, her head drooped until it touched the soft pile in the open
+trunk; there were no tears, not a sound moved her lips; she was very
+glad that she was going away.
+
+If she might tell Gus, would he not talk it over to her and make it
+plain? It would not be the first matter in which he had taught her to
+discern between the wrong and the right. Was there a wrong and a right
+in this choosing?
+
+The large tears gathered and fell.
+
+Ralph Towne could not help her; he would say caressingly, “Love me, and
+end the matter.” In her extremity he was not a helper. Would he ever be
+in any extremity of hers?
+
+The tears fell for very weariness and bewilderment. What beside was
+there to shed tears about? She was so weary that she had forgotten.
+
+A laugh in the hall below; the sound of a scuffle, another laugh, and
+the closing of the street door.
+
+Those two children!
+
+Dinah burst into the room, still laughing. “Why, Tessa! All through! You
+look as if you wanted to pack yourself up, too,” she cried in a breezy
+voice. “The candle is almost burnt down.”
+
+“No matter. Don’t get another.”
+
+“Your voice sounds as if you were sick. Mother has been expecting you to
+be too sick to go.”
+
+“I shall not be sick,” rising, and dropping the lid of her trunk. “Tell
+me about the night you overheard Gus talking to father on the piazza.”
+
+“I did tell you, didn’t I? He did not mind because John came tonight;
+didn’t you hear him tease me? About that night? Oh, I was asleep, and
+they were on the piazza; of course I don’t know how long they had been
+talking, nor what suggested it, but I heard him say,—really I’ve
+forgotten just what, it was so long ago,—but father said that he was so
+glad and happy about it, or it meant that. I suppose I may have missed
+some of it. Poor old Gus said that he knew I did not care for any one
+else. Isn’t it touching? Poor fellow! And I didn’t then. I never should
+if I hadn’t gone away and found John. Lucky for me, wasn’t it? Gus never
+looked at me as he did at you tonight, anyway; I guess he’s
+transferring.”
+
+Long after midnight Tessa fell asleep; her last thought shaping itself
+thus:
+
+“I can not reason myself into loving or not loving, any more than I can
+reason the sun into shining or not shining.”
+
+On her way to the train the next morning, she mailed a letter addressed—
+
+ _“Ralph Towne, M. D.,
+ City.”_
+
+Her tender, passionate, truth-loving, bewildered heart had poured itself
+out in these words:
+
+ * * * * *
+
+“I am so afraid of leading you to think something that is not true;
+something that I may have to contradict in the future. When I am with
+you, I forget every thing but you; when I am alone, my heart rises up
+and warns me that I may be making another mistake, that I only _think_ I
+love you because I want to so much, and that I should only worry you
+with my caprices and doubts if I should marry you. You have been very
+patient with me, but you might lose your patience if I should try it too
+far. I _will_ not marry you until I am _sure_; I must know of a
+certainty that I love you with the love that hopes, endures, that can
+suffer long and still is kind. You do not know me, I am hard and proud;
+when I went down into the Valley of Humiliation because of believing
+that you loved me when you did not, I was not gentle and sweet and
+forgiving—I was hard and bitter; I hated you almost as much as I had
+loved you. Now I must think it all through and live through all those
+days, the days when I loved you and the days when I hated you, before I
+can understand myself. I could marry you and we could live a life of
+surface peace and satisfaction, and you might be satisfied in me and
+with me; but if _I_ felt the need of loving you more than I did love
+you, my life would be bondage. If the pride and hardness and
+unforgivingness may be taken away and I _may_ love you and believe in
+you as I did that day that you brought me the English violets, I shall
+be as happy—no, a thousand times happier than I was then. But you must
+not hope for that; it is not _natural_; it may be that of grace such
+changes are wrought, but grace is long in working in proud hearts. You
+are not bound to me by any word that you have spoken; find some one
+gentle and loving who will love you for what you are and for what you
+will be.”
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.—WHAT SHE MEANT.
+
+
+In the weeks that followed, Tessa learned to the full the meaning of
+_homesickness_. No kindness could have exceeded the kindness that she
+hourly received from uncle and aunt and from the inmates of the cottage
+over the way; still every night, or rather early every morning, she fell
+asleep with tears upon her cheeks; she longed for her father, her
+mother, for Dine and Gus, for Miss Jewett, for Nan Gerard, and even
+poor, grief-stricken Sue; for Mrs. Towne’s dear face and dear hands she
+longed inexpressibly, and she longed with a longing to which she would
+give no sympathy for another presence, an unobtrusive presence that
+would not push its way, a presence with the aroma of humility,
+gentleness, and a shy love that persisted with a persistence that
+neither the darkness of night nor the light of day could dispel.
+
+Lying alone in the darkness in the strange, low room, with a fading glow
+upon the hearth that lent an air of unreality to the old-fashioned
+furniture, she congratulated herself upon having been brave and true, of
+having withheld from her lips a draught for which she had so long and so
+despairingly thirsted; she had been so brave and true that she must
+needs be strong, wherefore then was she so weak? Sometimes for hours she
+would lie in perfect quiet thinking of Mr. Hammerton; but thinking of
+him as calmly as she thought about her father. There was no intensity in
+her love for him, no thrill, save that of gratitude for his years of
+brotherly watchfulness; she would have been proud of him had he married
+Dine; his friendship was a distinction that she had worn for years as
+her rarest ornament; he was her intellect, as her father was her
+conscience, but to give up all the others for him, to love him above
+father, mother, sister—to give up forever the hope of loving Ralph Towne
+some day—she shuddered and covered her face with her hands there alone
+in the dark. Cheery enough she was through the days, sewing for Aunt
+Theresa and falling into her happiest talk of books and people, thoughts
+and things, reading aloud to Uncle Knox, and every evening reading aloud
+the pages of manuscript that she had written that day, and every
+afternoon, laying aside work or writing, to run across to the cottage
+for a couple of hours with Miss Sarepta.
+
+Miss Sarepta at her window in her wheelchair watched all day the black,
+brown, or blue figure at her writing or sewing, and when the hour came,
+saw the pencils dropped into the box, the leaves of manuscript gathered,
+the figure rise and toss out its arms with a weary motion; then, in a
+few moments the figure with a bright shawl over its head would run down
+the path, stand a moment at the gate to look up and down and all around,
+and then, with the air of a child out of school, run across the street
+and sometimes around the garden before she brought her bright face into
+the watcher’s cosy, little world.
+
+Miss Sarepta’s mother described Tessa as “bright, wide awake, and ready
+for the next thing.”
+
+Miss Sarepta told Tessa that while knowing that good things were laid up
+for her, she had no thought that such a good thing as Tessa Wadsworth
+was laid up for this winter’s enjoyment and employment.
+
+It may be that the strain of the day’s living added to the feverishness
+of the night’s yearnings; for when darkness fell and the wind sounded in
+the sitting-room chimney, her heart sank, her hands grew cold, her
+throat ached with repressed tears, and when she could no longer bear it,
+the daily paper having been read aloud and a letter or two written, she
+would take her candle and bid the old people as cheery a good night as
+her lips could utter and hasten up-stairs to her fire on the hearth to
+reperuse her letters and to dream waking dreams of what might be, and
+when the fire burned low to lie awake in the darkness, till, spent in
+flesh and in spirit, she would fall asleep.
+
+At the beginning of the third week, she took herself to hand; with a
+figurative and merciless gripe upon each shoulder she thus addressed
+herself: “Now, Tessa Wadsworth, you and I have had enough of this; we
+have had enough of freaks and whims for one lifetime; you are to behave
+and go to sleep.”
+
+Behaving and going to sleep took until midnight with the first attempt,
+and she dreamed of Dr. Lake and awoke crying. Was Sue crying, too? Sue
+had loved her husband, his influence would color all her life, she might
+yet become her ideal of a woman; _womanly_. Sue’s hand had been in his
+life; had not his hand with a firmer grasp tightened around her life?
+
+Tessa did not forget to be metaphysical even at midnight with the tears
+of a dream on her eyelashes.
+
+Was every one she loved asleep, or had some one dreamed of her and awoke
+to think of her?
+
+“God bless every one I love,” she murmured, “and every one who loves
+me.”
+
+The next night by sheer force of will she was asleep before the clock
+struck eleven, and did not dream of home or once awake until Hilda, the
+Swedish servant, passed her door at dawn.
+
+Her letters through this time were radiant, of course. Mrs. Towne only,
+with her perfect understanding of Tessa, detected the homesickness, or
+heartsickness. Tessa was wading in deep waters; she did not need her,
+else she would have come to her. She had learned that it was her
+characteristic to fight out her battles alone.
+
+Had Ralph any thing to do with this? He had suddenly grown graver, not
+more silent; in the morning his eyes would have a sleepless look, the
+sunshine seemed utterly gone from them; once he said, apropos of
+nothing, after a long fit of abstraction: “It is right for a man to pay
+for being a fool and a knave, but it comes terribly hard.”
+
+“I suppose it must,” she had replied, “until he learns how God
+forgives.”
+
+In her next letter to Tessa, Mrs. Towne had written, “Do you know how
+God forgives?” and Tessa had replied, “You and I seem to be thinking the
+same thought nowadays, and nowanights, for last night it came to me that
+loving _enough_ to forgive is the love that makes Him so happy.”
+
+This letter was the only one of all written that winter that Mrs. Towne
+showed to her son. It was not returned to her. Months afterward he
+showed it to Tessa, saying that that thought was more to him than all
+the sermons to which he had ever listened. “Because you didn’t know how
+to listen,” she answered saucily, adding in a reverent tone, “I did not
+understand it until I _lived_ it.”
+
+The letter had been written with burning cheeks; if he might read it,
+she would be glad; it would reveal something that she did not dare tell
+him herself; but she had no hope that he would see it.
+
+“Tessa is not so bright as she was,” observed Miss Sarepta’s mother,
+“she’s more settled down; I guess that she has found out what she means;
+it takes a deal of time for young women to do that.”
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.—SHUT IN.
+
+
+It was a trial to Sarepta Towne that the sun did not rise and set in the
+west, for in that case her bay window would have been perfect.
+
+Dinah had named this window “summer time:” on each side ivy was climbing
+in profusion; on the right side stood a fuchsia six feet in height;
+opposite this an oleander was bursting into bloom; a rose geranium and a
+pot of sweet clover were placed on brackets and were Tessa’s special
+favorites; one hanging basket from which trailed Wandering Jew was
+filled with oxalis in bloom, another was but a mass of graceful and
+shining greens.
+
+In the centre of the window on a low table stood a Ward’s case; into
+this Dinah had never grown tired of looking; Professor Towne had
+constructed it on his last visit at home, and one of the pleasures of it
+to Miss Sarepta had consisted in the talks they had while planning it
+together. Among its ferns, mosses, berries, and trailing arbutus they
+had formed a grotto of shells and bits of rocks; the floor was bits of
+looking-glass; tufts of eye-bright were mingled with the mosses and were
+now in bloom, and Miss Sarepta was sure that the trailing arbutus would
+flower before Tessa could bring it home to her from the woods.
+
+“This room is full of Philip and Cousin Ralph,” Sarepta had said; “his
+picture is but one of the things in it and in this house to remind me of
+Cousin Ralph.”
+
+“Sarepta breathes Philip,” her mother replied.
+
+“We are twin spirits like Blaise and Jacqueline Pascal. Do you know
+about them, Tessa?”
+
+“I know that he was a monk and she a nun.”
+
+“That is like me, and not like Philip,” said Miss Sarepta; “he shall not
+be a monk because I am a nun!”
+
+“His wife will be jealous enough of you, though,” said Mrs. Towne; “not
+a mail comes that he does not send you something. How would she like
+that?”
+
+“Philip could not love any one that would come between us. Tessa, do you
+admire my brother as much as I wish you to do?”
+
+“I admire him exceedingly,” said Tessa, looking up from her twenty-fifth
+block of the basket quilt; “he is my ideal. I knew that I had found my
+ideal as soon as I saw him; I did not wait to hear him speak.”
+
+And that he was her ideal she became more and more assured, for in
+February he spent a week at home and she had opportunity to study him at
+all hours and in any hour of the day. He had lost his fancied
+resemblance to Dr. Towne, or _she_ had lost it in thinking of him as
+only himself. The long talks, during which she sat, at Miss Sarepta’s
+side, on a foot cushion, work in hand, the basket blocks, or some more
+fanciful work for Miss Sarepta, she remembered afterward as one of the
+times in her life in which she _grew_. She told Miss Sarepta that she
+and her brother were like the men and women that St. Paul in his
+Epistles sent his love to. “He ought to marry a saint like Madame Guyon;
+I think that it would be easier to revere him as a saint than to marry
+him. I can’t imagine any woman forgiving him, or loving him because he
+_needs_ her love; he stands so far above me, I could never think of him
+as at my side and sometimes saying, ‘Help me, Tessa,’ or, ‘What do _you_
+think?’”
+
+“Now we know your ideal of marriage,” laughed Mrs. Towne. “Philip is a
+good boy, but he sometimes needs looking after.”
+
+“Stockings and shirt buttons!”
+
+“And other things, too. He is forgetful, and he’s rather careless. How
+much he is taken up with that reading class!”
+
+“In a monkish way,” smiled Miss Sarepta. “He was full of enthusiasm
+about Ralph, too, mother.”
+
+“How is it, Miss Tessa, do you admire Dr. Towne as much as you do St.
+Philip?” inquired the old lady with good-humored sarcasm.
+
+“He is not a saint,” said Tessa, “he needs looking after in several
+matters besides stockings and shirt buttons.”
+
+“Philip talks about him! What is it that he says he is, Sarepta?”
+
+“In his profession just what he expected that he would be,—quick, quiet,
+gentle, sympathetic, patient, persevering; he has thrown himself into it
+heart and soul. Philip used to wonder if he would ever find his
+vocation; his life always had a promise of good things—”
+
+“But he was slow about it; not quick like Philip; he should have begun
+practice ten years ago. What has he been doing all this time?”
+
+“We can see the fruit of his doing, mother; it does not much matter as
+to the doing itself. Don’t you know that six years are given to the
+perfecting even of a beetle?”
+
+“I don’t know about beetles and things; I know that I used to think that
+my boy would outstrip Lydia’s boy.”
+
+“Mother! mother!” laughed Sarepta, “you mind earthly things. I shall
+never run a race with anybody. Can’t you be a little proud of me?”
+
+Sarepta Towne had her brother’s eyes, but her hair was brighter, with
+not one silver thread among its short curls; her fair, fresh face was
+certainly ten years younger than his. In summer her wrappers were of
+white; in winter she kept herself a bird in gay plumage; always the
+singing-bird, in white or crimson. When Philip Towne said “My sister,”
+his voice and eyes said “My saint.”
+
+Once, after a silence, Tessa asked about her “Shut-ins.” “How did it
+come into your heart at first?”
+
+“It is a long story; first tell me what your heart has been about. It
+has been painting your eyes darker and darker.”
+
+“It is a very foolish heart then; it was only repeating something that I
+learned once and did not then understand. I do not know that I can say
+it correctly, but it is like this:
+
+ “‘God’s generous in giving, say I,
+ And the thing which he gives, I deny
+ That He ever can take back again.
+ He gives what He gives: be content.
+ He resumes nothing given; be sure.
+ God lend? where the usurers lent
+ In His temple, indignant He went
+ And scourged away all those impure.
+ He lends not, but gives to the end,
+ As He loves to the end. If it seem
+ That He draws back a gift, comprehend
+ ’Tis to add to it rather, amend
+ And finish it up to your dream.’”
+
+“Well?” said Miss Sarepta.
+
+“Once,—a long time ago, it seems now,—He gave me something; it was love
+for somebody; and then He took it—or I let it go, because it was too
+much trouble to keep it; I did not like His gift, it hurt too much; I
+was glad to let it go, and yet I missed it so; I was not worthy such a
+perfect gift as a love that could be hurt in loving; I could love as I
+loved all beauty and goodness and truth, but when I found that love must
+hold on and endure, must hope and believe, must suffer shame and loss, I
+gave it up. God was generous in giving; He gave me all I could receive,
+and when He would have given me more, I shrank away from His giving and
+said, ‘It hurts too much. I am too proud to take love or give love if I
+must be made humble first. I wanted to give like a queen, not stooping
+from my full height, and I wanted to give to a king: instead, I was
+asked to give—just like any common mortal to another common mortal, and
+that after we had misinterpreted and misunderstood each other, and I had
+written hard things of him all over my heart, and what he had thought
+me, nobody knows but himself! And now I think, if I will, that I may
+have the love again finished up to my dream; finished above any thing
+that I knew how to ask or think, and it is altogether too good and
+perfect a gift for me; so good that I can not keep it, I must needs give
+it away.”
+
+Tessa had told her story with quickened breath, not once lifting the
+eyes that were growing darker and darker.
+
+Miss Sarepta’s “thank you” held all the appreciation that Tessa wished.
+
+“And now,” after another silence, for these two loved silences together,
+“you want to know about my dear Shut-ins. Philip named them from the
+words, ‘And the Lord shut him in.’ It began one day when I was sitting
+alone thinking! I am often sitting alone thinking; but this day I was
+thinking sad thoughts about my useless, idle life, and I had planned my
+life to be such a busy life. There was nothing that I could do to help
+along; I had to sit still and be helped; and I shouldn’t wonder if I
+cried a little. That was five years ago, we were living in the city
+then; in the middle of my bemoanings and my tears, I spied the postman
+crossing the street. How Philip laughed when I told him that I loved
+that postman better than any man in all the world! That day he brought
+me several lovely things: one of them a book from Cousin Ralph, and a
+letter from Aunt Lydia; that letter is the beginning of my story. She
+told me about a little invalid that she had found and suggested that I
+should write one of my charming letters to her. Of course you know that
+I write charming letters! So I wiped away my naughty tears and wrote the
+charming letter! In a few days, my hero, the postman, brought the reply.
+That was my first Shut-in letter. Bring me the album, I will show you
+Susie.”
+
+Tessa brought it and Miss Sarepta opened it on her lap to an
+intelligent, serious, sweet face.
+
+“She has not taken a step for many years; she is among the youngest of
+many children; her great love is love for children, she teaches daily
+thirteen little ones. The one thing in her life that strikes me is her
+_faithfulness_. There is nothing too little for her to be faithful in.
+One of her great longings used to be for letters; oh, if the postman
+would only bring her a letter! For a year or two I wrote every week, the
+longest, brightest, most every-day letters I could think of. And one day
+it came to me that if _we_ had such a good time together, why should we
+not find some other to whom a letter or a book would be as a breath of
+fresh air. I pondered the matter for a month or two, but I couldn’t
+advertise for an invalid, and none of my friends knew of any. One
+morning I glanced through a religious paper, and tossed it aside, then
+something moved me to pick it up again, and there she was! The one I
+sought! That was Elsie. Look at her pale, patient face. For fourteen
+years she has lived in one room. And hasn’t she the brightest, most
+grateful, happiest heart that ever beat in a frail body or a strong one?
+Her poems are graceful little things; I will show you some of them. She
+had been praying six months for a helpful friend, when she received my
+first letter. Her letters are gems. You shall read a pile of them. And
+she had a Shut-in friend, to whom I must write, of course. She is Mabel.
+I have no picture of her. When she was well, they called her the
+laughing girl; she has lain eleven years in bed!”
+
+“Oh, dear me!” sighed Tessa.
+
+“Don’t sigh, child. She writes in pencil as she can not lift her head. I
+call her my sunbeam. She often dates her letters ‘In my Corner.’ So
+another year went on with my three Shut-ins. I forgot to cry about my
+folded hands and useless life. One day it came into my mind to write a
+sketch and call it, ‘Our Shut-in Society’; to write all about Mabel and
+Elsie and Sue, and send it to the paper in which I had found Elsie’s
+first article.
+
+“And that sketch! How it was read! I received letters from north, south,
+east, and west concerning it. Was there really such a society, and were
+there such happy people as Mabel, Elsie, and Susie? One who had not
+spoken aloud for fourteen years would love to write to them; another who
+had locked her school-room door one summer day, and come home to rest,
+had been forced to rest through eight long years, and was so lonely,
+with her sisters married and away; another, quite an old man, who had
+lain for six years in the loft of an old log-cabin, was eager for a word
+or a paper. How his letter touched us all! ‘The others have letters, but
+when the mail comes naught comes to me,’ he wrote. But you will be tired
+of hearing my long story; you shall see their letters; you must see
+Delle’s letters; she sits all day in a wheelchair, and has no hope of
+ever taking a step; she has a mother and a little boy; the brightest
+little boy! Her poems have appeared in some of our best periodicals; we
+are something beside a band of sufferers, Miss Tessa; some of us are
+literary! My most precious letters are from Elizabeth; her fiftieth
+birthday came not long since; for ten years her home has been in one
+room; she has written a book that the Shut-ins cry over.
+
+“And oh, we have a prisoner! A Shut-in shut up in state’s prison. A
+young man with an innocent, boyish face; he ran away from home when he
+was a child and ran into state’s prison because no one cared what became
+of him. His letters are unaffected and grateful; he does want to be a
+good boy! Thirty-six are on my list now; I would find more if I had
+strength to write more; some of them have more and some less than I;
+many of them have Shut-ins that I know nothing about. We remember each
+other on holidays and birthdays! The things that postmen and country
+mail-carriers have in their mail-bags are funny to see: flower seeds,
+bits of fancy work, photographs, pictures, any thing and every thing!
+
+“They all look forward to mail-time through the night and through the
+day.
+
+“And, speaking humanly, my share in it, all I receive and the little I
+give, came out of my self-bemoanings and tears; my longing to be a
+helper in some small way!
+
+“Now if you want to help me, you may cut some blocks of patch-work for
+me. One of the Shut-ins is making a quilt to leave as a memorial to her
+daughter, and I want to send my contribution to the mail to-night; and
+you may direct several papers for me, and cover that book, ‘Thoughts for
+Weary Hours.’ I press you into my service, you see.”
+
+“Miss Sarepta, I am ashamed.”
+
+“Shame is an evidence of something; go on.”
+
+“I am ashamed that I am such a dreamer.”
+
+“Philip says that you are a dreamer.”
+
+“I care for my writing.”
+
+“Mowers work while they whet their scythes,” quoted Miss Sarepta.
+
+
+
+
+XXV.—BLUE MYRTLE.
+
+
+In March, Tessa found myrtle in bloom, and took a handful of the blue
+blossoms mingled with sprays of the green leaves to Miss Sarepta.
+
+“Spring has come,” she said dropping them on the open book in Miss
+Sarepta’s lap.
+
+“If spring has come, then I must lose you.”
+
+“Every hand that I know in Dunellen is beckoning me homewards; my
+winter’s work is done.”
+
+That evening—it was the sixth of March, that date ever afterward was
+associated with blue myrtle and Nan Gerard—she was sitting at the table
+writing letters; in the same chair and at the same place at the table
+where Dinah had written her letter about Gus and her wonderful John;
+Aunt Theresa was knitting this evening also, and Uncle Knox was asleep
+in a chintz-covered wooden rocker with the big cat asleep on his knees.
+
+She had written a letter to Mabel and one to Elsie, lively descriptive
+letters, making a picture of Miss Sarepta’s book-lined,
+picture-decorated, flower-scented room and a picture of Miss Sarepta,
+also touching lightly upon her own breezy out-of-door life with its hard
+work and its beautiful hopes. The third letter was a sheet to Mrs.
+Towne; the sentence in ending was one that Mrs. Towne had been eagerly
+and anxiously expecting all through the winter: “My ring reminds me of
+my promise; a promise that I shall keep some day, perhaps.”
+
+“Tessa, are you unhappy, child?” asked Aunt Theresa with a knitting
+needle between her lips.
+
+“Unhappy! Why, auntie, what am I doing?”
+
+The tall lamp with its white china shade stood between them. Aunt
+Theresa took the knitting needle from its place of safety and counted
+fourteen stitches before she replied.
+
+“Sighing! When young people sigh, something must ail them. What do _you_
+have to be miserable about?”
+
+“I am not miserable.”
+
+“Tell me, what are you miserable about?”
+
+“Sometimes—I am not satisfied—that is all.”
+
+“I should think that that was enough. What are you dissatisfied about?
+Haven’t you enough to eat and to drink and clothes enough to wear?
+Haven’t you a good father and mother who wouldn’t see you want for any
+thing? What is it that you haven’t enough of, pray?”
+
+“I do not know that I am wishing for any thing—to night. I am learning
+to wait.”
+
+“Yes, you are! You are wishing for something that isn’t in this world, I
+know.”
+
+“Then I’ll find it in heaven.”
+
+“People don’t sigh after heaven as a usual thing. You read too many
+books, that’s what’s the matter with you. Reading too many books affects
+different people in different ways; I’ve seen a good deal of girls’
+reading.”
+
+Tessa’s pen was scribbling initials on a half sheet of paper.
+
+“I know the symptoms. Some girls when they read love-stories become
+dissatisfied with their looks; they look into the glass and worry over
+their freckles or their dark skins, or their big mouths or turn-up
+noses; they fuss over their waists and try to squeeze them slim and
+slender, and they cripple themselves squeezing their number four feet
+into number two shoes. But you are not that kind. And some girls despise
+their fathers and mothers because they can’t speak grammar and pronounce
+long words, and because they say ‘care’ for carry and ‘empt’ for empty!
+And they despise their homes and their plain, substantial furniture. But
+you are not that kind either. Your face is well enough, and your father
+and mother are well enough, and your home is well enough.”
+
+Tessa was scribbling Dunellen, then she wrote R. T. and Nan Gerard.
+
+“And you are not sighing for a lordly lover,” continued Aunt Theresa,
+with increasing energy “You don’t want him to wear a cloak or carry a
+sword. Your trouble is different! You read a higher grade of
+love-stories, about men that are honorable and true, who would die
+before they would tell a lie or say any thing that isn’t so. They are as
+gentle as zephyrs; they would walk over eggs and not crack them; they
+are always thinking of something new and startling and deep that it
+can’t enter a woman’s mind to conceive, and their faces have different
+expressions enough in one minute to wear one ordinary set of muscles
+out; and they never think of themselves, they would burn up and not know
+it, because they were keeping a fly off of somebody else; they are so
+high and mighty and simple and noble that an angel might take pattern by
+them. And that is what troubles you. You read about such fine fellows
+and shut the book and step out into life and break your heart because
+the real, mannish man, who is usually as good as human nature and all
+the grace he has got will help him be, isn’t so perfect and noble as
+this perfect man that somebody has made out of his head. You can’t be
+satisfied with a real human man who thinks about himself and does wrong
+when it is too hard to do right, even if he comes on his bended knees
+and says he’s sorry and that he’ll never do such a thing again. You want
+to love somebody that you are proud of; you are too proud to love
+somebody that is as weak as you are. And so you can’t be satisfied at
+all! Why _must_ you be satisfied?”
+
+“Why should I not be?”
+
+“For the best reason in the world; to be satisfied in any man, in his
+love for you and in your love for him, would be—do you know what it
+would be? It would be idolatry.”
+
+Aunt Theresa’s attention was given to her knitting; she did not see the
+shining of Tessa’s eyes.
+
+“Be satisfied with God, child, and take all the happiness you can get.”
+
+Tessa’s pen was making tremulous capitals.
+
+“Be satisfied _with_, if you can, but not _in_, some good man who
+stumbles to-day and stands straight to-morrow; I fought it out on that
+line once, and so I know all about it.”
+
+This then was the experience that Dr. Towne had said that she must ask
+for; had he guessed that it would be altogether on his side?
+
+This was it, and this was all. Uncle Knox’s old eyes had a look for his
+old wife that they never held for any other living thing, and as for
+Aunt Theresa, how often had Tessa thought, “I want to grow old and love
+somebody the way you do.”
+
+_Might_ she be satisfied with God and love Ralph Towne all she wanted
+to?
+
+“Why, Theresa,” exclaimed Uncle Knox, opening his eyes and staring at
+his wife, “I haven’t heard you talk so much sentiment for thirty years.”
+
+“And you will not in another thirty years. But Tessa was in a tangle—I
+know eggs when I see the shells—and I had to help her out.”
+
+A tap at the window brought Tessa to her feet. A neighbor had brought
+the mail; she took the papers and letters with a most cordial “thank
+you” and came to the table with both hands full. The papers she opened
+and glanced through; the letters she took up-stairs to read. The
+business-looking envelope she opened first; she read it once, twice,
+then gave an exclamation of delight. Oh, how pleased her father would
+be! Her manuscript had given such perfect satisfaction that, although
+written for pictures, the pictures would be discarded and new ones made
+to illustrate her story. Gus would congratulate her, and Miss Jewett;
+this appreciation by the publisher was the crown that the winter’s work
+would always wear for her. With a long breath, she sighed, “Oh, what a
+blessed winter this has been to me!”
+
+The long, white envelope was from Mrs. Towne, the chocolate from Sue,
+the cream-colored from Dinah, the pale blue from Miss Jewett, the pink
+from Nan Gerard, and the square white from Laura Harrison. Mr. Hammerton
+had not once written; a kind message through her father or Dinah was all
+evidence he had given of remembrance. Mrs. Towne’s letter was opened
+before the others. What would Dine or Miss Jewett or Laura think of
+this? The faint perfume was the lady herself, so real was her presence
+that Tessa felt her arms about her as she read.
+
+“Sue does not come to me as often as in the winter,” she wrote; “the
+Gesners, one and all, are proving themselves more alluring. Miss Gesner
+will be a good friend to her. If you could hear her laugh and talk, you
+would think of her as Sue Greyson and never as the widowed Mrs. Lake.
+She is Dr. Lake’s widow, certainly she is not his wife. Ralph growls
+about it in his kind way, but I think that he did not expect any thing
+deeper from her. Nan Gerard was with me all day yesterday; she was as
+sweet and shy as a wild flower. Nan’s heart is awake. Am I a silly old
+woman? I dream of you every night. I would be a washer-woman and live in
+Gesner’s Row, if I might have you for my daughter, never to leave me.
+Now I _am_ a silly old woman and I will go to bed.”
+
+The perfumed sheet was passed to the reader’s lips before the next
+envelope was torn open.
+
+Dinah’s letter was a sheet of foolscap; it was written as a diary.
+
+The first entry was merely an account of attending a concert with John;
+the second stated in a few strong words the failure of a bank. Old Mr.
+Hammerton had lost a large amount of money and had had a stroke of
+paralysis.
+
+The third contained the history of a call from Sue; how tall and elegant
+she looked in her rich mourning, and how she had talked about her
+courtship and marriage all the time.
+
+The fourth day their father had had an attack of pain, but it had not
+lasted as long as usual.
+
+The last page was filled in Dine’s eager, story-telling style:
+
+“Just to think, Tessa, now I know the end of my romance. It was dark
+last night just before tea, and I went into the front hall for something
+that I wanted to get out of the hat-stand drawer. The sitting-room door
+stood slightly ajar; I did not know that Gus was with father until I
+heard his voice. I did not listen, truly I did not; after I heard the
+first sentence I didn’t dare stir for fear of making my presence known.
+I moved off as easily and swiftly as I could, but I heard every word as
+plainly as if I had been in the room. It is queer that I should overhear
+the beginning and the ending of poor Gus’s only romance, isn’t it? I
+heard him say, ‘Every thing is changed in my plans; father is left with
+nothing but his good name, my mother is aged and feeble, my sister is a
+widow with a child; _her_ money is gone, too. I am the sole support of
+four people. I could not marry, even if I desired to do so. And since I
+have definitely learned that she does not think of me, and never has
+thought of me, and that she thinks of some one else, the bachelor’s life
+will be no great hardship.’
+
+“I had got to the parlor door by that time, so, of course, I never can
+know father’s answer. But isn’t it dreadful? I suppose that he is over
+the disappointment, for his voice sounded as cool as usual; too cold, I
+thought. I should have liked him better if he had been in a flutter. I
+shall never tell any body but John. Poor old, wise old, dear old Gus! He
+will pursue the even tenor of his unmarried way, and no one will ever
+guess that he has had a romance. Perhaps Felix Harrison has had one,
+too. Perhaps every body has.”
+
+So it _was_ Dinah, after all. And she had fought her long, hard fights
+all for nothing.
+
+It _was_ Dine, and now her father would understand; he would not think
+her blind and stupid; he would not be disappointed that she had not
+chosen his choice!
+
+And that it was herself that Gus Hammerton had loved, the wife of John
+Woodstock always believed. And that it was herself, Tessa never knew;
+for not knowing that he had stood at the window that night that Dr.
+Towne had brought her home, and witnessed their parting at the gate, how
+could she divine that “definitely learned that she does not think of
+me,” had referred to her?
+
+Mr. Wadsworth had listened in utter bewilderment, recalling Tessa’s
+repeated declaration that it was Dinah. “I _am_ in my dotage,” he
+thought; “for I certainly understood that he said Tessa.”
+
+“My wish was with your wish,” he said.
+
+“She will be better satisfied,” Mr. Hammerton answered in his most
+abrupt tone. “He is a fine man; I can understand his attraction for
+her.”
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth entered at that instant and the conversation was too
+fraught with pain to both ever to be resumed; therefore it fell out that
+Mr. Hammerton was the only one in the world who ever knew, beyond a
+perhaps, which of the sisters he had asked of the father.
+
+That Tessa had not been influenced by his importunate and mistaken
+urging, was one of the things that her father was thankful for to the
+end of his days.
+
+“Poor Gus! The dear, brave boy,” sighed Tessa over her letter. “And my
+worry has only been to reveal to me that I can not reason myself into
+loving or not loving.”
+
+A paragraph in Nan Gerard’s letter was dwelt long upon; then the
+daintily written pink sheet dropped from her fingers and she sat bending
+forward looking into the glowing brands until the lights were out
+down-stairs and Hilda’s heavy step had passed her door.
+
+“Oh, Naughty Nan!” she said rousing herself, “I hope that you love him
+very, very much. Better than I know how to do!”
+
+The paragraph ran in this fashion:
+
+“I have had a very pretty present; I really believe that I like it
+better than any thing that Robert ever gave me. It is a ring with an
+onyx: on the stone is engraved two letters in monogram. You shall guess
+them, my counsellor, and it will not be hard when I whisper that one of
+them is T. I am very happy and very good. ‘Nan’s Experiment’ is burnt up
+and with it all my foolishness. ‘Such as I wish it to be.’ I think of
+that whenever I look at my ring. Tell me all about your lovely Miss
+Sarepta. I like to know how I shall have to behave before her. We are to
+be married next month.”
+
+Did Nan know the hurt and the hurt and the hurt of love? No wonder that
+she was “shy” with Mrs. Towne. Why had not Mrs. Towne told her? Must she
+write and congratulate Naughty Nan whose story was such as she wished it
+to be?
+
+The letters that she had written that evening were on the bureau; the
+sudden remembering of the line that she had written in Mrs. Towne’s
+brought her to her feet with a rush of shame like the old hot flashes
+from head to foot; she seized the letter and rolling it up tucked it
+down among the coals; it blazed, burning slowly, the flame curled around
+the words that she had been saved just in time from sending; the words
+that would never be written or spoken.
+
+The room was chilly and the candle had burnt out before she went to bed;
+the lights opposite had long been out. The room was cold and dark and
+strange; outside in the darkness the night was wild.
+
+It was too late; her conflict had lasted too long; her pride and disdain
+had killed his love for her; perhaps he felt as she did in that time
+when she had wanted some one to love her, and he had taken Naughty Nan
+as she had taken Felix.
+
+She had lived it all through once; she could live it all through again;
+she could have slept, but would not for fear of the waking. Oh, if it
+would never come light, and she could lie forever shielded in darkness!
+But the light crept up higher and higher into the sky, Hilda passed the
+door, and Uncle Knox’s heavy tread was in the hall below.
+
+Another day had come, and other days would always be coming; every day
+life must be full of work and play, even although Dr. Towne had failed
+in love that was patience; she had suffered once, because he was slow to
+understand himself, and plainly he had suffered to the verge of his
+endurance, because she was slow in understanding herself!
+
+The day wore on to twilight; she had worked listlessly; in the twilight
+she laid her work aside, and went over to the cottage.
+
+“I have something to show you,” said Miss Sarepta; “guess what my last
+good gift from Philip is.”
+
+“I did not know that he had any thing left to give you.”
+
+“It is the last and best. A flower of spring!” From a thick envelope in
+her work-basket, she drew out a photograph, and, with its face upward,
+laid it in Tessa’s hand.
+
+A piquant face: daring in the eyes, sweetness on the lips.
+
+“Nan Gerard!” cried Tessa, catching her breath with a sound like a sob.
+
+“Naughty Nan! And they are to be married here in this room, that I may
+be bridesmaid.”
+
+“Oh, how stupid I was!”
+
+“Why, had you an inkling of it?”
+
+“Several of them, if I had had eyes to see!”
+
+“It came last night, and I lay awake all night, thinking of the woman
+that Philip will love henceforth better than he loves me.”
+
+“Oh, how can you bear it?” Tessa knelt on the carpet at her side, with
+her head on the arm of the chair.
+
+“I could not, at first. I could not now, if I did not love Philip better
+than I love myself.”
+
+So her sorrow had become Miss Sarepta’s! She drew a long breath, and did
+not speak.
+
+“Don’t feel so sorry for me, dear. I have known that in the nature of
+things,—which is but another name for God’s will,—this must come. Even
+after all the years, it has come suddenly. Will she love my brother?”
+
+“I am sure she will; more and more as the years go on!”
+
+“Every heart must choose for itself,” said Miss Sarepta dreamily, “and
+the choice of the Lord runs through all our choices.”
+
+Tessa’s lips gave a glad assent.
+
+A letter from Dinah that evening ended thus. “Father is not at all well;
+I think that he grows weaker every day. To-day he said, ‘Isn’t it
+_almost_ time for Tessa to come?’”
+
+At noon the next day she was in Dunellen.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.—ANOTHER MAY.
+
+
+May came with blossoms, lilacs, and a birthday, she smiled all to
+herself over last year’s reverie; the anniversary of the day in which
+she had walked homewards with Mr. Hammerton and accepted Felix in the
+evening followed the birthday; a sad anniversary for Felix, she
+remembered, for he had her habit of retrospection.
+
+The days slipped through his mind, Laura had told her; he would often
+ask the day of the week or month. He had become quiet and melancholy,
+seemingly absorbed in the interest of the moment. He had greeted Tessa
+as he would have greeted any friend, at their last interview, and she
+had left him believing that his future would not be without happiness. A
+year ago to-day, Mr. Hammerton had said that a year made a difference,
+sometimes. And this year! How the events had hurried into each other,
+jostling against each other like good-humored people in a crowd! A year
+ago to-day she had thought of Nan Gerard as the wife of Ralph Towne;
+to-day she was sailing on the sea, Professor Towne’s wife; just as
+naughty as ever, but rather more dignified. A year ago to-night she had
+held herself the promised wife of her old tormentor, Felix Harrison;
+since that night all his future had become a blank, the strong man had
+become as a little child; since that day Dine had found her wonderful
+John; since that day Dr. Lake had had his heart’s desire, and had been
+called away from Sue, leaving her a widow; the hurrying year had taken
+from Gus a long hope and had given him a future of hard work with meagre
+wages. And Dr. Towne! But she could not trust herself to think of him.
+They met as usual, not less often; he had grown graver since last year,
+and had thrown himself heart and soul into his work: never
+demonstrative, his manner towards her, had, if possible, become less and
+less intrusive; but ever responsive, having nothing to respond to, now,
+but a gentle deference, a shyness that increased; a stranger would have
+said, meeting him with Tessa Wadsworth, that he was intensely interested
+in her, but exceedingly in doubt of finding favor.
+
+But Tessa could not see this; she felt only the restraint and
+chilliness.
+
+Once they were left suddenly alone together; he excused himself and
+abruptly left her; clearly, he had no reply to make to her letter; his
+love was worn out with her freaks and whims.
+
+“I deserve it,” she said, taking stern pleasure in meting out justice to
+herself.
+
+One afternoon in late May, she found herself on the gnarled seat that
+the roots had braided for her; she had been gazing down into the brook
+and watching a robin-redbreast taking his bath in it, canary-fashion;
+she watched him until he had flown away and perched upon a post of the
+Old Place meadow fence, then her eyes came back to the water, the
+stones, and the weeds.
+
+“I always know where to find you!” The exclamation could be in no other
+loud voice; she recognized Sue before she lifted her eyes to the tall,
+black-draped figure. If Sue had had a sorrow, there was no trace of it
+in voice or countenance.
+
+“Isn’t it dusty? How I shall look trailing around in all this black
+stuff! What do you always come here for? Do you come to meet somebody?”
+
+“It seems that I have come to meet you.”
+
+“Don’t you remember how you talked to me here that day? I did keep my
+promise; I _was_ good to Gerald. Poor, dear Gerald! I have nothing to
+reproach myself with.”
+
+“Did mother send you here?”
+
+“She said that I would find you between the end of the planks and
+Mayfield. Come through the grounds of Old Place with me. I want you to
+see Mrs. Towne’s flowers and a new arbor that Dr. Towne has been putting
+up.”
+
+“No, thank you,” said Tessa rising and tossing away a handful of
+withering wild flowers.
+
+“You don’t know how lovely the place is. Dr. Towne is always thinking of
+some new thing to do; I asked him if it were for that grand wife that he
+has been waiting so long for, and, do you believe, he said ‘Yes,’ as
+sincerely as could be. He looked up at his mother and smiled when he
+said it, too. I believe they know something. Nan Gerard didn’t get him
+any way! Won’t she have a lovely time travelling! I always did want to
+go to Europe; Gerald never would have taken me. I can’t believe that
+he’s dead, can you?”
+
+As Tessa was busy with her veil and did not speak, Sue rattled on.
+
+“Did you know that I’ve been making another visit at Miss Gesner’s? They
+call their place Blossom Hill, and it has been so sweet with blossoms.”
+
+“Is she as lovely as ever?”
+
+“I don’t know,” said Sue, doubtfully; “sometimes I think that she is
+stiff and proud; the truth is she doesn’t like to have her old brother
+pay attention to me. She thinks that he is too old a boy for such
+nonsense; but _he_ doesn’t think so! Good for me that he doesn’t. What
+are you walking so fast for? I went to drive with him every day after
+business hours; we _did_ look stylish!”
+
+“With Miss Gesner, too?” queried Tessa, in a voice that she could not
+steady.
+
+“No, indeed,” laughed Sue, “and that’s the beauty of it. What did we
+want her along for? Of course we talked about Gerald; we talked a great
+deal about him. I told him how kind he had been to me and how I adored
+him and how I mourned for him. I am sure that I cried myself sick; Dr.
+Towne gave me something one night to keep me from having hysterics! I
+should have died of grief if Mrs. Towne hadn’t taken me to Old Place;
+she was like a mother, and _he_ was as kind as kind could be! It was
+like the other time before I was engaged to Gerald; I couldn’t believe
+that it wasn’t that time. The Gesners were kind, too; I thought at first
+that Miss Gesner really loved me; but she began to be stiff after she
+saw her brother kiss me. I couldn’t help it; I told him that it was too
+soon for such goings on.”
+
+“O, _Sue!_” cried Tessa, wearily. “And he loved you so.”
+
+“Gerald! Of course he did! But that’s all past and gone! He can’t expect
+me never to have any good times, can he? He didn’t leave me any money to
+have a good time with! I’m too young to shut myself up and think of his
+grave all the time. You and father are the most unreasonable people I
+ever saw! Why, he thinks because he thinks of mother every day, and
+wouldn’t be married for any thing, that I must be that kind of a
+mourner, too! It’s very hard; nobody ever had so much trouble as I do. I
+never used to like John Gesner, but you don’t know how interesting he
+can be. He took off my wedding ring one day and said it didn’t fit. It
+always was a little too large. Gerald said that I would grow into it,”
+she said, slipping it up and down on her finger and letting it drop on
+the grass.
+
+“There!” with a little laugh as she stooped to look for it, “suppose I
+could never find it. Is that what you call an omen, Tessa? Help me
+look!”
+
+“No, let it be. Let it be buried, too.”
+
+“There! I have found it. You needn’t be so cross to me. I wonder why you
+are cross to me. Gerald Raid once that you would be a good friend to me
+forever.”
+
+“I will, Susie,” said Tessa, fervently.
+
+“You always liked Gerald. What did you like him for?” asked Sue,
+curiously.
+
+As the answer was not forthcoming, Sue started off on a new branch of
+the old topic. “Mr. John Gesner is going to Europe this fall, or in the
+winter; he is going on business, but he says that if he had a wife to go
+around with him that he would stay a year or two. Wouldn’t that be
+grand? Nan Gerard will have to be home when the Seminary opens, anyway.
+It would be grand to travel for two years.”
+
+“Why does not Miss Gesner go with him?”
+
+“Oh, she wouldn’t leave Lewis. Lewis and Blossom Hill are her two idols.
+Mr. John says that if he were married, he would build a new house right
+opposite, and he asked me as we passed the grand houses which style I
+liked best. There was one with porticoes and columns, I chose that. He
+said that it could be built while he was away, and be all ready for him
+to bring his bride home to. But you are not listening; you never think
+of what I am saying,” Sue said, in a grumbling, tearful voice. “My
+friends are forever misunderstanding me. Gerald never misunderstood me.
+What do you think Dr. Towne said to me? He said that when I am old, I
+shall love Gerald better than any one; that what comes between will fall
+out and leave that time. Won’t it be queer? He said that women ought to
+think love the best thing in the world. I cried while he was talking. I
+can love any body that is kind to me. When I told John Gesner that, he
+said, ‘I will always be kind to you.’ But you are not listening; I
+verily believe that you care more for that squirrel than you do for me!”
+
+“See it run,” cried Tessa. “Isn’t it a perfect little creature? If you
+will come and stay a week with me, we will take a walk every day.”
+
+“I can’t—now,” Sue stumbled over her words. “Say, Tessa, Mr. Gesner has
+given me a set of pearls. I can wear pearls in mourning, can’t I?”
+
+“With your mourning, you can wear any thing.”
+
+“Can I? I didn’t know it. It’s awful lonesome at home; lonesomer than it
+ever was.”
+
+“I would come and stay a week with you, but I do not like to leave
+father; he is not so strong as he was last summer.”
+
+“You wouldn’t let Mr. Gesner come and spend the evening; I haven’t asked
+him, but I’m going to ask him the next time I see him.”
+
+Dr. Greyson called for Sue late in the evening. “I have the comfort of
+my old age hard and fast,” he said; “she will never want to run away
+from me again, will you, Susie?”
+
+“I don’t know,” said Sue, with a hard, uncomfortable laugh; “you must
+keep a sharp lookout. I may be in Africa by this time next year.”
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.—SUNSET.
+
+
+“Father is very feeble,” said Mrs. Wadsworth one day in June. “I shall
+persuade him to take a vacation. Lewis Gesner told him yesterday that he
+must take a rest; do you notice how he spends all his evenings on the
+sofa? I think that if Gus would come and play chess as he used to that
+it would rouse him.”
+
+The week of Mr. Wadsworth’s vacation ran into two weeks and into a
+month; Dr. Greyson fell into a friendly habit of calling daily; Mr.
+Lewis Gesner and Mr. Hammerton came for a chat with him on the piazza as
+often as every other day, sometimes one of them would pass the evening
+beside his lounge in the sitting-room. Mr. Hammerton amused him by talk
+of people and books with a half hour of politics thrown in; and Mr.
+Gesner with his genial voice and genial manner helped them all to
+believe that life had its warm corners, and that an evening all
+together, with the feeble old man on the lounge an interested listener,
+was certainly one of the cosiest.
+
+“Father, why have you kept Mr. Gesner to yourself all these years?”
+Tessa asked after one of these evenings.
+
+“I would have brought him home before, if I had known that you would
+have found him so charming.”
+
+“He is my ideal of the shadow of a rock in a weary land,” she answered;
+“I do not wonder that his sister’s heart is bound up in him. How can
+brothers who live together be so different?”
+
+“John is well enough,” said her father, “there’s nothing wrong about
+him.”
+
+“He makes me _creep_,” said Tessa, vehemently, thinking of a pair of
+bracelets that Sue had brought to show her that day.
+
+Mr. Wadsworth lay silent for awhile, then opening his eyes gazed long at
+the figures and faces that were all his world; Mrs. Wadsworth’s chair
+was at the foot of the lounge, the light from the lamp on the table fell
+on her busy hands, leaving her face in shadow; Dinah was reading at the
+table, with one hand pushed in among her curls; Tessa had dipped her pen
+into the ink and was carelessly holding it between thumb and finger
+before writing the last page of her three sheets to Miss Sarepta.
+
+“Oh my three girls!” he murmured so low that no one heard.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth, in these days, was forgetting to be sharp, and hovered
+over him and lingered around him as lovingly as ever Tessa did.
+
+“Doctor,” said Tessa, standing on the piazza with Dr. Greyson late one
+evening, “do you think that he may die suddenly?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Any time, when the pain comes?”
+
+“Any hour when the pain comes.”
+
+“Does mother know?”
+
+“I think that she half suspects; she has asked me, and I have evaded the
+question.”
+
+“Does he know it?”
+
+“He has known it since March.”
+
+Since he had wanted her to come home!
+
+“Perhaps he has told mother.”
+
+“She would only excite him and hasten the end.”
+
+“She can be quiet enough when she chooses. I am glad—oh, I am so glad—”
+
+“Is the doctor gone?” cried Dinah rushing out, “father wants him. He has
+the pain dreadfully.”
+
+The paroxysm was severe, but it passed away; Dr. Greyson decided to
+remain through the night; he fell asleep in the sitting-room and was
+awakened by Tessa’s hand an hour before dawn.
+
+“Thank you, dear,” said Mr. Wadsworth to his wife as she laid an extra
+quilt across his feet.
+
+They were his last words. Tessa always liked to think of them.
+
+July, August, and September dragged themselves through sunny days and
+rainy days into October. Tessa had learned that she could live without
+her father. There was little outward change in their home, the three
+were busy about their usual work and usual recreations; friends came and
+went; Tessa wrote and walked; gave two afternoons each week to Mrs.
+Towne, sometimes in Dunellen and sometimes at Old Place; ran in, as of
+old, for a helpful talk with Miss Jewett, not forgetting that she must
+be, what Dr. Lake had said,—a good friend to his wife. These were the
+busy hours; in the still hours,—but who can know for another the still
+hours?
+
+Mr. Hammerton and Mr. Lewis Gesner proved themselves to be invaluable
+friends; Tessa’s warm regard for Mr. Gesner, even with the shock that
+came to her afterward, never became less; he ever remained her ideal of
+the rock in the weary land.
+
+Two weeks after her father’s funeral, she had stood alone one evening
+towards dusk among her flowers: she had been gathering pansies and
+thinking that her father had always liked them and talked about them.
+
+There was a sound of wheels on the grass and a carriage stood at the
+opening in the shrubbery; the face into which she looked this time was
+not worn, or thin, or excited; a dark face, with grave, sympathetic
+eyes, was bending towards her.
+
+“I wish that I could help you,” he said.
+
+“I know you do. No one can help me. I do not need help. I _am_ helped.”
+
+“The air is sweet to-night.”
+
+“And so still! Do you like my pansies?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Will you take them to your mother, and tell her that I will come
+to-morrow.”
+
+“I will tell her; but I will keep the pansies for myself, if you will
+give them to me.”
+
+She laid them in his hand with fingers that trembled.
+
+“Do they say something to me?”
+
+“They say a great deal to me!”
+
+“What do they say?”
+
+“I can not find a meaning for you. They must be their own interpreter.”
+
+“But I may think that you gave them to me to keep as long as I live.”
+
+“Yes; to keep as long as you live.”
+
+“When you have something to say to me—something that you know I am
+waiting to hear—will you say it, freely, of your own accord.”
+
+“Yes, freely, of my own accord.”
+
+“I regret to trouble you; but if you ever waited, you know that it is
+the hardest of hard work.”
+
+“I know,” said Tessa, her voice breaking; “but you may not like what I
+say.”
+
+“Perhaps you will say what I like then.”
+
+“I will if I _can_.”
+
+What had she to say, freely, of her own accord? I think that it was the
+knowledge of what she would say by and by when she was fully sure that
+helped her to bear the loneliness of this summer and autumn.
+
+And thus passed the summer that she had planned for rest. November found
+her making plans for winter. Her last winter’s work had been sent to
+her, one volume with its new illustrations, and the other, with but one
+new picture; her father had looked forward to them; she sent copies to
+Elsie, Mabel, and Sue, also to Felix Harrison and Mr. Hammerton; Miss
+Jewett and Mrs. Towne made pretty and loving speeches over theirs; Tessa
+wondered, why, when she had written them with all her heart, they should
+seem so little to her now.
+
+“Where is your novel, Lady Blue,” Mr. Hammerton, asked one evening.
+
+“I think that I shall live it first,” she answered, seriously. “I
+couldn’t love my ideal well enough to put him into a book, and the
+_real_ hero would only be lovable and commonplace, and no one would care
+to read about him—no one would care for him but me.”
+
+“It must be something of an experience to learn that one’s ideal can not
+be loved, and rather humiliating to find one’s self in love with some
+one below one’s standard.”
+
+“That’s what life is for,—to have an experience, isn’t it?”
+
+“It seems to be some people’s experience,” he said, looking as wise as
+an owl, and as unsympathetic.
+
+November found Sue making plans, also. Her plans came out in this wise:
+she called one morning to talk to Tessa; Tessa was sewing in her own
+chamber, and Sue ran up lightly, as lightly as in the days before Gerald
+Lake had come to Dunellen.
+
+“Busy!” she said blithely, her flowing crape veil fluttering at the
+door.
+
+“Not too busy. Come in.”
+
+Sue talked for an hour with her gloves on, then, carelessly, as she
+described some pretty thing that the Professor’s wife had brought from
+over the sea, she drew the glove from her left hand, watching Tessa’s
+face. The quick color—the quick, indignant color—repaid the manœuvre;
+the wedding ring—the new wedding ring—was gone, and in its stead blazed
+a cluster of diamonds.
+
+“You might as well say something,” began Sue, moving her hand in the
+sunlight.
+
+“I have nothing to say. I wonder how you dare come to me.”
+
+“Why shouldn’t I dare? I know it seems soon; but circumstances make a
+difference, and Mr. Gesner has to go to Europe next month. He took the
+other ring; I couldn’t help it—I wouldn’t have kept it safe with a lock
+of his hair in a little box—but he said that I shouldn’t have this
+unless I gave him that.”
+
+Tessa’s head went down over her work; she had not wept aloud before
+since she was a little girl, but now the sobs burst through her lips
+uncontrolled. That ring that Dr. Lake had carried that day in the rain
+not fourteen months ago!
+
+Sue sprang to her feet, then dropped back into her chair and wept in
+sympathy, partly with a vague feeling of having done some dreadful
+thing, partly with the fear that life in a foreign land might not be
+wholly alluring; Mr. Gesner was kind, but poor Gerald had loved her so!
+
+“O, Tessa! Tessa! don’t,” she cried. “Stop crying and speak to me.”
+
+“Go away from me. Go home. I will not speak to you.”
+
+For a moment Sue waited, then she arose and moved towards the door,
+standing another moment, but as Tessa did not turn or speak, she went
+down-stairs, not lightly, hushed by the revelation of a grief that she
+could not understand.
+
+[Illustration: “Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another
+day,” said Sue.]
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.—HEARTS ALIKE.
+
+
+Early in December, in a snow-storm, Sue Lake was married to John Gesner.
+
+“Some things are incomprehensible,” declared Mrs. Wadsworth,
+plaintively, looking at the snow, “to think that she should marry an old
+beau of mine. So soon, too. How a widow can ever think—”
+
+Tessa refused to see her married until the last moment. “You must be a
+good friend to me through thick and thin,” Sue coaxed, and Tessa went
+the evening before; but the evening was long and silent, for Tessa could
+not talk or admire Sue’s outfit. The pretty brown and crimson chairs
+were again wheeled before the back parlor grate; but when Sue went out
+to attend for the last time to her father’s lunch, there was no
+hilarious entrance, and Tessa’s tears dropped because they would not be
+restrained.
+
+Sue’s talk and laughter sounded through the hall; but Tessa could hear
+only “Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another day.”
+
+“Kiss me and say you are glad,” prayed Sue, when they went up to Sue’s
+chamber to exchange white silk and orange blossoms for travelling
+attire. “It’s horrid for you to look like a funeral. Mrs. Towne looks
+glum, and Miss Gesner had to cry!”
+
+The snow-flakes were falling and melting, as they were falling and
+melting the day that Sue sang for Dr. Lake; there was a fire in the
+air-tight to-day, and by some chance the low rocker had been pushed
+close to the side of the white-draped bed. Sue seated herself in it to
+draw on her gloves and for a last hurried, hysteric flow of words.
+
+“I’ll write to you from Liverpool, Tessa. I hope that we sha’n’t have
+any storms; I might think that it was a judgment. I don’t want to be
+drowned; I want to see London and Paris and Rome. Isn’t it queer for me
+to be married twice before you are married once!”
+
+“You may be married three times before I am married once,” said Tessa,
+opening a bureau drawer to lay away an old glove box.
+
+“Oh, no, I sha’n’t! I’ll stay a rich widow, but it was distressed to
+stay a poor one. Did I tell you that Stacey is married? I was so
+delighted. He’s got a good wife, too; real sober and settled down. So I
+didn’t do so much harm after all your fuming and fussing. I like to make
+people comfortable when I can. And now we’re happy all around just like
+a book. I wonder what will become of you before I get back. I expect
+that Dine will be married. John is as tickled as he can be! It’s lovely
+to be an old man’s darling; I am to have my own way about every thing.
+I’m glad that he wasn’t a widower; I hate widowers!”
+
+A tap at the door summoned Sue. “Good-by, dear old room!” she cried
+gayly. “You’ve seen the last of me. I hope that you will get every thing
+you are waiting for, Tessa.”
+
+As once before on Sue’s wedding day, Tessa was taken home in Dr. Towne’s
+carriage.
+
+“I wonder if he knows,” she said.
+
+“If he do it can not trouble him. He understood her.”
+
+“I am beginning to understand what the hurt of love is.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Don’t you know?”
+
+“I think that you are teaching me.”
+
+“It is a lesson that we have learned together. I used to wonder why God
+ever let us hurt each other; perhaps that is the reason, that we may
+learn together what love is!”
+
+“Do not the students ever come to the end of the chapter and learn the
+next lesson?”
+
+“I do not know what the next chapter is.”
+
+“Perhaps if we study hard we may learn that together.”
+
+“Great patience is needed to learn a lesson with me.”
+
+“I have a great deal of patience.”
+
+“I’m afraid that I haven’t.”
+
+“Having confessed our sins, suppose that we forget them.”
+
+“I can’t forget mine.”
+
+“Can you forget mine?”
+
+She tried to speak, but the words stumbled on her lips.
+
+“Look up and answer me.”
+
+She could not look up; she could not answer.
+
+“Tessa, say something.”
+
+“Something,” she said childishly between laughter and tears.
+
+After a moment, during which her glove had been unbuttoned and
+rebuttoned and he had leaned back, holding the reins loosely, she spoke:
+
+“You _have_ been patient with me. I will not have any more whims or
+fancies—I know now beyond any need of reasoning—”
+
+“What do you know?”
+
+“Something very happy.”
+
+“And now shall we be as happy as Sue and her rich old lover?”
+
+“Do you see this ring?” touching the emerald. “It means that I must tell
+your mother that I am satisfied, fully and entirely and thoroughly,
+before I say ‘Yes.’”
+
+“_Can_ you tell her that?”
+
+“Ask her and she will tell you.”
+
+“Tessa, it has been a weary time.”
+
+“I think that there must always be a weary time before two people
+understand each other; I am so glad to have ours come before—”
+
+The sun set behind clouds on Sue’s second wedding day. Tessa tried to
+write, she tried to read, she tried to sew, she tried to talk to her
+mother and Dine; but failed in every thing but sitting idle at one of
+the parlor windows and looking out at the snow. There was a long evening
+in the shabby parlor; quiet talk, laughing talk, and merry talk mingled
+with half sentences, as many things both old and new were talked about.
+
+There were several happenings after this; one of them, of course, was
+Dinah’s marriage to her wonderful John; Tessa’s wedding gift to her was
+a deed of the house in which they had both been born. Another happening,
+perhaps, as much in the nature of things as Dinah’s marriage, although
+the girls could not bring themselves to think so, was their mother’s
+marriage to Mr. Lewis Gesner. Tessa remembered her promise to her
+father; she spoke no word against it, and by repeated chidings kept
+Dinah’s words and behavior within the limits of deference.
+
+Pretty little Mrs. Wadsworth was a radiant bride, and the bridegroom was
+all that could be desired; Mrs. Wadsworth prudently concealed her
+elation at having married a man richer than Tessa’s husband and with a
+residence far handsomer. Mr. Lewis Gesner became the kindest of husbands
+and Miss Gesner was a model sister-in-law.
+
+On her own wedding day, one of Tessa’s grateful thoughts was that her
+father would rejoice to know that his “three girls” were in happy homes.
+Miss Jewett’s congratulation was a dower in itself: “Your fate was worth
+waiting for, Tessa.”
+
+“Another poor man undone through you, Lady Blue,” said Mr. Hammerton. “I
+might have known that you were growing up to do it.”
+
+“Is Tessa married?” Felix asked in his slow way. “I hope that he will
+take good care of her.”
+
+Another happening was the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. John Gesner and son.
+The baby had been born in Germany and could call his own name before he
+came home to Blossom Hill.
+
+The name was a surprise to Tessa: “Theodore, because it has such a
+pretty meaning,” Sue told her. “His father wanted John or Lewis, but I
+insisted; I said that I would throw the baby away if I couldn’t name
+him!”
+
+She petted him and was proud of his rosy face and bright eyes, but
+confided to Tessa that he was a great deal of trouble, and that she
+hated that everlasting “mamma, mamma.”
+
+“I don’t understand _you_, Tessa, you treat your little girl as if she
+were a princess.”
+
+That afternoon Tessa and the baby were alone on one of the balconies at
+Old Place; baby in her betucked and beruffled white frock and white
+shoes was taking her first steps alone, and baby’s mother was kneeling
+before her with both arms out-stretched to receive her after the
+triumph.
+
+Baby’s father stood in a window watching them; but for the eyes that,
+just now, were like the woods in October his face would have been
+pronounced grave; the white threads in his hair were beginning to be
+noticeable, and before baby would be old enough to drive all around the
+country with him, his hair would be quite white.
+
+“An earnest man with a purpose in his life,” Dunellen said.
+
+“Must you go out again so soon?”
+
+Baby was crowing over her success, and the mother’s arms were holding
+her close.
+
+“There’s a poor woman with a little baby that I must see to-night.”
+
+“A girl-baby?”
+
+“Yes,” smiling down at her, “a girl-baby.”
+
+“Poor little girl-baby! _Poor_ little girl-baby!” she said, pressing her
+lips to baby’s hair.
+
+“What were you thinking when the baby ran into your arms just now?”
+
+“I was thinking,” holding the beruffled little figure closer, “that it
+isn’t such a hard world, after all, for little girls to grow up in.”
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline, by
+Jennie M. Drinkwater
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+ <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
+ <meta content="Tessa Wadsworth’s Discipline." name="DC.Title"/>
+ <meta content="Jennie M. Drinkwater" name="DC.Creator"/>
+ <meta content="en" name="DC.Language"/>
+ <meta content="1879" name="DC.Created"/>
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+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline, by Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+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: Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline
+ A Story of the Development of a Young Girl's Life
+
+Author: Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+Release Date: August 7, 2011 [EBook #37003]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TESSA WADSWORTH'S DISCIPLINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Katherine Ward, Roger Frank and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i001' id='i001'></a>
+<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' title=''/><br />
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i002' id='i002'></a>
+<img src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" alt="Nan drew Tessa’s cheek down to her lips. (Page 329)" title=""/><br />
+<span class='caption'>Nan drew Tessa’s cheek down to her lips. (<i>Page 329</i>)</span>
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>Tessa Wadsworth’s</span></p>
+<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>Discipline</span></p>
+<p>&#160;</p>
+<p>A Story of the Development of a Young Girl’s Life</p>
+<p>&#160;</p>
+<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>By Jennie M. Drinkwater</span></p>
+<p>&#160;</p>
+<p>Author of “Growing Up,” “Bek’s First Corner,”</p>
+<p>“Miss Prudence,” etc., etc.</p>
+<p>&#160;</p>
+<p>“The people that stood below</p>
+<p>She knew but little about;</p>
+<p>And this story’s a moral, I know,</p>
+<p>If you’ll try to find it out.”</p>
+<p>&#160;</p>
+<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>A. L. Burt Company, Publishers</span></p>
+<p>New York</p>
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>Copyright 1879,</span></p>
+<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'><span class='sc'>By Robert Carter &amp; Brothers.</span></span></p>
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p>Dedication.</p>
+<p>&#160;</p>
+<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>TO</span></p>
+<p><span style='font-size:smaller;'>MY FRIEND</span></p>
+<p><span class='sc'>Mary V. Childs.</span></p>
+</div>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<div class='center'>
+<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>CONTENTS</span></p>
+</div>
+<table class='c' summary='table of contents'>
+<tr><td style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</td><td></td><td style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>1.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hearts that Seemed to Differ</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch1'>9</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>2.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Silent Side</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch2'>20</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>3.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Last Night of the Old Year</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch3'>31</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>4.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Somebody New</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch4'>55</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>5.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hearts that were Waiting</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch5'>65</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>6.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Another Opportunity</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch6'>81</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>7.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Long Day</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch7'>90</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>8.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Note out of Tune</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch8'>101</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>9.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The New Morning</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch9'>140</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>10.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Forgetting the Bread</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch10'>156</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>11.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>On the Highway</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch11'>162</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>12.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Good Enough to be True</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch12'>178</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>13.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Heart of Love</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch13'>188</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>14.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Wheat, not Bread</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch14'>211</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>15.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>September</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch15'>217</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>16.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Tangle</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch16'>244</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>17.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Night Before</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch17'>258</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>18.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Moods</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch18'>280</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>19.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Old Story</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch19'>293</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>20.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Several Things</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch20'>305</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>21.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Through</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch21'>330</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>22.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Several Other Things</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch22'>338</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>23.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>What She Meant</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch23'>362</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>24.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Shut in</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch24'>367</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>25.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Blue Myrtle</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch25'>377</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>26.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Another May</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch26'>390</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>27.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Sunset</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch27'>397</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>28.</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hearts Alike</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#ch28'>405</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+<p>
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+&#160;<br />
+</p>
+<h1>TESSA WADSWORTH’S DISCIPLINE.</h1>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span><a name='ch1' id='ch1'></a>I.—HEARTS THAT SEEMED TO DIFFER.</h2>
+<p>
+She was standing one afternoon on the broad piazza,
+leaning against the railing, with color enough
+in her usually colorless cheeks as she watched the
+tall figure passing through the low gateway; he
+turned towards the watching eyes, smiled, and
+touched his hat.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will be in again this week,” she said coaxingly,
+“you can give me ten minutes out of your
+busy-ness.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Twice ten, perhaps.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The light that flashed into her eyes was her
+only reply; she stood leaning forward, playing
+with the oleander blossoms under her hand until
+he had seated himself in his carriage and driven
+away; not until the brown head and straw hat
+had disappeared behind the clump of willows at
+the corner did she stir or move her eyes, then the
+happy feet in the bronze slippers tripped up-stairs
+to her own chamber. Dinah had left her slate on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span>
+a chair, and dropped her algebra on the carpet, at
+the sound of Norah’s voice below the window.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was glad to be alone; she was always
+glad to be alone after Ralph Towne had left her, to
+think over all that he had said, and to feel again
+the warm shining of his brown eyes; to thank God
+with a few, low, joyful exclamations that He had
+brought this friend into her life; and then, as foolish
+women will, she must look into her own face
+and try to see it as he saw it,—cheeks aglow, tremulous
+lips, and such a light in the blue eyes!
+</p>
+<p>
+She did not know that her eyes could look like
+that. She had thought them pale, cold, meaningless,
+and now they were like no eyes that she had
+ever looked into; a dancing, tender, blue delight.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had he read her secret in them?
+</p>
+<p>
+Her enthusiasm with its newness, sweetness, and
+freshness,—for it was as fresh as her heart was
+pure,—was moulding all her thoughts, strengthening
+her desire to become in all things true and
+womanly, and making her as blithe all day long
+as the birds that twittered in the apple-tree near
+her chamber window.
+</p>
+<p>
+It mattered not how her hands were busied so
+long as her heart could be full of him. And he,
+Ralph Towne, blind and obtuse as any man would
+be who lived among books and not in the world at
+all, and more than a trifle selfish, as men sometimes
+find themselves to be, little thinking of the
+effect of his chance visits and fitful attentions,
+had in the last two months come to a knowledge
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span>
+that grieved him; for he was an honorable man, he
+loved God and reverenced womankind. He had
+not time now to think of any thing but the book
+for which he was collecting material. It was something
+in the natural history line, he had once told
+her, but he never cared to speak of it; indeed Ralph
+Towne cared to talk but of few things; but she
+loved to talk and he loved to listen. He loved to
+listen to her, but he did not love her (so he assured
+himself), he only loved her presence, as he loved
+the sunshine, and he did not love the sunshine
+well enough to fret when the day was gloomy; in
+these days he did not love any body or any thing
+but himself, his books, and his mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dunellen said that he was proud of his money
+and proud of a great-great-grandmother who had
+been cousin to one of the president’s wives; but
+Tessa knew that he was not proud of any thing
+but his beautiful white-haired mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not understanding the signs of love, how could
+he know that Tessa Wadsworth was growing to
+love <em>him</em>; he had never thought of himself as particularly
+worth loving. Surely she knew a dozen
+men who were handsomer (if that were what she
+cared for), and another dozen who could talk and
+tell stories and say pretty things to women (if <em>that</em>
+were what attracted her); still he knew to-day that
+his presence and light talk (he did not remember
+that he had said any thing to be treasured) had
+moved her beyond her wont. She was usually
+only self-contained and dignified; but to-day there
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span>
+must have been some adequate cause for her changing
+color, for the lighting and deepening of her
+eyes as they met his so frankly; he was sure to-day
+of what he had only surmised before,—that
+this sensitive, high-spirited, pure-hearted woman
+loved him as it had never entered his preoccupied
+mind or selfish heart to love her or indeed any
+human being.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been a fool!” he ejaculated. “Well, it is
+done, and, with a woman like her, it can not be undone!
+Miserable bungler that I am, I have been
+trying to make matters better, and I have made
+them a thousand times worse! Why did I promise
+to call again this week? Why did I give her a
+right to ask me? I wish that I had <em>never</em> seen
+her! God knows,”—she would never have forgotten
+his eyes could she have seen them at this instant,
+penitent and self-reproachful,—“that I did
+not <em>mean</em> to trifle with her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile, resting in Dinah’s chair, with the
+algebra and slate at her feet, she was thinking
+over and over the words he had spoken that afternoon;
+very few they were, but simple and sincere;
+at least so they sounded to her. She smiled as
+“I <em>do</em> care very much” repeated itself to her, with
+the tone and the raising of the eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Very much!” as much as she did? It was
+about a trifle, some little thing that she had put
+into rhyme for him; how many rhymes she had
+written for him this summer! He so often said,
+“Write this up for me,” and she had so intensely
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span>
+enjoyed the doing it, and so intensely enjoyed his
+appreciation—his over-appreciation, she always
+thought.
+</p>
+<p>
+O, Tessa, Tessa, pick up that algebra, and go
+to work with it. Life’s problems are too complex
+for your unworldliness.
+</p>
+<p>
+She stooped to pick up Dinah’s slate, and, instead
+of finishing the work upon it, she wrote out
+rapidly a thought that had tinged her cheeks while
+Ralph Towne had been with her. <em>The silent side</em>
+she called it. Was it the silent side? If it were,
+how was it that he understood? She <em>knew</em> that
+he understood; she knew that he had understood
+when he answered, “Twice ten, perhaps.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her mother’s voice below broke in upon her reverie;
+fancy, sentiment, or delicate feeling of any
+kind died a hard and sudden death under Mrs.
+Wadsworth’s influence, yet she read more novels
+than did either of her daughters, and would cry
+her lovely eyes red and swollen over a story that
+Tessa would not deign to skip through. It was
+one of her mother’s plaints that Tessa had no
+feeling.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ralph Towne did not give the promised “twice
+ten” minutes that week, nor for weeks afterward;
+she met him several times driving with his mother,
+or with his mother and Sue Greyson: her glad,
+quick look of recognition was acknowledged by a
+lifting of the hat and a “good afternoon, Miss Tessa.”
+Once she met him alone with Sue Greyson.
+Sue’s saucy, self-congratulatory toss of the head
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span>
+stung her so that she could have cried out. “I
+am ashamed”—no, I am not ashamed to tell you
+that she cried herself to sleep that night, as she
+asked God to bless Ralph Towne and make him
+happy and good. She could not have loved Ralph
+Towne if she might not have prayed for him. Her
+mother would have been inexpressibly shocked at
+such a mixture of “love and religion.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How long have you loved Christ?” asked the
+minister, when Tessa was “examined” for admission
+to the church.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ever since I have known Him,” was the timid
+reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Ralph Towne, in these miserable days, for
+he <em>was</em> miserable, as miserable in his fashion as she
+was in hers, was blaming her and excusing himself.
+What <em>had</em> he ever said to her? Was every
+one of a man’s words to be counted? There was
+Sue Greyson, why didn’t she turn sentimental about
+him? True, he had said one day when they were
+talking about friendship—what had he said that
+day? Was she remembering that? If she had
+studied his words—but of course, she had forgotten!
+What had possessed him to say such things?
+But how could he look at her and not feel impelled
+to say something warm? It could not be his fault;
+it must be hers, for leading him on and for remembering
+every trivial word. And of that she was
+equally sure, for how could he do any man or any
+woman wrong, this sincere and honorable Christian
+gentleman?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+In her imagination there was no one in a book
+or out of a book like Ralph Towne. Gus Hammerton
+was a scholar and a gentleman, but she had
+known him all her life; Felix Harrison was gracious
+and good, but he was not like Ralph Towne.
+Ralph Towne was not her ideal, he was something
+infinitely better than she could think; how beautiful
+it was to find some one nobler and grander than
+her ideal! Far away in some wonderful, unknown
+region he had grown up and had been made ready
+for her, and now he had come to meet her; bewildered
+and grateful, she had loved him and believed
+in him—almost as if that unknown region
+were heaven.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was her wildest dream come true; that is,
+it had come true, until lately. Some strange thing
+was happening; it was happening and almost breaking
+her heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, you look horrid nowadays,” exclaimed
+Dinah, one afternoon, as Tessa came up on the
+piazza, returning from her usual walk. “You are
+white, and purple, and all colors, and you never
+sing about the house or talk to me or to any body.
+You actually ran away while Mrs. Bird was over
+here yesterday, and you don’t even go to see Miss
+Jewett! She asked me yesterday if you had gone
+away. When Laura was talking to you yesterday,
+you looked as if you did not hear one word she
+said.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was listening.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you used to have such fun talking to Gus;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span>
+I believe that you went up-stairs while he was here
+last night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I had a headache; I excused myself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You always go down the road. Why don’t you
+go through Dunellen?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I want to get into the country; I never walk
+through a street simply for the pleasure of it. I
+like to be alone.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you ever walk as far as Old Place?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That isn’t far, only three miles; sometimes I
+go to Mayfield, that is a mile beyond Old Place.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t Old Place splendid? Next to Mr. Gesner’s
+it is the handsomest place around.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is more home-like than Mr. Gesner’s.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue likes Mr. Gesner’s better. I told her that I
+would take Old Place and she could have Mr. Gesner’s.
+Mr. Gesner’s is stone; Old Place is all wood.
+Do you ever see any of the Townes?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There are not many to be seen.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Counting Sue, there are three. Sue thinks that
+she is stylish, driving around with Mrs. Towne.
+She stayed a week with Miss Gesner once, too.
+Why don’t you and I get invited around to such
+places? Mrs. Towne ought to invite you. Mr.
+Towne used to come here often enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Used to come!” Tessa shivered standing in
+the sunlight. “Yes, it was ‘used to come,’” she
+was thinking. “I have been dreaming, now I am
+awake. I wish that I had died while I was dreaming.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now you look pale again! I guess you are growing up,”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span>
+laughed unconscious Dinah; “it’s hateful
+and horrid to grow up; I never shall. Remember
+that I am always to be fifteen.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that you never will grow up,” said Tessa,
+earnestly, “every thing is just as bad as you can
+dream.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Towne has given Sue coral ear-rings,” Dinah
+ran on. Tessa had gone down to her flower-bed to
+pull a few weeds that had pushed themselves in
+among her pansies. “He gave his mother several
+groups in stone for the dining-room; they are all
+funny, Sue says. In one, some children are playing
+doctor; in another, they are playing school. He
+gave his cousin a silk dress, and he bought himself
+a set of books for his birthday; he was thirty-two.
+Did you think he was so old?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I say, Tessa, Sue thinks that she is going to
+marry him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Does she?” The voice was away down in the
+flowers.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are always among those flowers. Don’t you
+wish that we had a conservatory? They have a
+grand one at Old Place. I wonder why they have
+so little company.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mrs. Towne is feeble; she likes a quiet house.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, Sue says that. But Grace Geer, his cousin,
+is there! Mrs. Towne is to give Old Place and all
+its treasures to Mr. Towne upon his wedding-day;
+she wants a daughter more than any thing, Sue
+says. I wish she would take me. Sue thinks that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span>
+she will take <em>her</em>. Every other word that she speaks
+is ‘Mr. Ralph.’ She talks about him everywhere.
+Do <em>you</em> believe it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Believe what?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa had returned to the piazza with a bunch
+of pansies.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Believe that she will marry him! She has real
+pretty manners when she is with them, and really
+tries not to talk slang. But I don’t believe it. He
+treats her as he would treat any one else; I have
+seen them together.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps she will. People say so,” said Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor motherless, sisterless Sue! Was she making
+a disappointment for herself out of nothing?
+Or was it out of a something like hers?
+</p>
+<p>
+It was certainly true that Sue Greyson had taken
+a summer tour with Mrs. Towne and Mr. Ralph
+Towne, and that she had spent more of her time
+during the last year at Old Place than in her own
+small, unlovely home. She loved her father “well
+enough,” she would have told you; but after the
+months at Old Place, she found the cottage in Dunellen
+a stale and prosaic affair; her father had old
+Aunt Jane to keep house for him, why did he need
+her? He would have to do without her some day.
+Doctor Lake was great fun, why could he not be
+interested in him?
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is a stranger, not my only daughter,” her
+father had once replied.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your father will be glad enough and proud
+enough that he let you come to Old Place,” comforted
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span>
+Grace Geer, when Sue told her that he missed
+her at home. “Ralph Towne’s wife will be a happy
+woman for more reasons than one; and he is interested
+in you, as one can see at a glance. He told
+his mother to-day that he should always be glad
+that they had come to Old Place.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span><a name='ch2' id='ch2'></a>II.—THE SILENT SIDE.</h2>
+<p>
+It was nearly six weeks after the day that she
+had watched him as far as the clump of willows
+that he came again. Sue Greyson had driven him
+into Dunellen that morning and had stopped at the
+gate on her return to tell her about her “grand
+splendid, delightful times” at Old Place.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Cousin Grace has gone away; how we miss her
+music! Mr. Ralph did not care for it, but Mrs.
+Towne and I cared. Mrs. Towne says that I ought
+to have a music teacher; but I never did practice
+when I had one. I can’t apply my mind to any
+thing; Mr. Ralph says that I learn by observation.
+I wonder why wise men choose silly wives always,”
+she added consciously, playing with the reins.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do they?” asked Tessa, picking a lilac leaf from
+the shrubbery.
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i003' id='i003'></a>
+<img src="images/illus-020.jpg" alt="“Is not this what we usually call the Indian summer?” said Tessa, as she extended her hand." title=""/><br />
+<span class='caption'>“Is not this what we usually call the Indian summer?”<br/>said Tessa, as she extended her hand.</span>
+</div>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span></div>
+<p>
+“Cousin Grace says so. I wish I knew what ails
+Mr. Ralph. His mother says that he is having a
+worry; she always knows when he is having a worry
+by his eyes; they do look very melancholy, and last
+night I overheard him say to Mrs. Towne, ‘A man
+has to keep his eyes pretty wide open not to step
+on peoples’ toes.’ I didn’t think much of that, but
+he said afterward, ‘A man may do in an hour what
+he can’t <em>undo</em> in a lifetime.’ He never talks much,
+so I know that something is on his mind, or he would
+not have talked so long. She said that he must be
+patient and do right.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, Sue, you did not listen!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course not. They were in the library, and
+I was on the balcony outside the window. I heard
+his voice—he was walking up and down, and, I
+confess, I <em>did</em> want to know what it was all about!
+I thought that it might be about me, you know.
+But I can’t stay here all day; Mrs. Towne is to take
+me to spend the day with the Gesners. It is splendid
+there. Mr. John Gesner I don’t like, but Mr.
+Lewis Gesner treats me so respectfully and talks
+to me as if he liked to hear me talk. And Miss
+Gesner is loveliness personified! Mr. Towne said
+that he had a call to make this afternoon, and
+would walk home. He will be up in the four
+o’clock train.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A call to make!”
+</p>
+<p>
+The words were in her ears all day; she dressed
+for her walk, then concluded to stay at home.
+How could he undo what he had so thoughtlessly,
+so mercilessly, done? Would he come and talk to
+her as he had talked to his mother? Would he
+say, “I am sorry that you have misinterpreted
+my words?” Misinterpreted! Did they not both
+speak English? Sincere, straightforward, frank
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span>
+English? It was the only language that she
+knew. In what tongue had he spoken to her?
+</p>
+<p>
+Her fluttering reverie was brought to a sudden
+and giddy end; the sound of a firm tread on the
+dried leaves under the maple-trees outside the
+gate, a tall figure in plain, elegant black,—the
+startled color in her eyes told the rest; she sprang
+to her feet, dropped her long, white work, shook
+off all outward nervousness, brushed her hair,
+fastened a bow of blue ribbon down low on her
+braids, questioned her eyes and lips to ascertain if
+they were <em>safe</em>, and then passed down the stair-way
+with a light, sure tread, and stood on the
+piazza to welcome Ralph Towne; her own composed,
+womanly self, rather more self-repressed
+than usual, and with a slight stateliness that she
+had never assumed with him. But he only noted
+that she appeared well and radiant; he understood
+her no more—than he understood several other
+things. Ralph Towne had been called “slow”
+from his babyhood.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is not this what we usually call the Indian
+summer? We have not had frost yet, I think,”
+she said easily.
+</p>
+<p>
+His dark face crimsoned, he answered briefly,
+and dropped her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+If he had ever prided himself upon his tact, he
+was aware that to-day it would be a most miserable
+failure. How could he say, “You have misunderstood
+me,” when perhaps it was he who had
+misunderstood her? He had come to her to-day
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span>
+by sheer force of will, not daring to stay away
+longer—and what had he come for? To assure her—perhaps
+he did not intend to assure her any
+thing; perhaps it was not necessary to assure her
+any thing. Not very long ago he <em>had</em> assured
+her that he could become to her her “ideal of a
+friend,” if she would “show” him how. Poor Tessa!
+This showing him how was weary work.
+“Yes,” he replied, wheeling a chair nearer the
+open window, “the country is beautiful.”
+</p>
+<p>
+That look about her flexible lips was telling its
+own story; she was just the woman, he reasoned,
+to break her heart about such a fellow as he was.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have very little time for any thing outside
+my work,” he said, running on with his mental
+comments. All a man had to do to make himself
+a hero was to let a woman like this fall in love
+with him.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What have <em>you</em> been doing?” he asked in his
+tone of sincere interest.
+</p>
+<p>
+“All my own doings,” she said lightly. “Mr.
+Hammerton and I have been writing a criticism
+upon a novel and comparing notes, and I have
+sewed, as all ladies do, and walked.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are an English girl about walking.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know every step of the way between Dunellen
+and Mayfield. Do <em>you</em> walk?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I drive. My life has a lack. My book is
+falling through. I do not find much in life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Our best things are nearest to us, close about
+our feet,” she answered.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+He did not reply. Ralph Towne never replied
+unless he chose.
+</p>
+<p>
+He opened his watch; he had been with her
+exactly ten minutes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have an engagement at six,” he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+The flexible lips stiffened. “Do not let me detain
+you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He was regarding her with a smile in his eyes
+that she could not interpret; her graceful head
+was thrown back against the mass of fluffy white
+upon the chair, the white softening the outlines
+of a face that surely needed not softening; the
+clear, unshrinking eyes meeting his with all her
+truth in them; the blue ribbon at her throat, the
+gray cashmere falling around her, touched him
+with a sense of fitness; the slight hands clasping
+each other in her lap, slight even with their
+strength, partly annoyed, partly baffled him. Mr.
+Hammerton had told her that she had wilful
+hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+Regarding Tessa Wadsworth as regarding some
+other things, Ralph Towne thought because he felt;
+he could not think any further than he thought
+to-day, because he had not felt any further.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was another friend in her life who with
+Tessa Wadsworth as with some other things felt
+because he thought, and he could not feel any further
+than he felt to-day because he had not thought
+any further.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the first time since she had known Ralph
+Towne, she was wishing that he were like Gus
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span>
+Hammerton. It had never occurred to her before
+to wish that he would change.
+</p>
+<p>
+Each smiled under the survey. He was thinking,
+“I wish I loved you.” She was thinking,
+“You are a dear, big boy; I wish you were more
+manly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You did not send me the poem you promised.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You said you would come soon.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you expect me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Had I any reason to doubt your word?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You must not take literally all I say,” he answered
+with irritation.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have learned that. I have studied the world’s
+arithmetic, but I do not use it to solve any word
+of yours, any more than I have supposed that you
+would use it to find the meaning of any problem
+you might discover in my attitude towards you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is best not to dig and delve for a meaning,
+Miss Tessa; society sanctions many phrases that
+you would not speak in sincerity.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Society!” she repeated in a tone that brought
+the color to his forehead. “Is society my law-giver?”
+</p>
+<p>
+It was very pleasant to be loved by a woman like
+this woman; he could not understand her, but she
+touched him like the perfume of the white rose, or
+the note of the thrush. His next words were sincere
+and abrupt. “You asked me some time since
+to burn the package of poems you have written for
+me. If I had done as much for you, would you
+destroy them?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+A flush, a dropping of the eyes, and a low laugh
+answered him.
+</p>
+<p>
+He arose quickly, with a motion of tossing off an
+ugly sensation. “I am very much engaged; I do
+not know when I can come again. We are going
+west for the winter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She could not lift her eyes, or speak, or catch her
+breath. She arose, slowly, as if the movement
+were almost too great an effort, and stood leaning
+against the tall chair, her fingers fumbling with
+the fringe of the tidy; the room had become so
+darkened that the white fringe was but a dark
+outline of something that she could feel.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue Greyson is to accompany my mother; I
+shall be much away, and I do not like to leave her
+with strangers.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue is pleasant and lively.” She had spoken,
+and now she could, not quite clearly yet, but a
+glance revealed the blood surging to his forehead,
+the veins swollen in his temples, even through the
+heavy mustache she discerned the twitching of his
+lips. The pain in her heart had opened her eyes
+wide. Had he come to make the parting final?
+What had she done that he should thus thrust her
+away outside of all the interests in his life? Did
+he know how she cared, and was he so sorry? Was
+he trying to be “patient,” as his mother had advised—patient
+with her for taking him at his
+word?
+</p>
+<p>
+Dunellen had called her proud; this instant she
+was as humble as a child.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Slowly and sorrowfully she said, “Come again—some
+time.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” he said, as slowly and as sorrowfully, “I
+will.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He was very sorry for this woman who had been
+so foolish as to think that his words had meant so
+much.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had closed the street door and was on the
+first step of the stairs when her mother called to
+her from the sitting-room.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What did Sir Dignified Undemonstrative have
+to say for himself?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He does not talk about himself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is your turn to get tea! It is Bridget’s afternoon
+out.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth was a little lady something less
+than five feet in height, as slight as a girl of twelve,
+and prettier than either of her daughters; with
+brown hair, brown eyes, and the sprightliest manner
+possible.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Young enough to be Tessa’s sister,” Dunellen
+declared.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she was neither sister nor mother as her
+elder daughter defined the words.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you get him, Tessa, you’ll get a catch,” remarked
+Mrs. Wadsworth watching the effect of her
+words.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first sound of her mother’s voice had brought
+her to herself, her self-contained, cautious and,
+oftentimes, sarcastic self.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have you any order about tea?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Her studied respect toward her mother, was
+pitiful sometimes. It was hard that she could not
+attain somewhat of her ideal of daughterhood.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, but I want you to do an errand for me after
+tea. I forgot to ask Dine to do it on her way from
+school.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Very well,” she assented obediently.
+</p>
+<p>
+She stumbled on the basement stairs, and found
+the kitchen so dark that she groped her way to
+a chair and sank into it, dropping her head on the
+table. She could hear nothing, see nothing, feel
+nothing—the whole earth was empty!
+</p>
+<p>
+Where was God? Had He gone, too?
+</p>
+<p>
+Through the open windows floated the sound of
+girls’ voices, as Norah and Dinah chatted and
+laughed in the garden. But the sound was far
+off; the engine whistled and screamed, but the
+sound was not in her world; carriages rolled past,
+the front gate swung to, her father’s step was on
+the piazza over her head, and he was calling, her
+dear old father, “Where are you all, my three
+girls?”
+</p>
+<p>
+His fulfilled hope was bitterer than all her disappointments
+ever could be.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t wonder,” she said with a sob in her
+throat, as she arose and pushed her hair back, “I
+don’t wonder that he can not love me; but oh, I
+wish that he had not told me a lie!”
+</p>
+<p>
+October passed; the days hurried into November;
+there was no more leaf-hunting for her, no more
+long walks down the beautiful country road, no
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span>
+more tripping up and down stairs with a song or
+a hymn on her lips, no more of life, she would
+have said, for every thing seemed like death. She
+did not die with shame, as at first she was sure
+that she would do; she could not run away to the
+far end of the earth where she would never again
+see his face; where every face would be a new face,
+where no voice would speak his name; she could
+not dig a hole in the earth and creep into it; she
+could not lie down at night and shut her tired eyes,
+with both hands under her cheek, as she always
+fell asleep, and never awake again, as she would
+love best of all to do; she could cry out, but she
+could not hear the answer, “Oh, please tell me
+when I <em>meant</em> to be so good, why it had to be so
+hard.”
+</p>
+<p>
+No; she had to live in a world where people
+would laugh at her if they only knew; how she
+would shiver and freeze if her mother should once
+begin to harp upon the sudden break. She could
+not bemoan herself all the time; she was compelled
+to live because she had been born, and she was compelled
+to thrive and grow cheery; there were even
+moments when she forgot to be ashamed, for her
+mother’s winter cough set in with the cold winds,
+and beside being nurse, she was in reality the head
+of the small household. Dinah was preparing to
+be graduated in the summer and was no help at
+all; instead, an hour or two every evening Tessa was
+asked to study with her, for she did not love study
+and was not quick like her sister.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+And then she had her own special work to do, for
+she was a scribbler in prose and rhyme; the half
+dozen weeklies that came to the house contained
+more than once or twice during the year sprightly
+or pathetic articles under the initials T. L. W.
+</p>
+<p>
+But few knew of this her “literary streak,” as her
+mother styled it, for she dreaded any publicity.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett, her father, and Mr. Hammerton were
+her sole encouragers and advisers; Mr. Towne was
+not aware that she dipped her pen in ink for any
+one’s pleasure but his own. Beside this work there
+were friends to entertain, half the girldom in Dunellen
+were her friends or had been at some time.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ralph Towne often wondered how she was “taking”
+it; he could have found no sign of it in her
+face or in her life. Her father feared that she was
+being overworked. Mr. Hammerton’s short-sighted
+eyes noticed a shadow flit across her eyes, sometimes,
+when she was talking to him, and said to
+himself, “I see her often; I see a change that is not
+a change; there is something happening that no
+one knows.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span><a name='ch3' id='ch3'></a>III.—THE LAST NIGHT OF THE OLD YEAR.</h2>
+<p>
+All her life she had longed for personal beauty;
+she loved every beautiful thing and she wanted to
+love her own face. It was Ralph Towne’s perfect
+face that had drawn her to him, his voice, and his
+eyes, like the woods in October.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had studied her face times enough by lamplight
+and sunlight to know it thoroughly, but she
+could not discover the sweetness that Miss Jewett
+saw, or the intelligence that delighted her father;
+she could find without much searching the freckles
+on her nose, the shortness of her upper lip, the two
+slight marks that infantile chicken-pox had dented
+into her forehead, the upward tendency of her nose,
+and the dimple that was only half a dimple in her
+chin.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was as pretty and as homely as any of the
+fair, blue-eyed girls in Dunellen or elsewhere: with
+lips that shaped themselves with every passing feeling;
+with eyes that could grow so bright and dark
+that one could forget how bright they were; with
+the palest of chestnut hair, worn high or low, as
+the little world of Dunellen demanded; with hands
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span>
+slight and characteristic; a figure neither tall nor
+slender, but perfectly proportioned, rounded and
+graceful; arrayed as neatly and becomingly as she
+could be on her limited allowance, usually in plain
+colors, often in black of a soft texture with a ribbon
+of some pale tint at her throat and among her braids.
+A stranger might have taken her for any one of the
+twenty-three girls in Miss Jewett’s Bible class; that
+is any one of the blue-eyed ones who wore gray
+vails and gray walking suits.
+</p>
+<p>
+But you and I know better.
+</p>
+<p>
+With her self-depreciation she was one thing that
+she was not likely to guess—the prettiest talker in
+the world.
+</p>
+<p>
+Felix Harrison had told Miss Jewett so years
+ago.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I haven’t any accomplishments,” she often
+sighed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You do not need any,” Mr. Hammerton had
+once said.
+</p>
+<p>
+One morning in December she chanced upon a
+bundle of old letters in one of Dinah’s drawers,
+they were written during the winter that she had
+spent in the city two years ago.
+</p>
+<p>
+She drew one from its envelope; it was dated
+December 22, just two years ago to-day; she ran
+through it eagerly. How often she had remembered
+that day as an era; the beginning of the best
+things in her uneventful life! The second perusal
+was more slow. “I have seen somebody new; he
+is a friend of Aunt Dinah’s, or his mother is, or
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span>
+was. Don’t you remember that handsome house
+near Mayfield, just above Laura’s? When they
+were building it, Laura and I used to speculate as
+to whom it belonged, and wonder if it would make
+any difference to us. She said she would marry
+the son (for of course there would be a handsome
+and learned son) and that I should come to live
+with her forever; and Felix said that he would
+buy it for me, some day; you and I used to play
+that we owned it but that we preferred to live
+nearer Dunellen and had left it in charge of our
+housekeeper! How often when the former owner
+was in Europe, I have stood outside the gates and
+peered in and planned how happy we would all
+be there. Father should rest and read, and enjoy
+all the beautiful walks and the woods and the
+streams in the meadow with the rustic bridge, and
+mother should have a coach and four, and you and
+Gus and I would have it all.
+</p>
+<p>
+“All this preamble is to introduce the fact that
+the somebody new is the owner of Old Place. Isn’t
+that an odd name? I don’t like it; I should call it
+Maplewood; in the autumn it is nothing but one
+glory of maple. His mother named it and they
+have become accustomed to its queerness. His
+mother is wintering with a relative, an invalid, I
+believe; I think that she has taken the invalid to
+Florida and the son (the father died long ago) has
+come to spend the winter in the city. They say
+he is wise and learned (I do not see any evidence
+of it, however), but he certainly is a veritable Tawwo
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span>
+Chikwo, the beauty of the world. Get out my old
+Lavengro and read about him.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is almost as dark as a gypsy, too, his eyes are
+the brownest and sunniest. I never saw such eyes
+(a sunbeam was lost one day and crept into his eyes
+for a home), his hair, beard, and mustache are as
+brown as his eyes; as brown, but not at all bright.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He looks like a big boy, but Aunt Dinah says
+that he is in the neighborhood of thirty; his life
+has left no trace in his face, or perhaps all that
+brown hair covers the traces of discipline. His
+manner is gentleness and dignity united. But he
+can’t talk. Or perhaps he won’t.
+</p>
+<p>
+“His replies (he ventures nothing else) are simple,
+good, kind, and above all, <em>sincere</em>. I have a feeling
+that I shall believe every word he says. That is
+something new for me, too. He doesn’t think
+much of me. He likes to hear me talk though; I
+have made several bright remarks for the pleasure
+of the sunbeam in his eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If I were his mother I should be sorry to do or
+say any thing to frighten it away.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know that he has never been in love; he
+could not be such a dear, grave, humorous, gentle,
+dignified, stupid big boy if some girl had shaken
+him up.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If he were the talker that Gus Hammerton is, I
+should go into raptures over him. He is a doctor,
+too, but he has not begun practice; he has been
+travelling with his mother. Is it not lovely to be
+rich enough to do just what you like?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tell Gus that I will answer his letter sometime;
+you may let him read this if you like.”
+</p>
+<p>
+This letter she tore into atoms; she glanced over
+the others to find Ralph Towne’s name; not once
+did she find it.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will do something to commemorate this anniversary,”
+she thought. “I will drop his photograph
+into the fire, and tear the fly-leaf out of the
+Mrs. Browning he gave me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her name and his initials were all that was
+written in the book; very carefully she cut out
+the entire page.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, child! have you seen a ghost?” her
+mother exclaimed, meeting her in the hall.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, but it was only a ghost; there was nothing
+real about it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+That afternoon, having some sewing to do for
+her father, she betook herself to the chilliness of
+the parlor grate; her mother was in a fault-find
+frame of mind and Tessa’s nerves were ready to be
+set on edge at the least provocation.
+</p>
+<p>
+That parlor! She would have wept over its
+shabbiness had she ever been able to find tears for
+such purposes. Wheeling an arm-chair near enough
+to the grate to be made comfortable by all the heat
+there was, she placed her feet on the fender and
+folded her hands over the work in her lap. It was
+a raw day, the sky over Mr. Bird’s house was unsympathetic,
+the bare branches in the apple orchard
+stretched out in all directions stiff and dry
+as if they were never to become green again; the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span>
+outlook was not cheering, the inlook was little
+more so; but how could she wish for any thing
+more than her father was able to give his three
+dear girls!
+</p>
+<p>
+This room had seemed pretty to her in the summer
+when the windows were open and she could
+have flowers everywhere; Ralph Towne always
+spoke of her flowers, and he had more than once
+leaned back in that worn green arm-chair opposite
+hers, as if that stiff, low room were the place of all
+places that he loved to be in. In dreary contrast
+with his own home, how poor and tasteless this
+home must be! How the carpet must stare up at
+him with its bunches of flowers and leaves upon
+its faded gray ground; how plain the white shades
+must appear after curtains of real lace; how worn
+and yellowish the green rep of the black-walnut
+furniture; how few the books in the small bookcase;
+and the photographs and engravings upon
+the walls, how they must shock him! How meagre
+and coarse her dress must be to him after his mother’s
+rich attire!
+</p>
+<p>
+She despised herself for pitying herself!
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue Greyson said that Old Place was fairy-land,
+but in her catalogue of its attractions she had omitted
+the spacious library; his “den,” Mr. Towne
+called it. In Tessa’s imagination he was ever in
+that room buried among its treasures.
+</p>
+<p>
+Was her photograph in that room? What had
+he done with it? Where was he keeping it? How
+he had coaxed for it! She had had it taken unwillingly;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span>
+it was altogether too much like giving herself
+away; but when she could refuse no longer she
+had given it to him. A vignette with all herself
+in it; too much of herself for him to understand;
+what would he do with it now? Burn it, perhaps,
+as she had burned his; but he would not be burning
+a ghost, it was her own self, that he had thrown
+away.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I should have despised myself forever if I had
+not believed in him and been true,” she reasoned.
+“I would rather trust in a lie than not believe the
+truth. And how could I know that he was not
+true!”
+</p>
+<p>
+She took up her work and began to sew, her reverie
+running on and running away with her; an
+ottoman stood near her, she had laid needlework
+and scissors upon it: how many associations there
+were clustering around it! It was an ugly looking
+thing, too; her mother had worked the cover one
+winter years ago when she was kept in by a cough;
+the wreath of roses was so unlike roses, and the
+parrot that was poised in the centre of the wreath,
+on a brown twig, was so ungainly! One night—how
+long ago it was—before she had ever seen
+Ralph Towne, Felix Harrison had been seated upon
+it while he told her with such a warm, shy glance
+that he never slept without praying for her. And
+Ralph Towne had scattered his photographs over it,
+and asked her to choose from among them, saying,
+“I should not have had them taken but for you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The ugly old parrot was dear after all.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder,” she soliloquized, taking slow stitches,
+“if having lost faith in a person, it can ever be
+brought back again? If he should come and say
+that he has been wrong—”
+</p>
+<p>
+The gate clicked, in an instant she was on her
+feet, <em>had</em> he come to confess himself in the wrong?
+Oh, how she would forgive and forget! And trust
+him?
+</p>
+<p>
+The tall thin figure had a stoop in its shoulders,
+Ralph Towne was erect; the overcoat was carelessly
+worn, revealing a threadbare vest and loose black
+necktie; it was only Dr. Lake, Dr. Greyson’s new
+partner.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had been drawn to him the first moment
+of their meeting. As soon as he had left after his
+first call, she had said to Dinah: “I never felt so
+towards any one before; I shall be so sorry for him
+to go away where I can not follow him; I want to
+put my arms around him and coax him to be good.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do you know that he isn’t good?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do know it. I do not know how I know. He
+hasn’t any ‘women folks’ either. He is as sensitive
+to every change in one’s voice as the thermometer
+is to changes in the atmosphere. I never saw any
+one like him before. When I make a collection of
+curiosities I find in Human Nature, I shall certainly
+take him for one of the rarest and most interesting.
+It would not take two minutes to convert him from
+the inquisitor to the martyr at the stake. I feel
+as if he were a little child crying with a thorn in
+his finger, and he had no mother to take it out.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“He was only here fifteen minutes and he was as
+full of fun as he could be; he ran down the piazza,
+and he whistled while he was unhitching his horse,
+and began to sing as he drove off. Oh, you are so
+funny! you hear a man talk slang—he is equal to
+Sue Greyson for that—ask mother about her cough,
+tell a funny story, and then think his heart is
+breaking with a thorn in his finger.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa would not laugh. “I want him to stay;
+I don’t want ever to lose him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t he ugly? Such a tall, square forehead.
+Did you ever see such a forehead?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My first thought of him was, ‘oh, how homely
+you are.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+But that first thought never recurred; she was
+too much attracted by his rapid, easy utterance
+and sensitive voice to remember his plain face and
+careless attire.
+</p>
+<p>
+She resumed her sewing with a new train of
+thought and had forgotten Dr. Lake’s entrance,
+when Bridget came to the door with a request
+from Mrs Wadsworth; opening the door of the
+sitting-room, she found her mother leaning back
+in her sewing chair with a plaintive and childish
+expression, and Dr. Lake playing with her spools
+of silk, sitting in a careless attitude of perfect
+grace at her side. Tessa was sorry to have the
+picture spoiled by his rising to greet her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ralph Towne, M.D.,” he was replying, “he was
+born with a gold spoon in his pretty mouth! It
+would have been better for him if it had been
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span>
+silver-plated like mine. Quit? He’s a mummy, a
+cloister, a tomb! I do not quarrel with any man’s
+calling,” he continued, winding the black silk
+around his fingers, “circumstances have made me
+a physician. Calling! It means something only
+when circumstances have nothing to do with it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Read the lives of the world’s best workers,”
+said Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“A glass of water, an empty glass, and a spoon,
+if you please, Miss Tessa. Do you remember—I
+have forgotten his name—but I assure you that I
+am not concocting the story—he rose to eminence
+in the medical profession, several rounds higher
+in the ladder of fame than I expect to climb—and
+his mind was drawn towards medicine when he
+was a youngster by the display of gold lace that
+his father’s physician flung into the eyes of the
+world. Gold lace made that boy a famous doctor.”
+Tessa brought the glasses and the water;
+in a leisurely manner he counted a certain number
+of spoonfuls of water into the empty glass. “I’m
+a commonplace fellow! I’m not one of the
+world’s workers! Neither is Ralph Towne! To
+have an easy life and not do <em>much</em> harm is the
+most I hope for in this world; as for the next,
+who knows anything about that? I say, ‘Your
+tongue, please,’ and drop medicine and make
+powders all day long for my bread and butter. I
+have no faith in medicine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you are an impostor! You shall never
+see even the tip of my tongue.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+He laughed as if it were such fun to laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is medicine to you?” he asked after
+counting forty drops from a vial into the water.
+“A woman in a crowd once touched the border of
+a certain garment and through faith was healed;
+so I take the thing that He has ordained for healing,
+all created things are His garment; through
+His garment I come nearer to Him and am healed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth looked annoyed. “So I may
+take cream instead of cod liver oil, doctor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you prefer it,” he answered carelessly. “Miss
+Tessa, you are a Mystic.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa liked to watch the motion of his fingers;
+his hands were small, shapely, and every movement
+of them struck her as an apt quotation. She
+was learning as much of himself from his hands
+as from his face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now I must go and scold Felix Harrison,” he
+said rising. “A teaspoonful in a wineglass of
+water three times a day, Mrs. Wadsworth! He
+had an attack last night and cheated me out of
+my dreams. Do you know him, Mystic? If he
+do not leave off brain work he will make a fool
+of himself. A gold spoon would not have hurt
+him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He turned suddenly facing Tessa as they stood
+alone in the hall; he was seriousness itself now; a
+look of care had settled over his features. He was
+not a “big boy,” he was a man, undisciplined, it
+is true, but a man to whom life meant many disappointments
+and hard work.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is the matter with you? Do you ever
+go to sleep? If you do not give up thinking and
+take to nonsense and novels, I shall be called to
+take you through a nervous fever. Mind, I am
+in earnest. Don’t spend too much time in washing
+the disciples’ feet either; it is very charming to
+be St. Theresa, but you are not strong enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you. I am well. Is Sue at home?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, she stays at Old Place until her knight
+departs. He had better go soon or I shall meet
+him in the woods. Alone. At midnight. What
+is he trifling with her for? Does he intend to
+marry her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Was this his thorn? Could he love a shallow
+girl like Sue Greyson?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ought we to talk about her?” she asked
+gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are her friend. You are older than she
+is. She will not listen to me. Her father takes
+no more care of her than he does of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She has not cared for me lately.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She does care for you. You must pull her
+through this. Towne made a fool of a girl I know—she
+is married, though; it didn’t smash her affections
+very deep; married rich, too. But it will
+be a pity for Sue to have a heartache all for nix;
+she is a guileless piece; I would be sorry for her to
+have a disappointment.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Motherless children are always taken care of,”
+she answered trying to speak lightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the twilight she sat alone at the parlor grate;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span>
+it was beginning to rain; through the mist the
+lights in kitchen and parlor opposite were gleaming;
+Dinah and Bridget were laughing in the
+basement; a quick, hard cough, then her father’s
+voice in a concerned tone sounded through the
+stillness.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why was she feeling lonely and as if her heart
+would break, unless somebody should come, or unless
+somebody gave her something, or unless something
+happened? In story-books, when one was
+in such a mood, in a misty twilight something
+always happened.
+</p>
+<p>
+Why were there not such strong helpers in her
+life as women in books always found? Compared
+with the grand, good, winning lover in books, what
+were the men she knew? Why, Dr. Lake was frivolous,
+Felix Harrison weak, Gus Hammerton practical
+and pedantic, and Mr. Towne heartless and
+stupid!
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gus is here,” said Dinah, her head appearing
+at the door, “and he has brought you a book!
+But I’m going to read it first.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, I’ll come,” she answered. But she did
+not go for half an hour; Mr. Hammerton took the
+new book to her immediately and talked to her
+until her pale cheeks were in a glow.
+</p>
+<p>
+The last day of the year, what a day it was!
+</p>
+<p>
+It was like a mellow day in October; in the
+afternoon Tessa found herself wandering through
+Mayfield; as she sauntered past the school-house a
+voice arrested her, one of the voices that she knew
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span>
+best in the world. She stood near the entrance
+listening.
+</p>
+<p>
+That thrilling pathetic voice; it had never touched
+her as it touched her to-day.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Old&nbsp;&nbsp;year,&nbsp;&nbsp;you&nbsp;&nbsp;shall&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;die;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;We&nbsp;&nbsp;did&nbsp;&nbsp;so&nbsp;&nbsp;laugh&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;cry&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;you,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I’ve&nbsp;&nbsp;half&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;mind&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;die&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;you,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Old&nbsp;&nbsp;year,&nbsp;&nbsp;if&nbsp;&nbsp;you&nbsp;&nbsp;must&nbsp;&nbsp;die.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+She stood but a moment, the voice read on, but
+she did not care to listen; she went on at a slow
+pace, enjoying each step of the way past the barren
+fields lying warm and brown in the sunlight,
+past the farm-houses, past the low-eaved homestead
+of the Harrisons, past the iron gates of the
+Old Place with the voice in her ears and the sigh
+for the old year in her heart. She almost wished
+that she could love Felix Harrison; she had refused
+him five times since her seventeenth birthday and
+in May she would be twenty-five! He had said
+that he would never ask her again. Why should
+she wish for any change to come into her life?
+If she might always live in the present, she would
+be content; she had her father and mother and
+Dine and Gus; her world was broad enough.
+</p>
+<p>
+The sound of wheels had been pursuing her;
+a sudden stoppage, then another voice that she
+knew called to her, “Miss Tessa, will you ride
+with me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps you are not going my way,” she said
+lightly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am going to Dunellen.” He answered her
+words only.
+</p>
+<p>
+As soon as they were seated in the carriage, she
+said very gravely, “I wrote you a letter last night,
+but I burned it this morning.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am sorry for that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The words came out with a gasp and a jerk; she
+did not know that words <em>could</em> choke like that, but
+she was glad as soon as she had spoken. “Mr.
+Towne, are you engaged to Sue Greyson?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Engaged! And to Sue Greyson!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I did not ask to be saucy—I did not believe
+it—but don’t be heartless—don’t be cruel—don’t be
+stupid, do think about her, and don’t let her die of
+shame.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Excuse me, Miss Tessa. Why should you talk
+to me about Sue Greyson?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I knew that you would not understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps you can explain.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t explain; you ought to know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What ought I to know?” he queried, looking
+down at her with the sunshine in his eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It seems mean in me to tell you such a thing,
+but I do not know of any other way for your sake
+and hers. I would do any thing to keep you from
+doing a heartless thing.”—Another heartless thing,
+she almost said.—“I would do any thing for Sue,
+as I would for Dine if <em>she</em> had been led into trusting
+in a lie.”
+</p>
+<p>
+His face became perplexed, uncomprehending.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you trying to tell me that Sue Greyson
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span>
+thinks that I am intending to marry her and that
+I have given her an occasion to believe it? You
+are warning me against trifling with Sue?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do you know that she thinks so?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nonsense! How do I know any thing?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I should as soon have thought—” he ended
+with a laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+“A woman’s heart is not made of grains of sand
+to be blown hither and thither by a man’s breath,”
+she said very earnestly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Tessa, you accuse me wrongfully. I have
+been kind to Sue—I have intended to be kind.
+Her life at home is too quiet for her, she has few
+friends and no education; you call me heartless.
+I thought that I was most brotherly and thoughtful.”
+</p>
+<p>
+His sincerity almost reassured her. Had she
+misjudged him?
+</p>
+<p>
+“I beg your pardon,” she said, after an uncomfortable
+pause. “I did not know that Old Place
+was a monastery and that you were a monk. If
+you are speaking sincerely, you are the most stupid
+human being that ever breathed; if you are not
+sincere, you are too wily for me to understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The color rose to his forehead, but he was silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Towne! Excuse me. I am apt to speak
+too strongly; but I care so much for Sue. She is
+only a child in her experiences; she has no fore-thought,
+she trusts every body, and she thinks that
+you are so good and wonderful. She does not understand
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span>
+any thing but sincerity. Will you think
+about her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was almost frightened, was he angry?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you angry with me?” she asked, laying
+her hand on his arm. “You can not misinterpret
+me; I don’t want Sue to be hurt, and I do not
+want you to be capable of hurting her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I understand you, Miss Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He spoke gently; her heart was at rest again.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You say that you can not understand whether
+I am wily or sincere?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Neither can I. But I <em>think</em> that I am sincere!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And please be careful how you change your attitude
+towards her; you are unconventional enough
+to refuse a woman upon the slightest pretext. I
+know that you will say ‘I regret exceedingly, Miss
+Sue, that you have misinterpreted my friendly attentions.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would like to; I think many things that I do
+not speak, Miss Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your head and heart would echo a perpetual
+silence if you did not,” she laughed. “The Sphinx
+is a chatterbox compared to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+As they drove up under the maple-trees before
+the low iron gate, he said, “Has this year been a
+happy year to you? Do you sleep well?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wouldn’t you like to look at my tongue and feel
+my pulse?” she returned in her lightest tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you not answer me?” he asked gravely.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“This year has been the best year of my life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So has it been my best year. This winter I
+shall decide several things pertaining to my future;
+it is my plan to practice for awhile—and
+not marry!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Were those last words for her? Discomfited and
+wounded—oh, how wounded!—her lips refused to
+speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good-by,” she said, just touching his hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+He turned as he was driving off and lifted his
+hat, the sunshine of his eyes fell full upon her; her
+smile was but a pitiful effort; what right had he to
+say such a thing to her?
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope,” she said, as she walked up the path,
+“that I shall never see you again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish that I had never seen her,” he ejaculated,
+touching his horse with the whip.
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus a part of the old year died and was
+buried.
+</p>
+<p>
+Shaking with cold, not daring to go away by herself,
+she irresolutely turned the knob of the sitting-room
+door; her face, she was aware, was not in a
+state to be taken before her mother’s critical eyes;
+but her heart was so crushed, she pitied herself
+with such infinite compassion, that she longed for
+some one to speak to her kindly, to touch her as if
+they loved her; any thing to take some of the aching
+away from that place in her heart where the
+tears were frozen.
+</p>
+<p>
+When she needed any mothering she gave it to
+herself; with her arms around her shivering, shrinking
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span>
+self, she was beseeching, “Be brave; it’s almost
+over.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In the old days, the impulsive little Tessa had
+always chided herself; the sensitive little Tessa had
+always comforted herself; the truthful, eager, castle-building
+little Tessa had always been her own refuge,
+shield, adviser, and best comforter.
+</p>
+<p>
+With more bosom friends than she knew how to
+have confidences with, with more admiring girl
+friends than she could find a place for, with more
+hearts open to her than to any one girl at school,
+Tessa the child, Tessa the maiden, and Tessa the
+woman had always lived within herself, leaned
+upon herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton said that she was a confutation
+of the oak and vine theory, that he had stood and
+stood to be entwined about, but that she would
+never entwine.
+</p>
+<p>
+In this moment, standing at the door, with her
+hand upon the knob, a ray of comfort shone into
+her heart and nestled there like a gleam of sunlight
+peering through an opening in an under-growth,
+and the ray of comfort was, that, perhaps
+Gus Hammerton would come to-night and talk to
+her in his kindly, practical, unsentimental fashion,
+sympathizing with her unspoken thoughts, and
+tender towards the feelings of whose existence he
+was unaware.
+</p>
+<p>
+Perhaps—but of late, did she fancy, or was it
+true? that he was rather shy with her, and dropped
+into the chair nearest to Dinah.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Well! she could be alone by and by and go to
+sleep!
+</p>
+<p>
+So relentless was she, in that instant toward
+Ralph Towne that it would have been absolute
+relief could she have looked into his dead face: to
+see the cold lids shut down fast over the sunshiny
+eyes, to know that the stiff lips could never open
+to speak meaningless words, to touch his head and
+feel assured that, warm and soft, his fingers could
+never hold hers again.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, Tessa, you look frozen to death,” exclaimed
+her mother. “How far did you go and
+where did you meet Mr. Towne?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I went to Mayfield,” she closed the door and
+moved towards the gay little figure reading “The
+Story of Elizabeth” upon the lounge. “Mr. Towne
+overtook me after I had passed Old Place.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“O, Tessa,” cried Dinah, dropping her book, “Dr.
+Lake was here. What a pity you were out! He
+asked where ‘Mystic’ was. I made a list on the
+cover of my book of the things that he talked about.
+Just hear them. One ought to understand short-hand
+to keep up with him. Now listen.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa stood and listened.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘The&nbsp;&nbsp;Valley&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;Dog,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘The&nbsp;&nbsp;Car&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;Juggernaut,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Insanity,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Intemperance,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Tobacco,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Slavery,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Church&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;State,<br />
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Conceit,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Surgery,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘The&nbsp;&nbsp;English&nbsp;&nbsp;Government,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Marriage,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Flirtations,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Ladies&nbsp;&nbsp;as&nbsp;&nbsp;Physicians,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘The&nbsp;&nbsp;Wicked&nbsp;&nbsp;World,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘A&nbsp;&nbsp;Quotation&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;&nbsp;Scott.’<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“And that isn’t half. I began to grow interested
+there, and forgot to write.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Where did the professional call come in?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, that doesn’t take a second. He watches his
+patient while he talks! Oh, and he told two hospital
+stories, a story of his school life, and about
+being lost in the woods, and about a camp-meeting!
+He is from Mississippi. Your Mr. Towne couldn’t
+say so much in ten years.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He says that the disease in my lungs is not
+progressive, but that I should protect my health! I
+ought to spend every winter in the West Indies or
+in the south of Europe! South of Europe, indeed!
+On your father’s business! Now if I had married
+John Gesner I might have spent my winters in any
+part of the civilized world.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Would you have taken us?” asked Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“The future is veiled from us mercifully.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah laughed. “Mother, you forget about love.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>Love!</em>” exclaimed Mrs. Wadsworth scornfully,
+“I should like to know what love is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Father knows,” said Dinah. “Have you read
+‘Elizabeth,’ Tessa?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’d <em>die</em> before I’d act as she did, wouldn’t you?
+I’d die before I’d let any body know that I cared
+for him more than he cared for me, wouldn’t you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t so easy to die.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did Mr. Towne speak of Sue Greyson?” inquired
+Mrs. Wadsworth.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What did he say?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nothing—much?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He must have said something. Couldn’t you
+judge of his feelings towards her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not a detective.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“H’m,” ejaculated Mrs. Wadsworth, glancing up
+at the uneasy lips, “if he can’t talk or sing, he can
+say something.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Possibly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Standing alone at one of the windows in her
+chamber, she watched the sun go down the last
+night of the old year.
+</p>
+<p>
+In her young indignation, she had called Ralph
+Towne some harsh names; while under the fascination
+of his presence, she had thought that she
+did not blame him for any thing; but standing
+alone with the happy, false old year behind her,
+and the new, empty year opening its door into nowhere,
+she cried, with a voiceless cry: “You are
+not true; you are not sincere; you are shallow and
+selfish.”
+</p>
+<p>
+At this moment, watching the same sunset, for
+he had an appreciation of pretty things, he was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span>
+driving homeward almost as nerve-shaken as Tessa
+herself; according to his measure, he was regretting
+that these two trusting women were suffering because
+of his—he did not call it selfishness—he had
+been merely thoughtless.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s heart could kindle and glow and burn itself
+out into white ashes before his would feel the
+first tremor of heat; she had prided herself upon
+being a student of human nature, but this man in
+his selfishness, his slowness, his simplicity, had baffled
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+How could she be a student of human nature if
+she understood nothing but truth?
+</p>
+<p>
+She was in a bitter mood to-night, not sparing
+Ralph Towne as she would not have spared herself.
+The crimson and gold faded! the gray shut down
+over her world: “How alone I shall be to live in a
+year without him!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“O, Tessa! Tessa!” cried Dinah, running up-stairs,
+“here’s Gus, and he has brought us something good
+and funny I know, for he’s so provokingly cool.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How could she think thoughts about the old year
+and the sunset with this practical friend down-stairs
+and a mysterious package that must mean books!
+She had expected to cry herself to sleep; instead
+she read Dickens with Mr. Hammerton until the
+new year was upon them.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gus,” she said severely, with the volumes of
+Dickens piled in her arms up to her chin, “if I
+become matter-of-fact, practical, and commonplace
+there will be no one in the world to thank but you.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span>
+I had a poem at my finger tips about the old year
+that would have forever shattered the fame of Tennyson
+and Longfellow.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“As we have lost it, we’ll be content with them,”
+he said. “Drop your books and let us read them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Before the dawn she was dreaming and weeping
+in her sleep, for a voice was repeating, not the
+voice in the school-house, nor the voice that had
+read Longfellow, but the voice that had spoken
+the cold good-by at the gate:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“The&nbsp;&nbsp;leaves&nbsp;&nbsp;are&nbsp;&nbsp;falling,&nbsp;&nbsp;falling,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Solemnly&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;slow;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Caw!&nbsp;&nbsp;Caw!&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;rooks&nbsp;&nbsp;are&nbsp;&nbsp;calling,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It&nbsp;&nbsp;is&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;sound&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;woe,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A&nbsp;&nbsp;sound&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;woe!”<br />
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span><a name='ch4' id='ch4'></a>IV.—SOMEBODY NEW.</h2>
+<p>
+There was the faintest streak of sunshine on the
+dying verbenas in her garden; the dead leaves,
+twigs, and sprays looked as if some one who did
+not care had trampled on them. She was glad
+that the plants were in, that there was a warm
+place for them somewhere.
+</p>
+<p>
+The school children were jostling against each
+other on the planks, on the opposite side of the
+street, laughing and shouting. Nellie Bird was
+provokingly chanting:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Freddie’s&nbsp;&nbsp;mad,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;am&nbsp;&nbsp;glad,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;know&nbsp;&nbsp;what&nbsp;&nbsp;will&nbsp;&nbsp;please&nbsp;&nbsp;him.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+and there were two little girls in red riding hoods,
+plaid cloaks, and gay stockings, skipping along
+with their hands joined. It was a hard world for
+little girls to grow up in. She had run along the
+planks from school once, not so very long ago,
+swinging her lunch-basket and teasing Felix Harrison
+just as at this minute Nellie Bird was teasing
+Freddie Stone.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Her needle was taking exquisite stitches; Dinah
+liked white aprons for school wear, and this was
+the last of the dainty half-dozen. Her mother’s
+voice and step broke in upon her reverie.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, I wouldn’t have believed it, but six of
+my cans of tomatoes have all sizzled up! Not one
+was last year, though. Mrs. Bird never has such
+good luck with hers as we have with ours.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s too bad. But we have so many that we
+sha’n’t miss them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That isn’t the question. I remember how my
+side ached that day. Bridget was so stupid and
+you and Dine had gone up to West Point with
+Gus; he always is coming and taking you and
+Dine off somewhere! You are not attending to a
+word I say.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I am; I am thinking how you took us all
+three to look at your cans of tomatoes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you don’t care about the tomatoes. You
+never do take an interest in house-work. I would
+rather have Sue Greyson’s skin stuffed with straw
+than to have you around the house. And <em>she</em> is
+going to marry Ralph Towne: she passed with
+him this morning; they were in the phaeton with
+that pair of little grays! And Sue was driving!
+I believe that you have taken cold in some way,
+you must see the doctor the next time he comes;
+your face is the color of chalk, and your eyes are
+as big as saucers with dark rims under them! You
+sat here writing altogether too late last night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It was only eleven when I went up-stairs.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“That was just an hour too late. What good
+does your writing do you or any body, I’d like to
+know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is rather too early in my life to judge.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your father spoils you about writing; I suppose
+that he thinks you are a feather in <em>his</em> cap; I tell
+him that you are none of my bringing up.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not ‘up’ yet, perhaps.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You may as well drop that work and take a run
+into Dunellen; the air will do you good. You had
+color enough in the summer. I want a spool of red
+silk, two pieces of crimson dress braid, and a spool of
+fifty cotton. Don’t get scarlet braid, I want crimson;
+and run into the library and get me something
+exciting; you might have known better than to
+bring me that volume of essays!”
+</p>
+<p>
+She folded the apron and laid it on the pile in the
+willow work-basket, wrapped herself in a bright
+shawl, covered her braids with a brown velvet hat,
+and started for her walk, drawing on her gloves as
+she went down the path.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her mother stood at the window watching her.
+“She is too deep for me,” she soliloquized; “there is
+more in her than I shall ever make out. She is so
+full of nonsense that I expect she has refused Ralph
+Towne, and what for, I can’t see—there’s no one else
+in the way.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In Tessa’s pocket was a long and wide envelope
+containing the article that she had sat up last night
+to write; the lessons gathered from her old year she
+had told in her simple, quaint, forcible style. The
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span>
+title was as simple as the article: “Making Mistakes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, you are not brilliant,” Miss Jewett had
+once remarked, “but you do go right to the
+spot.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The fresh air tinged her cheeks, she breathed
+more freely away from her work and her reveries;
+there was life and light somewhere, she need not
+suffocate in the dark.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was not a long walk into the little city of Dunellen;
+fifteen minutes of brisk stepping along the
+planks brought her to the corner that turned into
+the broad, paved, maple-lined street. As she turned
+the corner, a lame child in a calico dress and torn
+hood staggered past her bent with the weight of a
+heavy basket. She stopped and would have spoken,
+but the shy eyes were not encouraging.
+</p>
+<p>
+Two years ago all the world might have knocked
+at her gate and she would not have heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you ride?” She lifted her eyes, with their
+color deepening, to find Mr. Towne sitting alone
+in his carriage looking down at her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are going the wrong way.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because I am not going <em>your</em> way?” he asked
+somewhat sternly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought that you had gone away,” she said
+uncomfortably.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We go on the seventeenth.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have not told me where?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have I not? You have forgotten. Sue will
+stay at home and learn to be sensible.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t like you when you speak in that tone.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I will never do it again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good-by,” she said cheerily, passing on.
+</p>
+<p>
+His thoughts ran on—“How bright she is! She
+has a sweet heart, if ever a woman had! I wonder
+if I <em>am</em> letting slip through my fingers one of the
+opportunities that come to a man but once in a lifetime!
+A year or two hence will do; she cares too
+much to forget me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her thoughts ran on-“How <em>can</em> you look so
+good and so handsome and not be true!”
+</p>
+<p>
+With a quickened step she crossed the Park. Miss
+Jewett’s large fancy store was opposite the Park.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett was never too tired or too busy to
+live again her young life. Sue Greyson was sure
+that she had broken somebody’s heart, else she never
+was so eloquent in warning her about Stacey Rheid.
+Laura Harrison had decided that she had once lived
+in constant dread of having a step-mother. Mary
+Sherwood wondered if she had ever been a busybody,
+and in that experience had learned to warn
+her to keep quiet her busy tongue; and Tessa
+Wadsworth knew that she must have learned her
+one word of advice: “Wait,” through years that
+she would not talk about.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett was seldom alone; Tessa was glad
+to find the clerks absent and no one bending over
+the counter but Sue Greyson.
+</p>
+<p>
+“O, Tessa,” she cried in her loud, laughing voice.
+“I haven’t seen you in an age.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett’s greeting was a hand-clasp; among
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span>
+all her girls (and all the girls in Dunellen were
+hers) Tessa Wadsworth was the elected one.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mrs. Towne has every thing so delicious,” Sue
+was rattling on; “such perfumes and such silks and
+such jewels. Oh, how Old Place makes my mouth
+water! I wish you could go over the place, Tessa;
+you were never even through the grounds, were
+you? Mr. Ralph takes great pride in keeping it
+nice; of course, it is really his. I’d marry any
+body to live there and have plenty of money and
+do just as I please; not that Mr. Ralph isn’t something
+out of the common, though. People say
+that he never means any thing by his attentions;
+Dr. Lake says—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hear that you are going to St. Louis,” interrupted
+Miss Jewett.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I’m not. And I’m as provoked as I can be
+and live! Something has happened; Mr. Ralph is
+an uneasy mortal; he never knows what he will
+do next, and he has changed his mind about taking
+me. My cake is all dough about my winter’s
+fun. How I cried the night she told me! The
+last night of the year, too, when I ought to have
+been full of fun. Mrs. Towne wants me to write
+to her, but I’d never dare, unless you would help
+me, Tessa, about the spelling and punctuation.
+Mr. Ralph would laugh until he died over my
+letters.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t write to Stacey now, Miss Jewett. I
+wrote him a letter one Sunday from Old Place and
+told him that he might as well cease. Mr. Ralph
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span>
+and I had been walking through the wood and he
+asked me if I were engaged to Stacey! I thought
+it was about time to stop that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps if you had been home you wouldn’t
+have written that letter. Stacey is a fine fellow.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I had thought of it, but that day I decided!
+Stacey can hardly support one, let alone two. Father
+says that I was born to have a rich husband
+because I have such luxurious tastes! I know that
+I shall die cooped up at home. I have to go out
+to see the sons and daughters of the land. Tessa,
+I don’t see how you live.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do, nevertheless,” said Tessa, selecting her
+spool of silk.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall have Dr. Lake this winter or I couldn’t
+exist. He says that he will take me everywhere if
+father will only give him the time. He is great fun,
+only he does get so moody and serious; sits for two
+hours in the office with his head in his hands. Mr.
+Ralph doesn’t have moods; he is always pleasant.
+I am going to stay these last few days at Old Place.
+Tessa, I am coming to stay all night with you and
+have a long talk.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall be very glad; I have been wishing that
+you would.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I’ll come. I have a whole budget to tell
+you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue, you look thin,” said Miss Jewett, rolling
+up her purchases.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>am</em> thin. Since the night before New Years
+I have lost three pounds.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+The night before New Years! Tessa’s veil shaded
+her face falling between her and Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Ralph lectured me; oh, <em>how</em> he talked!
+When he will, he will, that’s the truth. His
+mother says that her will is nothing compared
+to his, and I believe it.” Sue’s face grew troubled.
+“He told me that I ought to read travels and histories,
+and throw away novels; that I ought to
+marry Stacey, if he is a good man and can take
+care of me—” Her voice sounded as if she were
+crying; she laughed instead and ran off.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Something at Old Place has hurt Sue; I didn’t
+like the idea of Mrs. Towne taking her up; Mr.
+Towne—I do not know about him! Do you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ah, here comes Sarah! Rachel has a sore throat,
+and Mary has gone to the city to buy to-day. Light
+the gas, Sarah.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The light flashed over the faces: Miss Jewett’s
+almost as fair as a child’s, and sweeter than any
+child’s that Tessa had ever seen, with a mouth
+in the lines of which her whole history was written,
+with just a suspicion of dimples in the tinted
+cheeks, with brown rings of soft hair touching
+the smooth forehead; the younger face was hurried,
+anxious, with a trembling of the lips, and a
+nervous gleam in the eyes that were so dark, to-night,
+that they might have been mistaken for
+hazel.
+</p>
+<p>
+The door was pushed open; a crowd of girls giggled
+in; Tessa bowed to Mary Sherwood and moved
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span>
+aside. She was turning over a pile of wools, selecting
+colors for a sacque for Dinah, when a laugh
+from the group thrilled her; low, deep, full, in all
+her life she had never heard a sound like it.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was as sweet as the note of a thrush and as
+jubilant as a thoughtless girl.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now, Naughty Nan, you are laughing at me.
+But I will forgive you, because you are going
+away so soon. When are you coming back?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Never. I will allure the black bear to take me
+around the world.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Naughty Nan stepped back, tossing her curls
+away from her face; Tessa looked down into her
+face, for she was a little thing; it was not a remarkable
+face: a broad forehead, deep set brown
+eyes, a passable complexion, a saucy mouth. If
+she would only laugh again; but she would not
+even speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+How surprised Tessa would have been had she
+known that Naughty Nan had been studying her
+and wishing, “I want to be like you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The group of girls giggled out.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have fallen in love,” said Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“With Nan Gerard? Every body does. She is
+one of those lovable little creatures that every body
+spoils! It’s strange that you haven’t met her; she
+is Mary Sherwood’s cousin.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do remember now—Mr. Hammerton told me
+that I must hear her laugh.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Her home is in St. Louis; she had never been
+in Dunellen until a month since; she was her father’s
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span>
+pet and lived abroad with him until he died
+a year ago! He named her Naughty Nan. She
+has plenty of money and plenty of lovers! She
+is going home under the escort of Mr. Towne
+and his mother. Perhaps it is her laugh that has
+stolen his heart from Sue! Naughty Nan was to be
+married, but the gentleman died in consumption.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And she can laugh as lightly as that! If my
+father should die I would never laugh again.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span><a name='ch5' id='ch5'></a>V.—HEARTS THAT WERE WAITING.</h2>
+<p>
+On the evening of the eighteenth of January,
+Tessa was sitting alone in her chamber, wrapped
+in her shawl, writing. She was keeping a secret,
+for she was writing a book and no one knew it but
+Mr. Hammerton; he would not have known it had
+not several questions arisen to which she could find
+no answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not do without my encyclopedia,” she
+had said.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had written the title lovingly—“Under the
+Wings.”
+</p>
+<p>
+This chamber was her sanctuary; she was born
+in this room, she had lived in it ever since; her little
+battles had been fought on this consecrated
+ground, her angry tears, her wilful tears, and the
+few later grateful tears had fallen while kneeling
+at the side of the white-draped bed or sitting at
+the window with her head in her hands or on
+the window-sill. A stranger would have thought
+it a plain, low room with its cottage set of pale
+green and gold trimmings, its ingrain carpet of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span>
+oak leaves on a green ground, its gray paper with
+scarlet border, and three white shades with scarlet
+tassels.
+</p>
+<p>
+The high mantel was piled with books, the gifts
+of her father, Mr. Hammerton, and Miss Jewett; on
+the walls were photographs in oval black-walnut
+frames of Miss Jewett, sitting at a table with her
+elbow upon it and one hand resting on a book in
+her lap, of her father and mother, she sitting and
+he standing behind her, and one of herself and Dinah,
+taken when they were fifteen and twenty-one;
+there were also a large photograph taken from a
+painting of the Mater Dolorosa, which Mr. Hammerton
+had given her on her fourteenth birthday and
+a chromo of Red Riding Hood that he had given
+to Dinah upon her fourteenth birthday. Upon the
+table at which she was writing, books were piled,
+and a package of old letters that she had been sorting,
+and choosing some to burn, among which were
+two from Felix Harrison. The package contained
+several from Mr. Hammerton, but his were never
+worth burning; they were only worth keeping because
+they were so like himself. Pages of manuscript
+were scattered among the books, and a long
+envelope contained two rejected articles that she
+had planned to rewrite after a consultation with
+Mr. Hammerton and to send elsewhere. She had
+cried over her first rejected article (when she was
+eighteen), and two years afterward had revised it,
+changed the title, and her father had been proud
+of it in print.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+She was writing and thinking of Sue when a
+noisy entrance below announced her presence.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Go right up,” said Mrs. Wadsworth’s voice.
+“Tessa is star-gazing in her room. Don’t stay if
+you are chilly. Tessa likes to be cold.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa met her at the head of the stairs.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ve come to stay all night. Do you want
+me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I want you more than I want any one in the
+world.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s refreshing. I wanted to see you and
+that’s why I came. Norah Bird said that Dine
+was to stay all night with her and I knew I should
+have you all to myself. Dr. Lake brought me. I
+believe that he wanted me to come. What do you
+stay up here for? It’s lovely down-stairs with your
+father and mother; she is sewing and he is reading
+to her. Put away that great pile of foolscap and
+talk to me; I’m as full of talk as an egg is full of
+meat.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Must I break the shell?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your room always looks pretty and there isn’t
+much in it, either.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course not, after Old Place.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Old Place <em>is</em> enchanting!” Sue tossed her gloves
+and hat to the bed. “I’ll keep on my sacque; I
+want to stay up here.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa had reseated herself at the table. Sue
+dropped down on the carpet at her feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have they gone?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, yes! I stayed to see them off and drove
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span>
+to the depot with them. We called for Nan Gerard.
+What a flirt that girl is! Any one would think
+that she had known Mr. Ralph all his life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue leaned backward against Tessa; her face was
+feverish and excited, her thin cheeks would have
+looked hollow but for their high color, her eyes as
+she raised them revealed something new; something
+new and not altogether pleasant.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa touched her hair and then bent over and
+kissed her. It was so seldom that Sue was kissed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know that night—” Sue began with an
+effort, “the night before New Years. Mr. Ralph
+found me in his den, I was arranging one of his
+tables, and he said that he wanted to talk to me.
+And I should think he <em>did</em>! I didn’t know that
+he had so much tongue in his head. His mother
+calls him Ralph the Silent. Grace Geer calls him
+Ralph the Wily when nobody hears. He is Ralph
+the Hateful when he wants to be. How he went
+on! Fury! There! I promised him not to talk
+slang or to use ‘unlady-like exclamations.’ I was
+as high and mighty as he was, but I wanted to cry
+all the time. He said that I ought to live for something,
+that I am not a child but a woman. And I
+promised him that I wouldn’t read novels until he
+says that I may! He said that I didn’t know what
+trouble is! <em>He</em> has had trouble, Grace Geer says.
+I don’t see how. Some girl I suppose. Perhaps
+she flirted with him. I hope she did. But I have
+had trouble. Did <em>he</em> ever wait and wait and wait
+for a thing till he almost died with waiting, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span>
+then find that he didn’t get it and never <em>could</em>?
+Did you ever feel so?”
+</p>
+<p>
+The appealing eyes were looking into hers; she
+could not speak instantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t believe that you ever did. You are
+quiet. You have a nice home and people to love
+you; your mother and father are so proud of you;
+your mother is always talking to people about you
+as if she couldn’t live without you! And you don’t
+have beaux and such horrid things! I shouldn’t
+think that you would like Dine to have a lover before
+you have one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dine?” said Tessa, looking perplexed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, yes, Mr. Hammerton.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I forgot him,” replied Tessa, almost laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish that I had <em>never</em> seen Old Place. I never
+should have thought any thing if it hadn’t been
+for Grace Geer. Before I went to Old Place I expected
+to marry Stacey. She put things into my
+head. She used to call me Mrs. Ralph, and tell me
+how splendidly I could dress after I was married!
+And she used to ask me what he said to me and
+explain that it meant something. I didn’t know
+that it meant any thing. He was so old and so
+wise that I thought he could never think of me.
+Once she went home with me and she told father
+and Aunt Jane and Dr. Lake that they were going
+to lose me. He told me himself that night that he
+was more interested in me than in any body.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did he say that?” asked Tessa, startled.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, he did.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So am I interested in your life. I want to see
+what becomes of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, he didn’t mean <em>that</em>. He meant in me.
+But I suppose he didn’t mean any thing, or he
+wouldn’t have told his mother not to take me to
+St. Louis. You think I like him because he’s rich
+and handsome, but I don’t. I like him because he
+was so kind to me; nobody was ever so kind to me
+before; I can love any one who is kind to me. He
+gave me his photograph a year ago. It’s elegant.
+I’ll show it to you some time. I know he had six
+taken, for I saw them and counted them; he didn’t
+know it, though. And I heard him tell his mother
+that he had <em>five</em> taken. I never could find out
+where that sixth one went to. I know that his
+mother had one, and Grace Geer, and Miss Sarepta
+Towne, that’s three! And mine was four, and
+Philip Towne’s was five. I asked him where the
+other was.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What did he say?” asked Tessa, gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He said nothing. I know that Aunt Jane
+thinks my not going the queerest thing in nature,
+and father looked rather nonplussed and asked me
+what I had been doing. I am as ashamed as I
+can be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa arranged her papers thoughtfully; she was
+pondering Grace Geer’s name for Mr. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps he will change his mind and come
+home and like me,” said Sue, brightening.
+</p>
+<p>
+“O, Sue, Sue, don’t make a disappointment for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span>
+yourself! When there are so many good and beautiful
+things in the world, why do you see only this
+that is being withheld?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because—” with a drooping head, “I want it
+so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There are good men and good women in the
+world, Sue; men and women whose word is pure
+gold.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Whose, I’d like to know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Jewett’s.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, of course!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And Gus Hammerton’s.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, he’s as wise and stupid as an owl!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dr. Johnson could think in Latin and I should
+not wonder if Gus could.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But he’s awkward and never talks nonsense,
+and he wears spectacles and has a tiny bald spot
+on the top of his head, the place where the wool
+ought to grow! The girls don’t run after him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They are not wise enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He’s so old, too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He’s younger than Mr. Towne.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He doesn’t look so. And he’s poor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He has a good salary in the bank.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Ralph has the pure gold, but it is not in his
+word. I only wish it was. I always pray over my
+love affairs; they ought to come out all right.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do you know what ‘all right’ is?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know what I want.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ll say to you what Miss Jewett always says
+<em>Wait</em>.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“What for? I don’t know what I’m waiting for.
+Do you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What? Tell me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>The will of God</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh!” Sue drew nearer as if she were frightened.
+After a while she spoke: “I’m so sorry for
+dear Mrs. Towne. She has every thing in the
+world but the thing she wants most. She said
+one day that she would be willing to be the poorest
+woman in Dunellen if she might have a daughter.
+She said it one day after we had passed you;
+you were alone, picking up leaves near the corner
+by the brook. ‘A daughter like that,’ she said,
+and she turned to look back at you; you were
+standing still with the leaves in your hand. Mr.
+Ralph didn’t say anything, but he looked back, too.
+I said, ‘That’s Tessa Wadsworth.’ Mrs. Towne
+said, ‘Do you know her, Ralph?’ and he said, ‘I
+have met her several times.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa had wiped her gold pen and slipped it into
+its morocco case; she closed her writing-desk as she
+said cheerily: “Now about this winter, Sue; what
+do you intend to do?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You don’t know how horrid it is at home! Father
+always has his pockets full of bottles and he
+doesn’t care for the things that interest me; all he
+talks about is his ‘cases,’ and all Aunt Jane cares
+for is house-work and the murders in the newspapers;
+Dr. Lake is splendid, but he’s so poor and he’s
+low-spirited when he isn’t full of fun; and when his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span>
+engagement with father is ended he’ll set up for
+himself, and it will take him a century to afford to
+be married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue, look up at me and listen.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue looked up and listened.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I pray you don’t flirt with Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue laughed a conscious laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Men flirt; they haven’t any hearts.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He has. You do not know the influence for
+evil that you may become in his life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue’s eyes grew wild, she clung to Tessa with
+both hands. “You sha’n’t talk so to me. You
+sha’n’t. You make me afraid. I’ll try to be good.
+I <em>will</em> try.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How will you try?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I won’t try to make him like me. I am sure
+that he would if I should try a little. I’ll tell him
+about Stacey. Tessa, <em>I don’t want to be an old maid.</em>”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s eyes and lips kept themselves grave.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wouldn’t think about that. I’d do good and
+be good; I’d help Aunt Jane, and go with your
+father on his long drives—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’d rather go with Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Let your father see what a delightful daughter
+you can be. My father and I can talk for hours
+about books and places and people.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Hateful! I hate books. And I don’t know
+about places and book-people.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And don’t wait for Dr. Lake to come in at
+night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do. I made him a cup of coffee last night.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who makes coffee for your father?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh father thought that I made it for him. But
+Dr. Lake knew!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will read history with you this winter. Dine
+and I intend to study German with Gus Hammerton;
+you can study with us, if you will.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ugh!” groaned Sue, “as if that were as much
+fun as getting married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It may help along. Who knows?” laughed
+Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m going to make Miss Gesner a visit next
+month. She asked me to-day. But they are such
+old men? Mr. John Gesner is an old beau! Mr.
+Lewis is lovely, so kind and polite. And Miss Gesner
+is charming when she doesn’t try to educate
+me. Their house is grander than Old Place and
+they keep more servants. I’ll forget all about Old
+Place before spring. Mr. John Gesner likes girls.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well! Don’t be so solemn.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If I were to die and leave a little girl in the
+world as your mother left you, I would hope that
+some one would watch over her, and if the time
+came, through her own foolishness, or in the way
+of God’s discipline, for a disappointment to come to
+her, I would hope that this friend would love her
+as I love you to-night. She would warn her, advise
+her, and encourage her! Don’t go to visit
+Miss Gesner; she is selfish to ask you; you are
+bright and lively and she likes to have you to help
+entertain her friends—but you will not be so good
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span>
+a daughter to your father if your heart is drawn
+away from his home; the best home that he can
+afford to give you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There’s danger at home and danger abroad,”
+laughed Sue. “Don’t you wish that you could put
+me in a glass case?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know what to do with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, something will happen to me before long.
+I’ll get married or die or something. I’m glad I
+had my things ready to go with the Townes, for
+now I have them ready to go to Miss Gesner’s. I
+wish I had a mother and my little brother hadn’t
+died. I’d like to have a <em>real</em> home like yours! I
+wouldn’t mind if it were as plain as this; but I’d
+rather have it like Old Place. Won’t Nan Gerard
+have a lovely time? Such a long journey, and
+Mr. Ralph will be so attentive, and she’ll be so
+proud to be with such a handsome fellow! Don’t
+you like to be proud of people that belong to you?
+I am always proud enough to go out with Mr.
+Ralph.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There is some one else to be proud of somewhere!
+Sue, can’t you be brave?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Somebody will have what I want,” said Sue.
+“I can’t bear to think of that. I shall have to
+drive past Old Place in father’s chaise with one
+horse, and I hate to drive with one horse! and see
+somebody in <em>my</em> place in silks and velvets and diamonds
+and emeralds! And <em>she</em> will have visitors
+from all over and Old Place will be full of good
+times and Mr. Ralph will let her do it all and be
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span>
+so kind to her! And she will be so proud and
+happy and handsome. Would <em>you</em> like that? You
+know you wouldn’t. Do you think that I really
+must give him up?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue did not see the distressed face above her;
+she felt that the fingers that touched her hair and
+forehead were loving and pitiful.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t talk so; don’t <em>think</em> so! Forget all about
+Old Place. Do you not remember Mrs. Towne’s
+kindness? That is a happier thing to think of
+than the grounds and the house and handsome
+furniture.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish I had told you about it before,” sobbed
+Sue. “You would have made it right for me; then
+I wouldn’t have thought and thought about it until
+it was <em>real</em>. And now I can’t believe that it isn’t
+true and the house is shut up with only Mr. and
+Mrs. Ryerson and the boy to look after things and
+Mr. Ralph gone not to come back—ever, perhaps.
+If Mrs. Towne should die, perhaps he won’t come
+back but go off and be a doctor; for he doesn’t
+want to be married, he said so; he told his mother
+so. I don’t want him to be a doctor and have bottles
+in all his pockets and smell of medicine like
+father and Dr. Lake. He wouldn’t be Mr. Ralph
+any more.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So much the better for you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you don’t think that he’s so grand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She answered quietly, surprising herself with the
+truth that she had not dared to confess to herself,
+“No. I do not think he is so grand.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who is?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who is? George Macdonald and George Eliot
+and Shakespeare and St. Paul and my father and
+your father,” laughed Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Hark. They are singing over the way.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There’s a child’s party there to-night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa went to the window.
+</p>
+<p>
+Loud and merry were the voices:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Little&nbsp;&nbsp;Sally&nbsp;&nbsp;Waters&nbsp;&nbsp;sitting&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;sun,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Weeping&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;crying&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;man.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue laughed. “Oh, how that carries me back.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s good advice,” said Tessa, as the children
+shouted—
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Rise,&nbsp;&nbsp;Sally,&nbsp;&nbsp;rise,&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;wipe&nbsp;&nbsp;off&nbsp;&nbsp;your&nbsp;&nbsp;eyes.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish that I were a little girl over there in
+the fun,” said Sue. “Suppose we go.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I intended to go. Perhaps we can teach them
+some new games.”
+</p>
+<p>
+No one among the children was merrier than
+Sue; not one any more a child.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think I’ll stay little,” said Sue, coming to
+Tessa, half out of breath. “I’m never going to
+grow up; it’s hateful being a woman, isn’t it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will never know,” said Tessa laughing.
+“There’s little Harry Sherwood calling for Sue
+Greyson now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Towards midnight, when Tessa was asleep, Sue
+awakened her with, “Put your arm around me, I
+can’t go to sleep.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue lay still not speaking or moving.
+</p>
+<p>
+The clock in the sitting-room struck three.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, Tessa,” whispered a startled voice, “are
+you awake?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” rousing herself, “what is it? Is any
+thing the matter?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, no,” wearily, “but it has struck one, and
+two, and three, and I’m afraid it will strike four.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose it will unless the clock stops or time
+ceases to be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What will be when time ceases to be? What
+comes next?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Forever comes next. Don’t you want it to be
+forever?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You sha’n’t talk so and frighten me. I can’t go
+to sleep. I thought somebody was dying or dead.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You were dreaming.” Tessa put a loving arm
+around her. “Didn’t you ever say the multiplication
+table in the night?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, nor any other time.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The moonlight shone in through the open window,
+making a golden track across the carpet.
+</p>
+<p>
+“The moon shines on Red Riding Hood,” said
+Sue. “Tell me a story, Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t you like the moonlight? Some one had
+a lovely little room once and she said that the
+moonlight came in and swept it clean of foolish
+thoughts.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What else?” in an interested voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is a long story; it is in blank verse, too, and
+you like rhymes.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ve been trying to say Mother Goose and Old
+Mother Hubbard.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will tell you a story,” said Tessa, as wide
+awake as if the sun were shining. “I will rhyme
+it as I run along, and when I hesitate and can not
+make good sense and a perfect rhyme, we’ll go to
+sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, but you must do your best.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I always do my best. I tell Gus and Dine
+stories in rhyme.”
+</p>
+<p>
+So she began with a description of a little girl
+who was fair and a boy who was brave, who grew
+up and grew together, but cruel fate in the shape
+of a step-mother separated them, and he travelled
+all over the world, and she stayed at home and
+made tatting, until a hundred years went by and
+he came to the door a worn-out traveller and found
+her a withered maiden sitting alone feeding her
+cat. Afterward in trying to recall this, she only
+remembered one couplet:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“He&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;covered&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;snow,&nbsp;&nbsp;his&nbsp;&nbsp;hat&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;fur,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;took&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;off&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;bowed&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;her.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Once or twice Sue gave a hysterical laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+The story was brought to a proper and blissful
+conclusion; still Sue was sleepless.
+</p>
+<p>
+“How far on their journey do you suppose they
+are now?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m not a time-table.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue lay too still to be asleep; when she <em>was</em> still
+she was a marvel of stillness.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Daylight and breakfast found her in high spirits,
+asking advice of Mrs. Wadsworth about making a
+wrapper out of an old brown cashmere, and talking
+to Tessa about the drive that she had promised to
+take with Dr. Lake, saying the last thing as she
+ran down the steps, “I’ll come and study German
+if I can’t find any thing better to do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In all the talks afterward, Sue never alluded to
+this night; it was the only part of her life that she
+wished Tessa to forget; she herself forgot every
+thing except that she was miserable about Mr.
+Ralph and two of the lines in the story that she
+had laughed about and called as “stupid” as her
+own life:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“The&nbsp;&nbsp;room&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;which&nbsp;&nbsp;she&nbsp;&nbsp;lived&nbsp;&nbsp;alone,&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;carpeted&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;matting;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;spent&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;hours,&nbsp;&nbsp;she&nbsp;&nbsp;spent&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;days,&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;making&nbsp;&nbsp;yards&nbsp;&nbsp;of<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;tatting.”<br />
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span><a name='ch6' id='ch6'></a>VI.—ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY.</h2>
+<p>
+“Miss Jewett.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, dear.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was sitting on the carpet in Miss Jewett’s
+little parlor with her head in Miss Jewett’s lap;
+Miss Jewett had been smoothing the girl’s hair for
+several minutes, neither speaking.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have lost something; I don’t dare try to find
+it for fear that God has taken it away from me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How did you lose it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa raised her head, paused, then spoke impressively:
+“I lost it through <em>carefulness</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ah! I have heard of such a thing before.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, have you? Is any one in the world like
+me? I thought that no one ever made such mistakes
+as I do, or needed the discipline that I need!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My dear, all hearts are fashioned alike.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But all lives are not alike.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not so different as you imagine; in my girls I
+live over my old struggles, longings, mistakes; in
+the history of lives lived ages ago I find the same
+struggles, longings, mistakes, the same need of the
+same discipline.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, if you can help me; if you can only help
+me! You study the Bible, isn’t every thing in the
+Bible? Didn’t Paul mean that every thing was in
+it when he said that through the comfort of the
+Scriptures we have hope? I can not find any
+thing to suit me; <em>you</em> find something.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The gaslight was more than she could bear, she
+dropped her head again, covering her face with
+both hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Suppose you tell me all about it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>All about it</em>,” repeated Tessa in a muffled tone.
+“I could not if I wanted to; but I can tell you
+where the despair comes in.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is all I want to know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well,” raising her head again and speaking
+clearly and slowly. “It was an opportunity to get
+something that I wanted. I thought I had it, I
+thought it was laid in my hand and I had but to
+clasp my fingers tightly over it to keep it forever
+and forever; I cared so much that I hardly cared for
+any thing else. I do not think that I would lose it
+again through caring too much. Do you think that
+it is just as hard for God to see us too careful as too
+careless?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How were you too careful?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, in being wise and doing things in my own
+way. What I want to know is this: did He ever
+give any body another opportunity? If He ever
+did, I will hope that He will be just as tender
+towards me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Christ came down to earth to seek the lost; a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span>
+lost opportunity is one of the things that He came
+to find. I think if you seek it for His sake, and
+not for your own, that He will find it for you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“For His sake, not for mine,” repeated Tessa,
+wonderingly. “How can I ever attain to that? I
+am very selfish.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you remember about David, whose heart
+was fashioned like yours, how careful he was once
+and what happened?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett was speaking in her brisk, working
+voice; the troubled face had become alight.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now we will read about one who made a sorry
+mistake by being so careful that he forgot to find
+out God’s way of doing a certain thing. He did
+the thing that he wanted to do after a style of his
+own.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa arose and went into Miss Jewett’s bedroom;
+she knew that the Bible she loved best, the
+one pencilled and interlined, was always kept on a
+stand near the head of her bed. While Miss Jewett
+was opening it, Tessa said hurriedly and earnestly
+“I knew that if it were anywhere in the Bible—that
+if any one in the world had suffered like me—that
+you would know where to find them. You
+said last Sunday that God had written something
+to help us in every perplexity; but I studied and
+studied and could not find any thing about second
+opportunities. Perhaps mine is only a foolish little
+trouble; not a grand one like David’s.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you think that God likes to hear you say
+that?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No,” confessed Tessa. “I will not even think
+it again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have you forgotten how David attempted to
+bring the Ark into the city of David, and how he
+failed? What a mortifying and distressing failure
+it was, too. Now I’ll read it to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+One of Tessa’s pleasures was to listen to her reading
+the Bible; she read as if David lived across the
+Park, and as if the city of David were not a mile
+away.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa kept her head in its old position and listened
+with intent and longing eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘And David consulted with the captains of
+thousands and hundreds and every leader. And
+David said unto all the congregation of Israel, If
+it seem good unto you, and that it be of the Lord
+our God, let us send abroad unto our brethren
+everywhere, that are left in all the land of Israel,
+and with them also to the priests and Levites
+which are in their cities and suburbs, that they
+may gather themselves together unto us: and let
+us bring again the Ark of our God to us: for we
+inquired not at it in the days of Saul. And all the
+congregation said that they would do so: for the
+thing was right in the eyes of all the people. So
+David gathered all Israel together from Shihor of
+Egypt even unto the entering of Hemath, to bring
+the Ark of God from Kirjath-jearim. And David
+went up and all Israel to Baalah, that is to Kirjath-jearim,
+which belonged to Judah, to bring up
+thence the Ark of God the Lord, that dwelleth between
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span>
+the cherubim whose name is called on it.
+And they carried the Ark of God in a new cart—’ In
+a <em>new</em> cart, Tessa; see how careful he was!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘—Out of the house of Abinadab; and Uzza
+and Ahir drave the cart.’ That was all right and
+proper, wasn’t it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It seems so to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘And David and all Israel played before God
+with all their might, and with singing, and with
+harps, and with timbrels, and with cymbals, and
+with trumpets.’ They were joyful with all their
+might. Were you as joyful as that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes: fully as joyful as that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now see the confusion, the shame, and the fear
+that followed those harps and timbrels and trumpets.
+‘And when they came unto the threshing-floor
+of Chidon, Uzza put forth his hand to hold
+the Ark; for the oxen stumbled. And the anger
+of the Lord was kindled against Uzza, and He
+smote him, because he put his hand to the Ark:
+and he died before God. And David was displeased,
+because the Lord had made a breach upon
+Uzza: wherefore that place is called Perez-uzza, to
+this day. And David was afraid of God that day,
+saying, How shall I bring the Ark of God home
+to me?’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I should think that he <em>would</em> have been afraid,”
+said Tessa; “and after he had been so sure and joyful,
+too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett read on: “‘So David brought not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span>
+the Ark home to himself to the city of David, but
+carried it aside to the house of Obed-edom the
+Gittite.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa raised her head to speak. “I can not
+understand where his mistake was; how could he
+have been too careful of such a treasure. Oh, how
+terrible and humiliating his disappointment must
+have been! How ashamed he was before all the
+people! I can bear any thing better than to be
+humiliated.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My poor, proud Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s tears started at the tone; these first words
+of sympathy overcame her utterly; she dropped her
+head again and cried like a child, like the little
+child Tessa who had had so many fits of crying.
+</p>
+<p>
+The eyes above her were as wet as her own;
+once or twice warm lips touched her forehead and
+cheek.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did <em>he</em> have another opportunity?” asked Tessa,
+at last. “I can understand how afraid he was. I
+was troubled because I gave thanks for the thing
+that was taken away from me. Did he find an
+answer to his ‘How’?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He was thankful, sincere, and careful.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I should think that was enough,” exclaimed
+Tessa, almost indignantly; “but I know that there
+was sin somewhere, else the anger of the Lord
+would not have been kindled. They went home
+without the Ark. That is saddest of all.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It was kept three months in the house of Obed-edom,
+and during those three months humbled David studied
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span>
+the law and found that his cart, new as
+it was, was not according to the will of God.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘Then David said, None ought to carry the Ark
+of God but the Levites; for them hath the Lord
+chosen to carry the Ark of God, and to minister
+unto Him forever.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And he <em>could</em> have known that before,” cried
+Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘And David gathered all Israel together to
+Jerusalem, to bring up the Ark of the Lord unto
+his place, which he had prepared for it, and David
+assembled the children of Aaron and the Levites and
+said unto them, Ye are the
+chief of the fathers of the Levites: sanctify yourselves,
+both ye and your brethren, that ye may
+bring up the Ark of the Lord God of Israel unto
+the place that I have prepared for it. For because
+ye did it not at the first, the Lord our God made
+a breach upon us, for that we sought Him not
+after the due order.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, how can we know every thing to do at the
+first?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How could David have known? Now he had
+found the right way to do the right thing. ‘So
+the priests and the Levites sanctified themselves
+to bring up the Ark of the Lord God of Israel. And
+the children of the Levites bare the Ark of God
+upon their shoulders with the staves thereon as
+Moses commanded, according to the word of the
+Lord. And David spake to the chief of the Levites
+to appoint their brethren to be the singers with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span>
+instruments of music, psalteries and harps and
+cymbals, sounding, by lifting up the voice with
+joy. So David, and the elders of Israel, and the
+captains over thousands, went to bring up the Ark
+of the covenant of the Lord out of the house of
+Obed-edom with joy.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He was not afraid now,” said Tessa. “I think
+that he was all the more joyful because he had
+been so humiliated and afraid. I will think about
+that new cart.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And those three months in which he was finding
+out the will of God. ‘And it came to pass,
+when God helped the Levites that bare the Ark of
+the covenant of the Lord that they offered seven
+bullocks and seven rams.’ He could not help them
+the first time because their way was not according
+to His law; their joy, their thankfulness, their sincerity,
+their carefulness availed them nothing because
+they kept not His law. Uzza was a priest
+and should have known the law; David was king
+and he should have known the law.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But he had his second opportunity, despite his
+mistake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And so, if your desire be according to His will
+may you have yours; it may be months or years,
+half your lifetime, but if you study His word and
+ask for your second opportunity through the intercession
+of Christ, I am sure that you will
+have it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sometimes I am angry, sometimes bewildered,
+sometimes there is hatred in my heart because I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span>
+have been deceived and humiliated—sometimes I
+do not want it back—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My dear,” said Miss Jewett, gravely, “discipline
+is better than our heart’s desire.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is it? I don’t like to think so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+When the clock in the church-tower struck midnight
+Tessa lay awake wondering if she could ever
+choose discipline before any heart’s desire.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then she crept closer to Miss Jewett and kissed
+her.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span><a name='ch7' id='ch7'></a>VII.—THE LONG DAY.</h2>
+<p>
+With the apple blossoms came Tessa’s birthday.
+She had lived twenty-five years up-stairs and down-stairs
+in that white house with the lilac shrubbery
+and low iron fence. Twenty-five years with her
+father and mother, nineteen with her little sister,
+and almost as many with her old friend, Mr. Hammerton;
+twenty years with Laura and Felix and
+Miss Jewett, and not quite three years with the
+latest friend, the latest and the one that she had
+most believed in, Ralph Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was counting these years and these friends
+as she brushed out her long, light hair and looked
+into the reflection of the fair, bright, thoughtful
+face that had come to another birthday.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nothing would ever happen to her again, she
+was sure; nothing ever did happen after one were
+as old as twenty-five. In novels, all the wonderful
+events occurred in earlier life, and then—a blank
+or bliss or misery, any thing that the reader might
+guess.
+</p>
+<p>
+Would her life henceforth be a blank because
+she was so old and was growing older?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+In one of her stories, Miss Mulock had stated
+that the experience of love had been given to
+her heroine “later than to most” and <em>she</em> was
+twenty-four!
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not that that experience is all one’s life,” she
+mused; “but it is just as much to me as it is to
+any man or woman that ever lived; as much as to
+Cornelia, the matron with her jewels, or Vittoria
+Colonna, or Mrs. Browning, or Hypatia,—if she ever
+loved any body,—or Miss Jewett,—if she ever did,—or
+Sue Greyson, or Queen Victoria, or Ralph Towne’s
+mother! I wonder if his father were like him, so
+handsome and gentle. I have a right to the pain
+and the blessedness of loving; perhaps I <em>have</em> been
+in love—perhaps I am now! He shut the door
+that he had opened and he has gone out; I would
+not recall him if I could do it with one breath—
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘No&nbsp;&nbsp;harm&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;&nbsp;him&nbsp;&nbsp;can&nbsp;&nbsp;come&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;me<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;On&nbsp;&nbsp;ocean&nbsp;&nbsp;or&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;shore.’<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well,” smiling into the sympathetic eyes, “if
+nothing new ever happen to me, I’ll find out all the
+blessedness of the old.”
+</p>
+<p>
+For she must always find something to be glad
+of before she could be sorrowful about any thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+She ran down-stairs in her airiest mood to be
+congratulated by her father in a humorous speech
+that ended with an unfinished sentence and a
+quick turning of the head, to be squeezed and
+hugged and kissed by Dinah, and dubbed Miss
+Twenty-Five, and then to have her mood changed,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span>
+all in the past made dreary, and all in the future
+desolate, by one of her mother’s harangues.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Wadsworth had kissed his three girls and
+hurried off to his business, as he had done in all the
+years that Tessa could remember; Dinah had pushed
+her plate away and was leaning forward with her
+elbows on the table-cloth, her face alight with the
+mischief of teasing Tessa about being “stricken in
+years.” Tessa’s repartees were sending Dinah off
+into her little shouts of laughter when their mother’s
+voice broke in:
+</p>
+<p>
+“I had been married eight years when I was
+your age, Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It will be nine years on my next birthday,” said
+Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, just nine; for I was married on my seventeenth
+birthday; your father met me one day coming
+from school and said that he would call that
+evening; I curled my hair over and put on my garnet
+merino and waited for him an hour. I expected
+John Gesner, too. But your father came first and
+we set the wedding-day that night. I was seventeen
+and he was thirty-seven!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I congratulate you,” said Tessa. “I congratulate
+the woman who married my father.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Girls are so different,” sighed Mrs. Wadsworth.
+“Now <em>I</em> had two offers that year! Aunt Theresa
+wanted me to take John Gesner because he was
+two years younger than your father; but John
+was only a clerk in the Iron Works then, and so
+was Lewis. Lewis is just my age. How could
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span>
+I tell that he would make a fortune buying
+nails?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You would have hit the nail on the head if you
+had known it,” laughed Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And here’s Dine, now, <em>she</em> is like me. You
+are a Wadsworth through and through! Young
+men like some life about a girl; how many beaux
+Sue Greyson has! All you think of is education!
+There was Cliff Manning, you turned the cold
+shoulder to him because he couldn’t talk grammar.
+What’s grammar? Grammar won’t make the pot
+boil.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Enough of them would,” suggested Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mr. Towne came and came till he was tired, I
+suppose. I hope you didn’t refuse him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, he refused me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her tone was so gravely in earnest that her
+mother was staggered. Dinah shouted.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth went on in a voice that was
+gathering indignation: “You may laugh now; you
+will not always laugh. ‘He that will not when he
+may, when he will he shall have nay.’ Mrs. Sherwood
+told me yesterday that she hoped to have
+Nan Gerard back here for good, and Mary looked
+as if it were all settled. Mr. Towne did not do
+much <em>last</em> winter, Mary said, beside run around
+with Naughty Nan. I’m hearing all the time of
+somebody being married or engaged, and you are
+doing nothing but shilly-shally over some book or
+trotting around after poor folks with Miss Jewett.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She will find a prince in a hovel some day,”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span>
+said Dinah. “He will be struck with her attitude as
+she is choking some bed-ridden woman with beef-tea
+and fall down on his knees and propose on the
+spot. ‘Feed me, seraph,’ he will cry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He wouldn’t talk grammar, or he couldn’t spell
+or read Greek, and she will turn away,” laughed
+Mrs. Wadsworth. “Tessa, you are none of my
+bringing up.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is true,” replied Tessa, the sorrowfulness
+of the tone softening its curtness.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You always <em>did</em> care for something in a book
+more than for what I said! You never do any
+thing to please people; and yet, somehow, somebody
+always <em>is</em> running after you. I wish that
+you <em>could</em> go out into the world and get a little
+character; you are no more capable of self-denial
+and heroism than an infant baby; for getting along
+in the world and making a good match, I would
+rather have Sue Greyson’s skin—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Her father understands anatomy, perhaps you
+can get it, mother.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>She</em> knows how to look out for number one.
+Her children will be settled in life before Tessa is
+engaged. You needn’t laugh, Dine, it’s her birthday,
+and I’m only doing a mother’s duty to her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s eyes laughed although her lips were still.
+Her sense of humor helped her to bear many things
+in her life.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have never had a trial in your life, Tessa,
+and here you are old enough to be a wife and
+mother!”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“If she lived in China she could be a grandmother,”
+said Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have always kept trouble from you; that is
+why, at your mature age, you have so little character.
+In an emergency you would have no more
+responsibility than Nellie Bird. If you had studied
+arithmetic instead of always writing poetry and
+compositions, you might have been teaching now
+and have been independent.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Father isn’t tired of taking care of her,” said
+Dinah, spiritedly. “It’s mean for you to say that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why don’t you write a novel and make some
+money?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know how.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can’t you learn?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I study all the time.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why don’t you write flowery language?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know how.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is Gus that has spoiled you; he has nipped
+your genius in the bud. What does he know, a
+clerk in a bank? I know that he tells you to leave
+out the long words; and it is the long words that
+take. I shouldn’t have had my dreadful cough
+winter after winter if I hadn’t worked hard to
+spare your time that winter you wrote those three
+little books for the Sunday School Union; I lay all
+my sickness and pain to that winter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs Wadsworth had brought this charge against
+Tessa several times before, but she had never shivered
+over it as she did this birthday morning.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And what did you get for them? Only a hundred
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span>
+dollars for the three. Your father made a
+great fuss over them, and he really cried (his tears
+come very easy) over that piece you called ‘Making
+Mistakes.’ I couldn’t see any thing to cry over;
+I thought you made out that making mistakes was
+a very fine thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Four people from away off have written to
+thank her, any way,” exulted Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“People like your father I suppose.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah sprang up and began to rattle the cups
+and saucers; she could not bear the look in Tessa’s
+eyes another second.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dinah, I can’t talk if you make so much noise.
+You are very rude.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” cried Dinah, standing
+still with two cups in her hands. “It’s great fun!
+Nan Gerard refused Mr. John Gesner while she
+was here.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t believe it,” exclaimed Mrs Wadsworth.
+“Those brothers are worth nearly a million.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Naughty Nan didn’t care.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She’ll jump out of the frying-pan into the fire,
+then; for the Townes, mother and son, are not
+worth a quarter of it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What does she care? Mr. Lewis Gesner is a
+gentleman, and he knows something.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He said once that I was only a little doll,”
+said Mrs. Wadsworth. “I never liked him afterward.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I like him,” said Dinah; “he doesn’t flirt with
+the girls; he always talks to the old ladies.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“What are you going to do to-day, Tessa?” inquired
+Mrs. Wadsworth, ignoring Dinah’s remark.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered, “and don’t
+care” was the unspoken addition.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was one thing she was sure to do. On
+her way to the ten o’clock mail she would take a
+moment with Miss Jewett for a word, a look; for
+something to set her heart to beating to a cheerier
+tune. Ten minutes before mail time she found
+Miss Jewett as busy as a bee.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Tessa,” glancing up from her desk, “I knew
+you would come. I had a good crying spell on
+my twenty-fifth birthday and I’ve looked through
+clear eyes ever since. I wish for you that your
+second quarter may be as full of hard work as
+mine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa felt as if the sun were shining warm again.
+At the office she received her birthday present; the
+one thing that she most wished for; if ever birthday
+face were in a glow and birthday heart set to
+dancing, hers were when her fingers held the check
+for one hundred and sixty-eight dollars and fifty
+cents, and when her eyes ran through the brief,
+friendly letter, with its two lines of praise.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am taken with your book. It gives me a
+humbling-down feeling. I hardly know why.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, it’s too good! it’s too good,” she cried, with
+her head close to Miss Jewett’s at the desk over the
+large day-book. “I was feeling as if nobody cared,
+and now he wants another book. As good as this,
+he says.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa lived in fairy-land for the next two hours.
+No, she lived in Dunellen on a happy birthday.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well! well! well!” exclaimed her father, taking
+off his spectacles to wipe his eyes, “this is
+what I call fine. So this is what you grew pale
+over last winter,” he added, looking down into a
+face as rosy and wide awake as a child’s waking
+out of sleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What shall you do with so much money?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Spend it, of course. I have spent it already a
+hundred times.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You must return receipt and reply to the letter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I had forgotten that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will find every thing on my desk. Write
+your name on the back of the check and I will
+give you the money.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t want to do that. I want to take it into
+the bank and surprise Gus with it. His face will
+be worth another check.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She wrote her name upon the check, her father
+standing beside her. Theresa L. Wadsworth. He
+was very proud of this name among his three
+girls.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you expect to do this thing again?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do. Many times. All I want is a nook and
+a lead pencil.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Daughter, I would like something else better.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wouldn’t. Nothing else. I shall not change
+my mind even for a knight in helmet and helmet
+feather.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton’s face <em>was</em> worth another check;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span>
+he looked down at her from his high stool in a
+grave, paternal fashion. She remained decorously
+silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+“How women <em>do</em> like to spend money,” he
+said. “At six o’clock you will not have a penny
+left.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How can I? Father is to have a farm in Mayfield,
+mother is to go to Europe, and Dine is to have
+diamond ear-rings!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And I?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will buy you a month to go fishing! And
+myself brains enough to write a better book. Isn’t
+it comical for me to get more for my book than
+Milton got for Paradise Lost?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa laughed as she counted her money at tea-time;
+there was a twenty dollar bill and seventy-five
+cents! But in her mother’s chamber stood a
+suite of black-walnut with marble tops, in one of
+Dine’s drawers, materials for a black and white
+striped silk, on the sitting-room table a copy of
+Shakespeare in three Turkey morocco volumes, for
+her father; she had also sent a gold thimble to Sue
+Greyson, several volumes of Ruskin to Mr. Hammerton,
+Barnes on <em>Job</em> to Miss Jewett, and had purchased
+a ream of foolscap, a pint of ink, a pair of
+gloves, and <em>The Scarlet Letter</em> for herself!
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is there any thing left in the world that you
+want?” her father asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, but twenty dollars will not buy it,” she
+replied, thinking of Dr. Lake’s anxious face as she
+had seen it that day.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+At night, alone in the darkness, there were a few
+tears that no one would ever know about. Her joy
+in her accepted work was nothing to Ralph Towne.
+He did not know about her book and if he knew—would
+he care?
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span><a name='ch8' id='ch8'></a>VIII.—A NOTE OUT OF TUNE.</h2>
+<p>
+The blossom storm came and blew away the apple
+blossoms, the heavy fragrance of the lilacs died,
+and the shrubbery became again only a mass of
+green leaves and ugly, crooked stems; but amid
+this, something happened to Tessa; something that
+was worth as much to her as any happenings that
+came before it; something that had its beginning
+when she was a little school-girl running along the
+planks and teasing Felix Harrison. How much certain
+jarring words spoken that day and how much
+a certain bit of news influenced this happening,
+she, in her rigid self-analysis, could not determine!
+</p>
+<p>
+She arose from the breakfast table at the same
+instant with her father, saying: “Father, I will
+walk to the corner with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We were two souls with one thought,” he replied.
+“I intended to ask you for a few minutes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+They crossed the street to the planks. She
+slipped her arm through his, and as he took the
+fingers on his arm with a warm grasp, she said; “I
+never want any lover but you, my dear old father.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nonsense, child! Only girls who have had a
+heart-break say such things to their old fathers,
+and your heart is as good as new, I am sure.
+Tessa, I want to see you married before I die.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“May you live till you see me married,” she
+answered merrily. “What an old mummy you
+will be!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been thinking of something that I want
+to say to you. I am an old man and I am not
+young for my age—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now, father.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I may live a hundred years, of course, and
+grow heartier each year, and like the ‘frisky old
+girl,’ die at the age of one hundred and ten, and
+‘die by a fall from a cherry-tree then,’ but, still
+there’s a chance that I may not. And now, Daughter
+Tessa”—his voice became as grave as her eyes,
+“I want you to promise me that you will always
+take care of your poor little mother; poor little
+mother! You are never sharp to her like saucy
+Dine, and she rests in you like an acorn in an acorn
+cup, although she would be the last to confess it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I promise to do my best,” Tessa said very
+earnestly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But that is only a part of it. Promise me that
+if she wishes to marry again, and her choice be one
+that <em>you</em> approve—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Approve!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Approve,” he repeated, “that you will not hinder
+but rather further it, and keep Dine from making
+her unhappy about it.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not promise. You shall not die,” she
+cried passionately. “How can you talk so and
+break my heart?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dr. Watts says that we all begin to die as soon
+as we are born, so I have had to do it pretty thoroughly;
+but he was a theologian and not a medical
+man. Have you promised?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, sir,” speaking very quietly, “I have promised.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With her hand upon his arm, they kept even
+step for ten silent minutes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you writing again?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, sir.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you must walk every day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I do, rain or shine. I am going down the
+road this afternoon to look at the wheat fields and
+the oat fields and to see the boys and girls dropping
+corn!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And to wish that you were a little girl dropping
+corn?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, indeed,” she said earnestly and solemnly.
+“I like my own life better than any life I ever knew
+in a book or out of a book.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“When I count up my mercies I’ll remember
+that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was dwelling upon those words of her father
+late that afternoon as she sauntered homeward with
+her hands full of wild flowers and grasses.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mystic, will you ride with me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+A feeling of warmth and of tenderness ever crept
+into her heart at the sound of this voice.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+She loved Dr. Lake.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, sir, thank you; I am out for a walk and
+when I walk I never ride.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I want to talk to you—to tell you something.”
+She stepped nearer and stood at the carriage
+wheel; his voice was sharp and his white
+temples hollow. “Sue has refused me,” he began
+with a laugh. “I proposed last night, and what do
+you think she said? ‘Why, Dr. Lake, you are poor,
+and you smell of medicine.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They are both true,” she said, not conscious of
+what reply she was making.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” he answered bitterly, “they are both true
+and will <em>be</em> true until the end of time. Don’t you
+think that you could reason with her and change
+her mind; you have influence.” He laid his gloved
+hand on the hand that rested on the wheel. “It
+will kill me, Mystic, if she doesn’t marry me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+So weak, so pitiful! She could have cried. And
+all for love of flighty Sue Greyson!
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was sure that she would accept me. She has
+done every thing <em>but</em> accept me. I did not know
+that a woman would permit a man to take her day
+after day into his arms and kiss her unless she intended
+to marry him. Would <em>you</em> permit that?” he
+asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know that I would not,” she answered
+proudly; “but Sue doesn’t know any better; all
+she cares for is the ‘fun’ of the moment.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been hoping so long; since Towne went
+away; I can’t bear this.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“There is as much strength for you as for any
+of us,” she said gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I am too weak to hold it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+And he looked too weak to hold it. She could
+not lift her full eyes. “I am so sorry,” was all she
+could speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There isn’t any thing worth living for anyway;
+I, for one, am not thankful for my ‘creation.’ I
+wish I was dead and buried and out of sight forever.
+Sue Greyson has another offer to whisper to
+all Dunellen. I would not stay here, I would go
+back to that wretched hospital, but my engagement
+with her father extends through another year.
+Well, you won’t ride home with me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not to-day, I want to be out in this air.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you don’t want to be shut in here with
+my growling. I don’t blame you; I’d run away
+from myself if I could. I’ll kill half Dunellen and
+all Mayfield with overdoses before another night,
+and then take a big dose myself. Say, Mystic, you
+are posted in these things, where would be the
+harm?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Take it and see.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not yet awhile. I am not sure of many things,
+but I <em>am</em> sure that a man’s life in this world will
+stare in his face in the next. And my life has not
+been fit even for your eyes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Homely, shabby, old, worn, excited, with a sharp
+ring in his voice and a stoop in his shoulders.
+What was there in him to touch Sue Greyson?
+Where was the first point of sympathy?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa could have taken him into her arms and
+cared for him as she would have cared for a child.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have just seen an old man die; a good old
+man; he was over ninety; he prayed to the last;
+that is his lips moved and his old wife laid his
+hands together; he liked to clasp his hands when
+he prayed, she said. She put her ear down close
+to his mouth, but she could not distinguish the
+words. I was wishing that I could go in his
+place, and that he could take up my life and live
+it through for me. He would do better with it
+than I shall.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is not that rather selfish?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Life is such a sham. I don’t believe in the
+transmigration of souls; I don’t want to come back
+and pull through another miserable existence.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I want you to stay this soul in this body; I do
+not want to lose you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If every woman in the world were like you—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And every man were as tired and hungry as
+you—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What would he do?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He would hurry home to a good, hot dinner.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have not eaten or drank since yesterday morning.
+Sue has a hot dinner waiting for me. She
+will sit with me while I eat, and tell me, perhaps,
+that she has had a letter from that fellow in Philadelphia,
+or that that well-preserved specimen of
+manhood, old John Gesner, has asked her to drive
+with him. Some flirtation of hers is sauce to every
+dish.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Poor Sue,” sighed Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She might be happy if she would; I would take
+care of her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good-by,” squeezing his fingers through his
+glove. “Go home and eat.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Give me a good word before I go.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wait.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is that the best word you know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is good enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, good day, Mystic,” he said, lifting his hat.
+</p>
+<p>
+She went back to the grassy wayside, thinking.
+What right had Sue Greyson’s light fingers to meddle
+with a life like Dr. Lake’s? They had not one
+taste in common. How could he find her attractive?
+She disliked every thing in which he was interested;
+it was true that she could sing, sing like
+one of the wild birds down in the woods, and he
+loved music.
+</p>
+<p>
+She paused and stood leaning against the rails
+of a fence, and looked across the green acres of
+winter wheat; one day in September she had stood
+there watching the men as they were drilling the
+wheat; afterward she had seen the tender, green
+blades springing up in straight rows, and once she
+had seen the whole field green beneath a light
+snow. The wind moved her veil slightly, both
+hands were drooping as her elbows leaned upon
+the upper rail, her cheeks were tinged with the
+excitement of Dr. Lake’s words, and her eyes suffused
+with a mist that was too sorrowful to drop
+with tears. A quick step on the grass at her side
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span>
+did not startle her; she did not stir until a voice
+propounded gravely: “If a man should be born
+with two heads, on which forehead must he wear
+the phylactery?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She turned with a laugh. “Gus, I would know
+that was you if I heard the voice and the question
+in the Great Desert.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can’t you decide?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My thoughts were not nonsense.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course not, you were labelling and pigeon
+holing all that you have thought of since sunrise!
+I’ve been sitting on a stone waiting for your conference
+to end. Are you in the habit of meeting
+strange men and conversing with them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I came out to meet you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I only wish you did! I wish that you would
+make a stranger of me and be polite to me. It is
+nothing new for you to be wandering on a Saturday
+afternoon, and nothing new for you to find me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I didn’t find you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I intended to give you the honor of the discovery;
+now we will share the glory. Shall we
+go on?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been to my roots; do you know my
+roots? Do you know the corner above Old Place
+and the tiny stream?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know every corner, and every root, and every
+stream. Shall I carry your flowers for you? I
+never can see why I should relieve a maiden of a
+burden when her avoirdupois equals mine. You
+will not give them to me? I have something to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span>
+read to you—something of my own composing—I
+composed it in one brilliant wakeful moment—you
+will appreciate it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not believe it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wait until you hear it. Lady Blue, are you
+going to be literary and never be married! Woe
+to the day when I taught you all you know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+They went on, slowly, for she liked to talk to
+Mr. Hammerton. “Father said something like that
+this morning and it troubled me; why may I not
+do as I like best? Why should he care to see me
+married before he dies?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why should he not?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nonsense. I can take good care of myself; beside,”
+with a mischievous glance into his serious
+eyes, “I really don’t know whom to marry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you could easily find some one. If all else
+fail, come to me, and if I am not too busy I will
+take you into consideration.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thanks, good friend! But you will always be
+too busy. What have you to read to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Something that you will appreciate. I wrote
+it for you. Stay, sit down, while I read it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t want to. You can read and walk. The
+mother of Mrs. Hemans could read aloud while
+walking up hill.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton’s voice was not pleasant to a
+stranger, but Tessa liked it because it belonged to
+him; it was a part of him like his big nose, his
+spectacles, and the tiny bald spot over which, every
+day, he carefully brushed his hair. The color in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span>
+his cheeks was as pretty as a girl’s, and so was the
+delicate whiteness of his forehead; the bushy mustache,
+however, made amends for the complexion
+that he sometimes regretted; Tessa had once told
+him that his big nose, his mustache, and his awkwardness
+were all that kept him from being as
+pretty as his sister.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not the mother of Mrs. Hemans.” He
+took a sheet of paper from his pocket-book, and
+showed her the poem written in his peculiarly plain,
+upright hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Excuse my singing and I will read. You must
+not think of any thing else.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are walking too fast.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She obediently took slower steps.
+</p>
+<p>
+He cleared his throat and, holding the paper near
+his eyes, began to read. A shadow gathered in his
+listener’s eyes at the first four lines.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“A&nbsp;&nbsp;nightingale&nbsp;&nbsp;made&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;mistake;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;sang&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;few&nbsp;&nbsp;notes&nbsp;&nbsp;out&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;tune,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her&nbsp;&nbsp;heart&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;ready&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;break,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;she&nbsp;&nbsp;hid&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;moon.<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“She&nbsp;&nbsp;wrung&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;claws,&nbsp;&nbsp;poor&nbsp;&nbsp;thing,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;far&nbsp;&nbsp;too&nbsp;&nbsp;proud&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;speak;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;tucked&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;head&nbsp;&nbsp;under&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;wing,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;pretended&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;be&nbsp;&nbsp;asleep.<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“A&nbsp;&nbsp;lark&nbsp;&nbsp;arm&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;arm&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;thrush,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Came&nbsp;&nbsp;sauntering&nbsp;&nbsp;up&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;place;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The&nbsp;&nbsp;nightingale&nbsp;&nbsp;felt&nbsp;&nbsp;herself&nbsp;&nbsp;blush,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Though&nbsp;&nbsp;feathers&nbsp;&nbsp;hid&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;face.<br />
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span>
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“She&nbsp;&nbsp;knew&nbsp;&nbsp;they&nbsp;&nbsp;had&nbsp;&nbsp;heard&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;song,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;felt&nbsp;&nbsp;them&nbsp;&nbsp;snicker&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;sneer.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;thought&nbsp;&nbsp;this&nbsp;&nbsp;life&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;too&nbsp;&nbsp;long,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;wished&nbsp;&nbsp;she&nbsp;&nbsp;could&nbsp;&nbsp;skip&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;year.<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘O,&nbsp;&nbsp;nightingale!’&nbsp;&nbsp;cooed&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;dove,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;O,&nbsp;&nbsp;nightingale,&nbsp;&nbsp;what’s&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;use;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You&nbsp;&nbsp;bird&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;beauty&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;love,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Why&nbsp;&nbsp;behave&nbsp;&nbsp;like&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;goose?<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Don’t&nbsp;&nbsp;skulk&nbsp;&nbsp;away&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;&nbsp;our&nbsp;&nbsp;sight,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Like&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;common,&nbsp;&nbsp;contemptible&nbsp;&nbsp;fowl;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You&nbsp;&nbsp;bird&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;joy&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;delight,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Why&nbsp;&nbsp;behave&nbsp;&nbsp;like&nbsp;&nbsp;an&nbsp;&nbsp;owl?<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Only&nbsp;&nbsp;think&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;all&nbsp;&nbsp;you&nbsp;&nbsp;have&nbsp;&nbsp;done;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Only&nbsp;&nbsp;think&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;all&nbsp;&nbsp;you&nbsp;&nbsp;can&nbsp;&nbsp;do;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A&nbsp;&nbsp;false&nbsp;&nbsp;note&nbsp;&nbsp;is&nbsp;&nbsp;really&nbsp;&nbsp;fun<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;From&nbsp;&nbsp;such&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;bird&nbsp;&nbsp;as&nbsp;&nbsp;you.<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Lift&nbsp;&nbsp;up&nbsp;&nbsp;your&nbsp;&nbsp;proud&nbsp;&nbsp;little&nbsp;&nbsp;crest:<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Open&nbsp;&nbsp;your&nbsp;&nbsp;musical&nbsp;&nbsp;beak;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Other&nbsp;&nbsp;birds&nbsp;&nbsp;have&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;do&nbsp;&nbsp;their&nbsp;&nbsp;best,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;You&nbsp;&nbsp;need&nbsp;&nbsp;only&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;speak.’<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“The&nbsp;&nbsp;nightingale&nbsp;&nbsp;shyly&nbsp;&nbsp;took<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her&nbsp;&nbsp;head&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;&nbsp;under&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;wing,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;giving&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;dove&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;look,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Straightway&nbsp;&nbsp;began&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;sing.<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“There&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;never&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;bird&nbsp;&nbsp;could&nbsp;&nbsp;pass;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The&nbsp;&nbsp;night&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;divinely&nbsp;&nbsp;calm;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;people&nbsp;&nbsp;stood&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;grass,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;To&nbsp;&nbsp;hear&nbsp;&nbsp;that&nbsp;&nbsp;wonderful&nbsp;&nbsp;psalm!<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“The&nbsp;&nbsp;nightingale&nbsp;&nbsp;did&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;care,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;only&nbsp;&nbsp;sang&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;skies;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her&nbsp;&nbsp;song&nbsp;&nbsp;ascended&nbsp;&nbsp;there,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;there&nbsp;&nbsp;she&nbsp;&nbsp;fixed&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;eyes.<br />
+</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span></div>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“The&nbsp;&nbsp;people&nbsp;&nbsp;that&nbsp;&nbsp;stood&nbsp;&nbsp;below<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;knew&nbsp;&nbsp;but&nbsp;&nbsp;little&nbsp;&nbsp;about;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;this&nbsp;&nbsp;story’s&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;moral,&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;know,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;If&nbsp;&nbsp;you’ll&nbsp;&nbsp;try&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;find&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;out.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“How did you know that I need that?” she
+asked, taking it from his hand. “Who wrote it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I did.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t you know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No. I don’t know. I copied it for you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you. I thank you very much. You
+could not have brought me any thing better.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I brought you a piece of news, too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“As good as the poem?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nan Gerard thinks so. She is to be married
+and to live at Old Place; our castle in the air.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Old Place isn’t my castle in the air. Who told
+you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A woman’s question. I never told a woman a
+secret yet that she did not reply, ‘Who told you?’
+Mary Sherwood told me, of course. Do you congratulate
+Naughty Nan?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Must I?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s queer that I do not know that man. I
+have missed an introduction a thousand times.
+Do you congratulate her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am supposed to congratulate <em>him</em>. He is
+very lovable.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought that only women were that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s an admission,” laughed Tessa, “you
+cross old bachelor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You learned that from Dine.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I learned it from you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa talked rapidly and lightly, perhaps, because
+she did not feel like talking at all.
+</p>
+<p>
+Would he marry Nan Gerard? Why could she
+not be glad for Nan Gerard? Why must she be
+just a little sorry for herself? Why must it make
+a difference to her? Why must the weight of the
+flowers be too heavy for her hand, and why must
+she give them that toss over a fence across a field?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your pretty flowers,” expostulated Mr. Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not care for them; they were withering.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have a thought; I wonder why it should
+come to me; I am wondering if you and I walk
+together here a year from to-day what we shall
+be talking about. My prophetic soul reveals to
+me that a year makes a difference sometimes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I remember a year ago to-day,” she answered.
+“A year <em>has</em> made a difference.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not to you or me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“To Nan Gerard?” she answered seriously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“But that does not affect us.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Did it not? A year ago to-day Ralph Towne
+had brought her some English violets, and she had
+pressed them and thrown a thought about him
+and about them into a poem. To-day had he taken
+violets to Nan Gerard?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Lady Blue; you are absent-minded.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I? I was only labelling and pigeon-holing
+a thought; it is to be laid away to moulder
+with the dust of ages.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“A thought that can not be spoken?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A thought that it was folly to think, and that
+would be worse than folly to speak.”
+</p>
+<p>
+If he replied she did not hear; they sauntered
+on, she keeping the path and he walking on the
+grass.
+</p>
+<p>
+A carriage passed, driving slowly. The two ladies
+within watched the pedestrians,—a fair-faced
+girl with thoughtful eyes, and a tall man with an
+intellectual face,—as if they were a part of the landscape
+of the spring.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘In&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;spring&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;young&nbsp;&nbsp;man’s&nbsp;&nbsp;fancy—’”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+laughingly quoted one of them.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will she accept or refuse him?” asked the other.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If she do either it will be once and forever,”
+was the reply seriously given. “Did you notice her
+mouth? She has been very much troubled, but she
+can be made very glad.”
+</p>
+<p>
+After the carriage had passed, Mr. Hammerton
+spoke, “I am glad we amused those people; they
+failed to decide whether or not we are lovers.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They have very little penetration, then,” said
+Tessa. “I am too languid and you are too unconscious.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There is nothing further to be said; you do not
+know what you have nipped in the bud.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose we never know that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah met them at the gate, her wind-blown
+curls and laughing eyes in striking contrast to the
+older face that had lost all its color. Tessa did not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span>
+see that Mr. Hammerton’s eyes were studying the
+change in her face; she had no more care of the
+changes in her face with him than with Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ll be in about eight,” he said to Dinah, as Tessa
+brushed past him to enter the gate.
+</p>
+<p>
+Another thing that influenced impressible Tessa
+this day, was a talk at the tea-table. They were
+sitting around the tea-table cozily, the four people
+who, in her mother’s thought, constituted all Tessa’s
+world. Mr. Wadsworth in an easy position in his
+arm-chair was listening to his three girls and deciding
+that his little wife was really the handsomest
+and sprightliest woman that he had ever seen,
+that happy little Dine was as bewitching as she
+could well be, and that Tessa, the light of his eyes,
+was like no one else in all the world. Not that any
+stranger sitting in his arm-chair would have looked
+through his eyes, but he was an old man, disappointed
+in his life, and his three girls were all of
+earth and a part of heaven to him. They were all
+talking and he was satisfied to listen. “I believe
+that some girls are born without a mother’s heart,”
+Mrs. Wadsworth said in reply to a story of Dine’s
+about a young mother in Dunellen who had slapped
+her baby, saying that she hated it and was nothing
+but a slave to it! “Now, here’s Tessa. <em>She</em> has no
+motherliness. Only this morning Freddie Stone fell
+down near the gate and hurt his head; his screams
+were terrifying, but she went on working and let
+him scream. As I said it is all as girls are born.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” answered Tessa, in the deliberate way in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span>
+which she had schooled herself to reply to her
+mother, “I know that your last assertion is true.
+There was a lady in school, a teacher of mathematics,
+she acknowledged that she did not love her
+own little girls as other mothers seemed to do.
+She stated it as she would have stated any fact in
+geometry; perhaps she thought that she was no
+more responsible for one than for the other. The
+mere fact of motherhood does not bring mother
+love within; any mother that does not give to her
+child a true idea of the mother-heart of God fails
+utterly in being a mother. She may be a nurse, a
+paid nurse, or a nurse upon compulsion; any hired
+nurse can wash a child’s face, can tie its sash and
+make pretty things for it to wear, and <em>any</em> nurse,
+who was never mother to a child, can teach it what
+God means when He says, ‘as a mother comforteth.’
+Miss Jewett could not be happier in her Bible class
+girls if they were all her own children; she
+says so herself. Mary Sherwood said to her one
+day, ‘If my mother were like you, how different I
+should have been!’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Such a case is an exception,” returned Mrs.
+Wadsworth excitedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nineteen out of her twenty-three girls tell her
+their troubles when they would not tell their own
+mothers,” said Dinah. “She has twenty-three secret
+drawers to keep their secrets in.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She has time to listen to fol-de-rol. She advises
+them all to marry for some silly notion and
+let a good home slip, I’ve no doubt.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I expect that twenty-one of her girls have refused
+John Gesner,” laughed Mr. Wadsworth. “He
+will have to bribe Miss Jewett to let them alone.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Only twenty, father,” said Dine. “Tessa and
+Sue and I are waiting to do it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will make this house too uncomfortable for
+the one of you that does refuse him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mother! mother!” remonstrated Mr. Wadsworth
+gently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He’ll never have the honor,” said Dine. “Mr.
+Lewis Gesner is the gentleman; I have always admired
+him. Haven’t you, Tessa?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes; I like to shake hands with him; he has a
+trustworthy face.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So much for the mothers of Dunellen, Tessa;
+how about the fathers? Would the girls like to
+have Miss Jewett for a father, too?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, the fathers have the bread-winning to do.
+If the mothers do not understand, we can not expect
+the fathers to understand. There was a girl
+at school who had had a hard home experience;
+she told me that she never repeated the second
+word of the Lord’s prayer; that she said instead:
+Our Lord, who art in heaven?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, deary me! How dreadful!” cried Dinah,
+moving nearer the arm-chair and dropping her
+head on her father’s shoulder. “Didn’t she <em>ever</em>
+learn to say it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not while we were at school.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, you can talk,” said her mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” said Tessa, humbly, “I can talk.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“She was a very wicked girl,” continued Mrs.
+Wadsworth. “I don’t see how she dared; I should
+think that she would have been afraid of dying in
+her sleep as a judgment sent upon her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps she did not repeat the prayer as a
+charm,” answered Tessa, in her clearest tones.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah lifted her head to laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You upheld her, no doubt,” declared Mrs. Wadsworth.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I sympathized with her as they who never had
+a pain can feel for the sick,” said Tessa, smiling
+into her father’s eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“How did you talk to her?” asked Dine.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is talk? I only told her to wait and she
+would know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s easy to talk,” said Mrs. Wadsworth uncomfortably.
+“You can talk an hour about sympathy,
+but you didn’t run out to Freddie Stone.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why didn’t you?” inquired her father seriously.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa laughed, while Dine answered.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mother was there talking as fast as she could
+talk, Bridget was there with a basin of water and
+a sponge, Mrs. Bird had run over, a carriage with
+two ladies, a coachman and a footman had stopped
+to look on, and oh, I was there too. He was somewhat
+bloody.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are excused, daughter. Save your energies
+for a time of greater need.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Energies! Need!” tartly exclaimed Mrs. Wadsworth.
+“If she begins to be literary, she will care
+for nothing else.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I see no evidence of a lessening interest yet,”
+replied her father.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I might know that you would encourage
+her. She might as well have the small-pox as
+far as her prospects go! A needle is a woman’s
+weapon.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You forget her tongue, mother,” suggested
+Dine. “Oh, Tessa, what is that about a needle;
+Mrs. Browning says it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa repeated:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘A&nbsp;&nbsp;woman&nbsp;&nbsp;takes&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;housewife&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;&nbsp;her&nbsp;&nbsp;breast,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;plucks&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;delicatest&nbsp;&nbsp;needle&nbsp;&nbsp;out<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As&nbsp;&nbsp;’twere&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;rose,&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;pricks&nbsp;&nbsp;you&nbsp;&nbsp;carefully<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;’Neath&nbsp;&nbsp;nails,&nbsp;&nbsp;’neath&nbsp;&nbsp;eyelids,&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;your&nbsp;&nbsp;nostrils,—say,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A&nbsp;&nbsp;beast&nbsp;&nbsp;would&nbsp;&nbsp;roar&nbsp;&nbsp;so&nbsp;&nbsp;tortured—but&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;man,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A&nbsp;&nbsp;human&nbsp;&nbsp;creature,&nbsp;&nbsp;must&nbsp;&nbsp;not,&nbsp;&nbsp;shall&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;flinch,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;No,&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;shame.’”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“Some woman wrote that when she’d have done
+better to be sewing for her husband, I’ll warrant,”
+commented Mrs. Wadsworth. Mr. Wadsworth
+looked grave.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh she had a literary husband,” replied Tessa,
+mischievously. “A word that rhymed with supper
+would do instead of bread and butter; and he cared
+more for one of her poems than he did for his
+buttons.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Literary men don’t grow on every bush; and
+they don’t take to literary women, either,” said her
+mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mother, you forget the Howitts, William and
+Mary; what good, good times they have taking
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span>
+long walks and writing; like you and Gus, Tessa,
+and Mr. and Mrs. Browning—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You don’t find such people in Dunellen; <em>we</em> live
+in Dunellen. Gus will choose a woman that doesn’t
+care for books, and so will Mr. Towne, mark my
+words! And so will Felix Harrison, even if he is
+killing himself with study.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is improving greatly,” said Mr. Wadsworth,
+pulling one of Dine’s long curls straight. “He is
+going away Monday to finish his studies.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I honor him,” said Tessa, flushing slightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t,” said Dine, “he sha’n’t have you, Tessa.
+Don’t honor him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s all you and your father think of—keeping
+Tessa. She needs the wear and tear of married
+life to give her character.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s queer about that,” rejoined Tessa in a perplexed
+tone, playing with her napkin ring. “If
+such discipline <em>be</em> the best, why is any woman
+permitted to be without it? Why does not the
+fitting husband appear as soon as the girl begins
+to wish for him? In the East, where it is shameful
+for a girl not to be married at eleven, I have
+yet to learn that the wives are noted for strength
+or beauty of character.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You may talk,” said her mother, heatedly, “but
+two years hence <em>you</em> will dance in a brass kettle.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that I shall work in it,” answered Tessa,
+coloring painfully, however. Whether her lips
+were touched with a slight contempt, or tremulous
+because she was very, very much hurt, Dinah could
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span>
+not decide; she was silent because she could not
+think of any thing sharp enough to reply; she never
+liked to be <em>too</em> saucy.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Wadsworth spoke in his genial voice: “It’s
+a beautiful thing, daughters, to help a good man
+live a good life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah thought: “I would love to do such a beautiful
+thing.” Tessa was saying to herself, “Oh,
+what should I do if my father were to die!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Wadsworth pushed back his chair, went
+around to his wife and kissed her. Tessa loved
+him for it.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have helped a good man, a good old man,
+haven’t you, fairy?” he said, smoothing the hair
+that was as pretty as Dinah’s.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” answered his wife, and Tessa shivered
+from head to foot. “People all said that you were
+a different man after you were married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m going over to Norah’s,” cried Dinah. “I
+told her that I would come to write our French
+together. And, oh, father! I forgot to tell you,
+Gus will be in about eight.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know that I care for chess; I can not
+concentrate my attention as I could a year ago.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why do you run off if he is coming?” asked
+Mrs. Wadsworth.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He comes too often to be attended to,” Dine
+answered. “Won’t you be around, Tessa?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa had resolved to give the evening to writing
+letters, and was passing through the dining-room with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span>
+a china candlestick in her hand, when
+her father, reading Shakespeare at the round table,
+on which stood a shaded lamp, detained her by
+catching at her dress.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Set your light down, daughter, and stay a
+moment.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With her hand upon his shoulder, she looked
+down over the page he was reading:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Heaven&nbsp;&nbsp;doth&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;us&nbsp;&nbsp;as&nbsp;&nbsp;we&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;torches&nbsp;&nbsp;do;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Not&nbsp;&nbsp;light&nbsp;&nbsp;them&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;themselves—’”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+she read aloud.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I made my will to-day,” he said quietly; “that
+is, I changed it. Lewis Gesner and Gus Hammerton,
+my tried friends, were in the office at the time.
+If you ever need a friend, daughter, any thing done
+for you that Gus can not do—I count on him as the
+friend of my girls for life—go to Lewis Gesner.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t want a friend; I have you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If I should tell your mother about the will she
+would go into hysterics, and Dine would be sure
+that I am going to die; I have divided my little
+all equally among my three. That is, all but this
+house and garden, which I have given to my elder
+daughter, Theresa Louise. It is to be hers solely,
+without any gainsaying. Your mother will fume
+when the fact is made known to her, but I give it
+to you that my three girls may always have a
+roof, humble though it be, over their heads. The
+old man did not know how to make money, but he
+left them enough to be comfortable all their lives
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span>
+there was never any need that his wife should worry
+and work, or that his daughter should marry for a
+home. Very good record for the old man; eh,
+daughter?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She laid her cheek against the bald forehead and
+put both arms around his neck.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And, Tessa, child, your mother is half right
+about you; don’t have any notions about marriage;
+promise me that you will marry—for you will, some
+day—but for the one best reason.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is that?” she asked roguishly. “How
+am I to know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What do you think?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because somebody needs me and I can do him
+good.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A Hottentot might urge that; you will find the
+reason in time. Don’t make an idol; that is your
+temperament.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And above all things don’t sacrifice yourself;
+few men appreciate being done good to! I know
+men, they are terribly human. Gus Hammerton is
+a fine fellow.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>He</em> is terribly human,” she answered with a little
+laugh.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I harsh towards your mother ever, do you
+think?” he asked in a changed tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, <em>no</em>,” she exclaimed in surprise.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I used to be. I tried to mould her. Don’t <em>you</em>
+ever try to mould any body; now run away to your
+work or to your book! Don’t sigh over me, I am
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span>
+‘well and hearty.’ How short my life seems when
+I look back. Such dreams as I had. It’s all right,
+though.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She could not run away, for the door-bell, in answer
+to a most decided pull, detained her; she
+opened it, expecting to see Mr. Hammerton, but
+to her surprise, and but slightly to her pleasure,
+Felix Harrison stood there in broad-shouldered
+health.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good evening,” she said with some bewilderment.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do I startle you?” he asked in the old gracious,
+winning manner. “May I come in?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am very glad to see you. Will you walk into
+my parlor, Mr. Fly?”
+</p>
+<p>
+The one tall candle in the china candlestick was
+the only light in the room. She set it upon the table,
+saying, “Excuse me, and I will bring a light,
+that we may the better look at each other. The
+light of other days is hardly sufficient.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is enough for me,” he said, pushing the ottoman
+towards one of the low arm-chairs. “Sit down
+and I will take the ottoman. The parrot recognizes
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her hand moved nervously on the arm of her
+chair; the hand was larger now than when it
+had spilled ink on his copy-book, larger even than
+when it had written her first, shy, proud, indignant
+refusal.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are not the tempest you used to be,” he
+said smiling after a survey of her face.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>Wasn’t</em> I a tempest? I have outgrown my little
+breezes. In time I may become as gentle as a
+zephyr.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You always were gentle enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not to me when I tormented you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Probably I should not be gentle if I were tormented
+now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She had never decided to which of the five thousand
+shades of green Felix Harrison’s eyes belonged;
+they were certainly green; one of the
+English poets had green eyes, she wondered if
+they were like Felix Harrison’s. To-night they
+glittered as if they were no color at all. This face
+beside her was a spiritualized face; a strong mouth
+as sweet as a woman’s, a round benevolent chin; a
+low, square forehead; hair as light as her own; his
+side face as he turned at least five years younger
+than the full face; she had often laughed at his
+queer fashion of growing old and growing young.
+At times, in the years when they were more together
+than of late, he had changed so greatly that,
+after not having seen him for several days she had
+passed him in the street without recognition; these
+times had been in those indignant times after she
+had refused him; that they were more than indignant
+times to him she was made painfully aware
+by these changes in his rugged face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been thinking over those foolish times,”
+she said, breaking the silence. “I am glad that
+you came in to-night; I am in a mood for confessing
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span>
+my wrong-doings; I have said many quick
+words; you know you always had the talent for
+irritating me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I always worried you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You did not intend to,” she said hastily, watching
+the movement of his lips; “we did not understand,
+that is all. It takes longer than a summer
+and a winter for heart to answer to heart.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We have known each other many summers
+and many winters.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And now we are old, sensible, hard-working
+people; having given up all nonsense we are discovering
+the sense there is in sense.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He turned his face with a listening look in his
+eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did not some one come in? Shall we be disturbed?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not unless we wish to be. It is only Mr. Hammerton,
+he is a great friend of father’s. He renews
+his youth in him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is he not <em>your</em> friend?”
+</p>
+<p>
+How well she remembered his suspicious, exacting
+questions!
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is my best friend,” she said proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish I was in heaven,” he said, his voice
+grown weak. “Every thing goes wrong with me;
+every thing has gone wrong all my life. Father
+is in a rage because I will not stay home; he offered
+me to-day the deed for two hundred acres as
+a bribe. I should be stronger to-day but that he
+worked my life out when I was a growing boy.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“A country life is best for you. Your old homestead
+is the loveliest place around, with its deep
+eaves and dormer-windows and vines. That wide
+hall is one of my pleasant recollections, and the
+porch that looks into the garden, the blue hills
+away off, and the cool woods, the thrushes and the
+robins and the whip-poor-will at twilight; that solitary
+note sets me to crying, or it used to when I
+dreamed dreams and told them to Laura! I hope
+that Laura will love the place too well to leave it;
+it is my ideal of a home; much more than splendid
+Old Place is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will stay if you will come and live in it with
+me,” he said quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I like my own home better,” she answered as
+quietly. “Are you stronger than you were?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Much stronger. I have not had one of those
+attacks since March. Lake warns me; but I am
+twice the man that he is! How he coughed last
+winter! I haven’t any thing to live for, anyway.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is very weak for you to say that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Whose fault is it that I am so weak? Whose
+fault is it that my life is spoiled? You have spoiled
+every thing for me by playing fast and loose with
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never did that,” she answered indignantly.
+“You accuse me wrongfully.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Every time you speak to me or look at me you
+give me hope; an hour with you I live on for
+months. O, Tessa,” dropping his head in both
+hands, “I have loved you all my life.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know it,” she said solemnly. “Can’t you be
+brave and bear it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>am</em> bearing it. I am bearing it and it is
+killing me. You never had the water ebb and
+flow, ebb and flow when you were dying of thirst.
+Women can not suffer; they are heartless, all their
+heart is used in causing men to suffer. A touch
+of your hand, the color in your cheek, a dropping
+of your eyes, talks to me and tells me a lie; and
+then you go up-stairs and kneel down to Him, who
+is the truth-maker! You are a covenant-breaker.
+You have looked at me scores of times as if you
+loved me; you have told me that you like to be
+with me; and when I come to you and ask you like
+a man to become my wife, you blush and falter, and
+answer like a woman—<em>no</em>. I beg your pardon—”
+</p>
+<p>
+The tears stood in her eyes but would not fall.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I did not come here to upbraid you. I did not
+start from home with the intention of coming; but
+I saw you through the window with your arms
+around your father’s neck and I thought, ‘Her
+heart is soft to-night; she will listen to me.’ I
+was drawn in, as you always draw me, against my
+better judgment. I shall not trouble you again; I
+am going away. Tessa,” suddenly snatching both
+hands, “if you are so sorry for me, why can’t you
+love me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know,” not withdrawing her hands,
+“something hinders. I honor you. I admire you.
+Your love for me is a great rest to me; I want to
+wrap myself up in it and go to sleep; I do not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span>
+want to give it up—no one else loves me, and I <em>do</em>
+want somebody to love me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will love you; only let me. Marry me and I
+will stay at home; I will do for you all that a human
+heart and two human hands can do; I will <em>be</em>
+to you all that you will help me to be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I do not want to marry you,” she said perplexed.
+“I should have to give up too much. I
+love my home and the people in it better than I
+love you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not take you away; you shall have them
+all; you shall come to them and they shall come
+to you; remember that I have never loved any
+one but you—” the great tears were rolling down
+his cheeks. “I am not worth it; I am not worthy
+to speak to you, or even to hold your hands
+like this.” He broke down utterly, sobbing wearily
+and excitedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t, oh, don’t,” she cried hurriedly. “I may
+grow to love you if you want me to so much,
+and you are good and true, I can believe every
+word you say—not soon—in two or three years
+perhaps.”
+</p>
+<p>
+His tears were on her hands, and he had loved
+her all her life; no one else loved her, no one else
+ever would love her like this; he was good and
+true, and she wanted some one to love her; she
+wanted to be sure of love somewhere and then to
+go to sleep. Her father should see her married before
+he died; her mother would never—
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have promised,” he cried, in a thick voice.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span>
+“You have promised and you never break your
+word.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have promised and I never break my word;
+but you must not speak of it to any one, not even
+to Laura, and I will not tell father, or Gus, or Miss
+Jewett, or Dine; no one must guess it for one year—it
+is so sudden and strange! I couldn’t bear to
+hear it spoken of; and if you are very gentle and
+do not <em>try</em> to make me love you—you must not
+kiss me, or put your arms around me, you know
+I never did like that, and perhaps that is one
+reason why I never liked you before—you must
+let me alone, let love come of itself and grow of
+itself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will,” he uttered brokenly, and rose up trembling
+from head to foot. “May God bless you!—bless
+you!—bless you!”
+</p>
+<p>
+It was better for him to leave her; the strain had
+been too great for both.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I must be alone; I must go out under the stars
+and thank God.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She lifted her face to his and kissed him. How
+unutterably glad and thankful she was in all her
+life afterward that she gave that kiss unasked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“God bless you, my darling,” he said tenderly,
+“and He <em>will</em> bless you for this.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Bewildered, not altogether unhappy, she sat alone
+while he went out under the stars.
+</p>
+<p>
+Was this the end of all her girlhood’s dreams?
+</p>
+<p>
+Only Felix Harrison! Must she pass all her life
+with him? Must her father and mother and Gus
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span>
+and Dine be not so much to her because Felix Harrison
+had become more—had become most? And
+Ralph Towne? Ought she to love Felix as she
+had loved him?
+</p>
+<p>
+The hurried questions were answerless. She did
+not belong to herself; not any more to her father
+as she had belonged to him half an hour since with
+both her arms around his neck. Love constituted
+ownership, and she belonged to Felix through this
+mighty right of love; did he belong to her through
+the same divine right?
+</p>
+<p>
+He was thanking God and so must she thank
+Him.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa,” called her father, “come here, daughter!”
+</p>
+<p>
+With the candle in her hand, she stood in the
+door-way of the sitting-room. “Well,” she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“With whom were you closeted?” asked Mr.
+Hammerton, looking up from the chess-board.
+</p>
+<p>
+The effort to speak in her usual tone lent to her
+voice a sharpness that startled herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Felix Harrison.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your old tormentor!” suggested Mr. Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who ever called him that?” She came to the
+table, set the candlestick down and looked over
+the chess-board.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She has refused him again,” mentally decided
+Mr. Hammerton, carefully moving his queen.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I called you, daughter, because Gus withstood
+me out and out about ‘Heaven doth with us as we
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span>
+with torches do.’ Find it and let his obstinate
+eyes behold!”
+</p>
+<p>
+She opened the volume, turning the leaves with
+fingers that trembled. “Truly enough,” she was
+thinking, “a year from to-day will find a difference.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now I am going over for Dine,” she said, after
+Mr. Hammerton had acknowledged himself in the
+wrong.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Permit me to accompany you,” he said. Even
+with Tessa Wadsworth, Gus Hammerton was often
+formal. They found Dinah bidding Norah good-by
+at Mr. Bird’s gate; they were laughing at nothing,
+as usual.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Let us walk to the end of the planks,” suggested
+Mr. Hammerton. “On a night like this I
+could tramp till sunrise.” He drew Tessa’s arm
+through his, saying, “Now, Dine, take the other
+fin.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The end of the planks touched a piece of woods;
+at the entrance of the wood stood an old building,
+windowless, doorless, chimneyless; the school children
+knew that it was haunted.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We’re afraid,” laughed Dine; “the old hut looks
+ghostly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It <em>is</em> ghostly, I will relate its history. Once
+upon a time, upon a dark night, so dark that
+I could not see the white horse upon which I
+rode—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, that’s splendid,” cried Dinah, hanging contentedly
+upon his arm. “Listen, Tessa.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+But Tessa could not listen. She was feeling
+the peace that rested over the woods, the fields;
+that was enwrapping Old Place, and further down
+the dim road the low-eaved homestead that must
+thenceforth be home to her. There could be no
+more air-castles; her future was decided. She had
+turned the leaf and discovered a name that hitherto
+had meant so little: Felix Harrison. Not Ralph
+Towne; a year ago to-night it was English violets
+and Ralph Towne. The peace that brooded over
+all might be hers, if only she would be content.
+</p>
+<p>
+At this moment,—while she was trying to be content,
+trying to believe that she could interpret the
+peace of the shining stars, and while she was hearing
+the sound of her companion’s words, a solemn,
+even tone that rolled on in unison with her
+thoughts,—two people far away were thinking of
+her; thinking of her, but not wishing and not
+daring to speak her name.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not understand, Ralph. I was sure that
+we would bring Naughty Nan away with us.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Truly, mother, I would have pleased you, if I
+could.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are too serious for her; with all her mischievous
+advances,—like a white kitten provokingly
+putting out its paw,—she was more than
+half afraid of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It does not hurt her to be afraid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is most bewitching.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now, mother! But it is too late; she will understand
+by my parting words that I do not expect to see her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span>
+soon again. In my mind is a
+memory that has kept me from loving that delicious
+Naughty Nan.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is the memory a fancy?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No; it is too real for my ease of mind. If I
+were a poet, which I am not, I should think that
+her spirit haunted me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can you tell me no more of her? That daughter
+that I might have had!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not understand her: she is beyond me, she
+baffles me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I read of a man once who loved a woman too
+well to marry any one else, and yet he did not love
+her well enough to marry her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Was he a fool?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Answer the question for yourself. Are <em>you</em> a
+fool?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I am. I do not know my own mind. I
+should call another man a fool.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It may not be too late,” she gently urged.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Too late for what?” he asked irritably.
+</p>
+<p>
+“To be wise.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In a few moments he spoke in an abrupt, changed
+tone—
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mother! I have decided at last. I shall hang
+out my shingle in Dunellen. It is a picturesque
+little city, and the climate is as good for you as the
+south of France.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am very glad,” she answered cordially. “You
+are a born physician, you are cool, you are quick,
+you are gentle; you can keep your feelings under
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span>
+perfect control. You are not quite a Stoic, but you
+will do very well for one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you will not be happy at Old Place without
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why should I be without you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have noticed that large, wide brick house
+on the opposite side of the Park from Miss Jewett’s?
+It has a garden and stable; it is just the house for
+us; you may have two rooms thrown into one for
+your sitting-room and any other changes that you
+please.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I remember it, I like the situation; there are
+English sparrows in the trees.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We will take that for the present. John Gesner
+owns it; he will make his own price if he sees that
+I want it, I suppose. I <em>do</em> want it. There are not
+many things that I desire more. You and I will
+have a green old age at Old Place.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You forget that I am thirty years older than
+you, my son.”
+</p>
+<p>
+By accident, one day, Mrs. Towne had come
+across, in one of the drawers of her son’s writing-table,
+a large photograph of Tessa Wadsworth, a
+vignette, and she had gazed long upon her; the
+face was not beautiful, one would not even think
+of it as pretty, but it was fine, intellectual, sensitive,
+and sweet. In searching for an old letter not
+long before leaving home, she had discovered this
+picture, defaced and torn into several pieces.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ralph, you will not be angry with your white-headed
+old mother, but were you ever refused?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No,” he said, laughing. “A dozen women may
+have been ready to refuse me, but not one ever did.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nor accepted you, either,” she continued,
+shrewdly.
+</p>
+<p>
+He arose and began to pace the floor; after some
+turns of excited movement, he came to her and
+stood behind her chair. “I know that I have been
+accepted; I know that I asked when I did not
+intend to ask—that is—I was carried beyond myself;
+I asked when I did not know that I was
+asking.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What shall you do now?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall ask in reality; I shall confess myself in
+the wrong.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And she?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And she? She has the tenderest heart in the
+world. She has forgiven me long ago.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do not trust her eyes and forget her lips,”
+warned his mother. “Love is slain sometimes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He resumed his walk with a less confident air.
+He <em>had</em> forgotten her lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+Would Tessa have cared to hear this? Would
+she have forgotten Felix, his blessing and the quiet
+of the holy stars?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh,” cried Dinah, with her little shout (she
+would not have been Dinah without that little
+shout), “Oh, Tessa, did you hear?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is star-gazing,” said Mr. Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t a true story,” pleaded Dinah. “You
+didn’t really see him hanging by the rope and the
+woman looking on.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“My young friend, it is an allegory; that is what
+you will drive some man to some day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know I won’t. What is the name of that
+bright star?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t a star, it’s a planet.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do I know the difference?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Lady Blue knows.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you call her that because her eyes are so
+blue or because she is a blue-stocking?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is not a blue-stocking; I will not allow it.
+It is for her eyes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gus,” said Dinah, “I can’t understand things.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What things?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tennyson’s Dream of Fair Women.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shouldn’t think you could. I have spent
+hours on it trying to make it out. You look up
+Marc Antony and Cleopatra—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“As if I had to.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, look up the daughter of the warrior Gileadite,
+and fair Rosamond, and angered Eleanor,
+and Fulvia, and Joan of Arc.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And will you read it to us, and talk all about
+it?” cried Dinah in delight. “I like King Lear
+when father reads it, but I can’t understand Shakespeare;
+he is all conversations.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton laughed, and patted her head.
+“I will bring you the stories that Charles and
+Mary Lamb gathered from Shakespeare.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Shall we turn?” asked Tessa, slipping her hand
+through his arm; he instantly imprisoned her fingers.
+Felix would be troubled and angry she knew,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span>
+even at this clasp of an old friend’s hand. Jealousy
+was his one strong passion; he was jealous of the
+books she read, of the letters she received, of every
+word spoken to her that he did not hear; she wondered
+as her fingers drew themselves free, if he
+would ever become jealous of her prayers.
+</p>
+<p>
+She drew a long breath as the weight of her
+bondage fell heavier and heavier; and then, he was
+so demonstrative, so lavish of his caresses, and her
+ideal of a lover was one who held himself aloof,
+who kept his hands and his lips to himself. She
+sighed more than once as she kept even pace with
+the others.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Has the nightingale made a mistake?” asked
+Mr. Hammerton, as they were crossing to the gate.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She only made one mistake. I wonder how
+many I <em>can</em> make if I do my best to make them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah opened the gate; her father’s light streamed
+through the windows over the garden, down the
+path.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good night,” said Mr. Hammerton. “Oh, I just
+remember, what shall I do? I asked my cousin
+Mary to go to a lecture on Burns with me to-night,
+and I declare! I never thought of it until
+this minute.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mary Sherwood will give it to you,” said Dinah.
+“I wonder what your wife will do with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A wife’s first duty is obedience,” he answered.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’d like to see the man I’d promise to obey,” said
+Dinah, quickly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I expect you would,” he said gravely.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Dine darted after him to box his ears, words being
+impotent, and Tessa went into the house. “I
+think I’ll pigeon-hole <em>this</em> day and then go to bed,”
+she said, a merry gleam crossing her eyes; “between
+my two walks on the planks to-day, I have lived
+half a lifetime. I hope Dr. Lake is asleep; I will
+never hurt Felix as he is hurt.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span><a name='ch9' id='ch9'></a>IX.—THE NEW MORNING.</h2>
+<p>
+Her eyes were wide open an hour before the
+dawn; as the faint light streamed through the east
+and glowed brighter and brighter along the rim of
+the south that she could see from her position on
+the pillow, she arose, wrapped a shawl about her,
+and went to the window to watch the new morning.
+On the last night of the old year she had
+watched the sunset standing at her western window,
+then the light had gone out of her life and all
+the world was dark; now, in the new year, her private
+and personal new year, the light was rising,
+creeping up slowly into the sky, the gold, the faint
+rose and the bright rose running into each other,
+softening, blending, glowing deeper and deeper as
+she watched. This new morning that was an old
+morning to so many other eyes that were looking
+out upon it; this new morning that would be again
+for Dinah, perhaps, and for all the other girls
+that were growing up into God’s kingdom on the
+earth! The robins in Mr. Bird’s apple orchard
+were awake, too, and chanticleer down the road
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span>
+had proclaimed the opening of another new day
+with all his lusty might. She wondered, as she
+listened and looked, if Felix were standing in the
+light of the morning on the porch, or he might be
+walking up and down the long garden path. And
+thanking God? She wished that she were thanking
+God. She was thanking Him for the light, the
+colors, the refreshing, misty air, the robins and
+the white and pink wealth of apple blossoms; but
+she was not thanking Him because Felix Harrison
+loved her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And that night they caught nothing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The words repeated themselves with startling
+clearness. What connection could they possibly
+have with the sunrise? Oh, now she knew; it
+was because the fishermen had seen the Lord upon
+the shore in the morning.
+</p>
+<p>
+<em>She</em> had caught nothing; all her night of toil
+had been fruitless; she had striven and hoped and
+dreamed, oh, how she had dreamed of all that she
+would do and become! And now she could not be
+glad of any thing.
+</p>
+<p>
+The years had ended in having Felix Harrison
+love her; that was all. She had lived her childhood
+and girlhood through for such a time as this.
+</p>
+<p>
+This new year had brought more hard things to
+bear than any of the old years; if she could only
+tell some one who would care and sympathize with
+her and help her not only to bear but to do and to
+become; but her father would be justly angry and
+exclaim, “Madness, daughter,” her mother would
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span>
+laugh and look perplexed, Miss Jewett would say,
+“O, Tessa, Tessa, I didn’t think such a thing of
+you,” and Mr. Towne—but she had no right to
+think of him! And Gus! He would look at her
+steadily and say nothing; he would be disappointed
+in her if he knew that she could promise with
+her lips, with no love in her heart save the love of
+regret, compassion, and contrition for all that she
+had so unconsciously caused him to suffer. And
+how could she reveal to Felix, poor Felix! the
+plain, cold truth! how she shrank from him as
+soon as she was alone and could think! how as
+the morning grew brighter and her world more
+real she shrank from him yet more and more! how
+the very thought of his presence, of his tight arms
+around her, and his smooth face close to hers gave
+her a feeling of repulsion that she had never felt
+towards any human being before! She felt that she
+must flee to the ends of the earth rather than to
+endure him. But it was done; she must keep her
+word; he should never guess; she would write a
+note and slip it into his hand to-day, he would be
+sure to press through the crowd towards her as she
+came out of church. She would write it now and
+be at rest. Her writing-desk stood open, pages of
+manuscript were laid upon it. She selected a sheet
+of lemon-colored note paper, and wrote a message,
+hurriedly, in pencil. Never afterward would she
+write a word upon lemon-colored paper.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do not come to me, dear Felix—” she hesitated
+over the adjective, erased the words, and dropped
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span>
+the sheet into her waste paper basket and found
+another: “Do not come to me, Felix, until I send
+for you, please. I am not strong. I want to be
+alone. Do not think me unkind, you know that I
+always did like to be alone. Do not expect too
+much of me; I am not what you think; I am a
+weak, impulsive woman, too tender-hearted to be
+wise, or to be just towards myself or towards you.
+If you want me to love you, ask it of Him, who
+is love; do not ask it of me, I am not love. But
+do not be troubled, I have given my word, I am
+not a covenant-breaker, <em>I will be true</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She folded it, not addressing it, and placed it in
+the pocket of the dress that she would wear to
+church; as she passed the window she saw Dr.
+Lake driving towards home. Shivering, although
+the sun was high enough to shine on the apple
+blossoms, she crept back to bed, nestling close to
+sleepy Dine who loved her morning nap better
+than the sunrise. Her confused thoughts ran hither
+and thither; she found herself repeating something
+that she and Mr. Hammerton had learned together
+years ago,
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Yes,’&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;answered&nbsp;&nbsp;you&nbsp;&nbsp;last&nbsp;&nbsp;night;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;‘No,’&nbsp;&nbsp;this&nbsp;&nbsp;morning,&nbsp;&nbsp;sir,&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;say;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Colors&nbsp;&nbsp;seen&nbsp;&nbsp;by&nbsp;&nbsp;candlelight<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Do&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;look&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;same&nbsp;&nbsp;by&nbsp;&nbsp;day.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton said that he and the Wadsworth
+girls had learned “miles” of poetry together. The
+Harrisons were not at church. When had such
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span>
+a thing happened before? Her fingers were on
+the note in her pocket as she passed down the
+aisle.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, Tessa,” whispered a loud whisper behind
+her, and Sue’s irrepressible lips were close to her
+ear; “come home to dinner with me; you won’t
+want to go to Bible class, for Miss Jewett is down
+to Harrison’s. Father sent for her to go early this
+morning.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why is she there?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, somebody is sick. Felix. Dr. Lake was
+there in the night and father was going this morning.
+He was taken crazy, I believe. Come home
+with me, will you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Very well.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She found Dine waiting for Norah, and told her
+that she was going home with Sue, then rejoined
+Sue at one of the gates.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m awful lonesome Sundays,” began Sue; “Aunt
+Jane has gone, I told you, didn’t I? A cousin of
+hers died and left some dozens of young ones and
+she had to go and take care of them and console
+the widower. ‘The unconsolable widder of Deacon
+Bedott will never get married again!’ but she went
+all the same. She said that she had brought <em>me</em> up
+far enough to take care of father.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue’s lightness grated all along her nerves.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you like Mary Sherwood’s hat? Too many
+flowers, don’t you think so? And she <em>will</em> wear
+light blue with her sallow face! Wasn’t it a queer
+sermon, too? Don’t you think it is wicked for ministers
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span>
+to frighten people so? He said that we make
+our own lives, that we choose every day, and that
+every choice has an influence. You think that I
+don’t listen because I stare around, don’t you? I
+sha’n’t forget that ever, because I have just had
+a choice that will influence my life; and I chose
+<em>not</em> to do it. It’s hateful to have Miss Jewett
+away; I won’t go to Bible class, and I won’t let
+you, either. I have a book to read, or I can go
+to sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, you can go to sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have something to tell you,” said Sue, shyly,
+hesitating as she glanced into Tessa’s quiet, almost
+stern, face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not now—in the street.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, no, when we are by ourselves. Our parlors
+are lovely now; you will see how I have fixed
+up things. Father is so delighted to have me home
+that he will let me do any thing I like.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Voices behind them and voices before them, now
+and then a soft, Sunday laugh; through the pauses
+of Sue’s talk Tessa listened, catching at any thing
+to keep herself from thinking.
+</p>
+<p>
+“A rare sermon.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It will do me good all the week.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The most becoming spring hat I’ve seen.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is very handsome in the pulpit.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Come over to tea.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I expect to do great things this summer.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If I could talk like that I’d set people to
+thinking.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“We sha’n’t get out of trouble in <em>this</em> world.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“When I can’t forgive myself, I just let go of
+myself, and let God forgive me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She wished that she could see that face; the
+voice sounded familiar, the reply was in a man’s
+voice; she felt as if she were listening, but she
+would have liked to hear the reply, all the more
+when she discovered that the talkers were Mr.
+Lewis Gesner and his sister.
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>Isn’t</em> she handsomely dressed?” exclaimed Sue
+in admiration. “She passed me without seeing me.
+He is so wrapped up in that sister that he will
+never be married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The crowd became thinner; couples and threes
+and fours, sometimes only one, entered at each
+gate as they moved on; they passed down the
+long street almost alone; Dr. Greyson’s new house
+stood nearly a mile from the Park; there was a
+grass plot in front and stables in the rear.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Lake was driving around to the stables.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hoped that he wouldn’t be home to lunch;
+he’s awful cross,” said Sue, with a pout and a flush.
+Fifteen minutes later the lunch bell rang; Dr. Greyson
+hurried in as they were seating themselves at
+the table.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s quickened heart-beats would not allow
+her to ask about Felix; she knew that her voice
+would betray her agitation; Dr. Lake had shaken
+hands and had not stopped to speak to her; his
+miserable face was but a repetition of yesterday.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Greyson seldom talked of anything but his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span>
+patients and he was interested in Felix Harrison,
+she knew that she had but to wait patiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Susie is a perfect housekeeper, isn’t she? Somebody
+will find it out, I’m afraid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s all I am,” said Sue. “Father, why didn’t
+you educate me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Educate a kitten!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How is Felix Harrison?” inquired Dr. Lake.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Bad! Bad enough. That fellow has been walking
+around with a brain fever. He’ll pull through
+with care. Miss Jewett will stay until they can
+get a nurse; I would rather keep <em>her</em>, though. I
+warned him months ago. I told him that it would
+come to this. He has thrown away his life; he’ll
+never be good for any thing again. I am glad
+that he has a father to take care of him; lucky for
+him, and not so lucky for his father. I wouldn’t
+care to see my son such a wreck as he’ll be. Why
+a man born with brains will deliberately make a
+fool of himself, I can’t understand. Teaching and
+studying law and what not? He will have fits as
+long as he lives coming upon him any day any
+hour; he will be as much care as an infant. More,
+for an infant does grow up, and he will only become
+weaker and weaker mentally and physically.
+He has been under some great excitement, I suspect.
+<em>They</em> don’t know what it is. He came home
+late last night; his father heard a noise in his room
+and went in to find him as crazy as a loon. He
+said that he had heard him talking in his sleep all
+night long for two or three nights. I hope that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span>
+he isn’t engaged. I know a case like his, and that
+poor fellow <em>was</em> engaged.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course that ended it,” said Sue. “A sick
+husband of all things. I would drown myself, if I
+had a sick husband.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course it ended it. It almost broke her
+heart, though; broke it for a year, and then a
+dashing cousin of his mended it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps Felix hasn’t any cousin. Dr. Lake,
+will you have more coffee?” Sue spoke carelessly,
+not meeting his glance.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you, no.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Greyson ran on talking and eating: “I told
+the old man the whole truth; he begged so hard to
+know the worst. He cried like a baby. He was
+proud of Felix. Felix was a fine fellow,—a noble
+fellow. But he’s dead now; dead, <em>and</em> buried.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Does Laura know?” inquired Sue, helping herself
+to sweet pickled peaches. Tessa was tasting
+the peaches, her throat so full of sobs that she
+swallowed the fruit with pain.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, of course not. I told Miss Jewett to tell
+her any thing, but be sure to keep her up. He
+won’t die. Why should he? It will come gradually
+to her. The very saddest case I know. And
+to think that it might have been avoided. I didn’t
+tell his father <em>that</em>, though. Felix has no one but
+himself to thank. I warned him a year ago. Brains
+<em>without</em> common sense is a very poor commodity.
+What did the minister tell you Miss Tessa? I
+haven’t been to church since Sue was a baby.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No wonder that I’m a heathen, then; any body
+would be with such a father,” retorted Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Lake excused himself abruptly, and crossing
+the hall went into the office.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That foolish boy has taught me a lesson. I
+would take a vacation this summer, only if I leave
+Sue at home she would run off and marry Lake before
+a week.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You needn’t be afraid,” answered Sue, scornfully.
+“I look higher than Gerald Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The office door stood ajar. Sue colored with
+vexation as the words in her high voice left her
+lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Shall we go into the parlor?” she said rising.
+“You can find a book and I’ll go to sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The parlors had been refurnished in crimson and
+brown. Standing in the centre of the front parlor,
+Tessa exclaimed, “Oh, how pretty!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t it? All my taste. Dr. Lake did advise
+me, though; he went with me. Now, you shall sit
+in the front or back just as you please, in the most
+comfortable of chairs, and I will sit opposite you
+and snooze,—that is,” rather doubtfully, for she
+was afraid of Tessa, “unless you will let me tell
+you my secret.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In passing through the rooms, Tessa had taken
+a volume of Josephus from a table; she settled herself
+at one of the back windows in a pretty crimson
+and brown chair, smoothed the folds of her black
+dress, folded her hands in her lap over the green
+volume, and looked up at Sue. Sue and a book in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span>
+brown paper were in another crimson and brown
+chair at another window; flushed and vexed she
+played with the edges of her book.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you think that he heard what I said?” she
+asked anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know as well as I.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She did not feel in a gentle mood towards Sue;
+her voice and words had rasped her nerves for the
+last hour.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I didn’t intend it for him,” she was half crying,
+“but father provoked me. He does bother me so.
+I didn’t flirt with him, I was real good and sisterly.
+I told him to call me Sister Sue. But after it all,
+he asked me to marry him, and was as mad as a
+hornet, and said dreadful things to me when I refused
+him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She nibbled the edge of her book; Tessa had
+nothing to say.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I couldn’t help it now, could I?” in a tearful
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know best.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>know</em> I couldn’t. I like him. I can’t help
+liking him; a cat or a dog would like him. In
+some things, I like him better than Stacey, and I’m
+sure I like him better than old John Gesner.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa opened her book and looked into the handsome
+face of Flavius Josephus.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Haven’t you any thing to say to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You might sympathize with me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know how.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue nibbled the edge of her book, with her eyes
+filled with tears. She had no friend except Tessa,
+and now she had deserted her!
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa turned the leaves and thought that she
+was reading; she did read the words: “The family
+from which I am derived is not an ignoble one,
+but hath descended all along from the priests; and
+as nobility among several people is of a different
+origin, so with us to be of the sacerdotal dignity is
+an indication of the splendor of a family.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” she tried to think, her eyes wandering
+out of the window towards the rear of Gesner’s
+Row, “and that is why the promise, to be made
+kings and priests—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, I think you are real mean,” said Sue, in
+a pathetic voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa met her eyes and smiled. She did not like
+to be hard towards Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you think that I’ve been so wicked?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that you have been so wicked that you
+must either be forgiven or punished.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, dear! Oh, dear <em>me</em>,” dropping her head on
+the arm of her chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa turned another leaf. “Moreover when I
+was a child and about fourteen years of age, I was
+commended by all for the love I had to learning;
+on which account the high priests and principal
+men of the city came then frequently to me together,
+in order to know my opinion about the
+accurate understanding of points of the law.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her eyes wandered away from the book and out
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span>
+the open window towards the rows of open windows
+in the houses behind the stables. At one
+window was seated an old man reading; in the
+same room, for he raised his head to speak to her,
+at another window, a woman was sitting reading
+also. She was glad that there were two. She wondered
+if they had been kind to each other as long
+as they had known each other. If the old man
+should die to-night would the old woman have
+need to say, “Forgive me.” Through the windows
+above came the heavy, steady whirr of a sewing-machine,
+with now and then a <em>click</em>, as if the long
+seam had come to its end; the bushy, black head of
+a German Jew was bent over it; the face that he
+raised was not at all like that of the refined Flavius
+Josephus. No one ever went to him with knotty
+points in the law! There were plants in the other
+window of the room; she was glad of the plants.
+It was rather mournful to be seeking things to be
+glad about. A child was crying, sharply, rebelliously;
+a woman’s sharper voice was breaking in
+upon it.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was a voice in the stable speaking to a
+horse, “Quiet, old boy.” A horse was brought out
+and harnessed to a buggy without a top. Dr.
+Greyson climbed into the buggy and drove off.
+Another horse was brought out and harnessed to
+a buggy with a top. She persuaded herself that
+she was very much interested in watching people
+and things; she had not had time to think of Felix
+yet. Dr. Lake came out, sprang into the buggy,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span>
+and drove slowly out, not looking towards the
+windows where sat the two figures, each apparently
+absorbed in a book.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa,” in a broken voice, like the appeal of
+a naughty child with the naughtiness all gone,
+“what shall I do?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know,” said Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You don’t think that I ought to marry him.
+He smells of medicine so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not think any thing. If I did think
+any thing, it would be my thinking and not
+yours.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you believe that he cares so <em>very</em> much?”
+</p>
+<p>
+The exultant undertone was too much for Tessa’s
+patience.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that he has too much good sense to care
+long; some day when he can see how heartless you
+are, he will despise himself for having fancied that
+he loved you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You don’t care how you hurt my feelings.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not sure that you have any to be hurt.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are a mean thing; I don’t like you; I wish
+that I hadn’t asked you to come.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s eyes were on <em>Josephus</em> again.
+</p>
+<p>
+After a long, silent hour, during which Sue looked
+out the window, and nibbled the edge of her book,
+and during which Tessa thought of every body and
+every thing except Felix Harrison, Sue spoke: “I’m
+going up-stairs for a while; excuse me, please.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa nodded, closed her book and leaned back
+in the pretty crimson and brown chair. Sue came
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span>
+to her and stood a moment; her heart <em>was</em> sore.
+If Tessa would only say something kind! But
+Tessa would not; she only said coolly, “Well?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You don’t believe that I am sorry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t believe any thing about it, but that you
+are heartless and wicked.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue stood waiting for another word, but Tessa
+looked tired, and as if she had forgotten her presence.
+Why should she look so, Sue asked herself
+resentfully; <em>she</em> had nothing to trouble her?
+Sue went away, her arms dropped at her side, her
+long green dress trailing on the carpet; tenderness
+gathered in Tessa’s eyes as the green figure
+disappeared. “I don’t like to be hard to her,” she
+murmured.
+</p>
+<p>
+The terrible thought of Felix pressed heavier and
+heavier. She took the note from her pocket and
+pondered each word; the cruel, truthful words! If
+he had read them she might have had to believe
+all her life that she had hastened this illness! The
+sunshine grew warmer, beating down upon the
+paving stones in the yard, the faces kept their
+places in the windows, the child’s shrill, rebellious
+cry burst out again and the woman’s sharper
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue’s steps were moving overhead; suddenly, so
+suddenly as to break in upon the current of her
+thoughts, Sue’s voice rang out in her clear soprano,
+“Rock of Ages, cleft for me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The voice grated, the words coming from the
+thoughtless lips grated on her ear and on her heart,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span>
+grated more harshly than the woman’s sharp voice
+in taunting rebuke.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Nothing&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;my&nbsp;&nbsp;hand&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;bring,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Simply&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy&nbsp;&nbsp;cross&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;cling.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+As soon as she had decided that she could not
+bear it another instant, the singing ceased. It
+ceased and left her in tears.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span><a name='ch10' id='ch10'></a>X.—FORGETTING THE BREAD.</h2>
+<p>
+Again Tessa was spending the night with Miss
+Jewett; Sue Greyson had chatted away half the
+evening, and it was nearly eleven before Tessa
+could put both arms around her friend and squeeze
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am hungry for a talk with you, you dear little
+woman, every thing is getting to be criss-cross with
+me nowadays; I’m so troubled and so wicked that
+I almost want to die. You wouldn’t love me any
+more if you could know how false I am. All my
+life I have been so proud of being true,” she added
+bitterly, “I despise myself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is that all?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett was leaning back in her little rocker.
+Almost before she knew it herself, Tessa had
+dropped upon the carpet at her feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have come to learn of you, my saint.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What have you come to learn, my sinner?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m confused—I’m bewildered—I’m all in a tangle.
+People say, ‘pray about it’; you say that yourself;
+and I do pray about all the trials in my life and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span>
+yet—I can not understand—I am groping my way,
+I am blind, walking in the dark. Do you know that
+I believe that praying for a thing is the hardest
+way in the world to get it? I would rather earn
+it a thousand times over; I know that you think
+me dreadfully wicked, but do not stop me, let me
+pour it all out; hard praying, never ceasing, night
+and day, is enough to wear one out soul and body,
+because you <em>must</em> expect to get what you ask for,
+and if you do not after praying so long the disappointment
+is heart-breaking. There now! I have
+said it and I feel better. I have no one except you
+to talk to and I wouldn’t dare tell you how wicked
+I am. About something I have prayed with all my
+strength—I will not be ashamed to tell you—I
+know you will understand; it is about loving somebody.
+I have been so ashamed and shocked at
+girls’ love-stories and I wanted one so true and
+pure and unselfish and beautiful, and I have prayed
+that mine might be that, and I have tried so hard
+to make it that, and yet I get into trouble and
+break my own heart, which is nothing at all, and
+more than break some one else’s heart and do as
+much harm as Sue Greyson does, who is as flighty
+as a witch! I would rather go without things
+than pray years and years and be disappointed
+every day, or go farther and farther into wrong-doing
+as I do; I don’t believe that the flightiest and
+flirtiest of your girls does as much harm as I do, or
+is as false to herself as I am! And I have been so
+proud of being true!”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“My <em>dear</em> child.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is that all you can say to comfort me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why do you pray?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why do I pray?” repeated Tessa in surprise.
+“To get what I want, I suppose.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t that what you pray for?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Hardly. I pray that I may get what God
+wants.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh,” said Tessa with a half startled, little cry.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I fear that you are having a hard time over
+something, child.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you only knew—but you wouldn’t believe in
+me any longer; neither would father, or Dine, or
+Gus, or any one who trusts me; I will not tell you;
+I have lost all faith in myself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank God for that!” exclaimed the little
+woman brightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am too sore and bruised to be thankful; I feel,
+sometimes, as if I could creep into a dark corner
+and cry my heart out. I could bear it if I were
+the only one, but to think that I must make somebody’s
+heart ache as mine does! I thought all my
+prayers would prevail to keep me from making
+mistakes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps you have been trying to <em>earn</em> your
+heart’s desire by heaping up prayers, piling them
+up higher and higher, morning, noon, and night,
+and you have held them up to God thinking that
+He must be glad to take them; I shouldn’t wonder
+if you had even supposed that you were paying
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span>
+Him overmuch—you had prayed enough to get
+what you want some time ago.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is true,” answered Tessa, emphatically.
+“I have felt as if He were wronging me by taking
+my prayers and giving me so little in return.
+I believe that I have thought my prayers
+precious enough to pay for any thing. I paid my
+prayers, and I am disappointed that I have not my
+purchases.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then your faith has been all in your <em>prayers</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes; I was sure that I could not go wrong because
+I prayed so much.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And your faith has been in your <em>faith</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And neither my faith nor my prayers have kept
+me from being false. Oh, it has been such hard
+work!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s face was drawn as if by physical pain.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was thinking in the night last night that I did
+not believe that Hannah, or Elizabeth, or Huldah, or
+Persis, or Dorcas ever prayed more fervently or unceasingly
+than I have; I have builded on my <em>faith</em>,
+no wonder that the first rough wind has shaken
+my foundation! Ever since Felix Harrison years
+ago called me a flirt, I have prayed that I might
+be true; and to-night I am as false as Sue Greyson.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Through an experience once, long ago, I learned
+to pray that the will of God might be done in me,
+even although I must be sifted as wheat.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not brave enough for that. Oh, Miss
+Jewett, I am afraid that God is angry with me;
+and I have meant to be so true.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you remember the time that the disciples
+forgot to take bread?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, but that is not like me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think it is—just like you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then tell me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It was one time when Jesus and the disciples
+were alone on board the ship; He had been deeply
+grieved with the Pharisees, sighing in His spirit
+over them, for they had tempted Him with asking
+of Him a sign from heaven. A sign from heaven!
+And He had just filled four thousand hungry people
+with seven loaves and a few small fishes!
+</p>
+<p>
+“By and by He began to talk to the disciples;
+speaking with authority, perhaps, it even sounded
+severe to them as He charged them to beware of
+the leaven of the Pharisees.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then they began to talk among themselves:
+what had they done to be thus bidden to beware
+of the leaven of the Pharisees? <em>Leaven</em> reminded
+them of bread! Oh, now they knew! They had
+but one loaf in the ship; they had forgotten to
+bring bread with them; perhaps the Lord was
+hungry and knew that they had not enough for
+Him and for themselves. It may be that He overheard
+them reasoning among themselves, or perhaps,
+forward Peter asked Him if He were rebuking
+them for forgetting the bread; for as soon as
+He knew what was troubling their simple hearts,
+how He talked to them! Seven questions, one
+after another, He asked them, ending with: <em>How
+is it</em> that ye do not understand?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you are like them, child. The Lord has
+suffered you to be led into trouble that He may
+teach you something about Himself and you fall
+down at His feet bemoaning yourself; you forget
+Him and the great lessons He has to teach you
+and think only of yourself and some little thing
+that you missed doing; you missed it, blinded with
+tears in your eagerness to do right, you <em>meant</em> to
+be so good and true, and because you made a mistake
+in your blindness and eagerness, you think
+Him such a harsh, unloving Father that all He
+cares to do is to punish you! Trust Him, Tessa!
+Don’t moan over a loaf of bread forgotten before
+Him who has love enough, and power enough to
+give you and somebody beside a thousand thousand
+loaves. Do not grieve Him by crying out
+any longer, ‘Do not punish me; I <em>meant</em> to be so
+good?’”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s head kept its position. When she raised
+it, after a long silence, she said: “I will not think so
+any more; you don’t know what I suffered in thinking
+that He is punishing me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘How is it that ye do not understand?’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because I think about my own troubles and
+not of what He is teaching me,” said Tessa humbly.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span><a name='ch11' id='ch11'></a>XI.—ON THE HIGHWAY.</h2>
+<p>
+In June, Tessa gathered roses for Miss Jewett,
+and every evening filled the tall glass vase with
+white roses for the tea-table; in June, Dunellen
+Institute closed for the season and Dinah was graduated;
+henceforth she would be a young lady of
+leisure, or a young lady seeking a vocation. In
+June, Mrs. Wadsworth scolded Tessa for “taking
+it so coolly about the dreadful thing that had come
+upon young Harrison.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How many times have you called to see Laura
+since her poor brother has been so poorly?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have called every two days,” answered Tessa
+in her quietest tones.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you have! Why didn’t you say so? You
+are so still that people think you do nothing but
+pick roses. Anxious as I am, you might have told
+me how he was getting on. How was he yesterday?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Comfortable.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you see him?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Was he sitting up?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, he had been sitting up half an hour.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How does he look?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“His eyes are deep in his head, his voice is
+as weak as a child’s, he burst into tears because
+Laura did not come when he touched his bell for
+her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Was he cheerful?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He smiled and talked.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you going to-day?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes; Dr. Lake will call for me about five.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You and Dr. Lake are getting to be great
+friends.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are we?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you know what he says about Felix?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He can say nothing but that he may never be
+himself again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, he did; but you mustn’t repeat it; promise
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There is no need for me to promise.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He said that his mind will grow weaker and
+weaker. Do you know that he has been having <em>fits</em>
+for two years?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I am aware of it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t it a dreadful, horrible thing? But he always
+was a little wild and queer, not quite like
+other folks. I was sure that he would die; he may
+yet, he may have a relapse. I should think that
+they would rather have him dead than grow silly.
+I suppose that Laura will never be married now;
+he will never be fit to be left alone. His father can
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span>
+marry though, and that would leave her free. I
+never object to second marriages, do you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That depends upon several things.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My father was married three times. I had two
+stepmothers, and might have had four if he had
+lived longer. Some people think, but I never did,
+that an engagement is as good as a marriage, do
+you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course, I knew that you would think so.
+But I never had any high-flown ideas about engagements.
+I was engaged to John Gesner—your
+father doesn’t know it to this day—he has high and
+mighty ideas about things like you. <em>You</em> ought to
+have some feeling about Felix Harrison, then, for
+he always wanted you. Professional men are always
+poor; Dr. Lake is not much of a ‘catch.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think he is—or will be—to the woman who
+can appreciate him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I beseech you don’t you go to appreciate him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do now—sufficiently,” she answered, smiling.
+</p>
+<p>
+Two weeks later, having seen Felix several times
+during the interval, Dine brought her a letter late
+in the afternoon.
+</p>
+<p>
+Felix always had written her name in full, saying
+that it was prettier than the one that she had
+given herself in baby-days; the penmanship appeared
+like a child’s imitation of his bold strokes.
+</p>
+<p>
+Not daring and not caring to open it immediately,
+she put on her hat and went out to walk far
+past the end of the planks down into the green
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span>
+country. She thought that she knew every tree
+and every field all the long way to the Harrison
+Homestead.
+</p>
+<p>
+Opening the letter at last, she read:
+</p>
+<p>
+“<span class='sc'>My Friend</span>,—I suppose you know all the truth.
+I wrung it out of Dr. Greyson to-day after you left
+me. You may have known it all the time. Father
+has known it, but not Laura. I shall never be
+what I once was; I know it better than any physician
+can tell me. If I live to forget every thing
+else (and I may), I think that I shall never forget
+that night. But I shall not let my mind go without
+a struggle; I shall read, I shall write, I shall
+travel, when I am able. I have been reading Macaulay
+to-day. I shall be a burden to father and
+Laura, and to any who may nurse me for wages.
+But I shall not be a burden to you. I know that
+you meant that <em>you</em> would never break our covenant,
+when you said: ‘Promises are made to be
+kept,’ but <em>I</em> will break it. I am breaking it now.
+You did belong to me when you last said good-by
+and laid your young, strong hand over my poor
+fingers; but you do not belong to me as you read
+this. As I can not know the exact moment when
+you read it, I can never know when you cease to
+belong to me. Laura and father intend to take me
+away; do not come to me until I return. No one
+knows. In all my ravings, I never spoke your
+name; it was on my mind that I had promised not
+to speak of it, and I never once forgot. But your
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span>
+presence was in every wild and horrible dream;
+you were being scalped and drowned and burned
+alive, and often and often you sat beside me holding
+my hand; many many times you came to me
+and said, ‘I will keep my word,’ but something
+took you away; you never went of your own accord.
+I have asked them all what I raved about
+and every name that I spoke, but no one has answered
+‘Tessa.’ Write to me this once, and never
+again, and tell me that you agree, that you are
+willing to break the bond that held us together
+such a little while. I am a man, and a selfish one
+at that, therefore I rejoice that you <em>were</em> mine.
+You can have but one answer to give. I will not
+accept any devotion from you that may hinder your
+becoming the happy wife of a good man. Do not
+be too sorry for me. Laura will expect you to
+write to her, but I pray you, do not write; I should
+look for your letters and they would take away
+the little fortitude I have. Be a good girl; love
+somebody by and by. You have burned a great
+many letters that I have written. This is the last.”
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“F.&nbsp;&nbsp;W.&nbsp;&nbsp;H.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Again and again she read it, pausing over each
+simple, full utterance. He could never say to her
+again, “You have spoiled my life.” She had done
+her best to atone for the sorrow that she had so unwittingly
+caused him, and it had not been accepted
+by Him who had planned all her life. There was
+nothing more for her to do. The letter was like
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span>
+him. She remembered his kindly, gracious ways;
+his eagerness to be kind to her, how he would sit
+or stand near her to watch her as she talked or
+worked; how timidly he would touch her dress or
+her hand; how his face would change if she chanced
+to look up at him; how his pale green eyes would
+glitter when she preferred the society of Gus Hammerton
+or any other of the Dunellen boys, ever so
+long ago, as they were boys and girls together; almost
+as long ago as when she was a little girl and
+he a big boy and he would bring her fruit and
+flowers! On their Saturday excursions after nuts
+or berries or wild flowers, how he would fall behind
+the others when she did and catch her hand
+if they heard a noise in the woods or lost themselves
+for half a minute among a new clump of
+trees.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the long, happy weeks that she had passed at
+the Homestead, in the days when his mother was
+alive, how thoughtful he had been of her comfort,
+how he had tried to please her in work or play!
+One evening after they had all been sitting together
+on the porch and telling stories, she had
+heard his mother say to his father: “Tessa has
+great influence over Felix, I hope that she will
+marry him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I won’t,” her rebellious little heart had replied.
+And at bedtime she had told Laura that she meant
+to marry a beautiful young man with dark eyes
+who must know every thing and wear a cloak.
+“And Felix has light eyes,” she had added.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+She laughed and then sighed over the foolish, innocent
+days when girlhood and womanhood had
+meant only wonderful good times like the good
+times in fairy tales and Bible stories.
+</p>
+<p>
+Then for the last time she read his letter and tore
+it into morsels, scattering them hither and thither
+as she walked.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had done all she could do; he could not keep
+hold of her hand any longer.
+</p>
+<p>
+The last bit of paper fluttered on the air; she gave
+a long look towards the dear old Homestead; she
+could see the spires of the two churches at Mayfield,
+the brass rooster on the school-house where
+Felix had taught, and then she turned homeward
+to write the letter that would release him from the
+covenant whose keeping had been made impossible
+to them. As she turned, the noise of wheels
+was before her, the dust of travel in her face; she
+lifted her eyes in time to return a bow from Ralph
+Towne and to feel the smile that lighted the face
+of the white-haired lady at his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the dusk she came down-stairs, dressed for a
+walk, with several letters in her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Whither does fancy lead you, daughter?” her
+father asked as she was passing through the sitting-room.
+He was lying upon the lounge with a
+heavy shawl thrown over him; his voice came quick
+and sharp as though he were in pain.
+</p>
+<p>
+She moved towards him instantly. “Why, father,
+are you sick?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, dear, not—now,” catching his breath. “I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span>
+have been in pain and it has worn upon me. Greyson
+gave me something to carry with me some time
+ago, I have taken it three times to-day and now I
+shall go to sleep?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you <em>sure</em> you feel better?” she asked caressing
+the hand that he held out to her. “Let me
+stay and do something for you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No. I must go to sleep. Run along. I have
+sent your mother away, and now I send you away.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She lingered a moment, stooping to kiss the bald
+forehead and then the plump hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her father was very happy to-night, for her
+mother, of her own accord, for the first time in fifteen
+years, had kissed him.
+</p>
+<p>
+He held Tessa’s hand thinking that he would tell
+her, then he decided that the thought of those fifteen
+years would hurt her too sorely.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought that you meant to tell me something,”
+she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No; run along.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Along the planks, along the pavement, across
+the Park, she walked slowly, in the summer starlight,
+with the letters in her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Star&nbsp;&nbsp;light!&nbsp;&nbsp;Star&nbsp;&nbsp;bright!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;wish&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;may,&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;wish&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;might,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;See&nbsp;&nbsp;somebody&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;want&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;see&nbsp;&nbsp;to-night.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+A child’s voice was chanting the words in a
+dreamy recitative.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dear child,” sighed Tessa, with her five and
+twenty years tugging at her heart.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+She longed for a sight of Miss Jewett’s untroubled
+face to-night; if she might only tell her about
+the right thing that she had tried to do and how the
+power to do it had been taken from her!
+</p>
+<p>
+But no one could comfort her concerning it; not
+her father, not Miss Jewett, not Ralph Towne, not
+Gus Hammerton, not Felix!
+</p>
+<p>
+One glance up into the sky over the trees in the
+Park helped her more than any human comforting.
+It was a new experience to have outgrown human
+comforting; she thought that she had outgrown it
+that day—the last day of the year; still she must
+see Miss Jewett; it would be a rest to hear some
+one talk who did not know about Felix or that
+other time that the sunshiny eyes had brought to
+life again. Would they meet as heretofore? Must
+they meet socially upon the street or at church?
+</p>
+<p>
+If it might have been that he might remain away
+for years and years—until she had wholly forgotten
+or did not care!
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett was almost alone; there was no one
+with her but Sue Greyson tossing over neckties to
+find a white one with fringe.
+</p>
+<p>
+Through the silks there shone on the first finger
+of Sue’s left hand the sparkle of a diamond; she
+colored and smiled, then laughed and held her finger
+up for Tessa’s inspection.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Guess who gave it to me,” she said defiantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+It could not be Dr. Lake—Tessa would not speak
+his name; it must be her father—but no, Sue would
+not blush as she was blushing now; it could not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span>
+be Mr. Gesner! Tessa’s heart quickened, she was
+angry with herself for thinking of Mr. Gesner. Mr.
+Towne! But that was not possible.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can’t you guess?” Sue was enjoying her confusion.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No. I can’t guess.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Say the Man in the Moon. I as much expected
+it. It’s from Stacey! I knew you would be confounded.
+Wasn’t I sly about it? We are to be
+married the first day of October. We settled on
+that because it is Stacey’s birthday! It is Dr.
+Lake’s too. Isn’t it comical. Stacey is twenty-three
+and the doctor is twenty-nine! Stacey is a
+year younger than I. I wish that he wasn’t. I
+think that I shall change my age in the Bible.
+When I told Dr. Lake, he said that I seemed inclined
+to change some other things in the Bible.
+Don’t you tell, either of you. It’s a profound secret.
+Wasn’t father hopping, though? But I told
+him that I would elope if he didn’t consent like a
+good papa; and now since Stacey’s salary is raised
+he hasn’t a bit of an excuse for being ugly about
+it. I am going to have all the new furniture, too;
+I bargained for that. Won’t it be queer for me to
+live so far away? Stacey is in a lace house in Philadelphia,
+don’t you remember? You ought to see
+the white lace sacque that he brought me for an
+engagement present; it’s too lovely for any thing.
+Why, Tessa, you look stunned, are you speechless?
+Don’t you relish the idea of my being married before
+you? You ought to have seen Dr. Lake when
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span>
+I showed my ring to him! He turned as white as
+a sheet and trembled so that he had to sit down;
+all he said was, ‘May God forgive you.’ Don’t you
+think that it was wicked in him to say that? I
+told him that it sounded like swearing. Yes, I’ll
+take this one, please. And, oh, Tessa, I want you
+to help me to buy things. I am to have a dozen of
+every thing. I shall be married in white silk; I told
+father that he would never have another daughter
+married so that he might as well open his long
+purse. We shall go to the White Mountains on our
+wedding tour. It’s late in the season, of course,
+but I always wanted to go to the White Mountains
+and I will if we are both frozen to death. I
+know that you are angry with me, but I can’t help
+it. You are just the one to believe in love. I have
+always liked Stacey; he has just beautiful hands,
+and his manners are really touching. You ought
+to see him lift his hat; Mr. Towne is nowhere.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What will your father do?” asked Miss Jewett.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Aunt Jane must come back, she hasn’t captivated
+the widower yet; or he might get married
+himself. I think that I’ll suggest it. <em>Wouldn’t</em> it
+be fun to have a double wedding? I’ll let father
+be married first; Stacey and I will stand up with
+them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue went off into a long, loud peal of laughter;
+Miss Jewett smiled; Tessa spoke gravely: “Sue,
+your mother would not like to hear that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, bother! She doesn’t think of me. I want
+some silks, too, please. I shall have to make Stacey
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span>
+a pair of slippers and a lot of other pretty things.
+And oh, Tessa, I haven’t told you the news! The
+queerest thing! Dr. Towne—we must call him
+that now—has bought that handsome brick house
+opposite the Park and is going into practice. Dr.
+Lake says that of course people will run after <em>him</em>
+while they would let him starve!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then he’ll smell of medicine, too,” Tessa could
+not forbear suggesting.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, and have bottles in all his pockets. I’m
+going to see your mother; she cares more about
+dress than you and Dine put together. If your
+father should die, she would be married before
+either of you. I won’t come if you look so cross
+at me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+At that moment Mr. Hammerton pushed open
+the door; he had come for gloves and handkerchiefs.
+Tessa selected them for him and would
+then have waited for her word with Miss Jewett,
+had not one of the clerks returned from supper.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Come, Lady Blue, I am going your way.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Father is not well to-night; he will not play
+chess.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am going all the same, however; you shall
+play with me, and Dine shall read the ‘Nut Brown
+Maid.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+As they were crossing the Park, they met Dr.
+Lake; he was walking hurriedly; she could not see
+his face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What do you think Lake said to me last night?
+We were talking—rather, he was—about trouble.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span>
+He has seen a good deal of it one time and another
+I imagine; his nerves are so raw that every thing
+hurts. For want of something to suit him in my
+own experience, I quoted a thought of Charles
+Kingsley’s. He turned upon me as if I had struck
+him—‘A man in a book said that.’ A man in a
+book <em>did</em> say it, so I had nothing to say. Something
+is troubling you, what is it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“More than one something is troubling me. I
+just heard a bit of news.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not good news?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not see any good.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He repeated in a hurried tone:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Good&nbsp;&nbsp;tidings&nbsp;&nbsp;every&nbsp;&nbsp;day;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;God’s&nbsp;&nbsp;messengers&nbsp;&nbsp;ride&nbsp;&nbsp;fast.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;We&nbsp;&nbsp;do&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;hear&nbsp;&nbsp;one&nbsp;&nbsp;half&nbsp;&nbsp;they&nbsp;&nbsp;say,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;There&nbsp;&nbsp;is&nbsp;&nbsp;such&nbsp;&nbsp;noise&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;highway<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Where&nbsp;&nbsp;we&nbsp;&nbsp;must&nbsp;&nbsp;wait&nbsp;&nbsp;while&nbsp;&nbsp;they&nbsp;&nbsp;ride&nbsp;&nbsp;past.’”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps I do not hear one half they say this
+time; the half I do hear is troublesome enough.
+Some day, when I may begin ‘five and fifty years
+ago,’ I will tell you a story.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will it take so long for me to become worthy
+to hear it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish I <em>might</em> tell you; you always help me,”
+she said impulsively.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is there a hindrance?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is too near to be spoken of.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was not in the mood for chess, but her
+father brightened at Mr. Hammerton’s entrance,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span>
+arose, threw off the shawl, and came to the table,
+saying that he would watch her moves. He seated
+himself close to her, with an arm across the back
+of her chair, once or twice bringing his head down
+to the chestnut braids.
+</p>
+<p>
+“How alike you are!” exclaimed Mr. Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I am very pretty,” replied Mr. Wadsworth,
+seriously.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth had taken her work over to
+Mrs. Bird for a consultation thereupon; Dine fell
+asleep, resting her curly head on the book that
+Mr. Hammerton had brought her.
+</p>
+<p>
+When Mr. Hammerton arose, Mr. Wadsworth
+went to the door with him to look out into the
+night; Tessa said good night and went up-stairs;
+the sleepy head upon the book did not stir.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never can find a constellation,” remarked Mr.
+Wadsworth. “Tessa is always laughing at me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Step out and see if I can help you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+They moved to the end of the piazza leaving the
+door wide open; the sleepy brown eyes opened with
+a start—was she listening to words that she should
+not hear?
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton had surely said “Dinah.” And
+now her father was saying—was she dreaming
+still?—“Take her, and God bless you both. I
+have nothing better to hope for my darling. She
+will make you a good wife.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Let it remain a secret I want her to love me
+without any urging. She must love me because I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span>
+am necessary to her and not merely because I love
+her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Could Tessa have heard his voice, she would
+never again have accused him of coldness.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall have to wait—I expect an increase of
+salary. I am not sure that she thinks of me otherwise
+than as a grown-up brother—but I will bide
+my time. I know this—at least I think I do—that
+she does not care for any one else.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am sure of that,” said her father’s voice. “You
+do not know how you have taken a burden from me,
+my son! I have <em>hoped</em> for this.” Startled little Dinah
+arose and fled.
+</p>
+<p>
+She would never tell, no, not even Tessa; but how
+could she behave towards him as if she did not
+know?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, did you ever have a secret to keep?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes. Laura told me once that she had a gold
+dollar and I’ve never told until this minute.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But this is a wonderful, beautiful, happy secret;
+the wonderfulest and beautifulest thing in
+the world. And I shall never, never tell. You
+will never know until you discover it yourself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I want to know something to be glad of.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will be glad of this. As glad as glad
+can be. It is rather funny that neither of us
+ever guessed; and you are quick to see things,
+too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps I <em>do</em> know, pretty sister.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, you don’t. I should have seen in your
+manner. Perhaps I dreamed it; or perhaps an angel came
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span>
+and told me. It is good enough for an
+angel to tell.”
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Good&nbsp;&nbsp;tidings&nbsp;&nbsp;every&nbsp;&nbsp;day,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;God’s&nbsp;&nbsp;messengers&nbsp;&nbsp;ride&nbsp;&nbsp;fast.’”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+repeated Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa,” with her face turned away, “do you like
+Gus very much?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do I like <em>you</em> very much? I should just as
+soon think of your asking me that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Better than Felix or Mr. Towne or Dr. Lake, or
+any of the ten thousand young men in Dunellen?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, Dine, what ails you? Are you asking
+my advice? He hasn’t been making love to my
+little sister, has he?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No,” said Dinah, “I wonder if he knows how.
+Daisy Grey’s father is dead. There will have to be
+a new Greek professor at the Seminary. She liked
+her father.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span><a name='ch12' id='ch12'></a>XII.—GOOD ENOUGH TO BE TRUE.</h2>
+<p>
+The afternoon sun was shining down hot on the
+head of the soldier on his tall pedestal in the Park;
+he stood leaning on his gun, his eyes intently
+peering from under the broad visor of his cap; at
+his feet a group of children were playing soldiers
+marching to the war; at the pump, several yards
+distant, a small boy was pumping for the others to
+drink, a tall boy was lifting the rusty dipper to his
+lips while a ragged little girl was wistfully awaiting
+her turn; nurses in white caps were rolling infants’
+chaises along the smooth, wide paths; ladies
+in shopping attire were sauntering with brown parcels
+in their hands; half-grown boys were lolling
+on the green benches with cigars and lazy words
+in their mouths; girls in twos and threes were strolling
+along with linked arms mingling gay talk with
+gay laughter; in the arbor seven little girls and
+three little boys were playing school: a little boy
+who stammered was trying to spell Con-stan-ti-no-ple,
+a rosy child in white was noisily repeating
+“Thirty days hath September,” a black-eyed boy
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span>
+was shouting “The boy stood on the burning deck,”
+and a naughty child was being vigorously scolded
+by the teacher, who held a threatening willow
+switch above her head. “You are the dreadfulest
+child that ever breathed,” she was declaring.
+“You are the essence of stupidity, you are the
+dumbest of the dumb.”
+</p>
+<p>
+A serious voice arrested the willow switch: “I
+didn’t like to be scolded when I was a little girl, it
+used to make me cry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The willow switch dropped; the various recitations
+came to a sudden pause. “But she is such a
+dreadful bad girl,” urged the teacher.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa Wadsworth lingered with her reticule,
+three parcels, a parasol, and <em>Sartor Resartus</em> in her
+hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>You</em> come and be teacher and tell us a story,”
+coaxed the naughty child.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Tessa laughed and moved on, to be stopped,
+however, by a quick call. “Tessa Wadsworth! I
+declare that you are a pedestrian.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The voice belonged to a pair of blue eyes, and a
+slight figure in drab.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, now that you have caught me what will
+you have?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ll be satisfied with a walk across the Park.
+Didn’t you know that I was home? Gus said that
+he would tell you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have you had a pleasant time?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I always manage to enjoy myself. How is
+it that you always stay poking at home?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I seem to have found my niche at home. Every
+one needs me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dunellen is a poky little place, but Nan thinks
+it is splendid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I expect to spend the winter away from home
+and I don’t want to go. I don’t see why I must.
+Mother has been promising for years that the first
+winter that Dine was out of school I should go
+for three months, more or less, to an old aunt of
+hers for whom I was named; she has lost all her
+seven boys and lives on a farm down in the country
+with the dearest old husband that ever breathed.
+If I had such a dear old husband I should always
+want to be alone with him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That sounds just like you. I wanted Naughty
+Nan to come home with me, but she wouldn’t or
+couldn’t. You can’t think how thin she has grown,
+and she mopes like an old woman. I had to coax
+her to laugh just once for me before I came away.
+I suppose that I oughtn’t to tell, but I will tell
+you; you are as deep as the sea. You know Dr.
+Towne?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well it is all <em>his</em> fault,” said Mary Sherwood in
+a mysterious low voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did he give her something to take outwardly
+and she took it inwardly?” asked Tessa gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s like you, too. You are always laughing
+at somebody. How he flirted with poor little
+Naughty Nan nobody knows!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How she flirted with him, you mean.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I don’t. She was in earnest this time.
+He made her presents and took her everywhere;
+he always treated her as if—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“—She were his mother.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I won’t talk to you,” cried Mary indignantly,
+“you don’t know any thing about it. You haven’t
+seen how white and thin she is! It’s just another
+Sue Greyson affair; and every body talks about
+how he flirted with her. I comforted Nan by saying
+that he had done the same thing before and
+would again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did <em>that</em> comfort her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It made her angry. I don’t see how she can
+mourn over a man with a false heart, do you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She would have no occasion to mourn over a
+man with a true heart.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you think that he changes his mind?”
+asked Mary anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I think that he does not have any mind to
+change; he has no mind to flirt or not to flirt; he
+simply enjoys himself, not caring for the consequences.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“H’m! What do you call <em>that</em>?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not call it any thing; it would be as well
+for you not to talk about your cousin.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So Gus said; I had to tell him. I’m afraid that
+Nan will die.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, she will not. It will make her bitter, or it
+will make her true.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nan is so cut because people talk.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“When is she coming to Dunellen?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“She wouldn’t come with me! How I did coax
+her! She will come in September. She says that
+she will stay with me until she is married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then she doesn’t intend to take the veil because
+of this?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She did say so—seriously—that she would enter
+a convent—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A monastery!” suggested Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Where the monks are,” laughed Mary, “I think
+that would suit her better.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And believe me—Dr. Towne is not capable of
+doing a cruel or a mean thing—don’t talk to your
+cousin about him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, me! there he is now coming towards us!
+On our path, too. I’ll break the rules and run
+across the grass if you will.”
+</p>
+<p>
+It was certainly Ralph Towne. He was walking
+slowly with his eyes bent upon the ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He looks like a monk himself,” whispered Mary,
+“he wouldn’t look at us for any thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Halt!” commanded the small military voice
+near the monument. He turned to look at the children;
+Tessa was close enough to feel the sunshine
+in his eyes although his face was not towards her;
+he stood watching the soldiers as they tramped on
+at the word of command; her dress brushed against
+him, she could have laid her hand on his arm; lifting
+her eyes with all her grief and disappointment
+at his indifference she met his fully; they were
+grave and very dark, not one gleam of recognition;
+how greatly he had changed! His eyes appeared
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span>
+larger, not so deep set as she remembered them,
+and there were many, many white threads running
+through his hair. Had Naughty Nan effected all
+this? With a slight inclination of his head he
+passed on.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He does look as if he had a ‘mind to do or not
+do’ something,” said Mary! “I hope that he can’t
+sleep nights. He almost slew me with his eyes; I
+can’t see why such naughty hearts should look
+through such eyes!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They don’t,” said Tessa, “a good heart was
+looking through those eyes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“H’m! I believe it!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa had walked three blocks in a reverie, scolding
+herself for her sympathy with the changed face,
+trying to feel indignant that he had passed her by
+so coolly, and trying to despise him for so soon
+forgetting what she could never forget, when, lo!
+there he stood again, face to face with her, speaking
+eagerly, his hand already touching hers.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Tessa, what has happened to your eyes?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Excuse me,” she stammered, “I did not see you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do you do?” he asked more coolly as she
+withdrew her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you not just pass me in the Park?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have not crossed the Park to-day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I met your ghost.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can you not be a little glad to meet me in the
+flesh?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mary Sherwood was with me and <em>she</em> recognized
+you; she saw you before I did.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+He laughed the low amused laugh that she had
+heard so often. “My cousin Philip will believe
+now that he might be my brother—my twin brother—but
+that he appears older than he is. He has
+come to Dunellen to take a professorship. He is to
+be Greek teacher at the Seminary instead of Professor
+Grey. Philip is a rare linguist; he is a rare
+scholar. It is the Comedy of Errors over again.
+I suppose that he did not talk to you and say that
+he was glad to see you again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He bowed, he could not but do it. I expect
+that he thought I recognized him, as I certainly
+did. You will look like him some day, but he will
+never look like you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your distinction is not flattering. May I ask
+a kindness of you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you need to ask that?” she answered hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My mother is homesick in Dunellen. Will you
+call upon her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She colored, hesitating. After a second, during
+which she felt his eyes upon her, she said, “Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Philip’s father and mine were twins; it is not
+the first time that we have been taken for each
+other. He has a twin sister.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And he is like his sister.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, he <em>is</em> like his sister. Imagine me teaching
+Greek or preaching in the Park—Phil is a
+preacher, of course, and an elocutionist. You will
+hear of him; he does not live in a cloister; he is
+always doing something for somebody.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is a <em>disciplined</em> man; I never saw a person
+to whom that word could be so fitly applied.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you never thought of applying it to
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I confess that I never did,” she said laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You can see a great deal at a glance.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is why I glance.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Probably you know that I have come to Dunellen
+to work.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I congratulate Dunellen,” she answered prettily.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that you may have reason to do so.
+May I tell my mother that you will call?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes—if you wish,” she said, doubtfully, buttoning
+a loose button on her glove. “Good afternoon,
+Dr. Towne.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She passed on at a quickened pace, her cheeks
+glowing, her eyes alight. A stranger, meeting her,
+turned for a second look. “She has heard good
+news,” he said to himself.
+</p>
+<p>
+<em>Had</em> she heard good news? She had seen the
+man that she had so foolishly and fondly believed
+Ralph Towne to be; she had learned that she could
+not create out of the longings of her own heart a
+man too noble and true for God to make out of His
+heart. Her ideal had not been too good to be true;
+just then it was enough for her to know that her
+ideal existed. Her heart could not break because
+she was disappointed in Ralph Towne, but it would
+have broken had she found that God did not care
+to make men good and true. And Ralph Towne
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span>
+would become good and true some day. And then
+she would be glad and not ashamed that she had
+trusted in him; she could not be glad and not
+ashamed yet. She did not love the man that could
+trifle with Sue or flirt with Nan Gerard. She had
+loved the ideal in her heart, and not the soul in his
+flesh. He could not understand that; he would
+call it a fancy, and say that she could make rhyme
+to it, but that she could not live the poem. Perhaps
+not; if she had loved him she might have
+lived a different poem; her living and loving, her
+doing and giving, would be a poem, anyway; she
+did not love Ralph Towne to-day, she was only
+afraid that she did. He could not understand the
+woman who would prefer Philip Towne’s saintliness;
+he was assured that his money would outweigh
+it with any maiden in Dunellen—with any
+maiden but Tessa Wadsworth; he was beginning
+to understand her. “She did not ask me to call,”
+he soliloquized. The stranger passing him also,
+gave him also a second glance, but he did not say
+to himself, “He has heard good news.” <em>Was</em> it
+good news that the woman that he had thoughtlessly
+deceived held herself aloof from him and
+above him?
+</p>
+<p>
+“She loved me once,” he soliloquized, “and love
+with her must die a hard death.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How hard a death even Tessa herself could not
+comprehend; she understood years afterward when
+she said: “I thought once that I never could be as
+glad as I had been sorrowful; but I learned that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span>
+the power to be glad was infinitely greater than
+the power of being sorrowful.”
+</p>
+<p>
+That evening her father called her to say: “The
+new professor is to preach Sunday evening before
+church service in the Park; you and I will go to
+hear him.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span><a name='ch13' id='ch13'></a>XIII.—THE HEART OF LOVE.</h2>
+<p>
+The day lilies were in bloom, and that meant
+August; it meant also that her book was written,
+rewritten, and ready to be copied.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, that my poor little book were as perfect as
+you,” she sighed one morning as she arranged them
+with their broad, green leaves for the vases in parlor
+and sitting-room. “But God made you with
+His own fingers, and He made my book through
+my own fancies.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She had worked early and late, not flagging,
+through all the sultry days. “You will make
+yourself sick,” her mother had warned, “and it
+will cost you all you earn to buy beef tea and pay
+the doctor; so where is the good of it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She had read her manuscript aloud to her father,
+and he had laughed and wiped his eyes and given
+sundry appreciative exclamations.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That writing takes a precious sight of time,”
+her mother had remonstrated.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is because I am human.” Tessa had answered
+soberly.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Suppose it is refused.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I’ll be like William Howitt; his book was
+refused four times and he stood on London bridge
+ready to toss it over. I do not think that I will do
+as Charlotte Bronte did; she sent a rejected manuscript
+to a publisher wrapped in the wrapper in
+which the first publisher had rolled it. I suppose
+that his address was printed on it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She had run on merrily as she had placed the
+cool, pure lilies in the vase; but her heart was sinking,
+nevertheless. It had always taken so little to
+exhilarate or depress her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Must you write to-day?” inquired her mother
+one morning in an unsatisfied tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Several hours.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wanted you to make calls with me and to help
+me with the currant jelly and to put those button-holes
+into my linen wrapper.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can do it all, but I must write while I am
+fresh.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The first hour she wrote wearily; then she lost
+the small struggles in her own life and became
+comforted through the comfort wherewith she comforted
+others. Not one thing was forgotten, not
+one household duty shirked, the jelly was made to
+perfection, the button-holes worked while her mother
+was taking her afternoon nap, the calls were
+pushed through, and then Mrs. Wadsworth proposed
+a call upon Mrs. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I promised your Aunt Dinah that I would call.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa demurred although she remembered her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span>
+promise; she much preferred calling some time
+when Aunt Dinah should be with her; Mrs. Wadsworth
+insisted and Tessa yielded more graciously
+in manner than in mind.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Towne received them most cordially and
+gracefully; an expression flitted over her eyes as
+Tessa looked up into them that she never forgot;
+it touched her as Dr. Lake’s eyes did, sometimes;
+what could this beautiful old mother need in her?
+Whatever it might be, she felt fully prepared to
+give it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth was as effusively talkative as
+usual; Tessa replied when spoken to; lively, fussy,
+pretty little Mrs. Wadsworth did not compare to
+her own advantage with her womanly daughter.
+Mrs. Towne looked at Tessa and thought of the
+picture that she had seen; it was certainly excellent
+only that the picture was rather too intellectual;
+in the picture she might have written “Mechanism
+of the Heavens” but sitting there in the
+crimson velvet chair with a pale blue bow among
+her braids and her soft gray veil shading her cheek
+she was more like the daughter that she had ever
+dreamed of—simple, sweet, and thoroughly lovable
+Mrs. Towne was a trifle afraid of a woman who
+looked <em>too</em> intellectual. Would she forgive Ralph
+and trust him again? She was sure that she would
+until Tessa unbuttoned her glove and drew it off;
+the slight, strong hand was a revelation; the girl
+had a will of her own. But might not her will
+be towards him? “I wish that I knew nothing,”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span>
+thought the mother, “the suspense will weary me,
+the disappointment will be nearly as much for me
+as for the boy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile, unconscious Tessa, with the glove in
+her fingers, was far away in the Milan cathedral
+on the wall opposite her, looking into the arches of
+the choir, feeling the sunlight through the glimmering
+painted windows, thinking about the procession
+of the scarlet-robed priests, and wondering
+about the hidden chancel; if the picture were upon
+her wall how it would glow and become alive in the
+western light, the drooping banners would stir with
+the breath of the evening, the censers would swing
+and the notes of the organ would bear her up and
+away. Away! Where? Was not all her world
+in this little Dunellen?
+</p>
+<p>
+“My son is always busy; he rushes into every
+thing that he undertakes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The mother had a voice like the son’s; the soul
+of sincerity was in it; the sincere, sympathetic
+voice, the rush of feeling, love, regret, and sense
+of loss that it brought filled her eyes too full to be
+raised. At that instant Mrs. Towne was observing
+her; her heart grew lighter, hoping for the thing
+that might be.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Towne held Tessa’s hand at parting. “I am
+an old woman, so I may ask a favor of a young one,
+will you come soon again?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you, yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And often?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Then she had to promise again. Dr. Towne was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span>
+seldom at home; she thought of this when she
+promised. She was thinking of it that evening in
+the early twilight as she weeded among her pansies.
+Dine said that it was a wonder that she had
+not turned into a pansy herself by this time.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Daughter, why do you sigh?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her father was seated in a rustic chair on the
+piazza with a copy of <em>Burns</em> unopened upon his
+knee; he had left the store earlier than usual that
+afternoon, complaining of the old pain in his side.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My sigh must be very loud or your ears very
+sharp,” she replied, lifting her head. “I will bring
+you some perfect pansies.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He took them and looked down at them; she
+stood at his side smoothing the straggling locks
+on his bald forehead with her perfumed, soiled fingers.
+“I think that if I knew nothing about God
+but that He made pansies, I should love Him for
+that,” she said at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is <em>that</em> what you were sighing over?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The sigh came out of the heart of the pansy.
+I wish I knew how to love somebody.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is that what you were sighing over?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know how,” rubbing the soil from her
+fingers, “to love when I lose faith. I do not know
+how and it worries me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You mean that you do not know how to honor
+and trust when you lose faith. Are you so far on
+the journey of life as that? Must I congratulate
+you, daughter?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No; teach me.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No human teaching can teach you to love
+where you have lost faith.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well; nobody asks me to!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If any body ever does, look at your own failings;
+that pulls me through.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I understand that,” still speaking in a troubled
+voice, “but all the love and patience do no good;
+people do not change because we love them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, they do not change, but <em>we</em> change.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is not enough for me; I am not satisfied
+with the blessing of giving, I want the other somebody
+to have the blessing of receiving.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We do not know the end.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You two people do find queer things to talk
+about,” cried a lively voice behind them. “If I
+knew what mystical meant, I should say that it
+was you and Tessa. Don’t you want to hear all
+about Mrs. Towne, and what a <em>lovely</em> room we
+were taken into?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, dear, and how her hair was fixed and just
+how she was dressed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa ran back to her pansies; Mrs. Wadsworth
+had found a theme to enlarge upon for the next
+half hour. As Tessa worked among the flowers, a
+poem that she had learned that day while making
+the button-holes sang itself through and through
+her heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“Oh&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;hurt&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;hurt&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;hurt&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;love!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Wherever&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;sun&nbsp;&nbsp;shines,&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;waters&nbsp;&nbsp;go,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It&nbsp;&nbsp;hurts&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;snowdrop,&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;hurts&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;dove,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;God&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;His&nbsp;&nbsp;throne,&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;man&nbsp;&nbsp;below.<br />
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But&nbsp;&nbsp;sun&nbsp;&nbsp;would&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;shine&nbsp;&nbsp;nor&nbsp;&nbsp;waters&nbsp;&nbsp;go,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Snowdrop&nbsp;&nbsp;tremble&nbsp;&nbsp;nor&nbsp;&nbsp;fair&nbsp;&nbsp;dove&nbsp;&nbsp;moan,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;God&nbsp;&nbsp;be&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;high,&nbsp;&nbsp;nor&nbsp;&nbsp;man&nbsp;&nbsp;below,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;love—the&nbsp;&nbsp;love&nbsp;&nbsp;with&nbsp;&nbsp;its&nbsp;&nbsp;hurt&nbsp;&nbsp;alone.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thou&nbsp;&nbsp;knowest,&nbsp;&nbsp;O,&nbsp;&nbsp;Saviour,&nbsp;&nbsp;its&nbsp;&nbsp;hurt&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;its&nbsp;&nbsp;sorrows,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Didst&nbsp;&nbsp;rescue&nbsp;&nbsp;its&nbsp;&nbsp;joy&nbsp;&nbsp;by&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;might&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy&nbsp;&nbsp;pain;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Lord&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;all&nbsp;&nbsp;yesterdays,&nbsp;&nbsp;days,&nbsp;&nbsp;and&nbsp;&nbsp;to-morrows,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Help&nbsp;&nbsp;us&nbsp;&nbsp;love&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;hope&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;Thy&nbsp;&nbsp;gain!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hurt&nbsp;&nbsp;as&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;may,&nbsp;&nbsp;love&nbsp;&nbsp;on,&nbsp;&nbsp;love&nbsp;&nbsp;forever;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Love&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;love’s&nbsp;&nbsp;sake&nbsp;&nbsp;like&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;Father&nbsp;&nbsp;above,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;whose&nbsp;&nbsp;brave-hearted&nbsp;&nbsp;Son&nbsp;&nbsp;we&nbsp;&nbsp;had&nbsp;&nbsp;never<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Known&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;sweet&nbsp;&nbsp;hurt&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;sorrowful&nbsp;&nbsp;love.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not sincere in repeating that,” she mused.
+“I <em>don’t</em> love on, love forever—and I don’t want
+to! If I were in a book, every thing would make
+no difference, nothing would make a difference—would
+love on, love forever—and I don’t know
+how. I wish I did. It would not change <em>him</em>, but
+it would make <em>me</em> very glad and very good! I
+can not attain to it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The grazing sound of wheels brought her back
+to the pansies, then to Dr. Lake; he had driven up
+close to the opening in the lilac shrubbery.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ah, Mystic.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good evening, doctor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+It was the first time that they had been alone
+together since Sue’s engagement. She had been
+dreading this first time. She arose and brushed
+her hands against each other, moving towards the
+opening in the lilacs.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I saw you, and could not resist the temptation
+of stopping to speak to you.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you,” she said warmly. “Will you have
+a lily?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, lilies are not for me. Briers and thorns
+grow for me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Where are you riding to now?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Felix Harrison came home yesterday worse
+than ever. I was there in the night and am going
+again. Why don’t he die now that he has a
+chance? Catch me throwing away such an opportunity.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that you will never have such an opportunity,”
+she answered, not thinking of what she
+was saying.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s always the way; the lucky ones die, the
+unlucky ones live.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can you not resist the temptation to tell me
+any thing so trite as that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t be sharp, Mystic.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was leaning against the low fence, her hands
+folded over each other, a breath of air stirring the
+wavy hair around her temples, and touching the
+pale blue ribbon at her throat, a white, graceful
+figure, speaking in her animated way with the
+flush of the pink rose tinting her cheeks and a
+misty veil shadowing her eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“A very pretty picture in a frame-work of brown
+and green,” thought the old man in the rustic chair
+on the piazza.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she never thought of making a picture of herself,
+she left such small coquetries to girls who had
+nothing better to do or to think of. She had her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span>
+life to live and her books to write! Nevertheless
+two pairs of eyes found her pleasant to look upon.
+Dr. Lake’s experiences had opened his eyes to see
+that Tessa Wadsworth was unlike any woman that
+he had ever known; she was to him the calm of
+the moonlight, the fragrance of the spring, and the
+restfulness of trust.
+</p>
+<p>
+In these weeks of his trouble, had she been like
+some other of the Dunellen girls, she would have
+found her way without pushing into his heart by
+the wide door that shallow Sue had left ajar.
+</p>
+<p>
+His heart was open to any attractive woman
+who would sympathize with him; to any woman
+who would be glad of what Sue Greyson had thrown
+away; she might have become aware of this but
+for her instinctive habit of looking upward to love;
+even the tenderest compassion mingled with some
+admiration could not grow into love with her in
+her present moods; she was too young and asked
+too much of life for such a possibility.
+</p>
+<p>
+In these days every man was too far below George
+Macdonald and Frederick Robertson, unless indeed
+it might be the new Greek professor; in her secret
+heart she had begun to wonder if Philip Towne
+were not something like them both; perhaps because
+in his sermon that Sunday twilight in the
+Park he had quoted a “declaration of Robertson’s”—“I
+am better acquainted with Jesus Christ than
+I am with any man on earth.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The words came to her as she stood, to-night,
+talking with Dr Lake; she was wishing that she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span>
+might repeat them to him; instead she only replied,
+“Why shouldn’t I be sharp? You are a man and
+therefore able to bear it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not much of a man—or wholly a man. I reckon
+that is nearer right. I never saw a man yet
+that a blow from a woman’s little finger wouldn’t
+knock him over.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not any woman’s finger.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Any thing would blow me over to-night. Why
+do women have to make so many things when they
+are married?” he asked earnestly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“To keep the love they have won,” she said with
+a mischievous laugh. “Don’t you know how soon
+roses fade after they are rudely torn from the protection
+and nourishment of the parent stem?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Rudely! They flutter, they pant, they struggle
+to tear themselves loose! Why do you suppose that
+she prefers Stacey to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know all things.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know that. Answer.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She does not prefer <em>him</em>. He is the smallest
+part of her calculations. Marriage with you would
+make no change in her life; she seeks change; she
+has never been married and lived in Philadelphia—therefore
+to be married and live in Philadelphia must be glorious.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then if I had money to take her anywhere and
+everywhere she would have married me. I’ll turn
+highwayman to get rich then. She shows me every
+pretty thing she makes; dresses up in all her new
+dresses and asks me if I feel like the bridegroom
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span>
+lends me her engagement ring when she is tired of
+it. I’d bite it in two if I dared—reads me his letters
+and asks me to help her answer them for she can
+only write a page and a half out of her own head.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa laughed; it was better to laugh than to be
+angry, and Sue could not be any body but Sue
+Greyson.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She says that her only objection to him is his
+name and age; she likes my name better, and scribbles
+Sue Greyson Lake over his old envelopes. I
+would like to send him one of them. I was reading
+in the paper this morning of a man who shot
+the girl that refused him; if I don’t shoot her it will
+not be her fault, she is driving me mad. If I can’t
+have her myself, <em>he</em> sha’n’t!”
+</p>
+<p>
+She dropped her hands and turned away from
+him.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mystic.” But she was among the pansies again.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mystic,” with the tone in his voice that she
+would never forget, “come back. Don’t <em>you</em> throw
+me over; I shall go to destruction if you do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not help you. You do not try to help
+yourself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know it. I don’t want to be helped. I drift.
+I have no will to struggle. She plays with me like
+a cat with a mouse. I do not know what I am
+about half the time. I will take a double dose of
+morphine some night. I wonder if she would cry
+if she saw me dead. Men have done such things
+with less provocation; men of my temperament,
+too. Would <em>you</em> be sorry, Mystic?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+She stretched out her hands to take his hand in
+both hers: “Don’t talk so,” she said brokenly. “You
+know you do not mean it; why can’t you be brave
+and good? I didn’t know that men were so weak.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>am</em> weak—I have strayed, I have wandered
+away—but I can go back.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Long afterward she remembered these words;
+they, with his last “good-by, Mystic,” were all that
+she cared to remember among all the words that
+he had ever spoken to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+She did not speak; she moved her fingers caressingly
+over his hand, thinking how pliant and feminine,
+how characteristic, it was.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know a woman’s heart,” he ran on lightly;
+“she is not a sacred mystery to me, as the fellows
+say in books. I dissected an old negro woman’s
+heart once; she died of enlargement of the heart,
+so that it was as much a study as the largest heart
+of her kind. Sue is going out to-night with Towne
+and his mother—it’s a pity that <em>he</em> wouldn’t step in
+now—she might let us all have a fair fight, and old
+Gesner, too, with his simpering voice! She would
+take Gesner only he doesn’t propose. ‘Thirty days
+hath September.’ I wish it had thirty thousand.
+When I was a youngster, and got a beating for not
+learning that, I little thought that one day I <em>would</em>
+learn it and count the days every night. Oh, that
+rare and radiant first of October! Do you know,”
+bending forward and lowering his tone, “that she
+is more than half inclined to throw him over?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is never more than half inclined to do
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span>
+anything,” answered Tessa indignantly. “I wish that
+he were here to keep her out of mischief. Why
+do you stay so much with her? Surely you have
+business enough to keep you out of her presence.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He laughed excitedly. “Keep a starving man
+away from bread when he has only to stretch out
+his hand and snatch it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have found that your doll is stuffed with
+sawdust, can’t you toss it aside?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I love sawdust,” he answered, comically.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I’m ashamed of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You haven’t seen other men tried.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is no honor to you to be thinking of her
+under existing circumstances.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would run away with her to-night if she
+would run with me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I despise you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You love like a woman, Mystic; I love like a
+man.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that no man will ever dishonor himself
+or dishonor me with love like that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+As he stooped to pick up his glove, his breath
+swept her cheek; she started, almost exclaiming
+as she drew back, flushed and bewildered. He
+colored angrily, then laughed an excited, reckless
+laugh, and gathered the reins which had been
+hanging loose.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dr. Lake,” in a hurried, tremulous voice, “please
+don’t do that. Oh, why must you? Why can’t
+you be brave?” Her voice was choking with
+tears. “I did not <em>think</em> such a thing of you.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course you didn’t! But I will not do it
+again—I really will not. I am half mad as I told
+you. Good night, Mystic.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good night,” she said sadly.
+</p>
+<p>
+He held the reins still lingering.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you ride with me again some day?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I don’t like to hear you talk.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Again she went back to her pansies; the innocent
+pansies with their faint, pure breath were
+more congenial. As he drove under the maples,
+he muttered words that would have startled her
+as much as his tainted breath.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you like it in this world, little pansies?”
+she sighed.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her father laid his book within a window on the
+sill, and came down to her to talk about the buds
+of the day-lilies; her mother fanned herself with
+a palm-leaf fan and complained of the heat; Dinah
+ran down-stairs, fresh and airy in green muslin
+with a scarlet geranium among her curls, and
+after standing still to ask if she looked pretty, ran
+across to the planks to walk up and down with
+Norah Bird with their arms linked and their heads
+close together.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa sighed again, remembering the old confidential
+talks with Laura when they both cared for
+the same things before she had outgrown Laura.
+There were so many things in her world to be
+sighed about to-night; the thought of Felix threw
+all her life into shadow; Norah and Dinah were
+laughing over some silly thing, and her mother
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span>
+was vigorously waving the fan and vigorously
+fretting at the heat and the dust in this same
+hour in which Felix—her bright, good Felix—was
+moaning out his feeble strength. She had not
+dared to ask Dr. Lake how he was; what comfort
+would it be to know that he was a little better or
+a little worse? How could she talk to him of her
+busy life and take him a copy of her book? She
+was counting the days, also; for in October her
+book would surely be out.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You think more of that than you would of being
+married,” Dinah had said that day.
+</p>
+<p>
+“So I do—than to be married to any one I
+know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you expect to find somebody <em>new</em>?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps I do not expect to find any one at all,”
+she had answered.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, don’t be so dreary,” laughed Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+<em>Was</em> that dreary? Once it might have seemed
+dreary; a year ago with what a smiting pain she
+would have echoed the word, but it was not a
+dreary prospect to-night as she stood with her
+father’s arm about her.
+</p>
+<p>
+A new thing had happened to disturb her; Dinah
+was becoming shy and constrained in the presence
+of Mr. Hammerton; last summer she would
+run out to meet him, hang on his arm and chatter
+like a magpie; this summer she would oftener
+avoid him than move forward to greet him; this
+shamefacedness was altogether new and very becoming,
+yet the elder sister did not like it. There
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span>
+was no change in Mr. Hammerton, why should
+there be change in Dinah or in herself? He came
+no oftener than he had come last summer, he
+manifested no preference, sometimes she thought that
+this non-manifestation was too studied; gifts were
+brought to each, were it books or flowers. Did poor
+little Dine care for him, and was she so afraid of
+revealing it? Or, had she decided that it was for
+<em>her</em> sake that he came, and did she leave them so
+often together alone that it might be pleasanter
+for both? More than once or twice when he was
+expected, she had pleaded an engagement with
+Norah, and had not appeared until late in the
+evening.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder what’s got Dine,” their mother had
+remarked, “she seems possessed to run away from
+Gus.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Their father had looked annoyed and exclaimed,
+“Nonsense, mother, nonsense.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s reverie was ended by Mr. Hammerton’s
+quick step upon the planks.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He was here last night,” commented Mrs.
+Wadsworth as he crossed the street.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good evening, good people,” he said opening
+the gate. “You make quite a picture! If you had
+fruit and wine I should rub up my French or Spanish.
+I think that I am not too late; I did not hear
+until after tea that Professor Towne is to read tonight
+in Association Hall; some of your favorites,
+Lady Blue. Will you go, you and Dine?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, yes, indeed; that is just what I want.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is to be selections from ‘Henry V.,’ ‘The
+High Tide,’ ‘Locksley Hall,’ I think, and a few
+lighter things. You will think that you would
+rather elocute ‘The High Tide’ than even to have
+written it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is impossible. Did you tell Dine?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, but I will. It was proper to ask the elder
+sister was it not?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not Leah,” said Tessa seriously, “call
+Rachel.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Rachel! Rachel!” he called, beckoning to Dinah.
+Dinah whistled by way of reply and dropped
+Norah’s arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have you brought me Mother Goose or a
+sugar-plum?” she asked lightly. “And why do you
+call me Rachel?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t talk nonsense, children,” said Mr. Wadsworth
+very gravely. The color deepened in Mr.
+Hammerton’s cheeks and forehead as he met the
+old man’s grave eyes. “Mother, let’s you and I
+go too,” proposed Mr. Wadsworth, “we will
+imagine it to be twenty-seven years ago.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I only wish it was,” was the dissatisfied reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+That evening was an event in Tessa’s quiet life:
+she heard no sound but the reader’s voice, she saw
+no face but his; she drew a long breath when the
+last words were uttered.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Was it so good as all that?” whispered Mr.
+Hammerton. “You shall go to the Chapel with
+me next Sunday and hear him preach about
+‘Meditation.’”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Towne, his mother, and Sue Greyson were
+seated near them; she did not observe the group
+until she arose to leave the hall.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wasn’t it stupid?” muttered Sue, catching at
+her sleeve. “And isn’t he perfectly elegant? Almost
+as elegant as the doctor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will not forget your promise?” Mrs. Towne
+said as Tessa turned towards her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Has Miss Tessa been making you a promise?
+She does not know how to break her word,” said
+Dr. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You do not need to tell me that; her eyes are
+promise-keepers.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Towne kept her at her side until they
+reached the entrance and would have detained her
+until Professor Towne had made his way to them,
+had not Mr. Hammerton understood by the moving
+of her lips that she was not pleased and hurried
+her away.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that I shall never become acquainted
+with Professor Towne,” exclaimed Tessa nervously,
+as Mr. Hammerton drew her hand within his arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why not? I thought that you were wrapped
+up in him as the young ladies say.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Suppose I make a hole in him and find him
+stuffed with sawdust.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You could immediately retire into a convent.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah had mischievously fallen behind with her
+father and mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I could never find my <em>good</em> man?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Must you find him or die forlorn?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+For several moments she found no answer: then
+the words came deliberately; “Perhaps I <em>need</em> not;
+I wonder why I thought there was a <em>must</em> in the
+matter; why may I not be happy and helpful without
+ending as good little girls do in fairy stories?
+I need not live or die forlorn—and yet—Gus,
+you are the only person in the whole world
+to whom I would confess that I would rather be
+like the good little girl in the fairy story! Please
+forget it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is too pleasant to forget,” he answered. “I
+do not want you to be too ambitious or too wise
+for the good old fashions of wife and mother!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How can any woman be that!” she exclaimed
+indignantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“May you never know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What an easy time Eve had! All she had to
+do was to be led to Adam. She would not have
+chosen him a while afterward; he was altogether
+too much under her influence.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That weakness has become a part of our original
+sin.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t yours,” she retorted.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I so different from other men?” he asked
+in a constrained voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Most assuredly. I should as soon think of a
+whole row of encyclopedias falling in love.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton was silent, for once repartee
+failed him.
+</p>
+<p>
+Suddenly she asked, “Is your imagination a trial
+to you?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Haven’t you often told me that I am stupid as
+an old geometry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And I hate geometry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You read, you write, you live, you love through
+your imagination. You wrap the person you love
+in a rosy mist that is the breath of your hopeful
+heart, and you see your hero through that mist. Of
+course the mist fades and you have but the ugly outline—then,
+without stopping to see what God hath
+wrought, you cry out, ‘Oh, the horrible! the dreadful!’
+and run away with your fingers in your ears.”
+</p>
+<p>
+A few silent steps, then she said, “I deserve that.
+It is all true. Why did you not tell me before?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I left it to time and common sense.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It will take a great deal of both to make me
+sensible,” she answered humbly, and then added,
+“if suffering would root out my fancies—but I am
+like the child that tumbles and tumbles, and then
+tumbles again. I need to be guided by such a
+steady hand. Sometimes I do long so for somebody
+to do me good.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her companion’s silence might be sympathetic;
+as such she interpreted it, or she could not have said
+what she never ceased wondering at herself for saying—“I
+am not disappointed in love; but I <em>am</em> disappointed
+in loving. I thought that love was once
+and forever. Poets say so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, but we do not know how they live their
+poetry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know that my poetry fails me when extremity
+comes.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Has the extremity come?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” she said bravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And that is another thing that I am not to
+know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not for five and fifty years. I will pigeon-hole
+all my experiences for you—if there is no one to
+object on my side or yours.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What about the reading? Was it all that you
+expected?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wait a minute; call Dine before we talk it over.”
+</p>
+<p>
+They had outwalked the others; Mr. Hammerton’s
+strides would not be pleasant to keep pace
+with in the long walk of life, as Dinah had once
+told him. It was a truth that no one recognized so
+well as himself, that he lacked the power of adaptation;
+he was too tall or too short, too broad or
+too narrow, too crooked or too straight for any
+niche in Dunellen, but the one that he had found in
+his boyhood by the snug, safe corner in the home
+where Dinah was growing up to entangle herself
+in his heart, and Tessa, lovable and wise, to enthrone
+herself in his intellect. In the game of forfeits,
+when he had been doomed to “Bow to the
+wittiest, kneel to the prettiest, and kiss the one
+you love the best,” in the long ago evenings, when
+they were all, old and young, children together, he
+had always bowed to Tessa and knelt to bewitching
+little Dine and kissed her. Now he bowed to
+Tessa, but he did not kiss Dine.
+</p>
+<p>
+They stood waiting near a lamp-post; he, fidgeting
+as usual, she, straight and still.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Lady Blue, you never put me on a pedestal, did
+you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, you never kept still long enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Professor Towne passed them with Mrs. Towne
+leaning upon his arm; Mrs. Towne bowed and
+smiled, he lifted his hat in recognition of Tessa’s
+hesitating half inclination.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, Tessa! Do you know him?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I almost spoke to him one day by mistake; I
+did not intend to bow, but he looked at me—I suppose
+the bow bowed itself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He has a noble presence! He is altogether
+finer physically than his cousin.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know that he is,” she answered wilfully.
+Dinah came willingly enough; they walked
+more slowly and talked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa,” began Dine abruptly as they were brushing
+their hair at bedtime, “isn’t Gus a fine talker?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is he like Coleridge? He could talk four hours
+without interruption, but sometimes his listeners,
+learned men too, did not understand a word of it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not always understand Gus.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gus does not ramble; he is plain enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dine brushed out a long curl and looked down
+upon it. “I shall ask him to give me a list of books
+that I ought to read.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I confess that while I understand what he says
+I do not understand <em>him</em>. If you do, you are wiser
+than I.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I guess that I am wiser than you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I used to think that I understood people; I have
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span>
+come to the conclusion that I do not understand
+even my own self.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you like garnet? I want a garnet in some
+material this winter. Gus says that I am a butterfly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, you are pretty in warm colors.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa drew a chair to the open window and sat
+a long time leaning her elbows on the sill with her
+face towards the Harrison Homestead. Felix had
+always been so proud of the old house with its tiled
+chimney-pieces, with its ancient crockery brought
+from Holland and the iron bound Bible with the
+names of his ancestors; for two hundred years the
+place had been held in the Harrison name, a great-great-grandfather
+having purchased the land from
+the Indians. He had said once to her, “I have a
+good old honest name to give to you, Tessa.” She
+would have worn his name worthily for his sake;
+if it might be,—but her father would hold her back,—why
+should she not sacrifice herself? Was not
+Felix worthy of her devotion? What other grander
+thing could she ever do? The moon was rising;
+she changed her position to watch it and did not
+leave it until it stood high above the apple orchard.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span><a name='ch14' id='ch14'></a>XIV.—WHEAT, NOT BREAD.</h2>
+<p>
+Early one evening Tessa was writing alone in
+her own chamber; Dinah was spending a few
+days in Dunellen; while Dinah was away she
+wrote more than usual out of her loneliness.
+</p>
+<p>
+Becoming wearied she laid the neat manuscript
+away and began scribbling with a pencil on a half
+sheet of foolscap; the disconnected words revealed
+the thoughts that had been troubling her all day.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Counsel. Waiting. Asking. Deception.
+Years and years. Oh, I <em>want</em> to go to heaven.”
+</p>
+<p>
+A tap at the door sounded twice before it broke
+upon her reverie; absent-mindedly she opened
+the door, but the absent-mindedness was lost in
+the flash of light that burst over her face when
+she recognized, in the twilight, the one person in
+all the world whom she wished to see.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I was wishing for you! Did some good
+spirit send you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been feeling all day that you wanted
+me,” said the little woman suffering herself to be
+drawn into the room. “What are you doing?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Feeling wicked and miserable and wanting to
+go to heaven.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are not the kind to go to heaven, you are
+the kind to stay on earth; what would you do in
+heaven if you do not love to do God’s will on
+earth?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa drew her rocker nearer the open window
+and seated her guest in it, moved a low seat beside
+it, and sat down folding her hands in her lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What shall I do on earth?” she asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What you are told.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not always see or hear what I must do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s a pity.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I could not once; I can now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How can you now?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because I desire but one thing—and that is always
+made plain to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But how can you get over <em>wanting</em> things?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I mean only this, dear child; I do want things,
+but I want God’s will most of all.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sometimes I think I do, and then I <em>know</em> that I
+do not. Do you think,” lowering her voice and
+speaking more slowly, “that He ever <em>deceives</em> any
+body?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He sometimes, oftentimes, allows them to be
+deceived,—is that what you mean?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He does not do it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, but He allows others to do it.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not—when—they pray—about it and ask what
+they may do—would He let somebody who prayed
+be deceived?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett was removing her gloves. She
+smoothed out each finger and thumb before she
+spoke, and laid them on the window-sill.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been trying to think—oh, now, I know!
+Do you not remember one whom He permitted to
+be deceived after asking His counsel?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No. I thought the thing impossible. I do not
+see how such a thing can be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It can be; it has been. What for, do you suppose?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“To teach some lesson. I am learning—oh, how
+bitterly!—that His teaching is the best of His
+gifts.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So it is, child; but oh, how we have to be
+crushed before we can believe it. Is your life so
+hard? It appears a very happy life to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So every one else thinks. I suppose it would
+be, but that I make my own trials; <em>do</em> I make
+them? No, I don’t! How can I make things
+hard when I only do what seems the only right
+thing to do. Tell me about that somebody who
+was deceived—like me,” she added.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He was a priest; he ministered before the Lord,
+and he believed in David, because he was an honorable
+man, and high in the king’s household; so
+when David came to him and said: ‘The king hath
+commanded me a business, and hath said unto me,
+Let no man know it,’ of course, he believed him,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span>
+and when he asked him for bread the old priest
+would have given it, not thinking that in harboring
+the king’s son-in-law he was guilty of treason;
+but he had no bread; he had nothing but
+the shew-bread, which only the priests might eat.
+He did not dare give him that until he asked counsel
+of the Lord. No priest had ever dared before,
+and how could he dare? But David and his men
+were starving, they dared go to no one else for
+help; but the priest didn’t know that, poor, old,
+trustful man, so he asked counsel, and having obtained
+permission, he gave to David the hallowed
+bread. That was right, because our Lord approves
+of it; then David asked for Goliath’s sword, and he
+gave him that, and went to sleep that night as
+sweetly as the night before, I have no doubt, because
+he had asked counsel of the Lord and followed
+it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did any harm come to him?” asked Tessa,
+quickly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Harm! He lost his head; Saul slew him for
+treason; and he pleaded before the king: ‘And who
+is so faithful among all thy servants as David,
+which is the king’s son-in-law, and goeth at thy
+bidding, and is honorable in thine house?’ God
+could have warned him or have brought to his ears
+the news that David was an outlaw, but He suffered
+him to be deceived and lose his life for trusting
+in the man who was telling him a lie.”
+</p>
+<p>
+After a silence Tessa said: “He <em>had</em> to obey!
+I’m glad that he obeyed; I believe that was written
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span>
+just for me. I asked God once to let somebody
+love me, and I trusted him, because I thought that
+God had given him to me—and it has broken my
+heart with shame. I did not know before that He
+let me be deceived; I knew that I was obeying
+Him, but I thought that my humiliation was my
+punishment for doing I knew not what.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now I know the secret of some of your articles
+that I have cried over; not less than ten people told
+me how much they were helped by that article of
+yours, ‘Night and Day.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have three letters that I will show you sometime;
+I know that my trouble has worn a channel
+in my heart through which God’s blessing flows;
+except for that I should have almost died.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You do not look like dying; your eyes are as
+clear as a bell, and there’s plenty of fun in you yet.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The fun and sarcasm are a little bit sanctified,
+I think; I never say sharp things nowadays.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps the answer to your prayer has not all
+come yet; sometimes the answer is given to us to
+spoil it or use as we please, just as the mother gives
+the child five cents in answer to his coaxing, and
+the hap or mishap of it is in his hands. Perhaps
+He has given you the wheat, and you must grind
+it and bake it into bread; be careful how you grind
+and how you knead and bake! To some people,
+like Sue Greyson, He gives bread ready baked, but
+you can receive more, and therefore to you He
+gives more—more opportunity and more discipline.
+To be born with a talent for discipline, Tessa, is a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span>
+wonderful gift, and oh, how such have to be taught!
+Would you rather be like flighty Sue?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, oh, no, indeed,” shivered Tessa, “but she
+can go to sleep when I have to lie awake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now I must go.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ll walk to the end of the planks with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was too much moved to care to talk; the
+walk with Miss Jewett was almost as silent as her
+walk homeward alone.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span><a name='ch15' id='ch15'></a>XV.—SEPTEMBER.</h2>
+<p>
+If Miss Jewett had not been once upon a laughing
+time a girl herself, she would have wondered
+where the girls in Dunellen found so much to
+laugh about. Nan Gerard laughed. Sue Greyson
+laughed, and Tessa Wadsworth laughed; they
+laughed separately, and they laughed together;
+they cried separately, too, but they did not cry
+together. Nan knew that it was September, because
+she had planned to come to Dunellen in September;
+Sue knew, because so few days remained
+before her wedding-day; and Tessa knew, because
+she found the September golden rod and pale, fall
+daisies in her long walks towards Mayfield; she
+knew it, also, because her book was copied and at
+the publishers’, awaiting the decision over which
+she trembled in anticipation night and day. One
+morning, late in the month, she found at the post-office
+a long, thick, yellow envelope, containing
+two dozens of pictures; several of them she had
+seen long ago in Sunday-school books, those that
+were new to her, appeared cut or torn from some
+book; the letter enclosed with the pictures requested
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span>
+her to write a couple of books and to use
+those pictures.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ve heard of illustrating books,” she laughed
+to herself, “but it seems that I must illustrate
+pictures.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Coaxing Miss Jewett into her little parlor, she
+showed her the pictures, and read aloud the letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think it is a great compliment to you,” said
+the little woman, admiringly. “You do not seem
+to think of that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Father will think so. You and he are such
+humble people, that you think me exalted! Women
+have become famous before they were as old
+as I.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You may become famous yet.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t in me. Genius is bold; if it were in
+me, I should find some way of knowing it. My
+work is such a little bit, such a poor little bit.
+But I do like the letter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will be glad of it when you are old.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am glad of it now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She read it again: the penmanship was straggling
+and ugly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know how to talk to you; you remind
+me of Tryphena and Tryphosa; St. Paul would
+know what to say to you. You seem to have no
+worldliness in your aims. Your style is impressive.
+I think that we can keep your pen busy.
+Your last manuscript is still in the balance.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If it be found wanting, what shall I do! The
+suspense wears upon me.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I begin to understand why mediocrity is long-lived.
+Don’t be a goose, child.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Wadsworth was at his desk; he read the
+letter through twice without comment.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well!” she said, playing with a morsel of pink
+blotting paper.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s <em>beautiful</em>, daughter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She wondered why it did not seem so much to
+her as it did to him and to Miss Jewett.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I expect that Dine will take to authorship
+next.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s lips were keeping a secret, for Dine was
+writing a little story. When had she ever failed
+to attempt the thing that Tessa had done? She
+had not taken Tessa’s place in school, and had been
+graduated much nearer the foot of her class than
+Tessa had ever stood; still she had Tessa’s knack
+of writing stories, and telling stories, and had, at
+her urging, written a story for boys, which Tessa
+had criticised and copied; Dinah’s penmanship
+being very pretty, but not at all plain. The letter
+made no allusion to the fate of Dinah’s story;
+somewhat anxious about this, she slipped the bulky
+envelope into her pocket and turned her face homewards.
+Her winter’s work was laid out for her;
+there was nothing to do but to do it.
+</p>
+<p>
+So full was she with plans for the books that she
+did not hear steps behind her and at her side until
+Sue Greyson nudged her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Say, Tessa, turn down Market Street with me;
+I have something to tell you.” The serious, startled
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span>
+voice arrested her instantly. What new and
+dreadful thing had Sue been doing now? Her
+only dread was for Dr. Lake.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ve been ordering things for dinner; we have
+dinner at four, so I can afford to run around town
+in the morning. I’m in a horrid fix and there’s
+nobody to help me out.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What about?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>I</em> haven’t been doing any thing; it’s other people;
+it’s always other people,” she said plaintively,
+“somebody is always doing something to upset
+my plans. You do not sympathize with me, you
+never do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know how to sympathize with any
+thing that is not straightforward and true, and
+your course is rather zigzag.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dr. Towne said—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You haven’t been talking to <em>him</em>,” interrupted
+Tessa, flushing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, only he called to see father and I was home
+alone and he asked me what ailed me and I had to
+tell him that I didn’t want to be married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, what could he say?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He said, ‘Stay with your father and be a good
+girl,’” laughed Sue, “the last thing I would think
+of doing. Father looks so glum and says, ‘Oh, my
+little girl, what shall I do without you! I wish
+that fellow was at the bottom of the sea!’ So do
+I, too. I don’t see why I ever promised to marry
+him! I think that I must have been bereft of my
+senses.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why not ask him to wait a year—you will
+know your own mind—if you have any—by that
+time.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, deary me! I’d be married to John Gesner
+or some other old fool with money by that time!
+You don’t mind being an old maid, but <em>I</em> do!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do you know that I don’t mind?” Tessa
+could not forbear asking.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you wouldn’t be so happy and like to do
+things. I believe that I like Gerald a great deal
+better any way.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She grew frightened at Tessa’s stillness; there
+was not one sympathetic line in the stern curving
+of her lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have you told Dr. Lake that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You needn’t cut me in two,” laughed Sue uneasily,
+“men can’t <em>sue</em> women for breach of promise
+can they?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Answer me, please.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue hesitated, colored, stammered, finally confessed
+in a weak voice that tried hard to be brave,
+“Yes, I have! There now! You can’t hurt me!
+Father said last night that if I had taken Lake he
+would have given me the house and every thing
+in it ‘for the old woman to keep house with,’ you
+know! And then he said that it was hard for me
+to leave him now that he is growing old, that he
+would have to marry somebody that wouldn’t care
+for him, that he never had had much pleasure in
+his life, that Gerald was a good physician and they
+could work together and how happy we might all
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span>
+have been! He was mad enough though when he
+first discovered that Gerald was in love with me;
+he threatened to send him off. But that’s his way!
+He is one thing one day and another thing the
+next! And I couldn’t help it, Tessa, I really, <em>really</em>
+couldn’t, but I was so homesick and just then
+Gerald came in—he looked so tired, his cough has
+come back, too—and when he said ‘How many
+days yet, Susan?’ I said quick, before I thought,
+‘I like you a hundred times better! I would rather
+marry you than Stacey.’ And then he turned so
+white that I thought he was dead, and he said
+something, I don’t know whether it was swearing
+or praying—and caught me in his arms, and said
+after that he would never let me go! And then I
+said—I said—I couldn’t help it—that I would write
+to Stacey and send back the ring and he took it off
+and tossed it out the window! I And then I made
+him go and find it! Stacey can give it to some
+other girl. I didn’t hurt it. I always took it off
+when I swept or wet my hands. Life is so uncertain,
+I thought that he might want it again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Life <em>is</em> uncertain. I never realized it until this
+minute.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now your voice isn’t angry,” said poor Sue
+eagerly. “I want you to think that I have done
+right.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“When my moral perceptions are blunted, I
+will.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Go away, saying ‘moral perceptions.’ I don’t
+know what Dr. Towne will think either. Well,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span>
+what’s did can’t be undid! Now Gerald says that
+I sha’n’t put it off, but that I’ve got to marry him
+on that day. I know that you think it is horrid,
+but you never have lovers, so you don’t know! I
+don’t see why, either. You are a great deal prettier
+than I am. When I am tired, I am the lookingest
+thing, but you always look sweet and peaceful.
+Don’t you think that I ought to please father
+and stay home? Why don’t you say something?
+Are you struck dumb?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not understand it—yet.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that I have made it plain enough,” cried
+Sue, angrily. “You must be very stupid. You like
+Gerald so much—I used to be jealous—that you
+ought to be glad for him!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do like him. I like him so well, Sue, that I
+want him to have a faithful and true wife. O, Sue!
+Sue Greyson! What are you to take that man’s
+life into your hands?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know what you mean. I love him, of
+course! If you think so much of him, why don’t
+you marry him?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The question is not worth a reply.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You ought to comfort me; I haven’t any mother,”
+returned Sue, miserably.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is well for her that you haven’t.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t see why you can’t let me be comfortable,”
+whined Sue; “every thing would be lovely
+if you didn’t spoil it all. Gerald is as wild as a
+lunatic. He shall write to Stacey or father shall,
+or I’ll be married beforehand and send him the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span>
+paper. I could do it in ten days. Do come home
+with me, I want you to see my wedding dress!
+It’s too lovely for any thing. My travelling dress
+is an elegant brown; I got brown to please Stacey,
+but Gerald likes it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s a good idea to choose a color that gentlemen
+like generally; life is so uncertain.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So it is,” replied Sue, unconsciously. “I think
+that you might congratulate me,” she added, with
+her hysterical laugh. “You didn’t think that your
+gold thimble would make pretty things for Dr.
+Lake’s wife, did you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I congratulate <em>you</em>! I hope that I may congratulate
+him, in time. Dr. Lake is trying to
+pour a gallon into a half pint. I hope that one
+of you will die before you make each other very
+miserable.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You mean thing,” said Sue, almost crying.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not mean to hurt you, Sue, but you are
+doing something that is wretched beyond words.
+Don’t you care at all for that poor fellow who loves
+you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gerald loves me, too,” she answered proudly.
+“You are ugly to me, and I haven’t any body that
+I dare talk to but you. Mary Sherwood says that
+telling you things is like throwing things into the
+sea; nobody ever finds them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I must be very full of rubbish.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We are going to Washington on our bridal
+trip; we can’t stay long, for father will not spare
+Gerald. I shall ask nobody but Dr. Towne and his
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span>
+mother, and Miss Jewett, and you, and Dine. Will
+you come?” she asked hesitatingly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will come for Dr. Lake’s sake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I got a letter from Stacey this morning. I
+haven’t opened it yet; it will make me very sad.
+I wish that I wasn’t so sensitive about things. It’s
+a dreadful trouble to me. I looked in the glass the
+first thing this morning expecting that my hair
+would be all white. I’m dying to show you my
+things; do come home with me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue, do you ever say your prayers?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“To be sure I do,” she replied, with a startled
+emphasis.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then be sure to say them before you write to
+that poor fellow.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish that you would write for me. Will you
+come the night before and stay all night with me?
+I shall be so afraid that the roof will tumble in, or
+somebody come down the chimney to catch me,
+that I sha’n’t sleep a wink.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The curves of Tessa’s lips relented. “Yes, I will
+come. If somebody come they shall catch me, too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are a darling, after all. We are to be married
+about noon; Day is to send in the breakfast
+and the waiters—that <em>was</em> the plan, and if father
+isn’t <em>too</em> mad, I suppose he’ll do the same now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She stood still at the corner. “Well, if I do not
+see you—good-by till the last night of your girlhood.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Last night of my girlhood,” repeated Sue.
+“What are the other hoods?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Womanhood.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, yes, and <em>widowhood</em>,” she said lightly.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa turned the corner and walked rapidly
+along the pavement. “Motherhood,” she was thinking,
+“the sweetest hood of all! But I can sooner
+think of that in connection with a monkey or a
+butterfly than with Sue.”
+</p>
+<p>
+At the next corner another interruption faced
+her in the forms of Mary Sherwood and laughing
+Naughty Nan.
+</p>
+<p>
+The lively chat was ended with an expostulation
+from Nan. “Now, Mary Sherwood, hurry. You
+know that I must do several things this afternoon.
+I’m going to Mayfield and Green Valley with the
+handsome black bear, Miss Wadsworth.”
+</p>
+<p>
+It was the day for her afternoon with Mrs. Towne;
+it had chanced that she had given to her every
+Tuesday afternoon. It touched her to find the
+white-haired, feeble, old lady watching for her at
+the window. Tessa loved her because she was cultured
+and beautiful; she loved her voice, her shapely,
+soft hands, her pretty motions, her elegant and
+becoming dress, and because—O, foolish Tessa, for
+a reason that she had tossed away, scorning herself—she
+was Ralph Towne’s mother. Not once in
+all these times had she met Dr. Towne in his own
+home; not until this afternoon in which he was to
+take Miss Gerard driving.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My mother is engaged with callers, Miss Tessa;
+she asked me to take you to her sitting-room, and
+to take care of you for half an hour.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am sorry to trouble you,” said she confusedly.
+“I want to see Miss Jewett; I will return in half
+an hour.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And not give me the pleasure of the half hour?
+When have you and I had half an hour together?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She remembered.
+</p>
+<p>
+“On the last night of the old year, was it not?
+Come with me and ‘take off your things.’ Isn’t
+that the thing to say?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Unwillingly she followed him; he wheeled a
+chair into one of the wide windows overlooking
+the Park, laid away hat, sacque, and gloves, then
+seated himself lazily in the chair that he had
+wheeled to face her own. It was almost like the
+afternoons in the shabby parlor at home; so like
+them that she could not at first lift her eyes; in a
+mirror into which she had glanced, she had noticed
+how very pale lips and cheeks were and how dark
+her eyes were glowing.
+</p>
+<p>
+He bent forward in a professional manner and
+laid two fingers on her throbbing wrist. “Miss
+Tessa, what are you doing to lose flesh so?”
+</p>
+<p>
+With that, she lifted her eyes, the color coming
+with a rush. “Wouldn’t you like to see my tongue,
+too?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know your tongue; it has a sharp point.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am sorry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No you are not,” he answered settling himself
+back in an easy position, and taking a penknife
+from his pocket to play with. The small knife,
+with the pearl handle; how often she had seen that
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span>
+in his fingers. “You are a student, of human nature;
+tell me what you think of me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How could she give to that amused assurance
+the bare, ugly truth!
+</p>
+<p>
+“How many times have you changed your mind
+about me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Once, only once.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then your first impression of me was not
+correct.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With her usual directness, she answered, “No.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The blade snapped. If she had seen but his face
+she would have supposed that he had cut himself.
+She hastened to speak: “Some one says that we
+must change our minds three times before we can
+be sure.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I do not want to wait until you are sure.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am sure now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No doubt. Tell me now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How many times his irresistibly boyish manner
+had forced from her words that she had afterward
+sorely regretted!
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will not be pleased. You will dislike me
+forever after.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Much you will care for that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Shall I not?” smiling at the humor in his eyes.
+“I think that I do not care as I once did for what
+people think of me; the question nowadays is what
+I think of them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will remember,” he said urgently, “that I
+brought it all upon my own head.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How could he guess that in her heart was lodged
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span>
+one unpleasant thought of him? Had she not a little
+while—such a little while since—cared so much
+for him that he was grieved for her?
+</p>
+<p>
+“You must promise not to be cross.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I promise,” taking out his watch. “You may
+hammer at me for twenty minutes. I have an engagement
+at half past three.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Did Nan Gerard care as she had cared once?
+Would the sound of his wheels be to Naughty Nan
+what they were to her a year ago? A blue and
+gold edition of Longfellow was laid open on its
+face on the broad window-sill; she ran her forefinger
+the length of both covers before she could
+temper her voice; she did not wish to speak coldly,
+and yet her heart was very cold towards him.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that you took me by surprise at first;
+I thought you were the handsomest man in the
+world—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have changed that opinion?” he said,
+laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes; I should not think of describing you as
+handsome now; I should simply say that you were
+tall, dark, with deep-set, not remarkable, brown
+eyes, a quiet manner, given to few words—not at
+all remarkable, you are aware.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Go on, I am not demolished yet.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your spirit I created out of my own fancies; I
+gave you in those enthusiastic days a heart like a
+woman’s heart, and a perfect intellect. You were
+my Sir Galahad, until I knew that some things
+you said were not—quite true?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not quite true!” he repeated huskily.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her eyes as well as her fingers were on the blue
+covers.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not true as I meant truth. Your words did
+not mean to you what they meant to me—I beg
+your pardon; do not let me savor of strong-mindedness,
+but I speak from my heart to your heart.
+You asked me a question frankly, I have answered
+it frankly. You said some things to Sue that you
+ought not to have said and that hurt me; I began
+to feel that you are not sincere through and through
+and through. At first I believed wholly in you
+and then I believed not at all. I was very bitter.
+And it hurt me so that I would rather have died.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her tone was as cold and even as if she were reciting
+a theorem in <em>Legendre</em>.
+</p>
+<p>
+“So you died because you were not true, but you
+did not go to heaven because you had never lived,
+and therefore I can not expect to find you again.
+I did not know before how sad such a burial is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why can not you expect to find me again?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“To find what? That fancy? If there is any
+one in the world as good, as true, as strong, gentle
+and sympathetic as my ideal, I surely hope to find
+that he is in the world.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You thought that his name was Ralph Towne,
+and now you know that his name is not Ralph
+Towne.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know what his name may be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You think the real Ralph Towne is a stranger
+not worth knowing?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is a stranger, certainly; whether or not he
+is worth knowing you know best.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She laughed, but not the suspicion of a smile
+gleamed in his eyes; she had forgotten that they
+could be as dark and stern as this.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Time will show you, Miss Tessa,” he said humbly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>am</em> sharp. I did not mean to be. But it cuts
+me so when I think that you can flirt with girls
+like Sue and Miss Gerard. Do you know of what
+it reminds me? Once the enemy fell upon the
+rear of an army and smote all that were feeble,
+when they were faint and weary; it was an army
+of women and little children, as well as men, and
+they did not go forth to war; all they asked was a
+peaceable passage through the land.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The door was pushed softly open; Tessa lifted
+her eyes to behold the rare vision of shining gray
+silk, and real lace, a fine face crowned with white
+braids and lighted by the softest and brownest of
+brown eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My dear.” All her motherhood was concentrated
+in the two worn-out words.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now you may run away, Ralph.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am very glad to,” he said. “Good afternoon,
+Miss Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa could not trust her voice to speak; raising
+her eyes she met his fully as he turned at the door
+to speak to his mother; a long searching look on
+both sides; neither smiled.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, have you been quarrelling with my boy?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, ma’am.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Has he been quarrelling with you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, ma’am.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Towne seated herself in the chair that Dr.
+Towne had vacated, arranged her dress and folded
+her hands in her lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is Nan Gerard again! What a flirt that girl
+is! She called yesterday and Ralph chanced to
+come in while she was here; she gave him such an
+invitation to invite her to drive with him that he
+could not—that is, he did not—refuse. I wish that
+he wouldn’t, sometimes; but he says that he is
+amused and no one is harmed. I am not so sure
+of that. I do not understand Miss Gerard. I think
+that I do not understand girls of this generation.
+But I understand you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish that you would teach me to be as
+wise.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will be by and by. Do you know what I
+would like to ask you to promise?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not imagine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have studied you. If you will give yourself
+five years to think, to grow, you will marry at
+thirty the man that you would refuse to-day. You
+are impetuous to-day, you form your judgments
+rashly, you despise what you can not understand,
+and you are not yet capable of the love that hopeth
+all things, endureth all things, that suffereth long
+and is <em>kind</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is true; I am not capable of it. I have no
+patience with myself, nor with others.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you will wait these five years, your life and
+another life might be more blessed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mrs. Towne! No one loves me. There is no
+occasion for me not to wait. I could promise without
+the least difficulty for the happiness or unhappiness
+of marriage is as unattainable to me to-day
+as the happiness or unhappiness of old age.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not ask you to promise, my daughter,
+but I will ask you to promise this; before
+you say to any man, ‘Yes,’ will you come to me
+and talk it all out to me? As if I were really
+your mother!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa promised with misty eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I promised to show you an old jewel-case this
+afternoon,” said Mrs. Towne in a lighter tone. “I
+wish that I might tell you the history of each
+piece.” She brought the box from a small table
+and pushed her chair nearer Tessa that she might
+open it in her lap. “This emerald is for you,” she
+said, slipping a ring containing an emerald in old-fashioned
+setting upon the first finger of Tessa’s
+left hand; “and it means what you have promised.
+All that your mother will permit me, I give to you
+this hour.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are very kind to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am very kind to myself. All my life I have
+wanted a daughter like you: a girl with blue eyes
+and a pure heart; one who would not care to flirt
+and dress, but who would love me and talk to me
+as you talk to me. I am proud of my boy, but I
+want a daughter.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not very good; you may be disappointed
+in me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not fear that. This, my mother gave me,”
+lifting pin and ear-rings from the box. A diamond
+set in silver formed the centre of the pin; the diamond
+was surrounded by pearls of different sizes.
+“I was very proud of this pin. I did not know
+then that I could not have every thing in the world
+and out of it. This pin my father gave me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa laid it in her hand and counted the diamonds;
+it was a diamond with nine opals radiating
+from it, between each opal a small diamond. “It
+looks like a dahlia,” she said. “I love pretty things.
+This ring is the first ring that I ever had.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“People say that the emerald means success in
+love,” replied Mrs. Towne. “I did not remember
+it when I chose that for you. Perhaps you would
+prefer a diamond.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I like best what you chose,” said Tessa, taking
+from among the jewels, bracelet, pin, ear-rings and
+chatelaine of turquoises and pearls, and examining
+each piece with interested eyes. “These are old,
+too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Every thing in this box is old. Some day you
+shall see my later jewels. You will like this,” she
+added, placing in her hands a bracelet formed of a
+network of iron wire, clasped with a medallion of
+Berlin iron on a steel plate; the necklace that
+matched it was also of medallions; the one in the
+centre held a bust of Psyche; upon the others were
+busts of men and women whom Tessa did not recognize;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span>
+to this set belonged comb, pin, and ear-rings.
+</p>
+<p>
+“These belonged to my mother. How old they
+are I do not know. See this ring, a portrait of
+Washington, painted on copper, and covered with
+glass. It is said to be one of the finest portraits in
+the country. I used to wear it a great deal. My
+father gave it to me on my fifteenth birthday.
+Have I told you that Lafayette kissed me when I
+was an infant in my mother’s arms?”
+</p>
+<p>
+While Tessa replaced the treasures with fingers
+that lingered over them, with the new weight of
+the emerald upon her finger, and the new weight
+of a promise upon her heart, Mrs. Towne related
+the story of the kiss from Lafayette.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was a perfect listener, Mrs. Towne thought;
+the lighting or darkening of her eyes, a flush rising
+to her cheeks now and then, the curving of the
+mobile lips, an exclamation of surprise or appreciation,
+were most grateful to the old heart that had
+found after long and intense waiting the daughter
+that she could love and honor.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the late twilight Dr. Towne returned; Tessa
+was still listening, with the jewel-case in her
+lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have missed my husband with all the old
+loneliness since we came into Dunellen,” she was
+saying when her tall son entered and stood at her
+side.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mother,” he said, in the shy way that Tessa
+knew, “you forget that you have me.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, son, I do not forget; but your life is full of
+new interests. Yesterday I did not have ten minutes
+alone with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It shall not happen again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have persuaded Tessa to stay and hear Philip
+to-night; she says that he is like a west wind to
+her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He would not fall upon the hindmost in your
+army, Miss Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am sure that he would not.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not if they coaxed him to?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He should have manliness enough to resist all
+their pretty arts, and enticing ways.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mother, can’t you convince her? She has been
+rating me soundly for flirting, when it is the girls
+that are flirting with me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It takes two to flirt,” replied his mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Towne was sent for as they were rising from
+the dinner table; Mrs. Towne and Tessa crossed the
+Park alone; at the entrance of the Lecture Room
+Sue Greyson met them.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>had</em> to come,” Sue whispered, seizing Tessa’s
+arm. “Father is so horrid and hateful, and said awful
+things to me just because I asked <em>him</em> to write
+to Stacey. The letter is written anyhow, and I’m
+thankful it’s over. Father says that he won’t give
+me the house, and that I sha’n’t be married under
+his roof. He is mad with Gerald, too, and told
+him to leave his house. So Gerald left and went
+to see a patient. He is so happy that he don’t care
+what father says.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+As they passed down the aisle, Tessa’s dress
+brushed against Felix Harrison; he was sitting
+alone with his father.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why! Felix Harrison! Did you ever?” whispered
+irrepressible Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+The Lecture Room was well-lighted, and well-filled.
+Professor Towne was the fashion in Dunellen.
+During the opening prayer there was a stir
+in one of the pews behind Tessa; she did not lift
+her head, her heart beat so rapidly that she felt as
+if she were suffocating.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Poor fellow,” came in Sue’s loud whisper close
+to her ear. “They have taken him out! I should
+think that he would know better than to go among
+folks.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa could not follow the speaker for some minutes;
+the lights went out, she could not catch her
+breath; Mrs. Towne took her hand and held it
+firmly, then the lights came dim, through a misty
+and waving distance, her breath was drawn more
+easily, she could discern the outline of the preacher,
+and then his dark face was brought fully into view,
+his voice sounded loud in her ears; for some time
+longer she could not catch and connect his words;
+then, clear and strong, the words fell from his lips,
+and she could listen and understand—
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good is the will of the Lord concerning me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+If Felix could have listened and understood, would
+he have been comforted, too?
+</p>
+<p>
+His voice held her when her attention wavered;
+afterward, that one sentence was all that had fastened
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span>
+itself; and was not that enough for one life
+time?
+</p>
+<p>
+At the door, Dr. Towne stood waiting for his
+mother, and Mr. Hammerton and Dinah were moving
+towards the group.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I knew that you would be here,” said Dinah,
+“so I coaxed Gus away from father. I couldn’t
+wait to tell you that your books have come. Two
+splendid dozens in all colors; I had to open them.
+You don’t mind? Gus and I each read a brown
+one; we think the crimson and blue ones must be
+splendid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue drew Tessa aside to coax in her plaintively
+miserable voice, “Come home with me; father will
+say things, and I shall be afraid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t help you, Sue.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You mean you <em>won’t</em>. I’ll elope with Dr. Lake,
+and then Dunellen will be on fire, and you don’t
+care.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m not afraid. He has good sense, if you
+haven’t.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ll come and see you to-morrow, then.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, that will do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nobody ever had so much trouble before,” sighed
+Sue as she went off.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton was in high glee and teased
+Tessa all the way home about her book.
+</p>
+<p>
+“The milk pails were on the fence twice, Lady
+Blue, that is tautology.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, they kept them there.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And the grandmother was always knitting.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“She always did knit.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Lady Blue, you are on the road to Poverty; he
+who walks the streets of Literature will stop at the
+house of Starvation. Homer was a beggar; Terence
+was a slave; Tasso was a poor man; Bacon was as
+poor as a church mouse; Cervantes died of nothing
+to eat. Are you not beginning to feel the pangs of
+hunger? Breath and memory fail me, or I would
+convince you. Collins died of neglect; Milton was
+an impecunious genius; every body knows how
+wretchedly poor Goldsmith was; and wasn’t poor
+old prodigious Sam Johnson hungry half his life?
+Chatterton destroyed himself. I tremble for you,
+child of Genius! Author of ‘Under the Wings,’
+what hast thou to say in defence of thy mad
+career?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t mind him, Tessa,” consoled Dinah, “he
+does like your book; he said that he had no idea
+that you could do so well; that there was great
+promise in it, that it revealed a thoughtful mind—he
+said it to father—that the delineation of character
+was fine, and that it had the real thing in it.
+What is the real thing?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Read it and you will know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If it isn’t asking too much,” began Tessa, timidly,
+“I wish that <em>you</em> would write me a criticism,
+Gus. I like the way that you talk about books.
+Not many know how to read a book, and still fewer
+know how to talk about it. Will you, please?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You overrate my judgment; sentiment is not in
+my line; I have done my share in reading books; I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span>
+do not know that I have got much out of them all.
+My own literary efforts would be like this:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Here&nbsp;&nbsp;lies—and&nbsp;&nbsp;more’s&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;pity!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;All&nbsp;&nbsp;that&nbsp;&nbsp;remains&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;Thomas&nbsp;&nbsp;New-city.’<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“His name was Newtown.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah gave her little shout.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you will not promise,” said Tessa, disappointedly.
+“I’m not afraid of sharp criticism; I
+want to do my poor little best; I do not expect to
+do as much as the girls in books who write stories.
+I do not expect any publisher to fall in love with
+me as he did in <em>St. Elmo</em>, wasn’t it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What <em>do</em> you expect to do?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope—perhaps that is the better word—to give
+others all the good that is given me; I believe that
+if one has the ‘gift of utterance’ even in so small a
+fashion as I have it, that experiences will be given
+to utter; the Divine Biographer writes the life for
+the human heart to read, interpret and put into
+words! And to them is given a peculiar life, or, it
+may be, a peculiar appreciation of life; heartaches
+go hand in hand with headaches.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was born into my home that I may write my
+books; my poor little books, my little, weak, crooked-backed
+children! Would Fredrika Bremer have
+written her books without her exceptional home-training,
+or Sara Coleridge, or any other of the
+lesser lights shine as they do shine, if the spark
+had not been blown upon by the breath of their
+home-fires? When I am sorry sometimes that I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span>
+can not do what I would and go where I would, I
+think that I have not gathered together all the
+fragments that are around loose between the plank
+walk and the soldiers’ monument! Said mother,
+‘<em>How</em> do you make a book? Do you take a little
+from this book and a little from that?’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What did you say?” asked Dine.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I said that I took a tone from her voice, an
+expression from father’s eyes, a curl from your head,
+a word from Gus’s lips, a laugh from Sue Greyson,
+a sigh from Dr. Lake, an apple blossom from Mr.
+Bird’s orchard, a spray of golden rod from the wayside,
+a chat from loungers in the Park, a wise saying
+from Miss Jewett—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s rather a conglomeration,” said Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is life, as I see it and live it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What do you take from yourself?” asked Mr.
+Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have all my life from the time that I cried
+over my first lie and prayed that I might have
+curly hair, to the present moment, when I am
+glad and sorry about a thousand things.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What did mother say?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She said that any one could write a book, then.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Let her try, then! It’s awful hard about the
+grammar and spelling and the beginning a chapter
+and ending it and introducing people!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, it’s awful hard or awful easy,” replied Mr.
+Hammerton. “Which is it, Lady Blue?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ask me when I have written my novel! Did
+you hear from the afternoon mail, Dine?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” said Dine, grimly, “I should think I <em>did</em>
+hear. Mother and I have had a fight! Father
+took care of the wounded and we are all convalescing.
+Aunt Theresa has written for one of us to
+come next week; kindly says that she will take me
+if mother can not spare you; I said right up and
+down that <em>I</em> wouldn’t go, and mother said right
+down and up that I <em>should</em> go, that she couldn’t and
+wouldn’t spare you! Aunt Theresa has the rheumatism,
+and it’s horrid dull on a farm! I was there
+when I was a little girl, and she sent me to bed before
+dark; I’m afraid that she will do it again; if
+she does I’ll frighten her out of her rheumatics.
+Mother will not let you have a voice in the matter,
+Tessa; who knows but you might meet your
+fate? The school-teacher boards with them; he is
+just out of college. Mother sha’n’t make me go!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not choose to go; but I could have all my
+time to myself. A low, cosy chamber and a fire
+on the hearth, no one to intrude or hinder.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But the school-master!” added Mr. Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He’s only a boy; I could put him into my book.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We’ll draw lots; shall we?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If mother is determined, the lot is drawn.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And father wants you, I know; he had an attack
+of pain before tea. I wish that I was useful
+and couldn’t be spared.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“May I not have a vote; I am a naturalized
+member of the family?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You would want Tessa, too,” said Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Would I?” he returned, squeezing the gloved
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span>
+fingers on his arm, whereupon Dinah became confused
+and silent.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa found her books upon the hall table; her
+father, Mr. Hammerton, and Dinah followed her
+into the hall to watch her face and laugh over
+her exclamations.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your secret is out,” cried her father; “at Christmas
+there will be a placard in Runyon’s with the
+name of the book and author in flaming red letters! You can not remain the Great Unknown.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I feel so ashamed of trying,” said Tessa, with
+a brown cover, a red cover, and a green cover in
+her hands, “but I had to. I’ll be too humble to
+be ashamed. ‘Humility’s so good when pride’s
+impossible.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+Several copies were taken up-stairs; Miss Jewett’s
+name was written in one, Mrs. Towne’s in
+another, Mr. Hammerton’s in one that he had selected,
+and in one, bound in a sober gray, she
+wrote,
+</p>
+<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'>
+“<span class='sc'>Felix Harrison</span>. In memory of the old school
+days when he helped me with my compositions.
+</p>
+<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>“T. L. W.”</p>
+<p>
+She never knew of his sudden, sharp cry over it:
+“Oh, my life! my lost life! my wasted life!”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span><a name='ch16' id='ch16'></a>XVI.—A TANGLE.</h2>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth’s strong will triumphed, as it
+usually did, and Dinah was sent into the country
+early in the last week of September, with a promise
+from Tessa that she would release her from her
+durance as soon as one of her books was finished
+and herself spend the remainder of the winter with
+the childless old people who had been looking forward
+to this pleasure from winter to winter ever
+since Tessa was ten years old. Half Dunellen had
+pacified Dinah with the promise of long weekly
+letters, and she knew that Tessa and her father
+would write often. “I am not strong enough to
+write letters,” her mother had said. “Tessa will
+tell you every thing.” “I will add a postscript
+whenever Tessa will permit,” said Mr. Hammerton,
+which queerly enough consoled homesick Dinah
+more than all the other promises combined.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue had not come to talk to Tessa and she dared
+not go to Dr. Greyson’s for fear of influencing her.
+She had met Dr. Lake once; he had lifted his hat
+with a flourish, but would not stop to speak to her.
+</p>
+<p>
+And now it was Wednesday and Sue’s wedding
+day had been set for Friday.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+At noon, among other letters, her father brought
+her a note from Felix Harrison:
+</p>
+<p>
+“I must see you; I want to talk to you. Come
+Wednesday afternoon.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How she shrank from this interview she did not
+understand until she could think it over years afterward.
+In those after years when she said, “I do
+not want to live my life over again,” she remembered
+her experiences with Felix Harrison; more
+than all, the feeling of those weeks when she had
+felt <em>bound</em>. It was also in her mind when she said,
+as she often did say, in later life, “I could never influence
+any one to marry.” How often an expression
+in the mature years of a woman’s life would
+reveal a long story, if one could but read it.
+</p>
+<p>
+Another word of hers in her middle age, “I love
+to help little girls to be happy,” was the expression
+to years of longing that no one had ever guessed;
+her mother least of all.
+</p>
+<p>
+But she had not come to this settled time yet; it
+was weary years before she was at leisure from herself.
+It was Wednesday noon now and Felix had
+sent for her; she shrank from him with a shrinking
+amounting to terror; he would touch her hand,
+most certainly, and he might put his arm around
+her and kiss her; she would faint and fall at his
+feet if he did; he might say that she had promised
+him, that she was bound to him, that he would
+never let her go; that he was gaining strength and
+that she must become his wife or he would die!
+</p>
+<p>
+Why could he not write his message? What
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span>
+could he have to say to her? Was it not all said
+and laid away to be remembered, perhaps, and that
+was all? Then the memory of the old Felix swept
+over her, and she bowed her head and wept for him!
+She had held herself in her heart as his promised
+wife for six long weeks, how could she shrink from
+him? Was he not to her what no other man would
+ever become? Was she not to him the one best
+and dearest?
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder,” she sobbed, “why <em>he</em> had to be the
+one to love me; why was not the love given to one
+whom I could love? Why must such a good and
+perfect gift as love be a burden to him and to me?
+If some one I know—”
+</p>
+<p>
+The cheeks that were wet for Felix Harrison
+burned at the thought of one she knew!
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I wonder—but I must not wonder—I must
+be submissive; I must bow before the Awful Will.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In that hour it was harder to bear for Felix
+Harrison to love her than for Ralph Towne to be
+indifferent.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What are you going to do this afternoon?”
+inquired her mother at the dinner table.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Take my walk! And then the thing that comes
+first”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You never have any plan about any thing; any
+one with so little to do ought to have a plan.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My plan is this—<em>do the next thing</em>! I find that
+it keeps me busy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The next thing, hard or easy,” said Mr. Wadsworth.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Hard! Easy!” repeated Mrs. Wadsworth in
+her ironical voice. “Tessa never had a hard thing
+to do in her life. It will be my comfort in my last
+hours, Tessa, that you have been kept from troubles
+and disappointments.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You might as well take the comfort of it now,”
+said Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not many young women of your age have
+your easy life,” her mother continued; “you have
+no thought where your next meal will come from,
+or where you will live in your old age, or where—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know where all my good things come from,”
+interrupted Tessa, reverently; “the how, the when,
+and the what that I do not know—that I am waiting
+to know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is like you! Not a thought, not a care;
+it will come dreadful hard to you if you ever <em>do</em>
+have trouble.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s tears ever left in her heart a place for
+sweet laughter; so light, so soft, so submissive, and
+withal so happy was the low laugh of her reply
+that her father’s eyes filled at the sound. Somebody
+understood her.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth looked annoyed. Her elder
+daughter’s words baffled her. Tessa <em>was</em> shallow
+and she sighed and asked her if she would take
+apple pie.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa ate her pie understanding how she was a
+trial to her mother, but not understanding how she
+could hinder it. Could she change herself? or
+could her mother change herself?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish that it were easier for me to love people,”
+she said coming out of a reverie, “then I
+would not need to trouble myself about not understanding
+them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought that you were a student of human
+nature,” said her father.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I always knew that she couldn’t see through
+people,” exclaimed her mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not; I never know when I am deceived.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My rule is,” Mr. Wadsworth arose and stood behind
+his chair, “to judge people by themselves and
+not by <em>myself</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, the heartaches that would save,” thought
+Tessa. At the hour when she was walking slowly
+towards Felix, her black dress brushing the grass,
+her eyes upon the harvested fields lying warm in
+the mellow sunlight, and on her lips the sorrowful
+wonder, he was sitting alone in the summer-house,
+his head dropped within his hands. He was wondering,
+too, as all his being leaped forward at the
+thought of her coming, and battling with the strong
+love that was too strong for his feeble strength.
+</p>
+<p>
+When her hand unlatched the gate, he was not
+in the summer-house; she walked up the long path,
+and around to the latticed porch where Laura liked
+to sew or read in the afternoons; there was no one
+there; the work-basket had been pushed over, cotton
+and thimble had rolled to the edge of the floor,
+the white work had been thrown over a chair,
+she stood a moment in the oppressive silence,
+trembling and half leaning against a post; the tall
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span>
+clock in the hall ticked loudly and evenly: forever—never,
+never—forever! Her heart quickened,
+every thing grew dark like that night in the lecture-room,
+she was possessed with a terror that
+swept away breath and motion. A groan, then
+another and another, interrupted the never—forever,
+of the clock, then a step on the oil-cloth of
+the hall, and she dimly discerned Laura’s frightened
+face, and heard as if afar off her surprised voice:
+“Why, Tessa! O, Tessa, I am so glad!”
+</p>
+<p>
+The frightened face was held up to be kissed and
+arms were clinging around her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m always just as frightened every time—he
+was in the summer-house and father found him—he
+can speak now—it doesn’t last very long.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not stay, he needs you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not now, no one can help him; father is with
+him. If this keeps on Dr. Greyson says that some
+day he will have to be undressed and dressed just
+like an infant. He has been nervous all day, as if
+he were watching for something. O, Tessa, I want
+to die, I want him to die, I can’t bear it any longer.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s only reply was her fast dropping tears.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If he only had a mother,” said Laura; “I want
+him to have a mother now that he can never have
+a wife! If he only had been married, his wife
+would have clung to him, and loved him, and
+taken care of him. Don’t you think that God
+might have waited to bring this upon him until
+he was married?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, no, no, <em>no!</em>” shivered Tessa; “we do not
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span>
+know the best times for trouble to come. I shall
+always believe that after this.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He always liked you better than any one; do
+you know that he has a picture of you taken when
+we went to the Institute? You have on a hat and
+sacque, and your school books are in your hand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I remember that picture! Has he kept it all
+this time?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If he asks for you—he will hear your voice—will
+you go in?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I can not see him,” she answered nervously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I will walk down to the gate with you.
+He will be sure to ask, and I do not like to refuse
+him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Walking slowly arm in arm as they used to walk
+from school years ago, they passed down the path,
+at first, speaking only of Felix, and then as they
+neared the gate, falling into light talk about Laura’s
+work, the new servant who was so kind to Felix,
+the plants that Laura had taken into the sitting-room,
+“to make it cosy for Felix this winter,” the
+shirts that she had cut out for him and their father,
+and intended to make on the machine; about the
+sewing society that was to meet to-morrow, a book
+that Felix was reading aloud evenings while their
+father dozed and she sewed, some Mayfield gossip
+about Dr. Towne, and their plan of taking Felix
+travelling next summer. Tessa listened and replied.
+She never had any thing to say about herself.
+Laura thought with Mrs. Wadsworth that
+Tessa had never had any “experiences.” Miss Jewett
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span>
+and Tessa’s father knew; but it was not because
+she had told them. What other people chattered
+about to each other she kept for her prayers.
+</p>
+<p>
+Laura cried a little when Tessa kissed her at the
+gate. “I wish that you wouldn’t go; I want you to
+stay and help me. Will you come again soon?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t,” she answered hurriedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did Felix know that you were coming to-day?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s eyes made answer enough; too much, for
+Laura understood.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not tell him that I know—but I had
+guessed it—I heard him praying once while we
+were away, and I knew that he was giving up <em>you</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa kissed her again, and without a word hurried
+away, walking with slower steps as she went
+on with her full eyes bent upon the ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it so much to give up Tessa Wadsworth?
+What <em>was</em> she that she could make such a difference
+in a man’s life? Was she lovable, after all,
+despite her quick words and sharp speeches? She
+was not pretty like Dinah, or “taking” like Sue;
+it was very pleasant to be loved for her own sake;
+“my own unattractive self,” she said. It would be
+very pleasant in that far-off time, when she reviewed
+her life, to remember that some one had
+loved her beside her father and Dine and Miss
+Jewett! And a good man, too; a man with brains,
+and a pure heart!
+</p>
+<p>
+Her ideal was a man with brains, and a pure
+heart; then why had she not loved Felix Harrison?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I don’t know,” she sighed. “I can’t understand.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span>
+Slowly, slowly, with her full eyes on the
+ground she went on, not heeding the sound of
+wheels, or gay voices, as a carriage passed her now
+and then; but as she went on, with her eyes still
+full for Felix, a light sound of wheels set her heart
+to beating, and she lifted her eyes to bow to Dr.
+Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+In that instant her heart bowed before the Awful
+Will in acceptance of the love that had been given
+to her, even as other things in her lot had been
+given her, without any seeking or asking.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can bear it,” she felt, filling the words with
+Paul’s thought, when he wrote, “I can do all
+things.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Towne drew the reins: she stood still on the
+edge of the foot-path.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My mother misses you, Miss Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Does she? I am sorry, but I have to be so
+busy at home.”
+</p>
+<p>
+His sympathetic eyes were on her face. “I
+thought, that you were never troubled about any
+thing,” he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not—when I can help it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I left Sue Greyson up the road looking for you;
+I could not bring her to meet you, as my carriage
+holds but one; there was news in her face.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I will go to hear.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The light sound of his wheels had died away
+before she espied Sue’s tall figure coming quickly
+towards her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Tessa! How <em>could</em> you go so far? Your
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span>
+mother said that you were here on this road, and
+that I should find you either up a tree or in the
+brook; I’ve got splendid news! guess! Did you
+meet Dr. Towne? He stopped and talked to me,
+but I wouldn’t tell him. He and his mother will
+know in time. Now, guess.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Let me sit down and think. It will take time.”
+</p>
+<p>
+They had met near the brook at the corner of the
+road that turned past Old Place; on the corner
+stood a tall, bare walnut-tree, the gnarled roots
+covered a part of the knoll under which a slim
+thread of water trickled over moss and jagged flat
+stones, and then found its clear way into a broader
+channel and thence into the brook that crossed one
+of the Old Place meadows.
+</p>
+<p>
+These roots had been Tessa’s resting-place all
+summer; how many times she had looked up to
+read the advertisement of the clothier in Dunellen
+painted in black letters on a square board nailed to
+the trunk; how many times had she leaned back
+and looked down into the thread of water at the
+moss, and the pebbles, the tiny ferns and the tall
+weeds, turning to look down the road towards May
+field where the school-house stood, and then across
+the fields—the wheat fields, the corn fields—to the
+peach orchard beyond them, and beyond that the
+green slope of the fertile hill-side with its few
+dwellings, and above the slope the crooked green
+edge that met the sky—sometimes a blue sky, sometimes
+a sky of clouds, and sometimes gray with the
+damp clouds hanging low; thinking, as her eyes
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span>
+roved off her book, of some prank of Rob’s or some
+quaint saying of Sadie’s, of some little comforting
+thought that swelled in grandma’s patient, gentle
+heart, or of something sharp that Sadie’s snappish
+mother should say; sometimes she would take the
+sky home for her book and sometimes the weeds
+and the pebbles and the brook; and when it was
+not her book it was Felix—poor Felix!—or Dr.
+Lake, whom she loved more and more every day
+with the love that she would have loved a naughty,
+feeble, winsome child; or Mr. Towne, of his face
+that was ever with her like the memory of a picture
+that she had lingered before and could never
+forget, or of his voice and some words that he had
+spoken; or of her father and his failing strength
+and brave efforts to conceal it; sometimes a kind
+little thing that her mother had done for her, some
+self-denial or shame-faced demonstration of her love
+for her elder daughter, sometimes of Dine’s changeful
+moods, and often of the book of George Eliot’s
+that she was reading, or the latest of Charles Kingsley’s
+that she was discussing with Mr. Hammerton;
+thinking, musing, feeling, planning while she
+picked up a pebble or tore a weed into bits, or
+wrote a sentence in her pocket notebook! It was
+no wonder that this gnarled seat was so much to
+her that she lost herself and lost the words that
+Sue was speaking so rapidly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are not listening to me at all,” cried Sue
+at last “I might as well talk to the tree as to talk
+to you!”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am listening; what is it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s all settled—splendidly settled—and I’m as
+happy as Cinderella when she found the Prince!
+Now guess!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, then,” stooping to pick a weed that had
+gone to seed, “I guess that you have come to your
+right mind, that you will marry Stacey on Friday
+and all will go as merry as a marriage bell
+should.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What a thing to guess! That’s too horrid!
+Guess again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have grown good and ‘steady,’ you will
+keep house for your father and be what he is always
+calling you,—the comfort of his old age,—and
+forego lovers and such perplexities forever.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s horrider still! Do guess something sensible.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are going to marry Dr. Lake. Your father
+has stormed and stormed, but now he has become
+mild and peaceable; you are to be married
+Friday morning and start off immediately in the
+sober certainty of waking bliss.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” said Sue very seriously, “that is it.
+Every thing is as grand as a story-book, except
+that father will not give me the house for a wedding
+present. Oh, those wretched days since I
+saw you last! I did think that I would take laudanum
+or kill myself with a penknife. You don’t
+know what I have been through. Old Blue Beard
+is pious to what father has been; Gerald, <em>he</em> kept
+out of the house. I should have run away before
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span>
+this, only I knew that father would come around
+and beg my pardon. He always does.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa stooped to dip her fingers in the water.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And <em>this</em> is your idea of marriage,” she said
+quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, it isn’t. I never looked forward to any
+thing like this; I always wanted something better.
+I am not doing very well, although I suppose
+there <em>are</em> girls in Dunellen who would think
+Gerald a catch.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Sue, Sue! when he loves you so! If he
+could hear you, it would break his heart!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Take him yourself then, if you think he’s so
+much,” laughed Sue. “Nan Gerard will get the
+catch!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue, I am ashamed of you!” exclaimed Tessa
+rising. “I am glad if you are happy—as happy as
+you know how to be. I want you to be happy—and
+<em>do</em> be good to Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How Sue laughed!
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you dear old Goody Goody,” she cried,
+springing to her feet and throwing her arms
+around Tessa. “What else should I be to my
+own wedded husband? But it does seem queer
+so near to Old Place to be talking about marrying
+Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We’ll remember this place always, Sue, and
+that you promised to be kind to Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I’ll remember,” with a shadow passing
+over her face. “The next time you and I sit here
+it will be all over with me. I shall be out of lovers
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span>
+for the rest of my natural life.” She laughed and
+chatted all the way home; her listener was silent
+and sore at heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will come to-morrow night and see the last
+of me, won’t you? This is what I came to ask
+you, ‘the last sad office’ isn’t that it? Sue Greyson
+will never ask you another favor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I will come.” She had always loved Sue
+Greyson. She did not often kiss her, but she kissed
+her now.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t look so. Laugh, can’t you? If it is
+something terrible, it isn’t happening to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The things that happen to me are the easiest
+to bear.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue crossed over to the planks and went on pondering
+this, then gave it up to wonder how she
+would wear her hair on her wedding morning;
+Tessa would make it look pretty any way, for she
+was born a hair-dresser.
+</p>
+<p>
+And Tessa went in and up-stairs, thinking of a
+remark of Miss Jewett’s: “I should not understand
+my life at all, it would be all in a tangle, if it were
+not for my prayers.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span><a name='ch17' id='ch17'></a>XVII.—THE NIGHT BEFORE.</h2>
+<p>
+Two of the pretty crimson and brown chairs
+were drawn to the back parlor grate; Sue had
+kindled a fire in the back parlor because she felt
+“shivery,” beside, it had rained all day; the wedding
+morning promised to be chilly and rainy.
+</p>
+<p>
+Early after tea Dr. Greyson had been called
+away; Dr. Lake had not returned from a long
+drive, the latest Irish girl was singing lustily in
+the kitchen; Sue and Tessa were alone together
+before the fire. The white shades were down, the
+doors between the rooms closed, they were altogether
+cozy and comfortable. Almost as comfortable,
+Tessa was thinking, as if there were no dreaded
+to-morrow; but then she was the only person
+in the world who could see any thing to be dreaded
+in the to-morrow. Tessa’s fingers were moving
+in and out among the white wool that she was crocheting
+into a long comforter for her father; Sue
+sat idly restless looking into Tessa’s face or into
+the fire.
+</p>
+<p>
+Now and then Tessa spoke, now and then Sue
+ejaculated or laughed or sighed.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Life is too queer for any thing,” she said reflectively.
+“Don’t you know the minister said
+that Sunday that we helped to make our own
+lives? I have often thought of that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s wool was tangled, she unknotted it without
+replying.
+</p>
+<p>
+The rain plashed against the windows, a coal fell
+through the grate and dropped upon the fender.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder how Stacey feels,” said Sue. “Perhaps
+he is taking out another girl to-night. That
+ring was large, it will not fit a small hand; perhaps
+he sold it, you can always get three quarters
+the worth of a diamond, I have heard people
+say.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s lips were not encouraging, but Sue was
+not looking at her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gerald has the wedding ring in his pocket; I
+tried it on this noon. I wanted to wear it to get
+used to it, but he wouldn’t let me. He is sentimental
+like you. I expect that he is really enjoying
+carrying it around in his pocket. S. G. L. is
+written in it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The rain plashed and Tessa worked; suddenly
+the door-bell gave a sharp clang, a moment later
+little Miss Jewett, in a waterproof, was ushered in.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I had to come, girls. I hope I don’t intrude.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Intrude!” Both of Sue’s affectionate arms were
+around the wet figure. “Tessa is thinking of glum
+things to say to me, do sit down and say something
+funny.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The long waterproof was unbuttoned and hung
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span>
+upon the hat-stand in the hall, the rubbers were
+placed upon the hearth to dry, and the plump little
+woman pressed into Tessa’s arm-chair. Moving
+an ottoman to her side, Tessa sat with her arm upon
+the arm of her chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m <em>so</em> glad to see you,” Sue cried, dropping
+into her own chair. “What a long walk you
+have had in the rain just to give me some good
+advice. Don’t you wish that Tessa was going off,
+too?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa will not go off till she is good and ready,”
+replied Miss Jewett, “and then she will go off to
+some purpose.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Make a good match, do you mean?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If she can find her match,” caressing the hand
+on the arm of the chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Miss Jewett, tell us a story! A real love
+story! Humor me just this once, this last time!
+I don’t like advice and I do like love stories.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you, too, Tessa?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I shall write one some day! They shall
+both be perfect and love each other perfectly. It
+shall not be an earthly story, but a heavenly
+one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That would be too tame,” said Sue. “I should
+want it to be a little wicked.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That would be more like life—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And then get good in the end! That is like
+life, too,” interrupted Sue. “Now, go on, please.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Very well. To-night is an event, I suppose I
+may as well celebrate it. I will tell you about a
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span>
+present I had once, the most perfect gift I ever
+received.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I wanted a love story.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you think that <em>my</em> story can not be that?
+Sometimes I think that unmarried people live the
+most perfect love stories.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Lifting the mass of white wool from Tessa’s lap
+and taking the needle, she worked half a minute
+before she spoke; Sue’s curious, bright eyes were
+on her face, Tessa’s were on the wool she was playing
+with.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Twenty-five years ago, when I was younger
+than I am now, and as intense and as full of aspirations
+as Tessa here, and as full of fun, as <em>you</em>,
+Sue Greyson, I boarded one winter with a widow.
+She was quite middle-aged and lived alone with
+her chickens and cat, very comfortably off, but
+she wanted a boarder or two for company. My
+store was a little affair then, but I was a busy
+body; I used to study and sew evenings. Ah,
+those evenings! I often think them over now as
+I sit alone. I shall never forget that winter. I
+<em>grew</em>. The widow and I were not alone; before I
+had been there a week a young man came, he was
+scarcely older than I—”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue laughed and looked at Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He was to sail away in the spring to some
+dreadful place,—that sounds like you, Sue,—to be
+a missionary!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A <em>missionary!</em>” exclaimed Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Every evening he read aloud to us, usually
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span>
+poetry or the Bible. Poetry meant something to
+me then—that sounds like you, Tessa. One evening
+he read Esther, one evening Ruth, and when
+he read Nehemiah, oh, how enthusiastic we were!
+He talked and talked and talked, and I listened
+and listened and listened till all my heart went out
+to meet him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ah,” cried Sue, “to think of you being in love,
+Miss Jewett. I didn’t know that you were ever so
+naughty!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“At last the time came that he must go—the
+very last evening. I thought that those evenings
+could never end, but they did. I could hardly see
+my stitches for tears; I was making over a black
+bombazine for the widow, and the next evening I
+had to rip my work out! He read awhile,—he was
+reading <em>Rasselas</em> that night,—and then he dropped
+the book and talked of his work and the life he
+expected to lead.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘You ought to take a wife,’ said the widow.
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘No woman will ever love me well enough to
+go to such a place with me,’ he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Just then I dropped the scissors and had to
+bend down to pick them up. The widow went out
+into the kitchen to set the sponge for her bread and
+clear out the stove for morning, and we stayed alone
+and talked. We talked about whether he would be
+homesick and seasick, and how glad he would be of
+letters from home; not that he had many friends to
+write to him, though; and I sewed on and on, and
+threaded my needle, and dropped my scissors, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span>
+almost cried because all I cared for in the wide
+world would sail away with him, and he would
+never know!
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘The best of friends must part,’ he said when
+she brought in his candle and lighted it for him.
+</p>
+<p>
+“In the morning, we all arose early and took our
+last breakfast together by lamplight. She shook
+hands with him twice, and wished him all sorts of
+good wishes, and then he held out his hand to me
+and said, ‘Good-by.’ I said, ‘Good-by.’ And then
+he said, ‘You have given me a very pleasant winter;
+I shall often think of it.’ And I said, ‘Thank
+you,’ and ran away up-stairs to cry by myself.
+That was five and twenty years ago—before you
+were born, Sue, and before Tessa could creep; there
+were wet eyes in the world, before you were born,
+girls, and there will be wet eyes long after we are
+all dead; and always for the same reason—because
+somebody loves somebody.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is a hard worker—I rejoice in his life. Five
+years ago he came home, but not to Dunellen; he
+had no friends here; after resting awhile he returned
+to his field of labor, and died before he
+reached it, but was buried in the place he loved
+better than home.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought of him and loved him and prayed
+for him through those twenty years. I think of
+him and love him and give thanks for him now,
+and shall till I die and afterwards!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why didn’t you go with him?” asked Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He did not ask me.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Would you if he had?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I certainly should.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Couldn’t you bring him to the point? It would
+have been easy enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The gentleman did the asking in those days,”
+Sue laughed. “And wasn’t he ever married?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What a pity! I thought that every thing always
+went right for people like you and Tessa.
+But I don’t see where the perfect gift comes in, do
+you, Tessa?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, but I’m afraid that I don’t want such a
+perfect gift. I couldn’t bear it—twenty years.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tell me—I can’t guess. Did he give you something?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, <em>he</em> did not.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Didn’t he love <em>you?</em>”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, he did not love me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Where is the gift then?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My love for him was my perfect gift. It was
+given by One in whom there is no shadow of
+turning.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not strong enough to receive such a gift,”
+said Tessa looking troubled.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, dear me, I hope not. Oh, dear me, horrid!
+What a story to tell the night before my wedding!
+All I care about is about <em>being loved!</em> I didn’t
+know that the loving made any difference or did
+any good! That story is too sorrowful. Gerald
+would like that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The long ivory needle moved in and out; the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span>
+fair face, half a century old, was full of loveliness.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is for you to remember all your life, Sue.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I sha’n’t. I shall forget it. I only remember
+pleasant things.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder if Fredrika Bremer were as happy as
+you, Miss Jewett. She says that a gentleman inspired
+her with a ‘pure and warm feeling,’ that it
+was never responded to, and yet it had a powerful
+influence upon her development.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Was she <em>real?</em>” inquired Sue. “I thought that
+she only wrote books.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It takes very real people to write,” answered
+Tessa. “The more real you are, the more you are
+called to write.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Slipping off the low chair, down to the rug, Sue
+laid her head in Miss Jewett’s lap, the white wool
+half concealing the braids and curls and frizzes,
+the thin, excited face was turned toward the fire,
+the brown eyes, wild and yet timid, were misty
+with tears.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Jewett and Tessa Wadsworth were the only
+people in the world who had ever seen this phase
+of Sue Greyson.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Lake had never seen her subdued or frightened.
+At this instant she was both. There were
+some things that Sue could feel; there were not any
+that she could understand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sometimes,” said Sue, in a hollow whisper, “I’m
+so afraid, I want to run away; I was afraid I might
+run away and so I asked Tessa to come to-night.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“My dear!” Miss Jewett’s warm lips touched
+her forehead.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, it isn’t any thing! I like Gerald; I adore
+him. I wouldn’t marry him if I didn’t! I am
+always afraid of a leap into the dark, and I am
+always jumping into dark places.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is a leap for <em>him</em>, too, Sue; you seem to forget
+that,” suggested Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You always think of him, you never think of
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is a pity for no one to think of him; if I
+were to be married to-morrow, I should cry all
+night, out of pity for the hapless bridegroom.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, you ridiculous child,” exclaimed Miss
+Jewett.
+</p>
+<p>
+“In books,” Sue went on, still with her face
+turned from them, “girls choose the one they are
+to marry out of all the world. Why don’t we?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We do,” said Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We don’t. We take somebody because he asks
+us and nobody else asks.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>I</em> will not. I do not believe that God means it
+so. He chooses that we shall satisfy the best and
+hungriest part of ourselves, and the best part is the
+hungriest, and the hungriest the best; we may not
+have opportunity in one year, or two years, or ten
+years, but if we wait He will give us the things
+we most need! He did not give us any longing
+simply to make us go crying through the universe;
+the longing is His message making known to us
+that the good thing <em>is</em>. I will not be false
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span>
+to myself, cheating myself by shutting my eyes and saying,
+‘Ah, <em>this</em> is good! I have found my choice,’
+when my whole soul protests, knowing that it is
+a lie. I can wait.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Tessa!” laughed Sue. “Doesn’t she talk
+like a book? I never half know what she means
+when she goes into such hysterics. Do you expect
+to get all your good things?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“All <em>my</em> good things! Yes, every single one; it
+is only a question of time. God can not forget,
+nor can He die. I shall not be discouraged until
+I am sure that He is dead.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“O, Tessa, you are wicked,” cried Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You remind me of something,” said Miss Jewett.
+“‘Blessed are all they that wait <em>for Him</em>.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t wait for my blessings,” said Sue; “I
+want to snatch them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Gently pushing aside Sue’s head, Tessa found her
+work and her needle; she worked silently while
+Sue laughed and grumbled and Miss Jewett talked,
+not over Sue’s head as Tessa’s habit was, but into
+her heart.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue, I shall lose you in Bible class.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never answered any questions or studied any
+lesson, you will not care for my empty place. Gerald
+is getting awfully good; he reads the Bible and
+Prayer-book every night; every morning when I
+go in to fix up his room, I find them on a little
+table by his bed; I suppose he reads in bed nights.
+He used to be bad and talk dreadful things when
+he first came; did you ever hear him, Tessa?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But he’s awful good now; he thinks that people
+ought to go to church, and say their prayers; I hope
+he will keep it up; <em>I</em> will not hinder him. I want
+to be good, too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s needle moved in and out; she did not
+hear Sue’s voice, or see the kneeling, green figure;
+her eyes were looking upon the face she had looked
+down into that evening in January, such a little
+time since; and she was hearing her voice as she
+heard it in the night. Had she forgotten so soon?
+Or was it the remembrance that gave her the unrest
+to-night? Was she conscious without understanding?
+And had <em>her</em> Ralph Towne done this?
+After having withdrawn himself from Sue, was he
+keeping her from seeing the good and the happiness
+of marriage with Dr. Lake? Would the
+thought of him come between her and the contentment
+that she might have had?
+</p>
+<p>
+But no, she was putting herself into Sue’s position;
+that would not do; it was Sue’s self and not
+her own self that she must analyze! If she could
+tell Ralph Towne her fears to-night, his eyes would
+grow dark and grave, and then he would toss the
+feeling away with his amused laugh and say, “Sue
+is not deep enough for that! She did not care for
+me. Why must you think a romance about her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Was she not deep enough for that? Who could
+tell that?
+</p>
+<p>
+She listened to Sue’s lively talk and tried to believe
+that his reply would be just; the one most
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span>
+bitter thought of all was, that if she were suffering
+it was through his selfishness or stupidity. Why
+must he be so stupid about such things? Had he
+no heart himself?
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue was laughing again. “Oh, dear! I must be
+happy; if I am not I shall be unhappy! It would
+kill me to be unhappy! I never think of unpleasant
+things five minutes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The sound of wheels near the windows, and a
+call to “Jerry” in a loud, quick voice, brought them
+all to a startling sense of the present.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There he is,” cried Sue, springing lightly to her
+feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was relieved that she said “he” instead of
+“Gerald” or “Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you will not stay all night, too, Miss Jewett,
+he shall take you home.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not, dear. I only came because I wanted
+to talk with Sue Greyson once more before I lost
+her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Rubbers and waterproof were hurried on, and
+Tessa was left alone with the fire, the rain, and
+her work.
+</p>
+<p>
+Suppose that it were herself who was to be married
+to-morrow—
+</p>
+<p>
+Would she wish to run away? Run away from
+whom? Although her Ralph Towne had died and
+been buried, that old, sharp, sweet, memory was
+wrapped around her still; it would always be sweet
+although so sharp—and bitterly, bitterly sharp although
+so sweet; if it might become wholly the one
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span>
+or wholly the other, but it could never be that; never
+unless she learned Love’s lesson as Mrs. Towne
+had laid it before her. But that was so utterly and
+hopelessly beyond her present growth!
+</p>
+<p>
+Would he despise her if he could know how much
+that happy time was in her thoughts? Was she
+tenacious where stronger minds would forget? He
+would think her weak and romantic like the heroine
+of a story paper novel; that is, if he could think
+weak any thing so wholly innocent.
+</p>
+<p>
+She trusted the emerald ring on her finger; at
+times it burned into her flesh; sometimes she tore
+it off that she might forget her promise, and then—oh,
+foolish, incomprehensible, womanly Tessa!—she
+would take it again and slip it on with a reverence
+and love for the old memory that she could not be
+ashamed of although she tried.
+</p>
+<p>
+Had she been too hard upon Ralph Towne in
+their latest interview? Why need she have given
+shape to her hitherto unspoken thoughts concerning
+his life; she could not tell him of her prayers
+that he might change and yet become—for it was
+not too late—the good, good man that she had
+once believed him to be. He had taken away her
+faith in himself; he might give it back, grown
+stronger, if he would. If he only would!
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Greyson’s step was in the hall; Sue’s voice
+was less excited, her father was speaking quietly to
+her. Sue, poor Sue! She would never be again
+the free, wild Sue Greyson that she was to-night.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa felt Dr. Lake’s mood; she could have written
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span>
+out his thoughts, as he drove homeward in the
+rain; she dreaded his hilarious entrance, how his
+eyes would shine, with tears close behind them!
+</p>
+<p>
+Her reverie was interrupted by the entrance that
+she dreaded. “Ah, Mystic, praying for my happiness
+here alone! I know you are. I come to be
+congratulated.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I congratulate you,” she said rising and taking
+his hand. Not so very long afterward, when she saw
+his cold, dead hands folded together and touched
+them, she remembered with starting tears this soft,
+hot, clinging clasp.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You didn’t dream of this two months ago, did
+you?” he cried, dropping into the chair that Sue
+had been sitting in. “You didn’t know that I was
+born under a lucky star despite all my woeful past.
+I have turned over a new leaf; I turned it over to-night
+in the rain; it is chapter first. Such a white
+page, Mystic. Don’t you want to write something
+on it for me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wouldn’t dare.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, yes, you would! What do you wish for
+me? Write that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish for you—” she rolled the white wool over
+her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, go on! Something that must come true!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“—The love that suffers long and is <em>kind</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Whew!” He drew a long breath. “There is
+no place for that in me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue entered noisily. She did every thing noisily.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Come here, Susan.” Dr. Lake caught her in
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span>
+his arms, but she slipped through them, moving to
+Tessa’s side, seating herself upon the rug, and resting
+both hands in Tessa’s lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was reading the other day”—he stooped to
+smooth Sue’s flounce—“of a fellow who fell dead
+upon his wedding day, as soon as the knot was
+tied. Perhaps it was tied too tight and choked him.
+Suppose I drop dead, Susan, will you like to be a
+bewitching young widow so soon? Whom would
+you find to flirt with before night?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gerald, you are wicked!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Probably this bridegroom had heart disease. I
+haven’t heart disease, except for you, my Shrine,
+my Heart’s Desire.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t he wretched, Tessa? He tells me all kinds
+of stories about people dying of joy!”
+</p>
+<p>
+He bent forward, drawing her towards him backward,
+and with both arms around her, kissed the
+top of her head and her forehead.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You mustn’t do so before folks,” said Sue shaking
+herself free.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mystic isn’t folks! She is my guardian angel.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know that you would rather have married
+her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But she wouldn’t rather have married me, would
+you, Mystic?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t imagine it,” returned Tessa, as seriously
+as he had spoken. “Set your jealous heart at rest,
+Sue.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never thought of it, but once in my life,” he
+continued, musingly, “and that was when I was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span>
+down in the deeps about you, Susan; I did think
+that she might drag me out—a drowning man, you
+know, will catch at a straw. It was one night
+when she was weeding her pansies and refused to
+ride with me. I’m glad that you never <em>did</em> refuse
+me, Mystic, you couldn’t be setting there so
+composedly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, yes, I would; I should have known that
+you were insane.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was insane—all one week.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I believe that,” said Sue.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder what we shall all be thinking about
+the next time that we three sit here together! It
+will be too late for us to go back then, Susan; the
+die will be cast, the Rubicon crossed, another poor
+man undone forever. Are you regretting it, child?”
+drawing her again towards him backward and gazing
+down into her face. “Shall we quit at this last
+last minute? Speak the word! You never shall
+throw it up at me, that I urged you into it. It will
+be a mess for us if we do hate each other after
+awhile.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will never hate you, Gerald.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I might hate you, though, who knows?”
+smoothing her hair with his graceful, weak hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then Tessa shall be peacemaker,” said Sue
+straightening herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No; I will not,” replied Tessa, gathering her
+work and rising. “Sue, you will find me up-stairs.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I’m coming, too; I don’t want to stay and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span>
+be sentimental. Gerald will talk—I know him—and
+I will cry, and how I would look to-morrow!
+I want you to do a little fixing for me and to try
+my hair low and then high.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I like it high,” said Dr. Lake.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t. I like it low. Tessa you shall try it
+low, like Nan Gerard’s. Say, Gerald, shall I put
+on my dress after she has fixed my hair and come
+down and let you see it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think I have seen it. Didn’t you try it on
+for me and tell me that that fellow liked it? I
+hate that dress; if you dress to please me, you will
+wear the one you have on now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“This old thing! I see myself. No, I shall wear
+my wedding dress. It fits to perfection. I want
+to look pretty once in my life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will never look prettier than you do this
+minute! Come here,” opening his arms towards
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I won’t. Let me alone, Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was already on the stairs; Sue ran towards
+her laughing and screaming, the parlor door was
+closed with a bang.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now he’s angry,” cried Sue, tripping on the
+stairs. “I don’t care; he wants me to stay and
+talk sentiment, and I <em>hate</em> being sentimental. And,
+Tessa, you sha’n’t talk to me, either.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Where is your father?” inquired Tessa, standing
+on the threshold of Sue’s chamber.
+</p>
+<p>
+“In the dining-room drying his feet and drinking
+a cup of coffee.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t you want to go down and say good night?
+He will lose every thing when he loses you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue hesitated. “I don’t know how to be tender
+and loving, I should make a fool of myself; he isn’t
+over and above pleased with this thing anyway;
+he never did pet me as your father has petted you.
+Your father is like a mother. He said once when
+I was a little girl that he wished that I had died
+and Freddie had lived; Freddie was two years older
+and as bright as a button. Father loved him. I
+shall never forget that; I shall never forgive him no
+matter how kind he is to me. And he swears at me
+when he is angry with me; he used to, but Gerald
+told him that he should not swear at <em>his</em> wife! Father
+said that he didn’t mean any thing by it. Gerald
+will be kinder to me than father has been; father
+swears at me in one breath and calls me the comfort
+of his old age in the next. You can’t turn him
+into your father if you talk about him all night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But he will be glad if you go down; he will
+think of it some day and so will you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He isn’t sentimental and I can’t be. Besides I
+have some things to put into my trunk, and I want
+to put a ruffle into my wrapper that I may have it
+all ready. It’s eleven o’clock now; we shall not be
+asleep to-night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa urged no more; it was not her father who
+was drying his feet and drinking his coffee down-stairs
+alone on the night before her wedding day.
+How he would look at her and take her into his
+arms with tears.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue opened her trunk. “Gerald’s things are all
+in. It does seem queer to have his things packed
+up with mine. And when we come home every
+thing will go on just the same only I shall be Mrs.
+Lake instead of Miss Greyson.”
+</p>
+<p>
+As Tessa stood behind her arranging her hair,
+She said, “There, I like that. I almost look like
+Nan Gerard. What do you think she said to-day?
+She was here with Mary Sherwood to see father
+and they saw Mr. Ralph in my album. ‘That’s
+the man I intend to marry,’ she said, ‘eyes, money,
+and all.’ Mary scolded her but she only laughed.
+She said that if she couldn’t get him, she should
+take the professor, for he was just as handsome
+and could talk about something beside paregoric
+and postmortem examinations.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa said nothing. How she had pitied Nan
+Gerard, and how harshly she had misjudged Dr.
+Towne. She was awakened in the night by Sue’s
+voice—
+</p>
+<p>
+“Put your arm around me, Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The long night ended at last in the dull dawn,
+for it was raining still. Tessa had slept fitfully;
+Sue had lain perfectly quiet, not speaking again
+or moving.
+</p>
+<p>
+At eleven o’clock Sue and Dr. Lake were married.
+Dr. Greyson sat with his head in his hands,
+turned away from them, his broad frame shaking
+from head to foot; Tessa did not look at Dr. Lake:
+she sat on a sofa beside Mrs. Towne, with her eyes
+fixed on the carpet. Sue cried and laughed together
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span>
+when her father kissed her; she drew herself
+to the full height of Mrs. Gerald Lake, when
+Dr. Towne shook hands with her. At half past
+twelve the bride and bridegroom were driven to
+the depot; Tessa remained to give a few orders
+to the servants, and was then taken home in Dr.
+Towne’s carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It seems to me as lonely as a funeral,” she said;
+“and Sue is laughing and eating chocolate cream
+drops this very minute. Marriage should be a leap
+into the sunshine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope that yours will be,” her companion said
+in his gravest tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If it ever <em>is</em>, you may rest assured that it will
+be. It will be the very happiest sunshine that ever
+shone out of heaven.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was learning to talk to Dr. Towne as easily
+as she talked to her father, for he was the one man
+in the world that she was sure that she would never
+marry; she knew that he desired it as little as she
+did herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why will it be so happy?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because I shall wait till I am <em>satisfied</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Satisfied with him? You will never be that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I shall wither in single blessedness; I
+shall be unhappily not married instead of unhappily
+married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Philip Towne is your ideal.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know it,” she said. “I like to think that he
+is in the world. He makes me as happy as a
+pansy.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Women are never happy with their ideals.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They seldom have an opportunity of testing
+it; Professor Towne has a pure heart and he has
+brains.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Towne answered in words that she never
+forgot, “That is what he says of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I am so glad! I like to have that said of
+me better than any thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She remembered, but she would not tell him,
+that a lady had said of him, having seen him but
+a few moments, and not having heard him speak,
+that he was a “rock.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And I love rocks and know all about them,”
+she had added.
+</p>
+<p>
+“They give shadow in a weary land,” Tessa had
+thought. “I have been in a weary land and he has
+<em>not</em> been a shadow to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+After a silent moment he spoke, “Don’t you
+think that you were rather hard on me last week?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” she said frankly, “I have thought it all
+over; I intended to tell you that I was sorry; I <em>am</em>
+sorry; I will not do so again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Till next time?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There shall not be any next time; in my
+thoughts I have been very unjust to you; I have
+come nearer hating, really <em>hating</em> you, than any
+other person I ever knew. I am sorry; I am always
+sorry to be unjust.”
+</p>
+<p>
+One look into the sunshiny eyes satisfied her
+that she was forgiven. It almost seemed as if
+they were on the old confidential footing.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have you gathered any autumn leaves?” he
+asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, some beautiful ones. I did not get any
+last year—” She stopped, confused.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had lived through her year without him.
+Was he remembering last October, too?
+</p>
+<p>
+About sunset it cleared; she was glad for Dr.
+Lake’s sake; about the bride she did not think;
+Sue would be thankful if none of her bridal finery
+were spoiled.
+</p>
+<p>
+The evening mail brought a letter from Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+There were two pieces of news in it, in both of
+which Tessa was interested. The school-master
+was twenty-one years of age, “a lovable fellow,
+the room grows dark when he goes out of it, and
+he likes best the books that I do.” This came first,
+she read on to find that Professor Towne’s mother
+and sister had come this summer to the house over
+the way, that Miss Towne was “perfectly lovely”
+and had been an invalid for fifteen years, not having
+put her foot to the ground in all that time; she
+could move about on the first floor, but passed most
+of her time in a chair, reading, writing, and doing
+the most beautiful fancy work. She was beautiful,
+like Professor Towne, but the mother was only a
+fussy old lady. Her name was Sarepta!
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah’s letters were rather apt to be ecstatic and
+incoherent. Tessa wrote five pages in her book
+that night and a foolscap sheet to Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+She fell asleep thinking of what Professor Towne
+had said about her.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span><a name='ch18' id='ch18'></a>XVIII.—MOODS.</h2>
+<p>
+All through the month of October she felt cross,
+sometimes she looked cross, but she did not speak
+one cross word, not even once; she was not what
+we call “sweet” in her happiest moods, but she
+was thoroughly sound in her temper and often a
+little, just a very little, sharp. Never sharp to
+her father, however, because she reverenced him,
+and never to her mother because she was pitiful
+towards her; she could appreciate so few of life’s
+best havings and givings, that Tessa could never
+make her enjoyment less by speaking the thoughts
+that, at times, almost forced their own utterance;
+therefore her mood was kept to herself all through
+the month.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was no month in the year that she loved
+as well as she loved October; in any of its days it
+was a trial to be kept within doors.
+</p>
+<p>
+She would have phrased her mood as “cross”
+if she had had the leisure or the inclination to
+keep a diary; she had kept a journal during the
+first year of her friendship with Ralph Towne and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span>
+had burned it before the year was ended in one of
+her times of being ashamed of herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+One of the happenings that irritated her was the
+finding in her desk a scrap of a rhyme that she
+had written one summer day after a talk with
+Ralph Towne; she dropped it into the parlor grate
+chiding herself for ever having been so nonsensical
+and congratulating herself upon having outgrown
+it.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was called <em>The Silent Side</em> and was the story
+of a maiden wandering in the twilight up a lane
+bordered with daisies, somebody didn’t come and
+her eyes grew tired of watching and her heart
+beat faint with waiting, so she wandered down
+the daisy-bordered lane! She did feel a little tender
+over the last lines even if she were laughing
+over it:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Father,’&nbsp;&nbsp;she&nbsp;&nbsp;said,&nbsp;&nbsp;‘I&nbsp;&nbsp;may&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;say,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But&nbsp;&nbsp;will&nbsp;&nbsp;<em>you</em>&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;tell&nbsp;&nbsp;him&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;love&nbsp;&nbsp;him&nbsp;&nbsp;so?”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Had any one in all the world of maidenhood beside
+her ever prayed such a prayer? Old words
+came to her: “Thou knowest my foolishness.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The rhyme was dated the afternoon that Ralph
+Towne had said—but what right had she to remember
+anything that he had said? He had
+forgotten and despised her for remembering; but
+he could not despise her as much as she despised
+herself!
+</p>
+<p>
+Why was it that understanding him as she certainly
+did understand him, that she knew that she
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span>
+would fly to the ends of the earth with him if he
+should take her hand and say, “Come”; that is,
+she was <em>afraid</em> that she would. It was no marvel
+that the knowledge gave her a feeling of discomfort,
+of intense dissatisfaction with herself; how woefully
+wrong she must be for such a thing to be true!
+</p>
+<p>
+On the blank side of a sheet of manuscript, she
+scribbled a stanza that haunted her; it gave expression
+to the life she had lived during the two
+years just passed.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“A&nbsp;&nbsp;nightingale&nbsp;&nbsp;made&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;mistake;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;She&nbsp;&nbsp;sang&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;few&nbsp;&nbsp;notes&nbsp;&nbsp;out&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;tune;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Her&nbsp;&nbsp;heart&nbsp;&nbsp;was&nbsp;&nbsp;ready&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;break,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;she&nbsp;&nbsp;hid&nbsp;&nbsp;from&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;moon.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+In this month her book was accepted; that check
+for two hundred and six dollars gave pleasure that
+she and others remembered all their lives; with this
+check came one for fifteen dollars for Dinah; she almost
+laughed her crossness away over Dine’s little
+check.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dine’s reply was characteristic:
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thus endeth my first and last venture upon the
+literary sea; I follow in your wake no longer.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If it were matrimony now—
+</p>
+<p>
+“John (isn’t John a grand, strong name?) doesn’t
+like literary women. He reads Owen Meredith to
+me, and Miss Mulock. He says that I am like Miss
+Mulock’s <em>Edna</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Each letter of Dine’s teemed with praises of John
+Woodstock; she thought that he was like Adam
+Bede, or Ninian in “Head of the Family,” or perhaps
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span>
+Max in “A Life for a Life”; she was lonely
+all day long without him, and as happy as she
+could be on earth with him all the long evenings.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa frowned over the letters; Dine made no
+allusion to him in letters written to her father and
+mother; her whole loving, girlish heart she poured
+out to Tessa. And Tessa cried over them and
+prayed over them.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue returned from her bridal tour undeniably
+miserable; even the radiant mood of Dr. Lake was
+much subdued. Tessa met them together at Mrs.
+Towne’s one evening, two days after the coming
+home, and was cut to the heart by their manner
+towards each other: she was defiant; he, imploring.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m sorry I’m married any way,” she exclaimed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t say that,” he remonstrated, his face flushing
+painfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will say it—I <em>do</em> say it! I <em>am</em> sorry!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know that you don’t mean it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I do mean it, too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Towne glanced at Tessa and gave an embarrassed
+laugh. Mrs. Towne’s expression became
+severe; Tessa could have shaken Sue. Nan Gerard
+turned on the music stool with her most perfect
+laugh; Tessa could have shaken <em>her</em> for the enlightenment
+that ran through it.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We will have no more music after that,” said
+Professor Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue bade Tessa good night holding both her
+hands. “I wish I had married Stacey,” she whispered.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t tell Dr. Lake, I beg of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, he knows it. Come and see me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I will not. You shall not talk to me about
+your husband.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will if I want to. You must come.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do come,” urged Dr. Lake coming towards
+them. But she would not promise.
+</p>
+<p>
+The last Saturday evening in October found Tessa
+alone before the fire in Mrs. Towne’s sitting-room;
+Mrs. Towne was not well, and had sent for her to
+come; she had gone to her sleeping room immediately
+after tea, and asked Tessa to come to her in
+two hours.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was in a “mood”; so she called it to herself,
+a mood in which self-analysis held the prominent
+place; her heart was aching, she knew not for
+what, she hardly cared, if the aching might be
+taken away and she could go to sleep and then
+awake to find the sun shining.
+</p>
+<p>
+For the last hour she had been curled up in a
+crimson velvet chair, part of the time with her
+head bowed upon the arm; there were tears on her
+eyelashes, on her fingers, and on the crimson velvet.
+In the low light, she was but a gray figure crowned
+with chestnut braids, and only that Ralph Towne
+saw when he entered noiselessly through the half
+open door.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa thought that no one in the world moved
+so gently or touched her so lightly as Ralph Towne.
+He stood an instant beside her before she stirred,
+then she raised her head slowly, ashamed of her
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span>
+flushed, wet cheeks. She could not hide from the
+moon.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well?” she said, thinking of her eyes and
+cheeks.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you dreaming dreams alone, here in the
+dark?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m afraid so; I dream too many dreams; I
+want something real; I do not like the stuff that
+dreams are made of.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are real enough.” He leaned against the
+low mantel with one elbow resting upon it; she
+did not lift her eyes; she was afraid. Had he
+come to say something to her?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She did not reply, she was rubbing her fingers
+over the crimson velvet.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been thinking of something that I wish
+to say to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, I am approachable,” in a light, saucy
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Think well before you speak; it is a question
+that, middle-aged as I am, I never asked any woman
+before; I want to ask you to become my wife.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She had raised her eyes in surprise, unfeigned
+surprise.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You need not look like that,” he said irritably;
+“you look as if you had never thought of it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have not—for a long time; perhaps I did
+once—before I became old and wise. I <em>am</em> surprised,
+I can not understand it; I was so sure that
+you could never care for me.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why should I not? It is the most natural thing
+in the world.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not think so; I can not understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Accept it upon my testimony, do not try to understand
+it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He betrayed no feeling, except in his quickened
+tone; she was too bewildered to be conscious of any
+feeling at all; she listened to the sound of her own
+voice, as if another were speaking; she remembered
+afterward, that for once in her life she had heard
+the sound of her own voice. She was thinking,
+“My voice <em>is</em> pleasant, only so cold and even.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you not answer me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was thinking; she had forgotten to answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why should you like me?” she said at last.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There’s reason enough, allow me to judge; but
+you do not come to the point.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know how.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought that coming to the point was one of
+your excellences.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your question—your assertion rather—is something
+very new.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She could see the words; she was reciting them
+from a printed page.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t you know whether you like me or not?”
+he asked in the old assured, boyish way.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I do not know that; if I did I should care
+for what you are saying, and now I do not care.
+Once, in that time when I loved you and you did
+not care, I would have died with joy to hear you
+say what you have said; my heart would have
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span>
+stopped beating; I should have been too glad to
+live; but perhaps when <em>that</em> you went away and
+died, the Tessa that loved you went away and
+died, too. I think that I <em>did</em> die—of shame. Now
+I hear you speak the words that I used to pray
+then every night that you might speak to me, and
+now I do not care! When I was little I cried myself
+sick once for something I wanted, and when
+mother gave it to me I was too sick and tired to
+care. No, I do not want to marry you, Dr. Towne,
+I am too sick and tired to love you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why do you not want to marry me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because—because—” she looked up into his
+grave eyes—“I do not want to; I am not satisfied
+with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why are you not satisfied with me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you disappointed in me? Have I changed?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, no,” she said sorrowfully, “you have not
+changed—not since I have known you this time.
+It is like this, as if I were blind when I knew you
+before, and I loved you for what you were to me;
+but as I could not see you, I loved you for what I
+imagined you to be, and now, I am not blind, my
+eyes are wide, wide open, and I look at you and
+wonder ‘where is the one I knew?’ I do not
+know you; you are a stranger to me; I would love
+you if I could; I can not say <em>yes</em> and not love you.
+I have never told any one, but I may tell you now.
+While you were away at St. Louis, I promised to
+marry some one; he had loved me all my life, and
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span>
+I was so heart-broken because of the mistake that I
+had made about you; and I wanted some one to
+care for me, so that I might forget how I loved
+somebody that did not love me. And then I was
+wild when I knew what I had done! I did not
+love him; I felt as if I were bound in iron; I shall
+never forget that. I do not want to feel bound in
+iron to you. Why did you not ask me last year
+when you knew how I cared for you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+He dropped his eyes, the hot color flushing even
+to his forehead. “I could not—sincerely.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why did you act as if you liked me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I did like you. I did not love you. I did not
+understand. I can not tell you how unhappy I
+was when I found that you had misunderstood me.
+I would not have hurt you for all the universe; I
+did not dream that you could misunderstand me; I
+was attracted to you; I did not know that I manifested
+any stronger feeling. Surely you have forgiven
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I have forgiven you; I did not really
+blame you; I knew that you did not understand.
+You are a stupid fellow about women.—You are
+only a stupid, dear, big boy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you do not answer me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>have</em> answered you. Do you ask me sincerely
+now?” she asked curiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know I do,” he said angrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you ask me because Miss Gerard has refused
+you?” with a flash of merriment crossing
+her face.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never asked Miss Gerard.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you flirt with her?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose you give it that name. I was attracted
+towards her, of course, but I soon found
+that she had no depth; she would cling to me, I
+could not shake her off. I took her to Mayfield
+this morning; she asked to go, I could not refuse
+the girl. She has made several pretty things for
+me; I showed my appreciation by buying pieces
+of jewelry for her; was that flirting? I never
+kissed her, or said I loved her, or talked any nonsense
+to her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course not. You do not know how.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know how to talk sense, Miss Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you asking me because your mother loves
+me so much?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” she said, her eyes filling at his tone, “I
+can not believe it. It is as if you had put both
+hands around my throat and choked my breath
+away and then said politely, ‘Excuse me.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is my love so little to you as that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have not seen it yet; you <em>say</em> you love me,
+that is all.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is not that enough?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It can not be enough, for it does not satisfy
+me. I have believed so long that you despised
+me; one word from you can not change it all.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is there something wrong about me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wrong? Oh, no. How could there be? I do
+believe that you are a <em>good</em> man.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“You think that you can not be happy with
+me?” he asked patiently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am happy enough always, everywhere; I was
+as happy as a bird in a tree before I knew you; you
+set me to crying for something, and then held out
+your hand empty.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I love you; isn’t that full enough?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, that is not full enough. I want you to <em>be</em>
+all that I believed you to be. I shall not be satisfied
+till then. When you think of me you may
+think of me hungering and thirsting for you to be
+all that I can dream of your being—all that God is
+willing to make you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The light had died out of his eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you know some one that does satisfy you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know good people, but they do not satisfy
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Philip Towne?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I should as soon think of loving St. John.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tell me, <em>do</em> you love him?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dr. Towne, I never thought of such a thing!”
+she said with quick indignation.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are a Mystic; Dr. Lake has named you
+true. Come, be sensible and don’t talk riddles;
+don’t talk like a book; talk plain, good sense; say
+<em>yes</em>, and leave all your whims behind you forever.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Loving you was a whim; shall I leave that
+behind forever?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I could not endure your presence; it is
+that that keeps you near me now. It is not enough
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span>
+for you to love me; I should die of hunger if I did
+not love you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Love me, then.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Her head went down upon the arm of the chair;
+she covered her face with both hands; a childish
+attitude she often assumed when alone.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t, I can’t! I want to; I would if I could!
+it’s too late; I can’t go back and see you as you
+were—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have asked you to forgive me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do, I do; but I do not love you as I want to
+love you. I shall never marry any one, you may
+be sure of that; I do not want to be married. Why
+must I? Who says I must?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I say so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your authority I do not recognize. The voice
+must come from God to my own heart.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Lift your head. Look at me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She obeyed.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish you to understand that I am not to be
+trifled with; this is definite; this is final; I have
+asked and you have refused. You need not play
+with me thinking that I shall ask you again, <em>I
+never shall</em>. Remember, I never shall.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not wish you to ask me again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then this ends the matter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“This ends the matter,” she repeated.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My mother is not well, she will miss you; you
+will stay with her just the same. She will not surmise
+any thing. She loves you as I did not know
+that one woman could love another.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292'></a>292</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is that why you wish to marry me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No. I know my own mind. I have loved you
+ever since I knew you, but I was not aware of it;
+I did not know it until I knew that Miss Gerard
+was not like you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I am so sorry! This is the hardest of all.
+But I might grow not to like you at all; I might
+rush away from you; it takes so much love and
+confidence and sympathy to be willing to give
+one’s self.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not in a frame of mind to listen to such
+things; you forget that you have thrown me away
+for the sake of a whim!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I want to tell your mother; I can not bear for
+her to be so kind to me—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t enough to hurt me, but you must hurt
+her, also. She would not understand—any more
+than I do—why you throw me away.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not tell her, but I shall feel like a hypocrite.
+You will not utterly despise me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You can not expect me to feel very kindly
+towards you. Why may I not lose all but the
+memory of <em>you</em>?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You may. I am willing,” she answered wearily.
+“Oh, I <em>wanted</em> to be satisfied with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He had left the room with his last words, not
+waiting for reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she could only cry out, with a dry, hard
+sob, “Oh, Ralph, Ralph, I <em>wanted</em> to be satisfied
+with you!”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293'></a>293</span><a name='ch19' id='ch19'></a>XIX.—THE OLD STORY.</h2>
+<p>
+One afternoon in the reading-room she found two
+notices of her book; one was in <em>Hearth and Home</em>,
+the other in <em>The Lutheran Observer</em>; the former ran
+in this style:
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘Under the Wings’ by Theresa Louise Wadsworth
+is the most lifelike representation of a genuine
+live boy that we have seen for many a day.
+We are almost tempted to think that the author
+was once a boy herself she is so heartily in sympathy
+with a boy’s thoughts and feelings. It is a
+book that every boy ought to read, and we are confident
+that no boy can read it without being bettered
+by it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The other she was more pleased with:
+</p>
+<p>
+“Rob is a genuine boy, with all manner of faults
+and pranks; but a tender, truthful heart, and a determination
+for the right that brings him through
+safely. But specially is he delightful in juxtaposition
+with Nell, a little girl who says the quaintest
+things in the most laughable, most lovable manner.
+Altogether it is a thoroughly enjoyable book, sweet
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294'></a>294</span>
+and saintly, too; though not saintly after the cut
+and dried style of youthful piety.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She turned the papers with a startled face as if
+the lady in the black cloak near her had guessed
+what she had looked for and had found; as if the
+blonde mustache hidden behind Emerson surmised
+that she had written a book and wondered why
+she had not attempted something deeper; as if
+Mr. Lewis Gesner reading a newspaper with his
+forehead puckered into a frown knew that she
+was slightly a blue-stocking, and decided that
+she might better be learning how to be a good
+wife for somebody.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I <em>am</em> commonplace,” she soliloquized, running
+down the long flight of stairs; “ten years ago when
+my heroines were Rosalie and Viola, and their lovers
+bandits or princes in disguise, who would have believed
+that I could have settled down into writing
+good books for good little children?”
+</p>
+<p>
+That evening Mr. Hammerton took from his
+memorandum book three square inches of printed
+matter, neatly and exactly folded, and dropped it
+into her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There’s a feather in your cap, Lady Blue; it is
+plucked from the <em>Evening Mail</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She read it, by the light of the shaded lamp,
+standing at the sitting-room table. Mrs. Wadsworth
+looked up from her work, regarding her curiously;
+Tessa did not observe the expression of pride
+and love that flitted across her face. Mrs. Wadsworth
+loved Tessa more than she loved any other
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295'></a>295</span>
+human being; indeed, with all her capacity for loving;
+but Tessa would never discover it. Mrs. Wadsworth
+was not aware of it, herself; Mr. Wadsworth
+saw it and was glad. Tessa read eagerly:
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘Under the Wings’ is the title of an excellent
+book by Theresa Louise Wadsworth issued in neat
+form by——. The characters of the boyish hero—wilful,
+merry, irreverent, honest, and bold, and the
+heroine—happy, serious, inquiring, and lovable, are
+drawn with no mean skill, while the other personages,
+the kind and pious grandmother, the snappish,
+but well-meaning mother, the deacon, and others,
+are sketched with scarcely less truth and vividness.
+The development of the Christian faith in the soul
+of wild Rob is traced easily and naturally, the incidents
+are numerous and interesting; the whole
+movement of the story is in helpful sympathy with
+human hearts.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is it, daughter?” inquired her father arranging
+the chess-men.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is modest as well as famous. I will read
+it,” said Mr. Hammerton, “and here’s your letter
+from Dine; I knew that that would insure my welcome.
+Do you know, I forgot to inquire for myself?
+I never did such a thing before. Father will
+go to the mail, however.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Moving apart from the group, she ran through
+the long letter; coloring and biting her lips as she
+read. Mrs. Wadsworth’s little rocker was drawn to
+the table; the light from the tall lamp fell over her
+face and hair, touching her hands and her work;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296'></a>296</span>
+the low, white forehead, the wavy hair, the pretty
+lips and chin were pleasant to look upon; when
+she was in a happy state of mind, this little lady
+was altogether kissable.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What does Dine say?” she asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not much. No news,” stammered Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Hurry then and let me read it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Excuse me, it is purely confidential, every vestige
+to be consigned to the flames. You are to
+have a letter in a day or two.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton gave her a quick glance and
+moved his queen into check. She took the letter
+into the parlor for a second perusal.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Tessa, my dear, big, wise sister, I’ve got
+something to tell you. What should I do if I
+hadn’t somebody to tell? At first I thought I
+wouldn’t tell you or any body, and then I knew
+I must. Norah knows, but she will never tell.
+She does not know about Gus. I have never told
+that, but she knows about my wonderful John! I
+don’t know how to begin either; I guess I will begin
+in the middle; all the blanks your own imagination
+must fill. You know all about John; I’ve
+told you enough if your head isn’t too full of literary
+stuff to hold common affairs; <em>I’m in love</em> and
+he is, too, of course. I should not be if he were
+not. I mean I should not tell of it if he were not.
+I’m glad that you are not the kind of elder sister
+that can’t be told such things, for I could not tell
+mother, and I would not dare tell dear, old father.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297'></a>297</span>
+Not that it is so dreadful to be in love, even
+if I have known him but seven weeks to-night; I
+fell in love with him the instant he raised his eyes
+and took hold of my hand. Living under the same
+roof and eating together three times a day (he eats
+so nicely), and ciphering and studying and reading
+together, and going to church and prayer-meeting
+and singing-school together, make the time seem
+ten times as long and give twenty times as many
+opportunities of falling in love decorously as I
+could have found in Dunellen in a year! But I
+am not apologizing for <em>that</em>. It’s too delightfully
+delicious to have a <em>real</em> lover! Not that he has
+asked me <em>yet</em>! I wouldn’t have him do it for any
+thing; it would spoil it all. But we both knew it
+as Adam and Eve knew it! Now the dreadfulness
+of it is that I have no right to do such a thing. I
+came here believing that I was lawfully and forever
+engaged to dear old Gus, spectacles, chess-board,
+dictionary and all. Not that <em>he</em> ever said
+a word to <em>me</em>! Don’t you know one night I told
+you that I had a secret? How glad I was of it
+then! I couldn’t sleep that night and for days I
+felt dizzy; for Gus had been my hero ever since he
+told me stories when I was a wee child. And so
+of course I thought I <em>loved</em> him. What is love,
+anyway? Who knows? That secret was this: I
+heard dear, old, wise Gus tell father that he loved
+<em>me</em> (just think, <em>me!</em>) and that he was waiting for
+me to love him, dear, old boy! He would not try
+to make me love him, he wanted it to come naturally;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298'></a>298</span>
+he would not speak to me or urge me, he
+wanted to find me loving him and then he would
+ask me to give him what belonged to him. Wasn’t
+it touching? I didn’t know that he could be so
+lover-like. I didn’t know that he ever would love
+anybody because he always talks books and politics
+and only made fun when I told him news about the
+girls. How could I help loving him when I knew
+that he loved me. Isn’t that enough to make anybody
+love anybody?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Just as soon as I saw my wonderful John, then
+I knew that I did not love Gus, that I never had
+loved him, that I never <em>could</em> love him. No, not to
+the end of time. If I had married him, I suppose
+that I should have been satisfied and thought I
+was as happy as I could be—I don’t know, though.
+He was wise to let me wait and have a choice: it
+is cruel to ask girls before they have seen some one
+else; we do not know what we do want until we
+see it—or him. I am writing at the sitting-room
+table; John has not come home from the mail;
+Aunt Tessa knits a long, blue stocking and Uncle
+Knox is asleep with the big white and black cat on
+his knees.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never could stay here but for John and Miss
+Towne. I have told <em>her</em> about John; she likes
+John. Every one does.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I want you to see my knight; he is not tall, he
+is broad-shouldered, with the loveliest complexion
+and blonde mustache, blue eyes, shining blue eyes,
+and auburn curly hair! that is, <em>rather</em> auburn; I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299'></a>299</span>
+think it is more like reddish gold. I wish that
+you could hear him talk about making life a glorious
+success. He makes me feel brave and strong.
+Oh, isn’t it a beautiful thing to live and have some
+one love you! I wish that you loved somebody; I
+do not like to be so happy and have you standing
+out in the cold. John thinks that <em>you</em> are wonderful;
+I tell him that he will forget me when he has
+heard you talk.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wise old Gus is a thousand miles over my head
+when he talks to me, but John walks by my side
+and speaks the thoughts that I have been thinking,
+only in so much more beautiful language; and he
+likes all the books I like, and my favorite poems
+and hymns. How will you break it to Gus? He
+must be told. He wrote to me two weeks ago, a
+long, interesting letter all about Dunellen news,
+which I haven’t dared answer yet. I suppose I
+must. I showed it to John; he asked how old he
+was, and now he calls him ‘The Venerable.’ He
+must not keep on thinking about me, for I never,
+never can like him, even if I never marry John.
+Do break it to him in some easy, <em>pleasant</em> way; he
+will never imagine that <em>you</em> know that he likes <em>me</em>.
+He never showed it any, I am sure. I always
+thought that it was you, and mother thinks so; I
+heard her telling father.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Be sure to write immediately, for I am as unhappy
+as I can be. And be sure to tell me what
+he says and how he takes it. Mary Sherwood wrote
+me that Sue told her that she and Dr. Lake had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300'></a>300</span>
+awful quarrels, and that once they didn’t speak to
+each other for three days only in her father’s presence.
+I never could quarrel with John. There he
+comes. I’ll be writing when he comes in and not
+look up, and then he will come behind my chair
+and touch my curls when auntie isn’t looking.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Write soon. Your ever loving <span class='sc'>Dine</span>.
+</p>
+<p>
+“P.S.—John calls me Di: he doesn’t like <em>Dine</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Crumbling the letter in both hands, she laid it
+upon the coals; then she stood with one foot on the
+fender, leaning forward with her forehead upon the
+mantel, thinking, thinking. Before she was aware
+the door was opened and some one came behind
+her and put both arms around her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is any thing the matter with Dine?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, no,” shaking herself loose from his arms
+and creeping out of them.
+</p>
+<p>
+He pushed the ottoman nearer and seated himself
+upon the parrot and the roses; she stood on the
+edge of the rug, with her arms folded across her
+breast to keep herself quiet; how could she tell him
+the truth? He was not a boy to laugh and cry and
+fling it off; he had loved Dine as long as Felix Harrison
+had loved <em>her</em>! He would take it quietly
+enough; she had no dread of an outburst; it might
+be that Dine’s silence in regard to his letter had
+been a preparation; surely every hard thing that
+came had its preparation; the heavy blow was
+never sent before the word of warning.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is not sick?” he asked.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301'></a>301</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sick!” She lingered over the word as if help
+would come before it were ended. “Oh, no, she is
+well and happy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Does she write you secrets?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She always tells me her secrets.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Has any phenomenon occurred?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It isn’t a phenomenon; it is something as old
+as Eve and as new as Dinah. She thinks she has
+found her Adam.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ah!” in a constrained voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+She saw nothing but the fire; the long poker was
+laid across the fender, a handful of ashes had fallen
+through the grate. “Such things have to come,
+like the measles and mumps; I did hope, however,
+to keep her out of the contagion. But Mother Nature
+is wiser than any sister.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why is it to be regretted?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because—oh, because, I have learned that one’s
+eyes are always wide open afterward—they weep
+much and see clear; one can never be carelessly
+happy again; I wanted her to stay a little girl. Selfishly,
+perhaps. I thought there was time enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is settled then—so soon?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nothing is settled, but that two people are in
+love, or believe themselves to be. Am I not a cynical
+elder sister?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is this her first experience?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who can say when a first experience is! Tennyson
+and moonlight walks are aggravating at their
+age.” At their age! She felt as old as Miss Jewett
+to-night.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302'></a>302</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope he is worthy of her. She is a jewel.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She would not love him if he were not,” said
+the elder sister proudly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“This is a secret?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes; I know that I can trust you. It will be
+time enough to tell father and mother when he
+brings her home and kneels at their feet for their
+blessing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who is he?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“John Woodstock, the school-master. He has
+neither father nor mother, he is beautiful and good,
+enthusiastic and fascinating.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She had not once lifted her eyes to his face; his
+fingers had clasped and unclasped themselves; his
+voice was not as steady as usual.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That notice was a very pretty puff, Lady Blue.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I like it I will paste it into my notebook.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is that all you have seen?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I saw two in the reading-room, but I like
+this better.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you writing now?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are not on the lookout for Adam.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No. I will write and he shall search for me.
+Haven’t you heard of that bird in Africa, which if
+you hunt for him, you can not find, but if you stay
+at home, he will come to you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+He had risen and stood in his usual uneasy fashion.
+“My congratulations to Dine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will tell her.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303'></a>303</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+He lingered on the hearth-rug, then at the door
+with his hand upon the knob.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good night. I shall be busy for a week or two;
+do not expect to see me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will come when you can?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Certainly.” He went out and closed the door.
+</p>
+<p>
+She stood in the same position with her arms
+folded for the next half hour. How could Dine
+know what love was? How could she give up a
+man like Gus Hammerton for a light-haired boy
+who talked of making life a glorious success? He
+had his heartache now; it had come at last after
+all his years of watching Dine growing up: and no
+one could help him, he must fight it out alone; she
+remembered what he had said about quoting from
+a book for Dr. Lake. What “book man” could
+help him to-night? Would he open a book or fall
+upon his knees?
+</p>
+<p>
+Was <em>he</em> sorrowful to-night too, Ralph Towne?
+How gentle he had been with her and how patient!
+They had met several times since; once, in
+his mother’s presence, when he had spoken to her
+as easily as usual; at other times in the street; he
+had lifted his hat and passed on; the one glimpse
+of his eyes had been to reveal them very dark and
+very stern. She could hear Mr. Hammerton’s voice
+calling back to her father from the gate; they both
+laughed and then his quick tramp sounded on the
+planks.
+</p>
+<p>
+The tramp kept on and on for hours; the moon
+arose late; he walked out into the country, now
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304'></a>304</span>
+tramping along the wayside and now in the road;
+it was midnight when he turned his face homeward
+and something past one when he silently unlocked
+the door with his night-key and found his way to
+his room. There was a letter there from Dinah;
+his sister had laid it on his bureau. It was brief,
+formal, and ambiguous; she had subscribed herself
+“Your young, old friend, D.” She did not say that
+she was glad of his letter, she did not ask him to
+write again. “She thinks that she must not write
+to me,” he thought, “darling little Dine! I would
+like to see that John Woodstock!”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305'></a>305</span><a name='ch20' id='ch20'></a>XX.—SEVERAL THINGS.</h2>
+<p>
+The November sky was full of clouds; Tessa liked
+a cloudy sky; the dried leaves whirled around her
+and rustled beneath her feet, fastening themselves
+to her skirt as she walked through them; she had
+stepped down into the gutter to walk through the
+leaves because they reminded her of her childish
+days when she used to walk through them and soil
+her stockings and endure a reprimand when her
+mother discovered the cause of it; then she had
+liked the sound of the leaves, now she only cared
+for them, as she did for several other things,—for
+the sake of the long ago past! She imagined herself
+a ten-year-old maiden with big blue eyes and
+long, bright braids hanging down her back and
+tied together at the ends with brown ribbon; she
+was coming from school with a Greenleaf’s Arithmetic
+(she ciphered in long division and had a
+“table” to learn), “Parker’s Philosophy” and “Magnall’s
+Questions” in her satchel. The lesson to-morrow
+in that was about Tilgath-pilneser; she had
+stumbled over the queer name, so she would be
+sure to remember it. There were crumbs in the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306'></a>306</span>
+napkin in the satchel, too, she had had seed cake
+for lunch; and a lead pencil that Felix Harrison
+had sharpened for her at noon, when he had come
+down-stairs to ask Laura for his share of the lunch,
+and there was a half sheet of note paper with her
+spelling for to-morrow from “Scholar’s Companion”
+written on it; perhaps there was a poorly written
+and ill-spelled note from Gus Hammerton’s cousin,
+Mary Sherwood, and there might be a crochet
+needle and a spool of twenty cotton!
+</p>
+<p>
+She smiled over the inventory, lingering over
+each article; oh, if she only were going home from
+school with that satchel, to help her mother a little,
+play with Dine, and in the evening to look over her
+lessons sitting close to her father and then to coax
+him for a story. And then she would go to bed at
+eight o’clock to awake in the morning to another
+day. Mr. Hammerton said that it was a premature
+“<em>Vanitas vanitatem</em>” for her to declare that “growing
+up” was as bad as any thing a girl could dream!
+</p>
+<p>
+But then he did not know about poor Felix, and
+he could never guess what she had dreamed that
+she had found in Ralph Towne—and how empty
+life was because of this thing that had mocked her.
+Empty with all its fulness because of something
+that never had been; something that never could
+be in him.
+</p>
+<p>
+In those satchel-days her greatest trouble had
+been an interminable scolding from her mother, or
+the having to give to Dine her own share of cup-custard,
+when one chanced to be left from tea.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307'></a>307</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+It was a raw day; the wind played roughly with
+her veil; the fields were bleak, and the long lines
+of fence, stretching in every direction and running
+into places that she did not know and would not
+care for, gave her a feeling of homesickness. Homesickness
+with the home she had lived in all her life
+not a mile distant, with every one that she loved
+or ever had loved within three miles; every one
+but Dine, and Dine was as blithe and satisfied as
+any girl could be.
+</p>
+<p>
+Still she was homesick; she had been homesick
+since that evening by the fire in Mrs. Towne’s sitting-room.
+Homesick because she had dreamed a
+dream that could never come true; now that he had
+asked her in plain, straightforward, manly words
+to love him and become his wife, her heart had
+opened, the light shone in, and she read all that
+the three years had written; she <em>had</em> loved him,
+but the love had been crushed in shame—in shame
+for her mistake.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There she is <em>now</em>,” cried a voice in the distance
+behind her.
+</p>
+<p>
+She turned to find Dr. Lake stopping his horse;
+he sprang out, not lightly, not like himself, and assisted
+his wife to the ground.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She prefers your company, it seems,” he said,
+holding the reins with one hand and giving Tessa
+the other. “Talk fast now, for I shall not be gone
+long; I want to get home.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You can go home, I’ll come when I like,” replied
+Sue.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308'></a>308</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“We stopped at your house,” said Sue, as he
+drove on; “I asked him to leave me while he goes
+to Harrison’s; that Felix is always having a fit or
+something. Do you think Gerald looks so sick?”
+squeezing her hand under the folds of Tessa’s crimson
+and gray shawl that she might take her arm.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is much changed; I did not like to look at
+him; has he been ill?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you didn’t hear then! It was day before
+yesterday! He was thrown out; the horse ran
+away; he isn’t hurt much; he thinks he is, I do believe.
+I am not a nurse, I don’t know how to coddle
+people and fuss over them. The horse is a
+strange one that father had taken to try, and he
+threw Gerald out and ran away and smashed the
+buggy, and a farmer brought him home. He did
+look as white as a sheet and he hasn’t eaten any
+thing since; he went out yesterday and insisted
+upon coming out to-day. Father says that he’s foolhardy;
+but I guess he knows that he isn’t hurt; I
+sha’n’t borrow trouble anyway. He mopes and feels
+blue, but he says nothing ails him; he’s a doctor and
+he ought to know. Where are you going?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not anywhere in particular; I came out for the
+air; we will walk on slowly.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We might go as far as your seat on the roots.
+Wasn’t that time an age ago? I didn’t feel married-y
+one bit. I want to go over to Sherwoods to-night
+to the Sociable, but Gerald says that I am
+heartless to want to go. I don’t think I am. I
+didn’t get married to shut myself up. Gerald never
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309'></a>309</span>
+has any time to go anywhere with me, and it’s just
+as stupid and vexatious at home as it ever was.
+Don’t <em>you</em> ever get married.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you keeping your word?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What word?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The promise you made me that day by the
+brook.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“About Gerald? Oh, sometimes I keep it and
+sometimes I don’t. He always makes up first, I
+will say that for him. He will never let me go to
+sleep without kissing him good night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you did not tell Mary Sherwood that once
+you did not speak for three days?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Bless you, no; Gerald would not let that be true;
+it was no goodness in me that it wasn’t true, though;
+perhaps I told her that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you talk to her about him?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now, Granny, suppose I do!”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa stood still. “Promise me—you shall not
+take another step with me till you do—that you
+will not talk to any one against him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I won’t. Don’t gripe my hand so tight. He is
+my husband, he isn’t yours! When he’s contrary,
+I’ll be contrary, too, and I’ll tell people if I like.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you forfeit my friendship; remember I am
+not your friend.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa Wadsworth! you hateful old thing! you
+know I shall have to give in, for you are my best
+friend! There,” laughing, “let me go, and I’ll promise!
+I’ll say all the ugly things I have to say to his
+own face.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310'></a>310</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+They walked on slowly; Sue rambling on and
+Tessa listening with great interest.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I had a letter from Stacey last week; Gerald
+has it in his pocket; he dictated the answer, and I
+wrote it in my most flourishing style. I’ve got
+somebody to take good care of me now—if he
+doesn’t get sick! I don’t like sick people; I made
+him some gruel yesterday and it was as thick as
+mush. Oh, the things he promises me when he
+gets rich! Gets rich! All he wants is for me to
+love him, poor dear! What <em>is</em> love? Do you
+know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“To discover is one of the things I live for; I
+know that it suffers long.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s poetry! I don’t want to suffer long and
+have Gerald sick. I had to get up last night and
+make him a mustard plaster, and do you believe I
+was so sleepy that I made it of ginger? He never
+told me till this morning.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In half an hour he drove up swiftly behind them.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Susan, you can get in; I don’t feel like getting out
+to help you. I feel very bad, I want to get home.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He laid the reins in her hand. “You may drive;
+good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another
+day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Come and see us,” Sue shouted back.
+</p>
+<p>
+The horse trotted on at good speed; Sue’s blue
+veil floated backward; Tessa walked on thinking
+of Dr. Lake’s pain-stricken face and figure.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her first words to Mary Sherwood that evening
+were:
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311'></a>311</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“How is Dr. Lake?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sick. Worse. Very sick, I suspect. Their girl
+told our girl that Mrs. Lake was frightened almost
+to death.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I hope she is,” said Nan Gerard, “she deserves
+to be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa kept herself in a sofa corner all the evening.
+</p>
+<p>
+Nan said that she was a queen surrounded by
+courtiers, for first one and then another came for a
+quiet talk. When she was not talking or listening,
+she was watching: figures, faces, voices, motions,
+all held something in them worth her studying;
+she had been watching under cover of a book of
+engravings Professor Towne, for some time before
+he came and stood at the arm of her sofa.
+</p>
+<p>
+She was shy, at first, as she ever was with strangers,
+but no one could be shy with him for a longer
+time than five minutes. Dine’s last letter had contained
+an account of an afternoon with Miss Towne,
+with many quotations from her sayings.
+</p>
+<p>
+“My sister thinks that your sister is a saint,” said
+Tessa; “she has written me about her beautiful
+life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“All about her invalids, I suppose. <em>Shut-ins</em>
+she calls them! Invalids are her mania; she had
+thirty-five on her list at her last writing; she finds
+them north, south, east, and west.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dine loves to hear about them; Miss Towne
+gives her some of their letters to read to Aunt
+Theresa. Dine runs over every morning to hear
+about last night’s mail. I am looking forward to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312'></a>312</span>
+my good times with her if she will be as good to
+me as she is to my little sister.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is looking forward to you; your sister’s enthusiasm
+never flags when she may talk of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The talk drifted into books; Mr. Hammerton
+drew nearer, his questions and apt replies added
+zest to the conversation; Tessa mentally decided
+that he was more original than the Professor; the
+Professor’s questions were good, but no one in all
+<em>her</em> world could reply like Gus Hammerton; she
+was proud of him to-night with a feeling of ownership;
+in loving Dine, had he not become as near as
+a brother to her?
+</p>
+<p>
+This feeling of ownership was decidedly pleasant;
+with it came a safe, warm feeling that she
+was taken care of; that she had a right to be taken
+care of and to be proud of him. No one in the
+world, the most keen-eyed student of human nature,
+could ever have guessed that he was suffering
+from a heartache; he had greeted her with the
+self-possession of ten years ago, had inquired about
+the “folks at home,” and asked if Dine were up in
+the clouds still. Could Dine have made a mistake?
+Had she dreamed it?
+</p>
+<p>
+Professor Towne moved away to go to Nan Gerard;
+Tessa listened to Mr. Hammerton, he was telling
+her about a discovery in science, and half comprehending
+and not at all replying she watched
+Professor Towne’s countenance and motions. She
+could hear about this discovery some other time,
+but she might not have another opportunity to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313'></a>313</span>
+study the Professor. He was her lesson to-night.
+As he talked, she decided that he did not so much
+resemble his cousin as her first glance had revealed;
+his voice was resonant, his manner more courteous;
+he was not at all the “big boy,” he was dignified,
+frank, and yet reserved; simple, at times, as his sister
+might be, and cultured, far beyond any thing
+she had ever thought of in regard to Dr. Towne;
+he was as intellectual as Gus Hammerton, as gracious
+as Felix Harrison, with as much heart as
+Dr. Lake, a physical presence as fascinating as Dr.
+Towne, and as pure-hearted and spiritualized as
+only himself could be. She had found her ideal at
+last. She had found him and was scrutinizing him
+as coolly and as critically as if he were one of the
+engravings in the book in her lap. She would
+never find a flaw in him; when she wrote her
+novel he should be her hero.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, doctor! Have the skies fallen? Did you
+hear that we were all taken with convulsions?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Nan Gerard’s laugh followed this; the doctor’s
+reply was cool and commonplace.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is the title of your book?” Mr. Hammerton
+was asking. “‘Hepsey’s Heartache?’ ‘Jennie’s
+Jumble?’ ‘Dora’s Distress?’ ‘Fannie’s Fancy?’ or it
+may be ‘Up Top or Down Below,’ ‘Smashed Hopes
+or Broken Idols.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not answer you if you are not serious.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought that young ladies gloried in sentiment.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She turned the leaves of her book.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314'></a>314</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Lady Blue, I can not be a just critic; I can not
+take a sentimental standpoint; you take it naturally
+and truly; you are right to do so; it is your
+mission, your calling, your election. Do not think
+that I despise sentiment and the ideal world of
+feeling—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know that I do not think that,” she interrupted
+earnestly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“These questions of feeling can not be tackled
+like a problem in mathematics, and an answer given
+in cold, clear cut, adequate words; such a problem
+I like to tackle; such an answer I like to give; but
+these sentimental questions in ‘Blighted Hopes’ are
+many sided, involved, and curvilinear; they are for
+the theologian, metaphysician, and mystic. What
+can you and I say about life’s hard questions after
+Ecclesiastes and Job?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you think I am presuming?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did I not just say that sentiment is your mission?
+The story of each human life has a pathos
+of its own, and each is an enigma of which God
+only knows the solution.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She colored and dropped her eyes; he did not
+dream that she knew any thing of the “pathos” in
+his life. How kind she would be to him!
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are living your solution; perhaps you will
+help me to find mine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t imagine any one in the world knowing
+you well enough to be of any help to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Very likely; but I am not on a throne of rocks, in
+a robe of clouds, crowned with a diadem of snow!”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315'></a>315</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s a little bit warm at the foot of Mount
+Blanc,” she replied laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you shall live at the foot.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dine and I,” she answered audaciously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not Dine! She has gone away from us; she
+would rather listen to a love-ditty from the lips of
+her new acquaintance than a volume of sober sense
+from us.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I had not thought to be jealous. She is not
+taking any thing from me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Be careful; never tell her any thing again; if
+you write to her that Mary wears a black silk to-night,
+and that Nan has geranium leaves in her
+hair, she will run and tell him. She will never
+keep another secret for you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa looked grave. She never would be supreme
+in her little sister’s heart again. Perhaps
+this evening she had arrayed herself in garnet and
+gone with him to the mite society, and was laughing
+and playing games, fox and geese, or ninepins,
+in somebody’s little whitewashed parlor, forgetting
+that such a place as Dunellen was down upon the
+map.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gus, we want you,” said Mary Sherwood, approaching
+them. “The girls are having a quarrel
+about who wrote something; now, go and tease
+them to your heart’s content.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Wrote what?” asked Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I don’t know. Why are you so still? You
+are sitting here as stately and grand and pale and
+intellectual—one must be pale to look intellectual,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316'></a>316</span>
+I suppose—as if you had written <em>Middlemarch</em>. I
+thought that you never went home without a separate
+talk with every person in the room, and there
+you sit like a turtle in a shell. What change has
+passed over the spirit of your dream?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I feel quiet; I feel as if I were afraid that some
+one would push against me if I should attempt to
+cross the room.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mary was called away and she drew herself into
+her sofa corner; the two long rooms were crowded;
+bright colors were flashing before her eyes, the
+buzz and hum of merry talk filled her ears; a
+black silk in contrast with a gray or blue cashmere;
+a white necktie, a head with drooping curls,
+a low, fair forehead, a pair of square shoulders in
+broadcloth, an open mouth with fine teeth, sloping
+shoulders of gray silk, a slender waist of brown, a
+coat-sleeve with cuff and onyx cuff-button, a small
+hand with a diamond on the first finger, and dark
+marks of needle-pricks on the tip of the same finger,
+a pearl ear-ring in a red, homely ear;—Tessa’s
+eyes saw them all, as well as the rounded chin, the
+fretful lip, the humorous lines at the corner of the
+eye, the manner that was frank and the manner
+that was intended to be, the lips that were speaking
+truth and the lips that were dissembling, the
+eyes that were contented and the eyes that were
+missing something—a word, perhaps, or a little attention,
+the eyes that brightened when some one
+approached, the eyes that dropped because some
+one was talking nonsense to some one else;—it was
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317'></a>317</span>
+a rest to dwell upon these things and forget that
+Dr. Lake was suffering and Sue frightened.
+</p>
+<p>
+The gentlemen’s faces she did not scan; it was
+fair, matured women like Mrs. Towne and Miss
+Jewett, and sprightly, sweet girls like Nan Gerard
+that she loved.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Towne was hedged in a corner, behind a
+chair, conversing or seeming to converse with a
+gentleman; he was not a lady’s man, he could not
+be himself in the presence of a third or fourth
+person, that is himself, socially; he could be himself
+professionally under the gaze of the multitude.
+Tessa smiled, thinking how uncomfortable he must
+be and how he must wish himself at home. Was
+he longing for his leisure at Old Place, where, as a
+society man, nothing was expected of him? Did
+he regret that he had come out “into the world”?
+Was the old life in his “den” with his book a
+dream that he would fain dream again? Perhaps
+that book that had loomed up before her as containing
+the wisdom of the ages was not such a
+grand affair after all? Who had ever thought so
+beside herself? Who had ever worshipped him as
+hero and saint beside herself? He was not looking
+like either, just now, for his face was flushed with
+the heat of the room and he was standing in a
+cramped position.
+</p>
+<p>
+“The bear is in his corner growling,” said Nan
+Gerard bending over her. “How ungracious he
+can be when he wills. Sometimes he is positively
+rude to me.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318'></a>318</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is there but one bear?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know well enough whom I mean. I expect
+that Mrs. Lake is mad enough because she
+couldn’t come! How prettily she makes up; I
+have seen her when she really looked elegant.
+Homely girls have a way of looking prettier than
+the pretty ones. How grave you are! You don’t
+like my nonsense, do you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was thinking of poor Sue.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh yes; sad, isn’t it? She’ll be married in less
+than two years, if he dies, see if she isn’t. I can’t
+understand what her attraction is! She has a thousand
+little airs, perhaps that is it. I am to sleep
+with you to-night. May I?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you,” said Tessa warmly, “I am very
+glad.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There, the bear is looking at us. He’ll be over
+here; now I’ll go over to the piano and see if I can
+make him follow me; I’ve had great fun doing that
+before now—<em>you</em> don’t do such things;” Nan shook
+her curls back with a pretty movement, threw a
+grave, alluring glance across the heads, and through
+the lights at the bear, then moved demurely away.
+</p>
+<p>
+The color touched his eyes; he looked amused
+and provoked; Tessa saw it while her eyes were
+busy with the lady in the chair near him; would
+he follow her? Mr. Hammerton returned.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘Why,&nbsp;&nbsp;William,&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;that&nbsp;&nbsp;old&nbsp;&nbsp;gray&nbsp;&nbsp;stone,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Thus&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;length&nbsp;&nbsp;of&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;half&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;day,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Why,&nbsp;&nbsp;William,&nbsp;&nbsp;sit&nbsp;&nbsp;you&nbsp;&nbsp;thus&nbsp;&nbsp;alone,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;dream&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;time&nbsp;&nbsp;away?’<br />
+</p>
+<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319'></a>319</span></div>
+<p>
+Only six ladies have found their way to you in the
+last half hour; with what sorcery do you draw them
+towards you? Tessa,” speaking in a grave tone,
+“it’s a beautiful thing for a woman to be attractive
+to women!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is a very happy thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you go to supper with me or do you prefer
+to sit on the old gray stone? You once liked
+to go with me to get rid of poor Harrison; is there
+any one that you wish to rid yourself of now? In
+these extremities I am at your service.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you taking me to rid yourself of a pertinacious
+maiden?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, the girls do not trouble me; I wish they
+would; if Naughty Nan would only run after me,
+now—there! there goes Towne; <em>he’s</em> after her, I
+know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa enjoyed the roguish, demure eyes with
+which she made room for him at her side, and
+flashed back a congratulation in return for the
+little nod of triumph which Nan telegraphed to
+her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are in league, you two; I can see that with
+my short-sighted eyes; say, you and he were prime
+friends once, weren’t you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We are now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Humph! as they say in books! Why don’t <em>you</em>
+bring him with your eyes, then?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What for?” she asked innocently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, because he has money; he is a moral and
+respectable young man, also.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320'></a>320</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are something of a phrenologist; tell me
+what he is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not. You will be thinking about him
+instead of about me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will be thinking of your deep knowledge
+of human nature, of your unrivalled penetration.
+Don’t you know that a woman likes to hear one
+man talk about another?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you would not take my opinion, nevertheless.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“True; I prefer my own unless yours confirm
+mine. Tell me, please, what is he!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have never given him five minutes’ thought.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You know his face; look away from him and
+think.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He isn’t a genius; but he has brains,” replied
+Mr. Hammerton slowly; “he is very quiet, as quiet
+as any man you know; he is very gentle, his manner
+is perfection in a sick room—and nowhere else,
+I fancy—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s too bad.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Remember that I do not know him; I am speaking
+as a phrenologist; I have never been introduced
+to him. He does not understand human nature, he
+could live a year under the roof with you or
+me, particularly you, and not feel acquainted with
+you; he is shy of women, he never knows whether
+they are talking sense or nonsense; he is not a
+lady’s man in the least, you may drop your handkerchief
+and stoop for it, he would never know it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Neither would you.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321'></a>321</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“He can keep a secret, that he can do to perfection.
+Tell him that you are in love with him
+and he will never, never tell! He is no musician.
+Naughty Nan may break her wrists and the keys
+of the piano, they will not unlock his ears or his
+heart; he is not fluent in conversation, he states a
+fact briefly, he answers a question exactly, he has
+no more to say; but he is a good listener, he does
+not forget; he is sympathetic, but he does not show
+it particularly, very few would think that he has
+any heart at all; I will wager that not two people
+in the world know him, understand, or can easily
+approach him; his temper is even, but when he <em>is</em>
+angry ‘beware the fury of a patient man!’ He
+likes to see things orderly; he seldom raises his
+voice; he is exceedingly deliberate, and while he
+<em>is</em> deliberating he would do or leave undone many
+things that he would afterward regret. He will
+rush into matrimony, or he will be in love for
+years before he knows it; his temperament is bilious.
+Now, Lady Blue, have I described a hero fit
+for a modern romance?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, only a commonplace man. All you have
+said is literally true.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is a <em>good</em> man,” said Mr. Hammerton, emphatically.
+“I mean, good as men go, in these days.
+Naughty Nan is to be congratulated. Do you not
+think so?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps,” said Tessa doubtfully.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I believe that he is planning an attack on the
+citadel under my charge; I will move off, and give
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322'></a>322</span>
+him an opportunity; I want to talk to the Professor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+How many years ago was it since Felix had attended
+one of Mary Sherwood’s little parties? Not
+more than three or four; she remembered how he
+used to hear her voice in its lightest speaking, how
+soon he became aware whenever she changed her
+position; how many times she had raised her eyes
+to meet his with their fixed, intense gaze; how his
+eyes would glitter and what a set look would stiffen
+his lips. And oh, how she had teased him in
+those days by refusing his eagerly proffered attentions
+and accepting Gus Hammerton in the matter-of-fact
+fashion in which he had suggested himself
+as ever at her service! In all the years she could
+remember these two, Gus, helpful and friendly, not
+in the least lover-like (she could as easily imagine
+the bell on the old Academy a lover), and Felix,
+poor Felix,—he would always be “poor Felix” now,—with
+his burning jealousy and intrusive affection.
+</p>
+<p>
+Was he asleep now, or awake and in pain? Was
+he lying alone thinking of what he might have
+been but for his own undisciplined eagerness, not
+daring to look into the future nights and days,
+that would be like these, only more helpless, more
+terrible?
+</p>
+<p>
+The talk and laughter ran on, her cheeks were
+hot, her head weary; she longed for a cool pillow
+and a dark chamber; some one was speaking, she
+lifted her eyes to reply.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Tessa, my mother misses you every hour.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323'></a>323</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am very sorry. There is room on my sofa, will
+you sit down?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No. I was too hasty in our last conversation,”
+bending so low that his breath touched her hair,
+“I come to ask you to reconsider; will you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you want such an answer as that would
+be?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is what I do want; then you will be sure,
+so sure that you will never change—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not changeable.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think you are; in six months I will come to
+you again, when shall it be?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So long! If you care, the suspense will be very
+hard for you. I do not like to hurt you so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I prefer the six months.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well,” speaking in her ordinary tone, “do not
+come to me, wherever I may be—we may both be
+in the next world by that time—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We shall not be so much changed as to forget,
+shall we?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Or not to care? I will write you a letter on
+the first day of June; I will mail it before ten
+o’clock.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She laid her hand in his; he held it a moment,
+neither speaking.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you <em>are</em> here,” cried a voice.
+</p>
+<p>
+And she was talking the wildest nonsense in two
+minutes, with her eyes and cheeks aflame.
+</p>
+<p>
+At half past one the last guests had departed;
+Mary paused in a description of somebody’s dress
+and asked Tessa if she would like to go to bed.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324'></a>324</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have always wished to get near to you,”
+said Nan, leading the way up-stairs. “I knew
+that there was a place in your heart for me to
+creep into.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa had a way of falling in love with girls;
+that night she fell in love with Nan Gerard; sitting
+on the carpet close to the register in a white
+skirt and crimson breakfast sacque, bending forward
+with her arms clasping her knees, she told Tessa the
+story of her life.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was seated on the bed, still in the black
+silk she had worn, with a white shawl of Shetland
+wool thrown around her; she had taken the hair-pins
+out of the hair and the long braid was brought
+forward and laid across her bosom reaching far below
+her waist.
+</p>
+<p>
+She braided and unbraided the ends of it as Nan
+talked about last winter and Dr. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I like to talk to you; I can trust you, I wouldn’t
+be afraid to tell you any thing; I can not trust Mary,
+she exaggerates fearfully. I don’t mind telling <em>you</em>
+that I came near falling in love with that handsome
+black bear; it was only skin deep however;
+I think that I have lost my attraction for him,
+whatever it was; I never do take falling in love
+hard; why, some girls take it as a matter of life
+and death; I think the reason must be that I can
+never love any one as I loved Robert. He was a
+saint. Yes, he was; you needn’t look incredulous!
+I am not sentimental, I am practical and I intend
+to marry some day. People call me a flirt, perhaps
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325'></a>325</span>
+I am, but my fun is very innocent and most
+delightful.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know this: Ralph Towne would not like me if
+I were the only girl in existence; he wants some
+one who can think as well as talk; you wouldn’t
+guess it to hear <em>him</em> talk, would you?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you ever see a man who could not talk some
+kind of nonsense? There’s Gus Hammerton, can’t
+he talk splendid nonsense? Some of his nonsense
+is too deep for me.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now, I’ve been trying an experiment with Dr.
+Towne, he is such an old bear that I thought it
+would do no harm; I made up my mind to see if
+it were possible for a marriageable woman to treat
+a marriageable man as if he were another woman!
+I don’t know about it though,” she added ruefully.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Has it failed?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think it has—rather. He does not understand—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No man would understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would understand if he would treat me as if
+I were Nathan instead of Nan; what grand, good
+friends we could be!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am glad that you can see that it has failed.
+How do you detect the failure?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have eyes. I know. His mother does not
+understand either. I think that I shall begin to
+be more—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Maidenly?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Nan colored. “Was I unmaidenly? I have resolved
+never to ask him to take me anywhere again;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326'></a>326</span>
+I have made him no end of pretty things, I will do
+it no more. I would not like to have him lose his
+respect for me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It usually costs something to try an experiment;
+I am glad that yours has cost you no more.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So am I, heartily glad. My next shall be of a
+different nature. Did you never try an experiment?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not of that kind; I tried an experiment once of
+believing every thing that somebody said, and acting
+upon it, as if it meant what it would have
+meant to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you came to grief?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought so, at first. Life <em>is</em> a long story, isn’t
+it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s an interesting one to me. I kept a journal
+about <em>my</em> experiment; I’ll read it to you, shall I?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would like it ever so much if you like <em>me</em> well
+enough to do it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course I do,” springing up. “And after I
+read it to you, you shall write the ‘final’ for
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In the top drawer of the bureau, she fumbled
+among neckties, pocket-handkerchiefs, and a collection
+of odds and ends, and at last, brought out a
+small, soft-covered, thin book with edges of gilt.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I named it ‘Nan’s Experiment,’” she said seriously,
+reseating herself near the register. “If you
+wish to listen in comfort, draw that rocker close to
+me, and take off your boots and heat your feet.
+If you are in a comfortable position, you will be
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327'></a>327</span>
+in a more merciful frame of mind to judge my
+misdoings.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa obeyed, and leaned back in the cushioned
+chair, braiding and unbraiding her hair as she
+listened.
+</p>
+<p>
+The journal opened with an account of the journey
+by train to St. Louis. The description of her
+escort was enthusiastic and girlish in the extreme.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is it nonsense?” the reader asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Even if it were, I haven’t travelled so far away
+from those days that I can not understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She read with more confidence.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ralph Towne would have been pleased with the
+intentness of Tessa’s eyes and the softening of her
+lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You <em>dear</em> Naughty Nan,” cried Tessa, as the
+book fell from the reader’s hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you do not blame me so much?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is only a mistake. Who does not make a
+mistake? It sounds rather more than skin-deep,
+though.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I had to throw in a little agony to make it
+interesting. I don’t want him to think—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What he thinks is the price you pay for your
+experiment.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now write a last sentence, and I’ll keep it forever;
+the names are all fictitious; no one can understand
+it; I’ll find a pencil.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa held the pencil a moment. Nan on her
+knees watched her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328'></a>328</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Something that I shall remember all my life—whenever
+I do a foolish thing—if I ever <em>do</em> again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you know Jean Ingelow?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is the one Professor Towne reads from?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes. I will write some words of hers.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The pencil wrote, and Nan, on her knees, read it
+word by word.
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I&nbsp;&nbsp;wait&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;day&nbsp;&nbsp;when&nbsp;&nbsp;dear&nbsp;&nbsp;hearts&nbsp;&nbsp;shall&nbsp;&nbsp;discover,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;While&nbsp;&nbsp;dear&nbsp;&nbsp;hands&nbsp;&nbsp;are&nbsp;&nbsp;laid&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;my&nbsp;&nbsp;head;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;‘The&nbsp;&nbsp;child&nbsp;&nbsp;is&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;woman,&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;book&nbsp;&nbsp;may&nbsp;&nbsp;close&nbsp;&nbsp;over,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;For&nbsp;&nbsp;all&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;lessons&nbsp;&nbsp;are&nbsp;&nbsp;said.’<br />
+&#160;<br/>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“I&nbsp;&nbsp;wait&nbsp;&nbsp;for&nbsp;&nbsp;my&nbsp;&nbsp;story—the&nbsp;&nbsp;birds&nbsp;&nbsp;can&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;sing&nbsp;&nbsp;it,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Not&nbsp;&nbsp;one&nbsp;&nbsp;as&nbsp;&nbsp;he&nbsp;&nbsp;sits&nbsp;&nbsp;on&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;tree;<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The&nbsp;&nbsp;bells&nbsp;&nbsp;can&nbsp;&nbsp;not&nbsp;&nbsp;ring&nbsp;&nbsp;it,&nbsp;&nbsp;but&nbsp;&nbsp;long&nbsp;&nbsp;years,&nbsp;&nbsp;O&nbsp;&nbsp;bring&nbsp;&nbsp;it!<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Such&nbsp;&nbsp;as&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;wish&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;be.”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you, very much. You write a fine hand.
+‘Such as I wish it to be?’ No one’s story is ever
+that—do you think it ever is?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We will do our best to make ours such as we
+wish it to be.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Professor Towne is to have a private class in
+elocution after the holidays, and I’m going to join.
+He says that I will make a reader. I wish that you
+would join too.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish I might, but I shall not be at home; I
+am to spend a part of the winter away.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, are you? Just as I have found you. But
+you promise to write to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I will write to you; I beg of you not to
+try any experiments with me,” she added laughing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t be afraid,” said Nan, seriously.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329'></a>329</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish you would make a friend of Miss Jewett;
+you will be glad of it as long as you live.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am doing it; but I don’t want <em>you</em> to go away.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall come back some day, childie.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Nan moved nearer, still on her knees, drew Tessa’s
+cheek down to her lips,—her warm, saucy, loving
+lips,—saying, “My counsellor.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Greyson’s house stood opposite. Tessa went
+to the window to see if the light were still burning
+in Sue’s chamber; Sue had forgotten to drop the curtains;
+the room was well-lighted; Sue was standing
+in the centre of the room holding something in her
+hand; Tessa saw Dr. Greyson enter and Sue moved
+away.
+</p>
+<p>
+She lay in bed wide awake watching the light.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk
+another day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The tears dropped slowly on the pillow.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330'></a>330</span><a name='ch21' id='ch21'></a>XXI.—THROUGH.</h2>
+<p>
+The snow-flakes were very large, they fell leisurely,
+melting almost as soon as they touched Tessa’s
+flower bed; she was sitting at one of the sitting-room
+windows writing. She wrote, as it is
+said that all ladies do, upon her lap, her desk being
+a large blank book; her inkstand stood upon
+the window-sill; the cane-seated chair in front of
+her served several purposes, one of them being a
+foot-rest; upon the chair were piled “Roget’s Thesaurus
+of English Words and Phrases,” “Recreations
+of a Country Parson,” a Bible, the current
+numbers of the <em>Living Age</em> and <em>Harper’s Magazine</em>,
+and George Macdonald’s latest book.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her wrapper was in two shades of brown, the
+ruffle at her throat was fastened by a knot of blue
+velvet; in one brown pocket were a lead pencil, a
+letter from an editor, who had recently published
+a work upon which he had been busy twenty years
+and had thereby become so famous that the letter
+in her pocket was an event in her life, especially
+as it began: “My dear Miss Tessa, I like your letter
+and I like you.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331'></a>331</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Her father was very proud of that letter.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the other brown pocket were a tangle of pink
+cord, a half yard of tatting, and a shuttle, and—what
+Tessa had read and reread—three full sheets
+of mercantile note from Miss Sarepta Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah was seated at another window embroidering
+moss roses upon black velvet; the black velvet
+looked as if it might mean a slipper for a good-sized
+foot. There was a secret in the eyes that
+were intent upon the roses; the secret that was
+hidden in many pairs of eyes—brown, blue, hazel—in
+Dunellen in these days before Christmas.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was not even the hint of a secret in the
+eyes that were opening “Thesaurus” and looking
+for a synonym for <em>Information</em>.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Poor Tessa!” almost sighed happy Dinah, “she
+has to plod through manuscript and books, and
+doesn’t know half how nice it is to make slippers.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Poor Tessa closed her book just then and looked
+out into the falling snow.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps we shall hear that he’s dead to-day,”
+said Dinah, brushing a white thread off the velvet.
+“I have expected to hear that every day for a
+week.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you said that he talked real bright last
+week.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So Sue said. I have not seen him. He knows
+that I have called, that is enough; I do not want
+to see him, I know that my face would distress
+him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Poor fellow,” said Dine, compassionately, “how
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332'></a>332</span>
+he used to talk! The stories that he has told in
+this room. Oh, Tessa, I can’t be thankful enough
+for every thing! To think that John should get
+such a good position in the Dunellen school! How
+things work around; he would not have had it but
+for Mr. Lewis Gesner! John and I are going there
+to spend the evening next week; Miss Gesner asked
+him to bring me. And oh, Tessa, <em>do</em> you think that
+Gus takes it much to heart?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If I did not know I should not think that he
+had any thing to take to heart!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose his heart bleeds in secret,” said Dinah
+pensively. “Well, it isn’t <em>my</em> fault. You don’t
+blame me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I never blame any one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Father and mother are very polite to John.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They are never rude to any one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Say, Tessa, are you glad about me, or sorry?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I not always glad about you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, about John?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I like John; he is a good boy; but you can not
+expect me not to be disappointed about Gus!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You think that Gus is every thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that he is <em>enough</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps—perhaps—” but Dinah became confused
+and dared not finish.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa felt her thought. Perhaps—but what a
+queer perhaps; who could imagine it?
+</p>
+<p>
+The sharp Faber scribbled upon waste paper for
+some minutes; it scribbled dates and initials and
+names, and then “Such as I wish it to be.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333'></a>333</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“There goes Dr. Towne,” said Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa lifted her head in time for a bow. Then
+she scribbled, “A nightingale made a mistake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The letter in her pocket had closed thus: “You
+have the faculty of impressing truth in a very
+pleasant manner; your characters are spirited, your
+incidents savor of freshness, your style is rather
+abrupt however, it will be well to consider that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+A busy life, busy in the things that she loved
+best, was her ideal of happiness.
+</p>
+<p>
+She scribbled—“Dec. 15. Dinah making roses.
+Miss Towne wishing for me. Is any one else?
+What do I wish? My naughty heart, be reasonable,
+be just, be sure, do not take a thing that you
+<em>want</em>, just because you want it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah was wondering how Tessa’s face <em>could</em> look
+so peaceful when she was not engaged nor likely to
+be. Tessa was at peace, she was at rest concerning
+Dr. Lake. Before the storm was over, he would be
+glad that he had been born into a life upon the
+earth. In this hour—while Dine was working her
+roses and Tessa scribbling, while the snow-flakes
+were melting on Dr. Towne’s overcoat and Nan
+Gerard was studying “The Songs of Seven” to
+read to the Professor that evening—Sue and her
+husband were alone in Sue’s chamber.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue, I haven’t heard you sing to-day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How can I sing, Gerald, when you are so sick?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I so sick? Do you know that I am?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think I ought to know; don’t I see how father
+looks? and didn’t Dr. Towne say that he would
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334'></a>334</span>
+come and stay with you to-night? Are not people
+very sick when they have a consultation?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sometimes. What are you doing over there?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is time for your powder; you must sleep,
+they all say so. Will you try to go to sleep after
+you take this?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, if you will sing to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He raised himself on his elbow and took the
+spoon from her hand. “You have been a good
+wife to me, Susan.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course I have. Isn’t that what I promised.
+There, you spilled some; how weak your fingers
+are! you are like a baby. I don’t like babies.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t say that,” falling back upon the pillow.
+“I want you to be womanly, dear, and true women
+love babies.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They are such a bother.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So are husbands.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“When you get well, you will not be a bother!
+Can’t you talk any louder?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sit down close to me. How long have I been
+sick?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I don’t know! The nights and days are
+just alike.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I expect that you are worn out. We will go to
+sleep together. I wish we could.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You mustn’t talk, you must go to sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Say, Susan,” catching her hand in both his,
+“are you glad you married me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Of course I am glad; that is, I shall be when
+you get well.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335'></a>335</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“You wouldn’t like a feeble husband dragging
+on you all your days, would you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I <em>wouldn’t</em>. Who would? Would you like
+a feeble wife dragging on <em>you</em> all your days?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would like <em>you</em>, sick or well.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I knew you would say that. You and Tessa
+and Dr. Towne are sentimental. What do you
+think he said to me last night. ‘Be very gentle
+and careful with him, do not even speak loud.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is very kind.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“As if I <em>wouldn’t</em> be gentle!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Bring your chair close and sing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t feel like singing; this room is dark and
+hot, and I am sleepy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, never mind.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She pushed a chair close to the low bed and sat
+down; he took her hand and held it between his
+flushed hot hands. “God bless you forever, and
+ever, my darling wife!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s too solemn,” said Sue in an awed voice;
+“don’t say such things; I shall believe that you
+are going to die, if you do. Do go to sleep, that’s
+a good boy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He laid his finger on his wrist keeping it there a
+full minute.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you stronger?” she asked eagerly. “Father
+will not say when I ask him and Dr. Towne
+only looked at me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He lifted her hand to his lips and smiled.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now sing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What shall I sing?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336'></a>336</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Any thing. Every thing. ‘Jesus, lover of my
+soul.’ I always liked that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The clear, strong voice trembled nervously over
+the first words; she was afraid, but she did not
+know what she was afraid of; his eyelids drooped,
+he kept tight hold of her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+She sang the hymn through and then asked what
+he would like next.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was almost dreaming. Sue is a pretty name,
+so is Gerald; but I would not like my boy to be
+named Gerald. Theodore means the <em>gift of God</em>; I
+like that; Theodore or Theodora. If you ever name
+a child, will you remember that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall never name a child; I don’t like children
+well enough to fuss over them. Now, what else?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘Jerusalem the golden.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, you don’t want that! It’s too solemn. I
+won’t sing it, I’ll sing something livelier. Don’t
+you like ‘Who are these in bright array?’”
+</p>
+<p>
+The eyelids drooped, he did not loosen his clasp,
+and she sang on; once, when she paused, he whispered,
+“Go on.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The snow fell softly, melting on the window-sill,
+the wood fire burnt low, she drew her hand away
+and went to the stove to put in a stick of wood;
+he did not stir, his hands were still half-clasped;
+through the half-shut lids, his eyes shone dim and
+dark. She was very weary; she laid her head
+on the white counterpane near his hands and fell
+asleep. Dr. Greyson entered, stood a moment near
+the door and went out; Dr. Towne came to the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337'></a>337</span>
+threshold, his eyes filled as he stood, he closed the
+door and went down-stairs; he opened the front
+parlor door, thinking of the two as they stood
+there together such a little time since, and thinking
+of Tessa’s face as he saw it that morning.
+“She will love him always if he leaves her now,”
+he said to himself; “when she is old, she will look
+back and grieve for him. Tessa would, but Sue—there’s
+no reckoning upon her. Why are not all
+women like Tessa and my mother?”
+</p>
+<p>
+He drove homeward, thinking many thoughts;
+of late, in the light of Tessa’s words, he could behold
+himself as she beheld him; she would have
+been satisfied, could she have known the depth of
+his self-accusation; “No man but a fool could <em>be</em>
+such a fool,” he had said to himself more than
+once. “There is no chance that she will take me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Meanwhile Sue awoke from her heavy sleep; it
+was growing colder, the snow was falling and not
+melting, the room was quite dark.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been asleep,” said Dr. Lake.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And now you are better,” cried Sue, joyfully.
+“I knew that you were moping and had the blues.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Through that night and the next day, Miss Jewett
+watched with Sue; before another morning
+broke, Sue—poor widowed Sue!—was taken in
+hysterics from the room.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338'></a>338</span><a name='ch22' id='ch22'></a>XXII.—SEVERAL OTHER THINGS.</h2>
+<p>
+Tessa dropped the curtains, arranged the heavy
+crimson folds, and lighted the gas.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall do this many times in my imagination
+before spring,” she said. “The curtains in my
+room, Dine says, are Turkey red, and my gas will
+be one tall sperm candle. Just about twilight you
+will feel my ghost stealing in, the curtains will fall,
+and invisible hands play among them, the jets will
+start into light, and then the perfume of a kiss
+will touch your forehead and hair. The perfume
+shall be that of a pansy or a day-lily, as you prefer.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would rather have your material lips; I am
+not fond of ghostly visitants; I shall feel you always
+beside me; I shall not forget you even in
+my sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are too kind to me,” said Tessa, after a
+moment, during which she had donned her brown
+felt hat and buttoned her long brown cloth cloak.
+The feeble old lady in the arm-chair flushed like a
+girl under the gratitude of Tessa’s eyes; her eyes
+filled slowly as Tessa came to her and kissed her.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339'></a>339</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am very old womanish about you; it must be
+because I am not strong; I would never let you go
+away out of my presence if I could hinder it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I want to stay with you; I am never happier
+than I am in this room; but I must go; it is a
+promise; and I must go to-morrow. Uncle Knox
+will meet me at the train with a creaky old buggy
+and a half-blind white horse; then we shall drive
+six miles through a flat country with farm-houses
+scattered here and there to a cunning little village
+containing one church and one store and about
+forty dwellings. Our destination is a small house
+near the end of the principal street where live the
+most devoted old couple in the world! Aunt Theresa
+and Uncle Knox are a pair of lovers; it is
+beautiful to see them together; it is worth travelling
+across the continent; they never forget each
+other for an instant, and yet they make no parade
+of their affection; I am sure that they will both
+die upon the same day of the same disease. Their
+life is as lovely as a poem. I have often wondered
+how they attained it, if it were perfect before
+they were married or if it <em>grew</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was standing under the chandelier buttoning
+her gloves, with her earnest face towards the
+lady in the arm-chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It <em>grew</em>,” said a voice behind her. Dr. Towne
+had entered unperceived by either. “Is that all?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t that enough?” she asked slightly flushing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I think that it is enough; but I know that
+it was born and not made. It did not become perfect
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340'></a>340</span>
+in a year and a day. See if your aunt hasn’t
+had an experience that she will not tell you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And my uncle?” she asked saucily.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Men do not parade their experiences.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Providing they have any to parade,” she replied
+lightly. “I’m afraid that I don’t believe in men’s
+experiences.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t say that, my dear,” said Mrs. Towne anxiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will not,” Tessa answered, suddenly sobered,
+“not until I forget Dr. Lake.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I to have the mournful pleasure of taking
+you home, Miss Tessa? My carriage is at the door.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have tried to persuade her to stay all the
+evening,” said Mrs. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have an engagement. My encyclopedia is
+coming to-night to talk over to me something that
+I have been writing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is he your critic?” inquired Dr. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, and an excellent one, too. Don’t you
+know that he knows every thing?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then perhaps he can tell me something that I
+want to know. Would it be safe to ask him?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If it is to be found in a book he can tell you,”
+said Tessa seriously.
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is not to be found in any poem that was ever
+written or in any song that was ever sung.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then it remains to be written?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes; don’t you want to write it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I must learn it by heart first; I can not write
+what I have not learned.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341'></a>341</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ralph, you shall not tease her,” interrupted his
+mother, “she shall not do any thing that she does
+not please.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not even go into the country for three months
+in winter,” he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What will Sue do without you, Tessa?” asked
+Mrs. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have been with her five days; she cried and
+clung to me. I do not want to leave her, there are
+so many reasons for me to stay and so few for me
+to go. Miss Gesner came this afternoon and promised
+to stay all night with her. She is a little
+afraid of Miss Gesner; with Miss Jewett and me,
+she cried and talked about him continually; the
+poor girl is overwhelmed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She will be overwhelmed again by and by,”
+said Dr. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ralph! I never heard you say any thing so
+harsh of any one before.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is truth harsh?” he asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If it be mild to-morrow, I will go to Sue; I will
+take her down to Old Place for a month; she always
+throve there.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She will be dancing and singing in a month,”
+returned Dr. Towne.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, let her!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you must not be troubled, mother. I shall
+make her promise not to talk to you and go into
+hysterics.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My son, she is a widow.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“‘And desolate,’” he quoted.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342'></a>342</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, will you write to me every week, child?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Every week,” promised Tessa, as she was drawn
+into the motherly arms and kissed again and again.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her own mother would not kiss her like that.
+Was it her mother’s fault or her own?
+</p>
+<p>
+As soon as they were seated in the carriage
+and the robe tucked in around her, her companion
+asked, “Shall we drive around the square? The
+sun is hardly set and the air is as warm as autumn.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” she answered almost under her breath.
+In a moment she spoke hurriedly, “Does your
+mother think—does she know—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She is a woman,” he answered abruptly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish—oh, I wish—” she hesitated, then added—“that
+she would not love me so much.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It <em>is</em> queer,” he said gravely.
+</p>
+<p>
+They drove in silence through the town and
+turned into the “mountain road”; after half a
+mile, they were in the country with their faces
+towards the glimmer of light that the sunset had
+left.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Tessa, my mother believes in me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You do not weigh my words sufficiently. They
+do not mean enough to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is that so very strange?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, it is strange when I tell you that I know
+I was a fool! When I tell you that I have repented
+in dust and ashes. I did not understand
+you, nor myself, a year ago—I am dull about understanding
+people. I think that I am not quick
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343'></a>343</span>
+about any thing; I can not make a quick reply; I
+have labored at my studies; I was not brilliant in
+school or college; I am very slow, but I am very
+<em>sure</em>. If you had been as slow as I, our friendship
+would never have had its break; you were too
+quick for me; but you understood me long before
+I understood myself; I did not understand myself
+until I was withdrawn from you. Do you believe
+that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I believe it. But you should have waited
+until you <em>did</em> understand.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is rather tough work for a man to confess
+himself a fool.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa said nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not ask to be excused, I ask to be forgiven;
+to be borne with. Will you be patient with
+me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know how to be patient. I am too
+quick. I have been very bitter and unjust towards
+you; I judged you as if you were as quick as I am;
+I have even wished you dead; it does not do for us
+to be in a class together.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not in the short run; we haven’t tried the long
+run yet, and you are afraid to do that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose I am. I am afraid of something; I
+think that I am afraid of myself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you are not afraid of me, I do not care what
+you are afraid of.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not afraid of you—now.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then if you do—reject me, it is because you are
+not satisfied with your heart toward me?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344'></a>344</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, that will be the reason,” she said slowly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And none other?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There is no reason in yourself; now that you
+have seen how you were wrong; the reason will all
+be in myself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you coming any nearer to an understanding
+with yourself?” he asked quietly.
+</p>
+<p>
+He had spoken in this same tone to a patient, a
+little child, not two hours since.
+</p>
+<p>
+The tone touched her more deeply than the words.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know. I am trying not to reason. I
+have worn myself out with reasoning. You are
+very still, but I know that this time is terrible to
+you; as terrible as last year was to me! Believe
+me, I am not lightly keeping you in suspense.
+Truly I can not decide. There is some hindrance;
+I do not know what it is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not wish to hurry you; you shall have a
+year to decide if you prefer. It is very sudden to
+you; you need time and quiet to recover from the
+shock; you are very much shaken. You are not as
+strong as you were two years ago. The strain has
+been too great for you; when you have decided once
+for all time and all eternity, your eyes will look as
+they looked two years ago. All I ask you is be <em>sure</em>
+of <em>yourself</em>! I promise not to trouble you for a year;
+I am sorry to be troubling you now. Are you very
+unhappy?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She was trembling and almost crying.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You shall not answer me, or think of answering
+me until you are ready; I deserve to suffer; I
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345'></a>345</span>
+do not fear the issue of your self-analysis; when you
+have recovered from the shock and can <em>feel</em> that you
+have forgiven me, then you will know whether you
+love me, whether you trust me. Will you write
+to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, sir.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He laughed in spite of his vexation; she resented
+the laugh; he was altogether too sure of his power.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You must not be so sure,” she began.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall be just as sure as—<em>you</em> please.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You think that I am very perplexing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are full of freaks and whims; you are a
+Mystic. Dr. Lake truly named you. I used to
+think you a bundle of impulses, and now I find you
+sternly adhering to a principle. If your whim be
+founded on principle, and I verily believe it is, I
+honor you even when I am laughing at you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t laugh at me; I am too miserable to bear
+that. Be patient with me as if I were ill.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are not strong enough to go from home.
+If you do not feel well, will you write for me to
+come and bring you home?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am well enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Promise me, please.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not promise,” she answered decidedly.
+</p>
+<p>
+They were neither of them in a mood for further
+talk; she felt more at rest than she had felt for two
+years; there was nothing to think of, nothing to be
+hurried about; she had a whole year to be happy
+in, and then—she would be happy then, too. As
+for him—she could not see his face, for they had
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346'></a>346</span>
+turned into the cross-road, thickly wooded, that
+opened into the clearing before the gates of Old
+Place.
+</p>
+<p>
+He spoke to his horse in his usual tone, “Gently,
+Charlie.” He stooped to wrap the robe more
+closely about her feet; as he raised himself, she
+slipped her ungloved hand into his. “Don’t be
+troubled about me, I will not be troubled; I will
+not reason; but don’t be sure; perhaps when the
+year is over I shall not be satisfied.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then you must take another year.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will not be so patient with me another
+year; I shall not take another year.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, you are a goose; but you are a darling,
+nevertheless.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You do not understand me,” she said, withdrawing
+her hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am too humble to expect ever to do that.
+You have never seen our home. Is it too late to
+go over the place to-night?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will go with your mother some time; she has
+described every room to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who is that fellow that you were engaged to?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is not a fellow.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Who is he?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Felix Harrison.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ah!” Then after a pause, “Tell me the whole
+story.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The whole story was not long; she began with his
+school-boy love, speaking in short sentences, words
+and tone becoming more intense as she went on
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347'></a>347</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I did not mean to be so wrong; but I was so
+unhappy and he cared—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What shall I do without you all winter?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What have you done without me every winter?”
+she asked merrily.
+</p>
+<p>
+With an effort she drew herself away from the
+arm that would have encircled her. Morbidly fearful
+of making another mistake, she would not answer
+his words or his tone.
+</p>
+<p>
+“The witches get into me at night,” she said,
+soberly, “and I say things that I may regret in
+the sunlight.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is not like you to regret speaking truth.
+Remember, I do not exact any promise from you;
+but if the time ever come that you know you love
+me, I want you to tell me so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He drove up under the maple trees, before the
+low iron fence, as he had done on the last night
+of the old year; another old year was almost ended;
+they stood holding each other’s hand, neither caring
+to speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ralph Towne would not have been himself, if he
+had not bent and kissed her lips; and she would
+not have been herself, had she not received it
+gravely and gladly. After that it was not easy
+to go in among the talkers and the lights; she
+stood longer than a moment on the piazza, schooling
+herself to bear scrutiny, to answer with unconcern;
+still she felt dizzy and answered the first
+questions rather at random.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348'></a>348</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Going around in the dark has set your wits to
+wool-gathering,” said her mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We waited tea,” said Dinah.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You did not come alone, daughter?” asked her
+father.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, sir. Dr. Towne brought me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We are very hungry,” said Mr. Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We will talk over the book before chess, Gus,
+if you please. I have some packing to do, and I
+am very tired.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How is Sue?” inquired her mother.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Very well.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is she taking it hard?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps. I do not know what hard is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is her mourning all ready?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes’m.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A young widow is a beautiful sight,” observed
+Mrs. Wadsworth pathetically.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Probably some one will think so,” said Mr.
+Hammerton, speaking quickly to save Tessa from
+replying.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Take off your things, Tessa,” said Dinah. “I
+want my supper.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It’s <em>his</em> night, isn’t it?” asked Mr. Hammerton,
+teasingly; Dinah colored, looked confused, and ran
+down-stairs to ring the tea-bell.
+</p>
+<p>
+The door-bell clanged sharply through the house
+as they were rising from the table. “I was young
+myself once,” remarked Mr. Hammerton.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t believe it,” retorted Dinah, putting her
+hands instinctively up to her hair.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349'></a>349</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“You’ll do, run along,” laughed her father.
+“Oh, how old I feel to see my little girls becoming
+women.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I should think Tessa would feel old,” replied
+Mrs. Wadsworth, significantly.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do,” said Tessa, rising. “Where is your criticism,
+Mr. Critic; I have some packing to do to-night,
+so you may cut me to pieces before chess.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No matter about chess,” said Mr. Wadsworth.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, it is; I will not be selfish.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then run up and talk over your bookish talk,
+mother and I will come up presently.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The sitting-room was cozy and home-like, even
+after the luxury of Mrs. Towne’s handsome apartment.
+“I don’t want to go away,” sighed Tessa,
+dropping into a chair near the round black-and-green
+covered table. “Why can’t people stay at
+home always?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why indeed?” Mr. Hammerton moved a chair
+to her side and seating himself carelessly threw an
+arm over the back of her chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+How many evenings they had read and studied
+in this fashion, with Dine on a low stool, her curly
+head in her sister’s lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+“They will never come again.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What?” asked Tessa opening the long, yellow
+envelope he had taken from his pocket.
+</p>
+<p>
+“The old days when you and Dine and I will not
+want any one else.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“True; Dine has left us already.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But you and I are content without her!”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350'></a>350</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are we? I am not sure! Gus your penmanship
+is perfect; when I am rich, you shall copy my
+books.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How rich?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, rich enough to give you all you would ask,”
+she answered thoughtlessly. “I expect that I shall
+have to undergo a process as trying as vivisection;
+but I will not flinch; it is good for me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t read it now; save it for the solitude of
+the country.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I am anxious to see it; you can be setting
+up the chess-men; I don’t want to take you away
+from father.”
+</p>
+<p>
+With the color rising in his cheeks, he arose and
+moved the chess-board nearer; standing before her,
+he began slowly to arrange the pieces. The three
+large sheets were closely written; she read slowly,
+once breaking into a laugh and then knitting her
+brows and drawing her lips together.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Are you not pleased? Am I not just?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A critic is not a fault-finder, necessarily; you
+are very plain. I will consider each sentence by
+itself in my solitude; you are a great help to me,
+Gus. I thank you very much. You have been a
+help to me all my life.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have tried to be,” he answered, taking up a
+castle and turning it in his fingers.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will rewrite my book, remembering all your
+suggestions.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You remember that Tennyson rewrote ‘Dora’
+four hundred and forty-five times, that Victor Hugo
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351'></a>351</span>
+declared that his six hundredth copy of ‘Thanatopsis’
+was his best, and that George Sand was
+heard to say with tears in her eyes that she wished
+she had rewritten ‘Adam Bede’ just once more
+and you have read that Tom Brown Hughes—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Go away with your nonsense! I told Dr. Towne
+that you were my critic and that you knew every
+thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you tell him every thing?” he asked, letting
+the castle fall upon the carpet.
+</p>
+<p>
+“That isn’t every thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you play a game with me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, thank you. I am too tired for any thing
+so tiresome.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You are ungrateful. Did I not teach you to
+play?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You did not teach me to play when I am tired.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You have promised to write to me, haven’t
+you?” he asked.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I haven’t! If you only knew how many
+I <em>have</em> promised; and Aunt Theresa has a basket
+quilt cut out for me to make, sixty-four blocks!
+How can you have the heart to suggest any thing
+beside?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How many persons have you refused to write
+to?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I just refused one.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I the only one you have refused?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, no,” slipping the folded sheets into the envelope,
+“there is Mr. Gesner and Dr. Greyson and
+Professor Towne and—”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352'></a>352</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Dr. Towne?” His uneasy fingers scattered
+several pawns over the black-and-green covering.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, and Dr. Towne! And he was very good
+about it, he only laughed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Lady Blue, speak the truth.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“About whom?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The latter. I am not concerned about the
+others.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I told you the truth and you do not believe
+me. Don’t you know that the truth is always funnier
+than a fabrication?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you ask me, perhaps I will come down and
+stay over a Sunday with you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you? Oh, I wish you would! I expect
+to be homesick. Uncle Knox will be delighted to
+have you to talk to.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not think that I shall travel fifty miles on
+a cold night to talk to <em>him</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I am sure that you will not to talk to
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You do not know what I would do for you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I do. Any thing short of martyrdom.
+Don’t you want to go in and see John Woodstock?
+He is a pretty boy. There come father
+and mother. You will excuse me if I do not make
+my appearance again to-night; you know I have
+been with Sue and I am so tired.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you will not write to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What for? You may read Dine’s letters.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tell me true, Tessa,” he answered catching both
+her hands, “<em>did</em> you refuse to write to Dr. Towne?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353'></a>353</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, I did.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, may I ask?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“For the same reason that I refuse to write to
+you—no, that is not quite true—” she added, “but
+it is because I don’t want to write to either of you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Have all these years given me the right to ask
+you a question?”
+</p>
+<p>
+He still held both hands.
+</p>
+<p>
+She answered seriously, “Yes. You are all the
+big brother I have.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I will not ask it,” dropping her hands
+and turning away.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Say good-by, then.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Good-by.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have not said any thing to displease you,
+have I?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You will not write to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I can’t. I would if I could. I will tell
+you—then you will understand and not care—somebody—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What right has somebody—”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth entered laughing, Mr. Wadsworth
+was close behind.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Excuse me, sir; I can’t stay to play to-night.
+Good night, Lady Blue. A pleasant visit and safe
+return.”
+</p>
+<p>
+An hour later Tessa was kneeling on the carpet
+before her open trunk squeezing a roll of pencilled
+manuscript into a corner.
+</p>
+<p>
+A tap at the door was followed by a voice,
+“Daughter, may I come in?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354'></a>354</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you will not mind the confusion.”
+</p>
+<p>
+He closed the door and seated himself on a chair
+near the end of the trunk.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There is a confusion somewhere that I <em>do</em>
+mind,” he began nervously.
+</p>
+<p>
+She looked up in surprise. “Why, father, is
+there something that you don’t like? Don’t you
+like it about Dine?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Daughter, if you are so blind that you will not
+see, I must tell you. I like it well enough about
+Dine, but I do not like it about <em>you</em>?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Was it about Dr. Towne? How could he object
+to him? For he could not be aware of <em>her</em> objection.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am afraid that you are teasing Gus rather too
+much.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Teasing Gus! I never really teased him in my
+life. We have never quarrelled even once.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought that women were quick about such
+things, but you are as blind as a bat.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Such things?” She was making room for a
+glove box, a pretty one of Russia leather that Gus
+had given her. “He never cares for what I say!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do you know that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How do I know?” she repeated in perplexity,
+making space in a corner while she considered her
+reply. “Don’t <em>you</em> know why he can not be teased
+by what I say and do?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know this—he has asked me if he may marry
+you some day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>Me!</em> You mean Dine. You can’t mean me. I
+know it is Dine.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355'></a>355</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, child,” laughing heartily, “why should I
+mean Dine? Why should it not be you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It must be Dine,” she said positively. “Didn’t
+he say Dine?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Am I in my dotage?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Couldn’t you misunderstand?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, I could not. What is the matter with you,
+to-night? You act as if you were bewildered.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“So I am.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“One evening, on the piazza, was it in May or
+June? I was not well and I said so to him; and
+he answered by telling me that he had always
+thought of you, that he had grown up hoping to
+marry you. Dine! Am I blind? Have I been
+blind these ten years?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Didn’t he say any thing about Dine?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We spoke of her, of course. I would not tell
+you, but I see how you are playing with him; he
+will not intrude himself. O, Tessa, for a bright girl,
+you are very stupid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not bright; I am stupid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“This sisterly love is all very well, but a man
+can not bear to have it carried too far. He is pure
+gold, daughter; he is worthy of a princess. Now
+don’t worry; you haven’t done any harm. Go to
+bed and go to sleep; you have had too much worry
+this last week.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know it must be Dine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“If you did not look half sick, I would be
+angry with you. I thought women were quick
+witted.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356'></a>356</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose some are,” she said slowly. “He will
+never ask me, never.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why not?” he asked sharply.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because—because—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Because you haven’t thought of it. If you do
+not like any one—and I don’t see how you can—you
+don’t, do you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t—know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“There! There, dear, don’t cry! Go to sleep
+and forget it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I thought it was Dine. I have always thought
+that it was Dine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well, good night. Don’t throw away the best
+man in the world. I have known him ever since
+he wore dresses, and he is worthy—even of you.
+Put out your light and go to sleep. Don’t give
+him a heartache.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, I won’t, I won’t—if I can help it!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t have any whims. There, child, don’t cry!
+Kiss me and go to sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She did not cry; she was stunned and bewildered;
+it was too dreadful to be true; even if she did love
+Ralph Towne she would not love him if it would
+make unhappy this friend and helper of all her life!
+This new friend should not come between them to
+make him miserable. Even if the old dream about
+Ralph Towne <em>could</em> come true, she would not accept
+his love at the cost of Gus Hammerton’s happiness.
+Was he not her right arm? Was he not her right
+eye? She had never missed him because he had
+always lived in her life; he was as much a part of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357'></a>357</span>
+her home as her father and Dine; she would give
+up any thing rather than hurt him. Had she not
+suffered with him when she thought that he was
+unhappy about Dine? She had loved him so much
+that she had never thought of loving him; she had
+been so proud that he had loved Dine. Was it his
+influence that had kept her from loving Felix Harrison?
+Was he the hindrance that was coming
+between her and Dr. Towne? Was she troubled
+because she could not honor and trust Dr. Towne
+as she had unconsciously honored and trusted this
+old, old friend? If the illusion about Ralph Towne
+had never been dispelled, she would not have discovered
+that Gus Hammerton was “pure gold” as
+her father had said. They were both miserable to-night
+because of her—and she had permitted one
+of them to kiss her. Ralph Towne had left her
+once to fight out her battle alone—he had not
+been the shadow of a rock in her weary land—she
+could think of this now away from the fascination
+of his presence; but, present or absent, there
+was no doubt, no reasoning about the old friend;
+he had been tried, he was steadfast and true. True,
+she had forgiven Ralph Towne; but her forgiveness
+had not wrought any change in him. He was the
+Ralph Towne of a year ago, with this difference
+that now he loved her. Had his love for her
+wrought any change in him? Was he not himself?
+Would he not always be himself? Was she
+satisfied with him if she could feel the need of
+change?
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358'></a>358</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+A year ago would she have reasoned thus?
+Where love is, is there need of reasoning to prove
+its existence, its depth or its power of continuance?
+She knew that she loved God; she knew that she
+loved her father. If she loved Ralph Towne, why
+did she not know that, also?
+</p>
+<p>
+Why must she reason? Why might she not
+<em>know</em>? She did not know that she loved him. Did
+she know that she did <em>not</em> love him? Wearied even
+to exhaustion, her head drooped until it touched the
+soft pile in the open trunk; there were no tears, not
+a sound moved her lips; she was very glad that she
+was going away.
+</p>
+<p>
+If she might tell Gus, would he not talk it over
+to her and make it plain? It would not be the
+first matter in which he had taught her to discern
+between the wrong and the right. Was there a
+wrong and a right in this choosing?
+</p>
+<p>
+The large tears gathered and fell.
+</p>
+<p>
+Ralph Towne could not help her; he would say
+caressingly, “Love me, and end the matter.” In
+her extremity he was not a helper. Would he ever
+be in any extremity of hers?
+</p>
+<p>
+The tears fell for very weariness and bewilderment.
+What beside was there to shed tears about?
+She was so weary that she had forgotten.
+</p>
+<p>
+A laugh in the hall below; the sound of a scuffle,
+another laugh, and the closing of the street
+door.
+</p>
+<p>
+Those two children!
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah burst into the room, still laughing. “Why,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359'></a>359</span>
+Tessa! All through! You look as if you wanted
+to pack yourself up, too,” she cried in a breezy voice.
+“The candle is almost burnt down.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No matter. Don’t get another.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Your voice sounds as if you were sick. Mother
+has been expecting you to be too sick to go.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I shall not be sick,” rising, and dropping the
+lid of her trunk. “Tell me about the night you
+overheard Gus talking to father on the piazza.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I did tell you, didn’t I? He did not mind because
+John came tonight; didn’t you hear him
+tease me? About that night? Oh, I was asleep,
+and they were on the piazza; of course I don’t
+know how long they had been talking, nor what
+suggested it, but I heard him say,—really I’ve forgotten
+just what, it was so long ago,—but father
+said that he was so glad and happy about it, or it
+meant that. I suppose I may have missed some
+of it. Poor old Gus said that he knew I did not
+care for any one else. Isn’t it touching? Poor
+fellow! And I didn’t then. I never should if I
+hadn’t gone away and found John. Lucky for me,
+wasn’t it? Gus never looked at me as he did at
+you tonight, anyway; I guess he’s transferring.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Long after midnight Tessa fell asleep; her last
+thought shaping itself thus:
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not reason myself into loving or not loving,
+any more than I can reason the sun into shining
+or not shining.”
+</p>
+<p>
+On her way to the train the next morning, she
+mailed a letter addressed—
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360'></a>360</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<em>“Ralph&nbsp;&nbsp;Towne,&nbsp;&nbsp;M.&nbsp;&nbsp;D.,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;City.”</em><br />
+</p>
+<p>
+Her tender, passionate, truth-loving, bewildered
+heart had poured itself out in these words:
+</p>
+<hr class='tb' />
+<p>
+“I am so afraid of leading you to think something
+that is not true; something that I may have
+to contradict in the future. When I am with you,
+I forget every thing but you; when I am alone, my
+heart rises up and warns me that I may be making
+another mistake, that I only <em>think</em> I love you because
+I want to so much, and that I should only
+worry you with my caprices and doubts if I should
+marry you. You have been very patient with me,
+but you might lose your patience if I should try it
+too far. I <em>will</em> not marry you until I am <em>sure</em>; I
+must know of a certainty that I love you with the
+love that hopes, endures, that can suffer long and
+still is kind. You do not know me, I am hard and
+proud; when I went down into the Valley of Humiliation
+because of believing that you loved me when
+you did not, I was not gentle and sweet and forgiving—I
+was hard and bitter; I hated you almost
+as much as I had loved you. Now I must think it
+all through and live through all those days, the
+days when I loved you and the days when I hated
+you, before I can understand myself. I could marry
+you and we could live a life of surface peace and
+satisfaction, and you might be satisfied in me and
+with me; but if <em>I</em> felt the need of loving you more
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361'></a>361</span>
+than I did love you, my life would be bondage. If
+the pride and hardness and unforgivingness may
+be taken away and I <em>may</em> love you and believe in
+you as I did that day that you brought me the
+English violets, I shall be as happy—no, a thousand
+times happier than I was then. But you must
+not hope for that; it is not <em>natural</em>; it may be that
+of grace such changes are wrought, but grace is
+long in working in proud hearts. You are not
+bound to me by any word that you have spoken;
+find some one gentle and loving who will love you
+for what you are and for what you will be.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362'></a>362</span><a name='ch23' id='ch23'></a>XXIII.—WHAT SHE MEANT.</h2>
+<p>
+In the weeks that followed, Tessa learned to the
+full the meaning of <em>homesickness</em>. No kindness could
+have exceeded the kindness that she hourly received
+from uncle and aunt and from the inmates of the
+cottage over the way; still every night, or rather
+early every morning, she fell asleep with tears upon
+her cheeks; she longed for her father, her mother,
+for Dine and Gus, for Miss Jewett, for Nan Gerard,
+and even poor, grief-stricken Sue; for Mrs. Towne’s
+dear face and dear hands she longed inexpressibly,
+and she longed with a longing to which she would
+give no sympathy for another presence, an unobtrusive
+presence that would not push its way, a
+presence with the aroma of humility, gentleness,
+and a shy love that persisted with a persistence
+that neither the darkness of night nor the light of
+day could dispel.
+</p>
+<p>
+Lying alone in the darkness in the strange, low
+room, with a fading glow upon the hearth that
+lent an air of unreality to the old-fashioned furniture,
+she congratulated herself upon having been
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363'></a>363</span>
+brave and true, of having withheld from her lips a
+draught for which she had so long and so despairingly
+thirsted; she had been so brave and true that
+she must needs be strong, wherefore then was she
+so weak? Sometimes for hours she would lie in perfect
+quiet thinking of Mr. Hammerton; but thinking
+of him as calmly as she thought about her father.
+There was no intensity in her love for him, no
+thrill, save that of gratitude for his years of brotherly
+watchfulness; she would have been proud of
+him had he married Dine; his friendship was a distinction
+that she had worn for years as her rarest
+ornament; he was her intellect, as her father was
+her conscience, but to give up all the others for
+him, to love him above father, mother, sister—to
+give up forever the hope of loving Ralph Towne
+some day—she shuddered and covered her face
+with her hands there alone in the dark. Cheery
+enough she was through the days, sewing for Aunt
+Theresa and falling into her happiest talk of books
+and people, thoughts and things, reading aloud to
+Uncle Knox, and every evening reading aloud the
+pages of manuscript that she had written that day,
+and every afternoon, laying aside work or writing,
+to run across to the cottage for a couple of hours
+with Miss Sarepta.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Sarepta at her window in her wheelchair
+watched all day the black, brown, or blue figure at
+her writing or sewing, and when the hour came,
+saw the pencils dropped into the box, the leaves
+of manuscript gathered, the figure rise and toss
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364'></a>364</span>
+out its arms with a weary motion; then, in a few
+moments the figure with a bright shawl over its
+head would run down the path, stand a moment
+at the gate to look up and down and all around,
+and then, with the air of a child out of school, run
+across the street and sometimes around the garden
+before she brought her bright face into the
+watcher’s cosy, little world.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Sarepta’s mother described Tessa as “bright,
+wide awake, and ready for the next thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Sarepta told Tessa that while knowing that
+good things were laid up for her, she had no thought
+that such a good thing as Tessa Wadsworth was
+laid up for this winter’s enjoyment and employment.
+</p>
+<p>
+It may be that the strain of the day’s living
+added to the feverishness of the night’s yearnings;
+for when darkness fell and the wind sounded
+in the sitting-room chimney, her heart sank, her
+hands grew cold, her throat ached with repressed
+tears, and when she could no longer bear it, the
+daily paper having been read aloud and a letter or
+two written, she would take her candle and bid the
+old people as cheery a good night as her lips could
+utter and hasten up-stairs to her fire on the hearth
+to reperuse her letters and to dream waking dreams
+of what might be, and when the fire burned low to
+lie awake in the darkness, till, spent in flesh and in
+spirit, she would fall asleep.
+</p>
+<p>
+At the beginning of the third week, she took
+herself to hand; with a figurative and merciless
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365'></a>365</span>
+gripe upon each shoulder she thus addressed herself:
+“Now, Tessa Wadsworth, you and I have
+had enough of this; we have had enough of freaks
+and whims for one lifetime; you are to behave
+and go to sleep.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Behaving and going to sleep took until midnight
+with the first attempt, and she dreamed of
+Dr. Lake and awoke crying. Was Sue crying, too?
+Sue had loved her husband, his influence would
+color all her life, she might yet become her ideal
+of a woman; <em>womanly</em>. Sue’s hand had been in
+his life; had not his hand with a firmer grasp tightened
+around her life?
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa did not forget to be metaphysical even at
+midnight with the tears of a dream on her eyelashes.
+</p>
+<p>
+Was every one she loved asleep, or had some one
+dreamed of her and awoke to think of her?
+</p>
+<p>
+“God bless every one I love,” she murmured,
+“and every one who loves me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The next night by sheer force of will she was
+asleep before the clock struck eleven, and did not
+dream of home or once awake until Hilda, the
+Swedish servant, passed her door at dawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+Her letters through this time were radiant, of
+course. Mrs. Towne only, with her perfect understanding
+of Tessa, detected the homesickness, or
+heartsickness. Tessa was wading in deep waters;
+she did not need her, else she would have come to
+her. She had learned that it was her characteristic
+to fight out her battles alone.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366'></a>366</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+Had Ralph any thing to do with this? He had
+suddenly grown graver, not more silent; in the
+morning his eyes would have a sleepless look, the
+sunshine seemed utterly gone from them; once he
+said, apropos of nothing, after a long fit of abstraction:
+“It is right for a man to pay for being a
+fool and a knave, but it comes terribly hard.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I suppose it must,” she had replied, “until he
+learns how God forgives.”
+</p>
+<p>
+In her next letter to Tessa, Mrs. Towne had written,
+“Do you know how God forgives?” and Tessa
+had replied, “You and I seem to be thinking the
+same thought nowadays, and nowanights, for last
+night it came to me that loving <em>enough</em> to forgive
+is the love that makes Him so happy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+This letter was the only one of all written that
+winter that Mrs. Towne showed to her son. It was
+not returned to her. Months afterward he showed
+it to Tessa, saying that that thought was more to
+him than all the sermons to which he had ever listened.
+“Because you didn’t know how to listen,”
+she answered saucily, adding in a reverent tone, “I
+did not understand it until I <em>lived</em> it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The letter had been written with burning cheeks;
+if he might read it, she would be glad; it would reveal
+something that she did not dare tell him herself;
+but she had no hope that he would see it.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa is not so bright as she was,” observed
+Miss Sarepta’s mother, “she’s more settled down;
+I guess that she has found out what she means; it
+takes a deal of time for young women to do that.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367'></a>367</span><a name='ch24' id='ch24'></a>XXIV.—SHUT IN.</h2>
+<p>
+It was a trial to Sarepta Towne that the sun did
+not rise and set in the west, for in that case her
+bay window would have been perfect.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah had named this window “summer time:”
+on each side ivy was climbing in profusion; on the
+right side stood a fuchsia six feet in height; opposite
+this an oleander was bursting into bloom; a
+rose geranium and a pot of sweet clover were
+placed on brackets and were Tessa’s special favorites;
+one hanging basket from which trailed Wandering
+Jew was filled with oxalis in bloom, another
+was but a mass of graceful and shining greens.
+</p>
+<p>
+In the centre of the window on a low table stood
+a Ward’s case; into this Dinah had never grown tired
+of looking; Professor Towne had constructed it on
+his last visit at home, and one of the pleasures
+of it to Miss Sarepta had consisted in the talks
+they had while planning it together. Among its
+ferns, mosses, berries, and trailing arbutus they had
+formed a grotto of shells and bits of rocks; the floor
+was bits of looking-glass; tufts of eye-bright were
+mingled with the mosses and were now in bloom,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368'></a>368</span>
+and Miss Sarepta was sure that the trailing arbutus
+would flower before Tessa could bring it home to
+her from the woods.
+</p>
+<p>
+“This room is full of Philip and Cousin Ralph,”
+Sarepta had said; “his picture is but one of the
+things in it and in this house to remind me of
+Cousin Ralph.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sarepta breathes Philip,” her mother replied.
+</p>
+<p>
+“We are twin spirits like Blaise and Jacqueline
+Pascal. Do you know about them, Tessa?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know that he was a monk and she a nun.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That is like me, and not like Philip,” said Miss
+Sarepta; “he shall not be a monk because I am
+a nun!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“His wife will be jealous enough of you, though,”
+said Mrs. Towne; “not a mail comes that he does not
+send you something. How would she like that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Philip could not love any one that would come
+between us. Tessa, do you admire my brother as
+much as I wish you to do?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I admire him exceedingly,” said Tessa, looking
+up from her twenty-fifth block of the basket quilt;
+“he is my ideal. I knew that I had found my ideal
+as soon as I saw him; I did not wait to hear him
+speak.”
+</p>
+<p>
+And that he was her ideal she became more and
+more assured, for in February he spent a week at
+home and she had opportunity to study him at all
+hours and in any hour of the day. He had lost his
+fancied resemblance to Dr. Towne, or <em>she</em> had lost
+it in thinking of him as only himself. The long
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369'></a>369</span>
+talks, during which she sat, at Miss Sarepta’s side,
+on a foot cushion, work in hand, the basket blocks,
+or some more fanciful work for Miss Sarepta, she
+remembered afterward as one of the times in her
+life in which she <em>grew</em>. She told Miss Sarepta that
+she and her brother were like the men and women
+that St. Paul in his Epistles sent his love to. “He
+ought to marry a saint like Madame Guyon; I think
+that it would be easier to revere him as a saint than
+to marry him. I can’t imagine any woman forgiving
+him, or loving him because he <em>needs</em> her love;
+he stands so far above me, I could never think of
+him as at my side and sometimes saying, ‘Help me,
+Tessa,’ or, ‘What do <em>you</em> think?’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now we know your ideal of marriage,” laughed
+Mrs. Towne. “Philip is a good boy, but he sometimes
+needs looking after.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Stockings and shirt buttons!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And other things, too. He is forgetful, and
+he’s rather careless. How much he is taken up
+with that reading class!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“In a monkish way,” smiled Miss Sarepta. “He
+was full of enthusiasm about Ralph, too, mother.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“How is it, Miss Tessa, do you admire Dr. Towne
+as much as you do St. Philip?” inquired the old
+lady with good-humored sarcasm.
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is not a saint,” said Tessa, “he needs looking
+after in several matters besides stockings and
+shirt buttons.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Philip talks about him! What is it that he
+says he is, Sarepta?”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370'></a>370</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“In his profession just what he expected that
+he would be,—quick, quiet, gentle, sympathetic,
+patient, persevering; he has thrown himself into
+it heart and soul. Philip used to wonder if he
+would ever find his vocation; his life always had
+a promise of good things—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But he was slow about it; not quick like Philip;
+he should have begun practice ten years ago. What
+has he been doing all this time?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“We can see the fruit of his doing, mother; it
+does not much matter as to the doing itself. Don’t
+you know that six years are given to the perfecting
+even of a beetle?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know about beetles and things; I know
+that I used to think that my boy would outstrip
+Lydia’s boy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mother! mother!” laughed Sarepta, “you mind
+earthly things. I shall never run a race with anybody.
+Can’t you be a little proud of me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sarepta Towne had her brother’s eyes, but her
+hair was brighter, with not one silver thread among
+its short curls; her fair, fresh face was certainly ten
+years younger than his. In summer her wrappers
+were of white; in winter she kept herself a bird in
+gay plumage; always the singing-bird, in white or
+crimson. When Philip Towne said “My sister,”
+his voice and eyes said “My saint.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Once, after a silence, Tessa asked about her
+“Shut-ins.” “How did it come into your heart
+at first?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is a long story; first tell me what your heart
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371'></a>371</span>
+has been about. It has been painting your eyes
+darker and darker.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is a very foolish heart then; it was only repeating
+something that I learned once and did not
+then understand. I do not know that I can say it
+correctly, but it is like this:
+</p>
+<p>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;“‘God’s&nbsp;&nbsp;generous&nbsp;&nbsp;in&nbsp;&nbsp;giving,&nbsp;&nbsp;say&nbsp;&nbsp;I,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;thing&nbsp;&nbsp;which&nbsp;&nbsp;he&nbsp;&nbsp;gives,&nbsp;&nbsp;I&nbsp;&nbsp;deny<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;ever&nbsp;&nbsp;can&nbsp;&nbsp;take&nbsp;&nbsp;back&nbsp;&nbsp;again.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;gives&nbsp;&nbsp;what&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;gives:&nbsp;&nbsp;be&nbsp;&nbsp;content.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;resumes&nbsp;&nbsp;nothing&nbsp;&nbsp;given;&nbsp;&nbsp;be&nbsp;&nbsp;sure.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;God&nbsp;&nbsp;lend?&nbsp;&nbsp;where&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;usurers&nbsp;&nbsp;lent<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In&nbsp;&nbsp;His&nbsp;&nbsp;temple,&nbsp;&nbsp;indignant&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;went<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;scourged&nbsp;&nbsp;away&nbsp;&nbsp;all&nbsp;&nbsp;those&nbsp;&nbsp;impure.<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;lends&nbsp;&nbsp;not,&nbsp;&nbsp;but&nbsp;&nbsp;gives&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;end,<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;loves&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;the&nbsp;&nbsp;end.&nbsp;&nbsp;If&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;seem<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That&nbsp;&nbsp;He&nbsp;&nbsp;draws&nbsp;&nbsp;back&nbsp;&nbsp;a&nbsp;&nbsp;gift,&nbsp;&nbsp;comprehend<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;’Tis&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;add&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;rather,&nbsp;&nbsp;amend<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And&nbsp;&nbsp;finish&nbsp;&nbsp;it&nbsp;&nbsp;up&nbsp;&nbsp;to&nbsp;&nbsp;your&nbsp;&nbsp;dream.’”<br />
+</p>
+<p>
+“Well?” said Miss Sarepta.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Once,—a long time ago, it seems now,—He
+gave me something; it was love for somebody;
+and then He took it—or I let it go, because it was
+too much trouble to keep it; I did not like His gift,
+it hurt too much; I was glad to let it go, and yet I
+missed it so; I was not worthy such a perfect gift
+as a love that could be hurt in loving; I could love
+as I loved all beauty and goodness and truth, but
+when I found that love must hold on and endure,
+must hope and believe, must suffer shame and loss,
+I gave it up. God was generous in giving; He
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_372'></a>372</span>
+gave me all I could receive, and when He would
+have given me more, I shrank away from His giving
+and said, ‘It hurts too much. I am too proud
+to take love or give love if I must be made humble
+first. I wanted to give like a queen, not stooping
+from my full height, and I wanted to give to a
+king: instead, I was asked to give—just like any
+common mortal to another common mortal, and
+that after we had misinterpreted and misunderstood
+each other, and I had written hard things
+of him all over my heart, and what he had thought
+me, nobody knows but himself! And now I think,
+if I will, that I may have the love again finished
+up to my dream; finished above any thing that I
+knew how to ask or think, and it is altogether too
+good and perfect a gift for me; so good that I can
+not keep it, I must needs give it away.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa had told her story with quickened breath,
+not once lifting the eyes that were growing darker
+and darker.
+</p>
+<p>
+Miss Sarepta’s “thank you” held all the appreciation
+that Tessa wished.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And now,” after another silence, for these two
+loved silences together, “you want to know about
+my dear Shut-ins. Philip named them from the
+words, ‘And the Lord shut him in.’ It began one
+day when I was sitting alone thinking! I am often
+sitting alone thinking; but this day I was thinking
+sad thoughts about my useless, idle life, and I had
+planned my life to be such a busy life. There was
+nothing that I could do to help along; I had to sit
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_373'></a>373</span>
+still and be helped; and I shouldn’t wonder if I cried
+a little. That was five years ago, we were living
+in the city then; in the middle of my bemoanings
+and my tears, I spied the postman crossing the
+street. How Philip laughed when I told him that
+I loved that postman better than any man in all
+the world! That day he brought me several lovely
+things: one of them a book from Cousin Ralph, and
+a letter from Aunt Lydia; that letter is the beginning
+of my story. She told me about a little invalid
+that she had found and suggested that I should
+write one of my charming letters to her. Of course
+you know that I write charming letters! So I wiped
+away my naughty tears and wrote the charming letter!
+In a few days, my hero, the postman, brought
+the reply. That was my first Shut-in letter. Bring
+me the album, I will show you Susie.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa brought it and Miss Sarepta opened it on
+her lap to an intelligent, serious, sweet face.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She has not taken a step for many years; she
+is among the youngest of many children; her great
+love is love for children, she teaches daily thirteen
+little ones. The one thing in her life that strikes
+me is her <em>faithfulness</em>. There is nothing too little
+for her to be faithful in. One of her great longings
+used to be for letters; oh, if the postman
+would only bring her a letter! For a year or two
+I wrote every week, the longest, brightest, most
+every-day letters I could think of. And one day
+it came to me that if <em>we</em> had such a good time together,
+why should we not find some other to
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_374'></a>374</span>
+whom a letter or a book would be as a breath of
+fresh air. I pondered the matter for a month or
+two, but I couldn’t advertise for an invalid, and
+none of my friends knew of any. One morning I
+glanced through a religious paper, and tossed it
+aside, then something moved me to pick it up
+again, and there she was! The one I sought!
+That was Elsie. Look at her pale, patient face.
+For fourteen years she has lived in one room.
+And hasn’t she the brightest, most grateful, happiest
+heart that ever beat in a frail body or a strong
+one? Her poems are graceful little things; I will
+show you some of them. She had been praying six
+months for a helpful friend, when she received my
+first letter. Her letters are gems. You shall read
+a pile of them. And she had a Shut-in friend, to
+whom I must write, of course. She is Mabel. I
+have no picture of her. When she was well, they
+called her the laughing girl; she has lain eleven
+years in bed!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, dear me!” sighed Tessa.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t sigh, child. She writes in pencil as she
+can not lift her head. I call her my sunbeam.
+She often dates her letters ‘In my Corner.’ So another
+year went on with my three Shut-ins. I forgot
+to cry about my folded hands and useless life.
+One day it came into my mind to write a sketch
+and call it, ‘Our Shut-in Society’; to write all about
+Mabel and Elsie and Sue, and send it to the paper
+in which I had found Elsie’s first article.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And that sketch! How it was read! I received letters
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_375'></a>375</span>
+from north, south, east, and west concerning
+it. Was there really such a society, and
+were there such happy people as Mabel, Elsie, and
+Susie? One who had not spoken aloud for fourteen
+years would love to write to them; another
+who had locked her school-room door one summer
+day, and come home to rest, had been forced to rest
+through eight long years, and was so lonely, with
+her sisters married and away; another, quite an old
+man, who had lain for six years in the loft of an
+old log-cabin, was eager for a word or a paper.
+How his letter touched us all! ‘The others have
+letters, but when the mail comes naught comes to
+me,’ he wrote. But you will be tired of hearing
+my long story; you shall see their letters; you must
+see Delle’s letters; she sits all day in a wheelchair,
+and has no hope of ever taking a step; she has a
+mother and a little boy; the brightest little boy!
+Her poems have appeared in some of our best periodicals;
+we are something beside a band of sufferers,
+Miss Tessa; some of us are literary! My
+most precious letters are from Elizabeth; her fiftieth
+birthday came not long since; for ten years
+her home has been in one room; she has written a
+book that the Shut-ins cry over.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And oh, we have a prisoner! A Shut-in shut
+up in state’s prison. A young man with an innocent,
+boyish face; he ran away from home when he
+was a child and ran into state’s prison because no
+one cared what became of him. His letters are
+unaffected and grateful; he does want to be a good
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_376'></a>376</span>
+boy! Thirty-six are on my list now; I would find
+more if I had strength to write more; some of them
+have more and some less than I; many of them
+have Shut-ins that I know nothing about. We
+remember each other on holidays and birthdays!
+The things that postmen and country mail-carriers
+have in their mail-bags are funny to see: flower
+seeds, bits of fancy work, photographs, pictures,
+any thing and every thing!
+</p>
+<p>
+“They all look forward to mail-time through the
+night and through the day.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And, speaking humanly, my share in it, all I
+receive and the little I give, came out of my self-bemoanings
+and tears; my longing to be a helper
+in some small way!
+</p>
+<p>
+“Now if you want to help me, you may cut some
+blocks of patch-work for me. One of the Shut-ins
+is making a quilt to leave as a memorial to her
+daughter, and I want to send my contribution
+to the mail to-night; and you may direct several
+papers for me, and cover that book, ‘Thoughts for
+Weary Hours.’ I press you into my service, you
+see.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Miss Sarepta, I am ashamed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Shame is an evidence of something; go on.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am ashamed that I am such a dreamer.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Philip says that you are a dreamer.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I care for my writing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Mowers work while they whet their scythes,”
+quoted Miss Sarepta.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_377'></a>377</span><a name='ch25' id='ch25'></a>XXV.—BLUE MYRTLE.</h2>
+<p>
+In March, Tessa found myrtle in bloom, and took
+a handful of the blue blossoms mingled with sprays
+of the green leaves to Miss Sarepta.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Spring has come,” she said dropping them on
+the open book in Miss Sarepta’s lap.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If spring has come, then I must lose you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Every hand that I know in Dunellen is beckoning
+me homewards; my winter’s work is done.”
+</p>
+<p>
+That evening—it was the sixth of March, that
+date ever afterward was associated with blue myrtle
+and Nan Gerard—she was sitting at the table
+writing letters; in the same chair and at the same
+place at the table where Dinah had written her
+letter about Gus and her wonderful John; Aunt
+Theresa was knitting this evening also, and Uncle
+Knox was asleep in a chintz-covered wooden rocker
+with the big cat asleep on his knees.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had written a letter to Mabel and one to
+Elsie, lively descriptive letters, making a picture of
+Miss Sarepta’s book-lined, picture-decorated, flower-scented
+room and a picture of Miss Sarepta, also
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_378'></a>378</span>
+touching lightly upon her own breezy out-of-door
+life with its hard work and its beautiful hopes.
+The third letter was a sheet to Mrs. Towne; the
+sentence in ending was one that Mrs. Towne had
+been eagerly and anxiously expecting all through
+the winter: “My ring reminds me of my promise;
+a promise that I shall keep some day, perhaps.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, are you unhappy, child?” asked Aunt
+Theresa with a knitting needle between her lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Unhappy! Why, auntie, what am I doing?”
+</p>
+<p>
+The tall lamp with its white china shade stood
+between them. Aunt Theresa took the knitting
+needle from its place of safety and counted fourteen
+stitches before she replied.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sighing! When young people sigh, something
+must ail them. What do <em>you</em> have to be miserable
+about?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am not miserable.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tell me, what are you miserable about?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sometimes—I am not satisfied—that is all.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I should think that that was enough. What
+are you dissatisfied about? Haven’t you enough
+to eat and to drink and clothes enough to wear?
+Haven’t you a good father and mother who wouldn’t
+see you want for any thing? What is it that you
+haven’t enough of, pray?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know that I am wishing for any thing—to night.
+I am learning to wait.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, you are! You are wishing for something
+that isn’t in this world, I know.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Then I’ll find it in heaven.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_379'></a>379</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“People don’t sigh after heaven as a usual thing.
+You read too many books, that’s what’s the matter
+with you. Reading too many books affects different
+people in different ways; I’ve seen a good deal
+of girls’ reading.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s pen was scribbling initials on a half sheet
+of paper.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know the symptoms. Some girls when they
+read love-stories become dissatisfied with their
+looks; they look into the glass and worry over
+their freckles or their dark skins, or their big
+mouths or turn-up noses; they fuss over their
+waists and try to squeeze them slim and slender,
+and they cripple themselves squeezing their number
+four feet into number two shoes. But you are
+not that kind. And some girls despise their fathers
+and mothers because they can’t speak grammar
+and pronounce long words, and because they
+say ‘care’ for carry and ‘empt’ for empty! And
+they despise their homes and their plain, substantial
+furniture. But you are not that kind
+either. Your face is well enough, and your father
+and mother are well enough, and your home
+is well enough.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa was scribbling Dunellen, then she wrote
+R. T. and Nan Gerard.
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you are not sighing for a lordly lover,”
+continued Aunt Theresa, with increasing energy
+“You don’t want him to wear a cloak or carry a
+sword. Your trouble is different! You read a
+higher grade of love-stories, about men that are
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_380'></a>380</span>
+honorable and true, who would die before they
+would tell a lie or say any thing that isn’t so.
+They are as gentle as zephyrs; they would walk
+over eggs and not crack them; they are always
+thinking of something new and startling and deep
+that it can’t enter a woman’s mind to conceive, and
+their faces have different expressions enough in
+one minute to wear one ordinary set of muscles
+out; and they never think of themselves, they
+would burn up and not know it, because they
+were keeping a fly off of somebody else; they are
+so high and mighty and simple and noble that an
+angel might take pattern by them. And that is
+what troubles you. You read about such fine fellows
+and shut the book and step out into life and
+break your heart because the real, mannish man,
+who is usually as good as human nature and all
+the grace he has got will help him be, isn’t so perfect
+and noble as this perfect man that somebody
+has made out of his head. You can’t be satisfied
+with a real human man who thinks about himself
+and does wrong when it is too hard to do right,
+even if he comes on his bended knees and says he’s
+sorry and that he’ll never do such a thing again.
+You want to love somebody that you are proud of;
+you are too proud to love somebody that is as weak
+as you are. And so you can’t be satisfied at all!
+Why <em>must</em> you be satisfied?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why should I not be?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“For the best reason in the world; to be satisfied
+in any man, in his love for you and in your love for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_381'></a>381</span>
+him, would be—do you know what it would be?
+It would be idolatry.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Aunt Theresa’s attention was given to her knitting;
+she did not see the shining of Tessa’s eyes.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Be satisfied with God, child, and take all the
+happiness you can get.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s pen was making tremulous capitals.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Be satisfied <em>with</em>, if you can, but not <em>in</em>, some
+good man who stumbles to-day and stands straight
+to-morrow; I fought it out on that line once, and so
+I know all about it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+This then was the experience that Dr. Towne
+had said that she must ask for; had he guessed
+that it would be altogether on his side?
+</p>
+<p>
+This was it, and this was all. Uncle Knox’s old
+eyes had a look for his old wife that they never
+held for any other living thing, and as for Aunt
+Theresa, how often had Tessa thought, “I want to
+grow old and love somebody the way you do.”
+</p>
+<p>
+<em>Might</em> she be satisfied with God and love Ralph
+Towne all she wanted to?
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, Theresa,” exclaimed Uncle Knox, opening
+his eyes and staring at his wife, “I haven’t
+heard you talk so much sentiment for thirty years.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And you will not in another thirty years. But
+Tessa was in a tangle—I know eggs when I see the
+shells—and I had to help her out.”
+</p>
+<p>
+A tap at the window brought Tessa to her feet.
+A neighbor had brought the mail; she took the
+papers and letters with a most cordial “thank you”
+and came to the table with both hands full. The
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_382'></a>382</span>
+papers she opened and glanced through; the letters
+she took up-stairs to read. The business-looking
+envelope she opened first; she read it once, twice,
+then gave an exclamation of delight. Oh, how
+pleased her father would be! Her manuscript
+had given such perfect satisfaction that, although
+written for pictures, the pictures would be discarded
+and new ones made to illustrate her story.
+Gus would congratulate her, and Miss Jewett; this
+appreciation by the publisher was the crown that
+the winter’s work would always wear for her. With
+a long breath, she sighed, “Oh, what a blessed winter
+this has been to me!”
+</p>
+<p>
+The long, white envelope was from Mrs. Towne,
+the chocolate from Sue, the cream-colored from Dinah,
+the pale blue from Miss Jewett, the pink from
+Nan Gerard, and the square white from Laura Harrison.
+Mr. Hammerton had not once written; a
+kind message through her father or Dinah was
+all evidence he had given of remembrance. Mrs.
+Towne’s letter was opened before the others. What
+would Dine or Miss Jewett or Laura think of this?
+The faint perfume was the lady herself, so real was
+her presence that Tessa felt her arms about her as
+she read.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Sue does not come to me as often as in the winter,”
+she wrote; “the Gesners, one and all, are proving
+themselves more alluring. Miss Gesner will
+be a good friend to her. If you could hear her
+laugh and talk, you would think of her as Sue
+Greyson and never as the widowed Mrs. Lake.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_383'></a>383</span>
+She is Dr. Lake’s widow, certainly she is not his
+wife. Ralph growls about it in his kind way, but
+I think that he did not expect any thing deeper
+from her. Nan Gerard was with me all day yesterday;
+she was as sweet and shy as a wild flower.
+Nan’s heart is awake. Am I a silly old woman?
+I dream of you every night. I would be a washer-woman
+and live in Gesner’s Row, if I might have
+you for my daughter, never to leave me. Now I
+<em>am</em> a silly old woman and I will go to bed.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The perfumed sheet was passed to the reader’s
+lips before the next envelope was torn open.
+</p>
+<p>
+Dinah’s letter was a sheet of foolscap; it was
+written as a diary.
+</p>
+<p>
+The first entry was merely an account of attending
+a concert with John; the second stated in a few
+strong words the failure of a bank. Old Mr. Hammerton
+had lost a large amount of money and had
+had a stroke of paralysis.
+</p>
+<p>
+The third contained the history of a call from Sue;
+how tall and elegant she looked in her rich mourning,
+and how she had talked about her courtship
+and marriage all the time.
+</p>
+<p>
+The fourth day their father had had an attack of
+pain, but it had not lasted as long as usual.
+</p>
+<p>
+The last page was filled in Dine’s eager, story-telling
+style:
+</p>
+<p>
+“Just to think, Tessa, now I know the end of
+my romance. It was dark last night just before
+tea, and I went into the front hall for something
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_384'></a>384</span>
+that I wanted to get out of the hat-stand drawer.
+The sitting-room door stood slightly ajar; I did not
+know that Gus was with father until I heard his
+voice. I did not listen, truly I did not; after I
+heard the first sentence I didn’t dare stir for fear
+of making my presence known. I moved off as
+easily and swiftly as I could, but I heard every
+word as plainly as if I had been in the room. It
+is queer that I should overhear the beginning and
+the ending of poor Gus’s only romance, isn’t it?
+I heard him say, ‘Every thing is changed in my
+plans; father is left with nothing but his good
+name, my mother is aged and feeble, my sister is
+a widow with a child; <em>her</em> money is gone, too. I
+am the sole support of four people. I could not
+marry, even if I desired to do so. And since I
+have definitely learned that she does not think of
+me, and never has thought of me, and that she
+thinks of some one else, the bachelor’s life will be
+no great hardship.’
+</p>
+<p>
+“I had got to the parlor door by that time, so,
+of course, I never can know father’s answer. But
+isn’t it dreadful? I suppose that he is over the disappointment,
+for his voice sounded as cool as usual;
+too cold, I thought. I should have liked him better
+if he had been in a flutter. I shall never tell
+any body but John. Poor old, wise old, dear old
+Gus! He will pursue the even tenor of his unmarried way,
+and no one will ever guess that he has
+had a romance. Perhaps Felix Harrison has had
+one, too. Perhaps every body has.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_385'></a>385</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+So it <em>was</em> Dinah, after all. And she had fought
+her long, hard fights all for nothing.
+</p>
+<p>
+It <em>was</em> Dine, and now her father would understand;
+he would not think her blind and stupid; he
+would not be disappointed that she had not chosen
+his choice!
+</p>
+<p>
+And that it was herself that Gus Hammerton
+had loved, the wife of John Woodstock always
+believed. And that it was herself, Tessa never
+knew; for not knowing that he had stood at the
+window that night that Dr. Towne had brought
+her home, and witnessed their parting at the gate,
+how could she divine that “definitely learned that
+she does not think of me,” had referred to her?
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Wadsworth had listened in utter bewilderment,
+recalling Tessa’s repeated declaration that it
+was Dinah. “I <em>am</em> in my dotage,” he thought;
+“for I certainly understood that he said Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“My wish was with your wish,” he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“She will be better satisfied,” Mr. Hammerton
+answered in his most abrupt tone. “He is
+a fine man; I can understand his attraction for
+her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth entered at that instant and the
+conversation was too fraught with pain to both
+ever to be resumed; therefore it fell out that Mr.
+Hammerton was the only one in the world who
+ever knew, beyond a perhaps, which of the sisters
+he had asked of the father.
+</p>
+<p>
+That Tessa had not been influenced by his importunate
+and mistaken urging, was one of the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_386'></a>386</span>
+things that her father was thankful for to the end
+of his days.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Poor Gus! The dear, brave boy,” sighed Tessa
+over her letter. “And my worry has only been to
+reveal to me that I can not reason myself into loving
+or not loving.”
+</p>
+<p>
+A paragraph in Nan Gerard’s letter was dwelt
+long upon; then the daintily written pink sheet
+dropped from her fingers and she sat bending forward
+looking into the glowing brands until the
+lights were out down-stairs and Hilda’s heavy
+step had passed her door.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, Naughty Nan!” she said rousing herself, “I
+hope that you love him very, very much. Better
+than I know how to do!”
+</p>
+<p>
+The paragraph ran in this fashion:
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have had a very pretty present; I really believe
+that I like it better than any thing that Robert
+ever gave me. It is a ring with an onyx: on
+the stone is engraved two letters in monogram.
+You shall guess them, my counsellor, and it will
+not be hard when I whisper that one of them is T.
+I am very happy and very good. ‘Nan’s Experiment’
+is burnt up and with it all my foolishness.
+‘Such as I wish it to be.’ I think of that whenever
+I look at my ring. Tell me all about your lovely
+Miss Sarepta. I like to know how I shall have
+to behave before her. We are to be married next
+month.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Did Nan know the hurt and the hurt and the
+hurt of love? No wonder that she was “shy” with
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_387'></a>387</span>
+Mrs. Towne. Why had not Mrs. Towne told her?
+Must she write and congratulate Naughty Nan
+whose story was such as she wished it to be?
+</p>
+<p>
+The letters that she had written that evening
+were on the bureau; the sudden remembering of
+the line that she had written in Mrs. Towne’s
+brought her to her feet with a rush of shame
+like the old hot flashes from head to foot; she
+seized the letter and rolling it up tucked it down
+among the coals; it blazed, burning slowly, the
+flame curled around the words that she had been
+saved just in time from sending; the words that
+would never be written or spoken.
+</p>
+<p>
+The room was chilly and the candle had burnt
+out before she went to bed; the lights opposite had
+long been out. The room was cold and dark and
+strange; outside in the darkness the night was wild.
+</p>
+<p>
+It was too late; her conflict had lasted too long;
+her pride and disdain had killed his love for her;
+perhaps he felt as she did in that time when she
+had wanted some one to love her, and he had taken
+Naughty Nan as she had taken Felix.
+</p>
+<p>
+She had lived it all through once; she could
+live it all through again; she could have slept, but
+would not for fear of the waking. Oh, if it would
+never come light, and she could lie forever shielded
+in darkness! But the light crept up higher and
+higher into the sky, Hilda passed the door, and
+Uncle Knox’s heavy tread was in the hall below.
+</p>
+<p>
+Another day had come, and other days would
+always be coming; every day life must be full of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_388'></a>388</span>
+work and play, even although Dr. Towne had
+failed in love that was patience; she had suffered
+once, because he was slow to understand himself,
+and plainly he had suffered to the verge of his
+endurance, because she was slow in understanding
+herself!
+</p>
+<p>
+The day wore on to twilight; she had worked
+listlessly; in the twilight she laid her work aside,
+and went over to the cottage.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have something to show you,” said Miss Sarepta;
+“guess what my last good gift from Philip
+is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I did not know that he had any thing left to
+give you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is the last and best. A flower of spring!”
+From a thick envelope in her work-basket, she
+drew out a photograph, and, with its face upward,
+laid it in Tessa’s hand.
+</p>
+<p>
+A piquant face: daring in the eyes, sweetness on
+the lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Nan Gerard!” cried Tessa, catching her breath
+with a sound like a sob.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Naughty Nan! And they are to be married
+here in this room, that I may be bridesmaid.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, how stupid I was!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why, had you an inkling of it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Several of them, if I had had eyes to see!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It came last night, and I lay awake all night,
+thinking of the woman that Philip will love henceforth
+better than he loves me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, how can you bear it?” Tessa knelt on the
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_389'></a>389</span>
+carpet at her side, with her head on the arm of the
+chair.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I could not, at first. I could not now, if I did
+not love Philip better than I love myself.”
+</p>
+<p>
+So her sorrow had become Miss Sarepta’s! She
+drew a long breath, and did not speak.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t feel so sorry for me, dear. I have known
+that in the nature of things,—which is but another
+name for God’s will,—this must come. Even after
+all the years, it has come suddenly. Will she love
+my brother?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am sure she will; more and more as the years
+go on!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Every heart must choose for itself,” said Miss
+Sarepta dreamily, “and the choice of the Lord
+runs through all our choices.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s lips gave a glad assent.
+</p>
+<p>
+A letter from Dinah that evening ended thus.
+“Father is not at all well; I think that he grows
+weaker every day. To-day he said, ‘Isn’t it <em>almost</em>
+time for Tessa to come?’”
+</p>
+<p>
+At noon the next day she was in Dunellen.
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_390'></a>390</span><a name='ch26' id='ch26'></a>XXVI.—ANOTHER MAY.</h2>
+<p>
+May came with blossoms, lilacs, and a birthday,
+she smiled all to herself over last year’s reverie; the
+anniversary of the day in which she had walked
+homewards with Mr. Hammerton and accepted Felix
+in the evening followed the birthday; a sad anniversary
+for Felix, she remembered, for he had her
+habit of retrospection.
+</p>
+<p>
+The days slipped through his mind, Laura had
+told her; he would often ask the day of the week
+or month. He had become quiet and melancholy,
+seemingly absorbed in the interest of the moment.
+He had greeted Tessa as he would have greeted
+any friend, at their last interview, and she had left
+him believing that his future would not be without
+happiness. A year ago to-day, Mr. Hammerton had
+said that a year made a difference, sometimes. And
+this year! How the events had hurried into each
+other, jostling against each other like good-humored
+people in a crowd! A year ago to-day she
+had thought of Nan Gerard as the wife of Ralph
+Towne; to-day she was sailing on the sea, Professor
+Towne’s wife; just as naughty as ever, but rather
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_391'></a>391</span>
+more dignified. A year ago to-night she had held
+herself the promised wife of her old tormentor, Felix
+Harrison; since that night all his future had become
+a blank, the strong man had become as a
+little child; since that day Dine had found her
+wonderful John; since that day Dr. Lake had had
+his heart’s desire, and had been called away from
+Sue, leaving her a widow; the hurrying year had
+taken from Gus a long hope and had given him a
+future of hard work with meagre wages. And Dr.
+Towne! But she could not trust herself to think
+of him. They met as usual, not less often; he had
+grown graver since last year, and had thrown himself
+heart and soul into his work: never demonstrative,
+his manner towards her, had, if possible, become
+less and less intrusive; but ever responsive,
+having nothing to respond to, now, but a gentle
+deference, a shyness that increased; a stranger
+would have said, meeting him with Tessa Wadsworth,
+that he was intensely interested in her, but
+exceedingly in doubt of finding favor.
+</p>
+<p>
+But Tessa could not see this; she felt only the
+restraint and chilliness.
+</p>
+<p>
+Once they were left suddenly alone together; he
+excused himself and abruptly left her; clearly, he
+had no reply to make to her letter; his love was
+worn out with her freaks and whims.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I deserve it,” she said, taking stern pleasure in
+meting out justice to herself.
+</p>
+<p>
+One afternoon in late May, she found herself on
+the gnarled seat that the roots had braided for
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_392'></a>392</span>
+her; she had been gazing down into the brook and
+watching a robin-redbreast taking his bath in it,
+canary-fashion; she watched him until he had flown
+away and perched upon a post of the Old Place
+meadow fence, then her eyes came back to the
+water, the stones, and the weeds.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I always know where to find you!” The exclamation
+could be in no other loud voice; she recognized
+Sue before she lifted her eyes to the tall,
+black-draped figure. If Sue had had a sorrow, there
+was no trace of it in voice or countenance.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Isn’t it dusty? How I shall look trailing around
+in all this black stuff! What do you always come
+here for? Do you come to meet somebody?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It seems that I have come to meet you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t you remember how you talked to me
+here that day? I did keep my promise; I <em>was</em>
+good to Gerald. Poor, dear Gerald! I have nothing
+to reproach myself with.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did mother send you here?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She said that I would find you between the end
+of the planks and Mayfield. Come through the
+grounds of Old Place with me. I want you to see
+Mrs. Towne’s flowers and a new arbor that Dr.
+Towne has been putting up.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, thank you,” said Tessa rising and tossing
+away a handful of withering wild flowers.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You don’t know how lovely the place is. Dr.
+Towne is always thinking of some new thing to do;
+I asked him if it were for that grand wife that he
+has been waiting so long for, and, do you believe, he
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_393'></a>393</span>
+said ‘Yes,’ as sincerely as could be. He looked up
+at his mother and smiled when he said it, too. I
+believe they know something. Nan Gerard didn’t
+get him any way! Won’t she have a lovely time
+travelling! I always did want to go to Europe;
+Gerald never would have taken me. I can’t believe
+that he’s dead, can you?”
+</p>
+<p>
+As Tessa was busy with her veil and did not
+speak, Sue rattled on.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Did you know that I’ve been making another
+visit at Miss Gesner’s? They call their place Blossom
+Hill, and it has been so sweet with blossoms.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is she as lovely as ever?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know,” said Sue, doubtfully; “sometimes
+I think that she is stiff and proud; the truth
+is she doesn’t like to have her old brother pay attention
+to me. She thinks that he is too old a boy
+for such nonsense; but <em>he</em> doesn’t think so! Good
+for me that he doesn’t. What are you walking so
+fast for? I went to drive with him every day after
+business hours; we <em>did</em> look stylish!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“With Miss Gesner, too?” queried Tessa, in a
+voice that she could not steady.
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, indeed,” laughed Sue, “and that’s the beauty
+of it. What did we want her along for? Of
+course we talked about Gerald; we talked a great
+deal about him. I told him how kind he had been
+to me and how I adored him and how I mourned
+for him. I am sure that I cried myself sick; Dr.
+Towne gave me something one night to keep me
+from having hysterics! I should have died of
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_394'></a>394</span>
+grief if Mrs. Towne hadn’t taken me to Old Place;
+she was like a mother, and <em>he</em> was as kind as kind
+could be! It was like the other time before I was
+engaged to Gerald; I couldn’t believe that it wasn’t
+that time. The Gesners were kind, too; I thought
+at first that Miss Gesner really loved me; but she
+began to be stiff after she saw her brother kiss me.
+I couldn’t help it; I told him that it was too soon
+for such goings on.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“O, <em>Sue!</em>” cried Tessa, wearily. “And he loved
+you so.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Gerald! Of course he did! But that’s all past
+and gone! He can’t expect me never to have any
+good times, can he? He didn’t leave me any money
+to have a good time with! I’m too young to shut
+myself up and think of his grave all the time. You
+and father are the most unreasonable people I ever
+saw! Why, he thinks because he thinks of mother
+every day, and wouldn’t be married for any thing,
+that I must be that kind of a mourner, too! It’s
+very hard; nobody ever had so much trouble as I
+do. I never used to like John Gesner, but you
+don’t know how interesting he can be. He took
+off my wedding ring one day and said it didn’t fit.
+It always was a little too large. Gerald said that
+I would grow into it,” she said, slipping it up and
+down on her finger and letting it drop on the grass.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There!” with a little laugh as she stooped to
+look for it, “suppose I could never find it. Is that
+what you call an omen, Tessa? Help me look!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“No, let it be. Let it be buried, too.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_395'></a>395</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“There! I have found it. You needn’t be so
+cross to me. I wonder why you are cross to me.
+Gerald Raid once that you would be a good friend
+to me forever.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will, Susie,” said Tessa, fervently.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You always liked Gerald. What did you like
+him for?” asked Sue, curiously.
+</p>
+<p>
+As the answer was not forthcoming, Sue started
+off on a new branch of the old topic. “Mr. John
+Gesner is going to Europe this fall, or in the winter;
+he is going on business, but he says that if he
+had a wife to go around with him that he would
+stay a year or two. Wouldn’t that be grand?
+Nan Gerard will have to be home when the Seminary
+opens, anyway. It would be grand to travel
+for two years.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why does not Miss Gesner go with him?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, she wouldn’t leave Lewis. Lewis and Blossom
+Hill are her two idols. Mr. John says that if
+he were married, he would build a new house right
+opposite, and he asked me as we passed the grand
+houses which style I liked best. There was one
+with porticoes and columns, I chose that. He said
+that it could be built while he was away, and be
+all ready for him to bring his bride home to. But
+you are not listening; you never think of what I
+am saying,” Sue said, in a grumbling, tearful voice.
+“My friends are forever misunderstanding me.
+Gerald never misunderstood me. What do you
+think Dr. Towne said to me? He said that when
+I am old, I shall love Gerald better than any one;
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_396'></a>396</span>
+that what comes between will fall out and leave
+that time. Won’t it be queer? He said that women
+ought to think love the best thing in the
+world. I cried while he was talking. I can love
+any body that is kind to me. When I told John
+Gesner that, he said, ‘I will always be kind to
+you.’ But you are not listening; I verily believe
+that you care more for that squirrel than you do
+for me!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“See it run,” cried Tessa. “Isn’t it a perfect little
+creature? If you will come and stay a week with
+me, we will take a walk every day.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t—now,” Sue stumbled over her words.
+“Say, Tessa, Mr. Gesner has given me a set of
+pearls. I can wear pearls in mourning, can’t I?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“With your mourning, you can wear any thing.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can I? I didn’t know it. It’s awful lonesome
+at home; lonesomer than it ever was.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would come and stay a week with you, but I
+do not like to leave father; he is not so strong as
+he was last summer.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You wouldn’t let Mr. Gesner come and spend
+the evening; I haven’t asked him, but I’m going
+to ask him the next time I see him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Dr. Greyson called for Sue late in the evening.
+“I have the comfort of my old age hard and fast,”
+he said; “she will never want to run away from
+me again, will you, Susie?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t know,” said Sue, with a hard, uncomfortable
+laugh; “you must keep a sharp lookout.
+I may be in Africa by this time next year.”
+</p>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_397'></a>397</span><a name='ch27' id='ch27'></a>XXVII.—SUNSET.</h2>
+<p>
+“Father is very feeble,” said Mrs. Wadsworth
+one day in June. “I shall persuade him to take
+a vacation. Lewis Gesner told him yesterday that
+he must take a rest; do you notice how he spends
+all his evenings on the sofa? I think that if Gus
+would come and play chess as he used to that it
+would rouse him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The week of Mr. Wadsworth’s vacation ran into
+two weeks and into a month; Dr. Greyson fell into
+a friendly habit of calling daily; Mr. Lewis Gesner
+and Mr. Hammerton came for a chat with him
+on the piazza as often as every other day, sometimes
+one of them would pass the evening beside
+his lounge in the sitting-room. Mr. Hammerton
+amused him by talk of people and books with a
+half hour of politics thrown in; and Mr. Gesner
+with his genial voice and genial manner helped
+them all to believe that life had its warm corners,
+and that an evening all together, with the feeble
+old man on the lounge an interested listener, was
+certainly one of the cosiest.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_398'></a>398</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Father, why have you kept Mr. Gesner to yourself
+all these years?” Tessa asked after one of these
+evenings.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I would have brought him home before, if I
+had known that you would have found him so
+charming.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He is my ideal of the shadow of a rock in a
+weary land,” she answered; “I do not wonder that
+his sister’s heart is bound up in him. How can
+brothers who live together be so different?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“John is well enough,” said her father, “there’s
+nothing wrong about him.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He makes me <em>creep</em>,” said Tessa, vehemently,
+thinking of a pair of bracelets that Sue had brought
+to show her that day.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Wadsworth lay silent for awhile, then opening
+his eyes gazed long at the figures and faces
+that were all his world; Mrs. Wadsworth’s chair
+was at the foot of the lounge, the light from the
+lamp on the table fell on her busy hands, leaving
+her face in shadow; Dinah was reading at the table,
+with one hand pushed in among her curls; Tessa
+had dipped her pen into the ink and was carelessly
+holding it between thumb and finger before writing
+the last page of her three sheets to Miss
+Sarepta.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh my three girls!” he murmured so low that
+no one heard.
+</p>
+<p>
+Mrs. Wadsworth, in these days, was forgetting
+to be sharp, and hovered over him and lingered
+around him as lovingly as ever Tessa did.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_399'></a>399</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Doctor,” said Tessa, standing on the piazza
+with Dr. Greyson late one evening, “do you think
+that he may die suddenly?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Any time, when the pain comes?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Any hour when the pain comes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Does mother know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that she half suspects; she has asked
+me, and I have evaded the question.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Does he know it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“He has known it since March.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Since he had wanted her to come home!
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps he has told mother.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She would only excite him and hasten the end.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“She can be quiet enough when she chooses. I
+am glad—oh, I am so glad—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is the doctor gone?” cried Dinah rushing out,
+“father wants him. He has the pain dreadfully.”
+</p>
+<p>
+The paroxysm was severe, but it passed away;
+Dr. Greyson decided to remain through the night;
+he fell asleep in the sitting-room and was awakened
+by Tessa’s hand an hour before dawn.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Thank you, dear,” said Mr. Wadsworth to his
+wife as she laid an extra quilt across his feet.
+</p>
+<p>
+They were his last words. Tessa always liked
+to think of them.
+</p>
+<p>
+July, August, and September dragged themselves
+through sunny days and rainy days into October.
+Tessa had learned that she could live without her
+father. There was little outward change in their
+home, the three were busy about their usual work
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_400'></a>400</span>
+and usual recreations; friends came and went; Tessa
+wrote and walked; gave two afternoons each week
+to Mrs. Towne, sometimes in Dunellen and sometimes
+at Old Place; ran in, as of old, for a helpful
+talk with Miss Jewett, not forgetting that she must
+be, what Dr. Lake had said,—a good friend to his
+wife. These were the busy hours; in the still hours,—but
+who can know for another the still hours?
+</p>
+<p>
+Mr. Hammerton and Mr. Lewis Gesner proved
+themselves to be invaluable friends; Tessa’s warm
+regard for Mr. Gesner, even with the shock that
+came to her afterward, never became less; he ever
+remained her ideal of the rock in the weary land.
+</p>
+<p>
+Two weeks after her father’s funeral, she had
+stood alone one evening towards dusk among her
+flowers: she had been gathering pansies and thinking
+that her father had always liked them and
+talked about them.
+</p>
+<p>
+There was a sound of wheels on the grass and a
+carriage stood at the opening in the shrubbery; the
+face into which she looked this time was not worn,
+or thin, or excited; a dark face, with grave, sympathetic
+eyes, was bending towards her.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wish that I could help you,” he said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know you do. No one can help me. I do
+not need help. I <em>am</em> helped.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“The air is sweet to-night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And so still! Do you like my pansies?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Will you take them to your mother, and tell
+her that I will come to-morrow.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_401'></a>401</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will tell her; but I will keep the pansies for
+myself, if you will give them to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She laid them in his hand with fingers that
+trembled.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do they say something to me?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“They say a great deal to me!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What do they say?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can not find a meaning for you. They must
+be their own interpreter.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“But I may think that you gave them to me to
+keep as long as I live.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes; to keep as long as you live.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“When you have something to say to me—something
+that you know I am waiting to hear—will
+you say it, freely, of your own accord.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes, freely, of my own accord.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I regret to trouble you; but if you ever waited,
+you know that it is the hardest of hard work.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I know,” said Tessa, her voice breaking; “but
+you may not like what I say.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps you will say what I like then.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I will if I <em>can</em>.”
+</p>
+<p>
+What had she to say, freely, of her own accord?
+I think that it was the knowledge of what she
+would say by and by when she was fully sure that
+helped her to bear the loneliness of this summer
+and autumn.
+</p>
+<p>
+And thus passed the summer that she had planned
+for rest. November found her making plans for winter.
+Her last winter’s work had been sent to her,
+one volume with its new illustrations, and the other,
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_402'></a>402</span>
+with but one new picture; her father had looked
+forward to them; she sent copies to Elsie, Mabel, and
+Sue, also to Felix Harrison and Mr. Hammerton;
+Miss Jewett and Mrs. Towne made pretty and
+loving speeches over theirs; Tessa wondered, why,
+when she had written them with all her heart, they
+should seem so little to her now.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Where is your novel, Lady Blue,” Mr. Hammerton,
+asked one evening.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that I shall live it first,” she answered,
+seriously. “I couldn’t love my ideal well enough
+to put him into a book, and the <em>real</em> hero would
+only be lovable and commonplace, and no one would
+care to read about him—no one would care for him
+but me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It must be something of an experience to learn
+that one’s ideal can not be loved, and rather humiliating
+to find one’s self in love with some one below
+one’s standard.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“That’s what life is for,—to have an experience,
+isn’t it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It seems to be some people’s experience,” he
+said, looking as wise as an owl, and as unsympathetic.
+</p>
+<p>
+November found Sue making plans, also. Her
+plans came out in this wise: she called one morning
+to talk to Tessa; Tessa was sewing in her own
+chamber, and Sue ran up lightly, as lightly as in
+the days before Gerald Lake had come to Dunellen.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Busy!” she said blithely, her flowing crape veil
+fluttering at the door.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_403'></a>403</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Not too busy. Come in.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue talked for an hour with her gloves on, then,
+carelessly, as she described some pretty thing that
+the Professor’s wife had brought from over the sea,
+she drew the glove from her left hand, watching
+Tessa’s face. The quick color—the quick, indignant
+color—repaid the manœuvre; the wedding
+ring—the new wedding ring—was gone, and in
+its stead blazed a cluster of diamonds.
+</p>
+<p>
+“You might as well say something,” began Sue,
+moving her hand in the sunlight.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have nothing to say. I wonder how you dare
+come to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Why shouldn’t I dare? I know it seems soon;
+but circumstances make a difference, and Mr. Gesner
+has to go to Europe next month. He took the
+other ring; I couldn’t help it—I wouldn’t have
+kept it safe with a lock of his hair in a little box—but
+he said that I shouldn’t have this unless I
+gave him that.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa’s head went down over her work; she had
+not wept aloud before since she was a little girl,
+but now the sobs burst through her lips uncontrolled.
+That ring that Dr. Lake had carried that
+day in the rain not fourteen months ago!
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue sprang to her feet, then dropped back into
+her chair and wept in sympathy, partly with a
+vague feeling of having done some dreadful thing,
+partly with the fear that life in a foreign land
+might not be wholly alluring; Mr. Gesner was
+kind, but poor Gerald had loved her so!
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_404'></a>404</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“O, Tessa! Tessa! don’t,” she cried. “Stop crying
+and speak to me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Go away from me. Go home. I will not speak
+to you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+For a moment Sue waited, then she arose and
+moved towards the door, standing another moment,
+but as Tessa did not turn or speak, she went
+down-stairs, not lightly, hushed by the revelation
+of a grief that she could not understand.
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<a name='i004' id='i004'></a>
+<img src="images/illus-404.jpg" alt="“Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another day,” said Sue." title=""/><br />
+<span class='caption'>“Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have<br/>our talk another day,” said Sue.</span>
+</div>
+<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_405'></a>405</span><a name='ch28' id='ch28'></a>XXVIII.—HEARTS ALIKE.</h2>
+<p>
+Early in December, in a snow-storm, Sue Lake
+was married to John Gesner.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Some things are incomprehensible,” declared
+Mrs. Wadsworth, plaintively, looking at the snow,
+“to think that she should marry an old beau of
+mine. So soon, too. How a widow can ever
+think—”
+</p>
+<p>
+Tessa refused to see her married until the last
+moment. “You must be a good friend to me
+through thick and thin,” Sue coaxed, and Tessa
+went the evening before; but the evening was
+long and silent, for Tessa could not talk or admire
+Sue’s outfit. The pretty brown and crimson chairs
+were again wheeled before the back parlor grate;
+but when Sue went out to attend for the last time
+to her father’s lunch, there was no hilarious entrance,
+and Tessa’s tears dropped because they
+would not be restrained.
+</p>
+<p>
+Sue’s talk and laughter sounded through the
+hall; but Tessa could hear only “Good-by, Mystic;
+you and I will have our talk another day.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_406'></a>406</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Kiss me and say you are glad,” prayed Sue,
+when they went up to Sue’s chamber to exchange
+white silk and orange blossoms for travelling attire.
+“It’s horrid for you to look like a funeral.
+Mrs. Towne looks glum, and Miss Gesner had to
+cry!”
+</p>
+<p>
+The snow-flakes were falling and melting, as they
+were falling and melting the day that Sue sang for
+Dr. Lake; there was a fire in the air-tight to-day,
+and by some chance the low rocker had been
+pushed close to the side of the white-draped bed.
+Sue seated herself in it to draw on her gloves and
+for a last hurried, hysteric flow of words.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’ll write to you from Liverpool, Tessa. I hope
+that we sha’n’t have any storms; I might think
+that it was a judgment. I don’t want to be drowned;
+I want to see London and Paris and Rome. Isn’t
+it queer for me to be married twice before you are
+married once!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“You may be married three times before I am
+married once,” said Tessa, opening a bureau drawer
+to lay away an old glove box.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Oh, no, I sha’n’t! I’ll stay a rich widow, but
+it was distressed to stay a poor one. Did I tell
+you that Stacey is married? I was so delighted.
+He’s got a good wife, too; real sober and settled
+down. So I didn’t do so much harm after all your
+fuming and fussing. I like to make people comfortable
+when I can. And now we’re happy all
+around just like a book. I wonder what will become
+of you before I get back. I expect that Dine
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_407'></a>407</span>
+will be married. John is as tickled as he can be!
+It’s lovely to be an old man’s darling; I am to have
+my own way about every thing. I’m glad that he
+wasn’t a widower; I hate widowers!”
+</p>
+<p>
+A tap at the door summoned Sue. “Good-by,
+dear old room!” she cried gayly. “You’ve seen
+the last of me. I hope that you will get every
+thing you are waiting for, Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+As once before on Sue’s wedding day, Tessa was
+taken home in Dr. Towne’s carriage.
+</p>
+<p>
+“I wonder if he knows,” she said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“If he do it can not trouble him. He understood
+her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I am beginning to understand what the hurt
+of love is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What is it?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Don’t you know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that you are teaching me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“It is a lesson that we have learned together.
+I used to wonder why God ever let us hurt each
+other; perhaps that is the reason, that we may learn
+together what love is!”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do not the students ever come to the end of
+the chapter and learn the next lesson?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I do not know what the next chapter is.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Perhaps if we study hard we may learn that
+together.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Great patience is needed to learn a lesson with
+me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I have a great deal of patience.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I’m afraid that I haven’t.”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_408'></a>408</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+“Having confessed our sins, suppose that we forget
+them.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I can’t forget mine.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Can you forget mine?”
+</p>
+<p>
+She tried to speak, but the words stumbled on
+her lips.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Look up and answer me.”
+</p>
+<p>
+She could not look up; she could not answer.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, say something.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Something,” she said childishly between laughter
+and tears.
+</p>
+<p>
+After a moment, during which her glove had
+been unbuttoned and rebuttoned and he had leaned
+back, holding the reins loosely, she spoke:
+</p>
+<p>
+“You <em>have</em> been patient with me. I will not
+have any more whims or fancies—I know now
+beyond any need of reasoning—”
+</p>
+<p>
+“What do you know?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Something very happy.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“And now shall we be as happy as Sue and her
+rich old lover?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Do you see this ring?” touching the emerald.
+“It means that I must tell your mother that I am
+satisfied, fully and entirely and thoroughly, before
+I say ‘Yes.’”
+</p>
+<p>
+“<em>Can</em> you tell her that?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Ask her and she will tell you.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Tessa, it has been a weary time.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I think that there must always be a weary time
+before two people understand each other; I am so
+glad to have ours come before—”
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_409'></a>409</span>
+</p>
+<p>
+The sun set behind clouds on Sue’s second wedding
+day. Tessa tried to write, she tried to read,
+she tried to sew, she tried to talk to her mother
+and Dine; but failed in every thing but sitting idle
+at one of the parlor windows and looking out at the
+snow. There was a long evening in the shabby parlor;
+quiet talk, laughing talk, and merry talk mingled
+with half sentences, as many things both old
+and new were talked about.
+</p>
+<p>
+There were several happenings after this; one of
+them, of course, was Dinah’s marriage to her wonderful
+John; Tessa’s wedding gift to her was a deed
+of the house in which they had both been born.
+Another happening, perhaps, as much in the nature
+of things as Dinah’s marriage, although the girls
+could not bring themselves to think so, was their
+mother’s marriage to Mr. Lewis Gesner. Tessa remembered
+her promise to her father; she spoke
+no word against it, and by repeated chidings kept
+Dinah’s words and behavior within the limits of
+deference.
+</p>
+<p>
+Pretty little Mrs. Wadsworth was a radiant bride,
+and the bridegroom was all that could be desired;
+Mrs. Wadsworth prudently concealed her elation at
+having married a man richer than Tessa’s husband
+and with a residence far handsomer. Mr. Lewis
+Gesner became the kindest of husbands and Miss
+Gesner was a model sister-in-law.
+</p>
+<p>
+On her own wedding day, one of Tessa’s grateful
+thoughts was that her father would rejoice to
+know that his “three girls” were in happy homes.
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_410'></a>410</span>
+Miss Jewett’s congratulation was a dower in itself:
+“Your fate was worth waiting for, Tessa.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Another poor man undone through you, Lady
+Blue,” said Mr. Hammerton. “I might have known
+that you were growing up to do it.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Is Tessa married?” Felix asked in his slow way.
+“I hope that he will take good care of her.”
+</p>
+<p>
+Another happening was the arrival of Mr. and
+Mrs. John Gesner and son. The baby had been
+born in Germany and could call his own name before
+he came home to Blossom Hill.
+</p>
+<p>
+The name was a surprise to Tessa: “Theodore,
+because it has such a pretty meaning,” Sue told
+her. “His father wanted John or Lewis, but I insisted;
+I said that I would throw the baby away
+if I couldn’t name him!”
+</p>
+<p>
+She petted him and was proud of his rosy face
+and bright eyes, but confided to Tessa that he was
+a great deal of trouble, and that she hated that
+everlasting “mamma, mamma.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I don’t understand <em>you</em>, Tessa, you treat your
+little girl as if she were a princess.”
+</p>
+<p>
+That afternoon Tessa and the baby were alone
+on one of the balconies at Old Place; baby in her
+betucked and beruffled white frock and white shoes
+was taking her first steps alone, and baby’s mother
+was kneeling before her with both arms out-stretched
+to receive her after the triumph.
+</p>
+<p>
+Baby’s father stood in a window watching them;
+but for the eyes that, just now, were like the woods
+in October his face would have been pronounced
+<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_411'></a>411</span>
+grave; the white threads in his hair were beginning
+to be noticeable, and before baby would be
+old enough to drive all around the country with
+him, his hair would be quite white.
+</p>
+<p>
+“An earnest man with a purpose in his life,”
+Dunellen said.
+</p>
+<p>
+“Must you go out again so soon?”
+</p>
+<p>
+Baby was crowing over her success, and the
+mother’s arms were holding her close.
+</p>
+<p>
+“There’s a poor woman with a little baby that
+I must see to-night.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“A girl-baby?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Yes,” smiling down at her, “a girl-baby.”
+</p>
+<p>
+“Poor little girl-baby! <em>Poor</em> little girl-baby!”
+she said, pressing her lips to baby’s hair.
+</p>
+<p>
+“What were you thinking when the baby ran
+into your arms just now?”
+</p>
+<p>
+“I was thinking,” holding the beruffled little figure
+closer, “that it isn’t such a hard world, after
+all, for little girls to grow up in.”
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline, by
+Jennie M. Drinkwater
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+Project Gutenberg's Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline, by Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+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: Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline
+ A Story of the Development of a Young Girl's Life
+
+Author: Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+Release Date: August 7, 2011 [EBook #37003]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TESSA WADSWORTH'S DISCIPLINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Katherine Ward, Roger Frank and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Nan drew Tessa's cheek down to her lips. (_Page 329_)]
+
+
+
+
+ Tessa Wadsworth's
+ Discipline
+
+ A Story of the Development of a Young Girl's Life
+
+ By Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
+ Author of "Growing Up," "Bek's First Corner,"
+ "Miss Prudence," etc., etc.
+
+ "The people that stood below
+ She knew but little about;
+ And this story's a moral, I know,
+ If you'll try to find it out."
+
+ A. L. Burt Company, Publishers
+ New York
+
+
+
+
+ Copyright 1879,
+ By Robert Carter & Brothers.
+
+
+
+
+ Dedication.
+
+ TO
+ MY FRIEND
+ Mary V. Childs.
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS
+
+ CHAPTER PAGE
+ 1. Hearts that Seemed to Differ 9
+ 2. The Silent Side 20
+ 3. The Last Night of the Old Year 31
+ 4. Somebody New 55
+ 5. Hearts that were Waiting 65
+ 6. Another Opportunity 81
+ 7. The Long Day 90
+ 8. A Note out of Tune 101
+ 9. The New Morning 140
+ 10. Forgetting the Bread 156
+ 11. On the Highway 162
+ 12. Good Enough to be True 178
+ 13. The Heart of Love 188
+ 14. Wheat, not Bread 211
+ 15. September 217
+ 16. A Tangle 244
+ 17. The Night Before 258
+ 18. Moods 280
+ 19. The Old Story 293
+ 20. Several Things 305
+ 21. Through 330
+ 22. Several Other Things 338
+ 23. What She Meant 362
+ 24. Shut in 367
+ 25. Blue Myrtle 377
+ 26. Another May 390
+ 27. Sunset 397
+ 28. Hearts Alike 405
+
+
+
+
+TESSA WADSWORTH'S DISCIPLINE.
+
+
+
+
+I.--HEARTS THAT SEEMED TO DIFFER.
+
+
+She was standing one afternoon on the broad piazza, leaning against the
+railing, with color enough in her usually colorless cheeks as she
+watched the tall figure passing through the low gateway; he turned
+towards the watching eyes, smiled, and touched his hat.
+
+"You will be in again this week," she said coaxingly, "you can give me
+ten minutes out of your busy-ness."
+
+"Twice ten, perhaps."
+
+The light that flashed into her eyes was her only reply; she stood
+leaning forward, playing with the oleander blossoms under her hand until
+he had seated himself in his carriage and driven away; not until the
+brown head and straw hat had disappeared behind the clump of willows at
+the corner did she stir or move her eyes, then the happy feet in the
+bronze slippers tripped up-stairs to her own chamber. Dinah had left her
+slate on a chair, and dropped her algebra on the carpet, at the sound of
+Norah's voice below the window.
+
+Tessa was glad to be alone; she was always glad to be alone after Ralph
+Towne had left her, to think over all that he had said, and to feel
+again the warm shining of his brown eyes; to thank God with a few, low,
+joyful exclamations that He had brought this friend into her life; and
+then, as foolish women will, she must look into her own face and try to
+see it as he saw it,--cheeks aglow, tremulous lips, and such a light in
+the blue eyes!
+
+She did not know that her eyes could look like that. She had thought
+them pale, cold, meaningless, and now they were like no eyes that she
+had ever looked into; a dancing, tender, blue delight.
+
+Had he read her secret in them?
+
+Her enthusiasm with its newness, sweetness, and freshness,--for it was as
+fresh as her heart was pure,--was moulding all her thoughts,
+strengthening her desire to become in all things true and womanly, and
+making her as blithe all day long as the birds that twittered in the
+apple-tree near her chamber window.
+
+It mattered not how her hands were busied so long as her heart could be
+full of him. And he, Ralph Towne, blind and obtuse as any man would be
+who lived among books and not in the world at all, and more than a
+trifle selfish, as men sometimes find themselves to be, little thinking
+of the effect of his chance visits and fitful attentions, had in the
+last two months come to a knowledge that grieved him; for he was an
+honorable man, he loved God and reverenced womankind. He had not time
+now to think of any thing but the book for which he was collecting
+material. It was something in the natural history line, he had once told
+her, but he never cared to speak of it; indeed Ralph Towne cared to talk
+but of few things; but she loved to talk and he loved to listen. He
+loved to listen to her, but he did not love her (so he assured himself),
+he only loved her presence, as he loved the sunshine, and he did not
+love the sunshine well enough to fret when the day was gloomy; in these
+days he did not love any body or any thing but himself, his books, and
+his mother.
+
+Dunellen said that he was proud of his money and proud of a
+great-great-grandmother who had been cousin to one of the president's
+wives; but Tessa knew that he was not proud of any thing but his
+beautiful white-haired mother.
+
+Not understanding the signs of love, how could he know that Tessa
+Wadsworth was growing to love _him_; he had never thought of himself as
+particularly worth loving. Surely she knew a dozen men who were
+handsomer (if that were what she cared for), and another dozen who could
+talk and tell stories and say pretty things to women (if _that_ were
+what attracted her); still he knew to-day that his presence and light
+talk (he did not remember that he had said any thing to be treasured)
+had moved her beyond her wont. She was usually only self-contained and
+dignified; but to-day there must have been some adequate cause for her
+changing color, for the lighting and deepening of her eyes as they met
+his so frankly; he was sure to-day of what he had only surmised
+before,--that this sensitive, high-spirited, pure-hearted woman loved him
+as it had never entered his preoccupied mind or selfish heart to love
+her or indeed any human being.
+
+"I have been a fool!" he ejaculated. "Well, it is done, and, with a
+woman like her, it can not be undone! Miserable bungler that I am, I
+have been trying to make matters better, and I have made them a thousand
+times worse! Why did I promise to call again this week? Why did I give
+her a right to ask me? I wish that I had _never_ seen her! God
+knows,"--she would never have forgotten his eyes could she have seen them
+at this instant, penitent and self-reproachful,--"that I did not _mean_
+to trifle with her."
+
+Meanwhile, resting in Dinah's chair, with the algebra and slate at her
+feet, she was thinking over and over the words he had spoken that
+afternoon; very few they were, but simple and sincere; at least so they
+sounded to her. She smiled as "I _do_ care very much" repeated itself to
+her, with the tone and the raising of the eyes.
+
+"Very much!" as much as she did? It was about a trifle, some little
+thing that she had put into rhyme for him; how many rhymes she had
+written for him this summer! He so often said, "Write this up for me,"
+and she had so intensely enjoyed the doing it, and so intensely enjoyed
+his appreciation--his over-appreciation, she always thought.
+
+O, Tessa, Tessa, pick up that algebra, and go to work with it. Life's
+problems are too complex for your unworldliness.
+
+She stooped to pick up Dinah's slate, and, instead of finishing the work
+upon it, she wrote out rapidly a thought that had tinged her cheeks
+while Ralph Towne had been with her. _The silent side_ she called it.
+Was it the silent side? If it were, how was it that he understood? She
+_knew_ that he understood; she knew that he had understood when he
+answered, "Twice ten, perhaps."
+
+Her mother's voice below broke in upon her reverie; fancy, sentiment, or
+delicate feeling of any kind died a hard and sudden death under Mrs.
+Wadsworth's influence, yet she read more novels than did either of her
+daughters, and would cry her lovely eyes red and swollen over a story
+that Tessa would not deign to skip through. It was one of her mother's
+plaints that Tessa had no feeling.
+
+Ralph Towne did not give the promised "twice ten" minutes that week, nor
+for weeks afterward; she met him several times driving with his mother,
+or with his mother and Sue Greyson: her glad, quick look of recognition
+was acknowledged by a lifting of the hat and a "good afternoon, Miss
+Tessa." Once she met him alone with Sue Greyson. Sue's saucy,
+self-congratulatory toss of the head stung her so that she could have
+cried out. "I am ashamed"--no, I am not ashamed to tell you that she
+cried herself to sleep that night, as she asked God to bless Ralph Towne
+and make him happy and good. She could not have loved Ralph Towne if she
+might not have prayed for him. Her mother would have been inexpressibly
+shocked at such a mixture of "love and religion."
+
+"How long have you loved Christ?" asked the minister, when Tessa was
+"examined" for admission to the church.
+
+"Ever since I have known Him," was the timid reply.
+
+And Ralph Towne, in these miserable days, for he _was_ miserable, as
+miserable in his fashion as she was in hers, was blaming her and
+excusing himself. What _had_ he ever said to her? Was every one of a
+man's words to be counted? There was Sue Greyson, why didn't she turn
+sentimental about him? True, he had said one day when they were talking
+about friendship--what had he said that day? Was she remembering that? If
+she had studied his words--but of course, she had forgotten! What had
+possessed him to say such things? But how could he look at her and not
+feel impelled to say something warm? It could not be his fault; it must
+be hers, for leading him on and for remembering every trivial word. And
+of that she was equally sure, for how could he do any man or any woman
+wrong, this sincere and honorable Christian gentleman?
+
+In her imagination there was no one in a book or out of a book like
+Ralph Towne. Gus Hammerton was a scholar and a gentleman, but she had
+known him all her life; Felix Harrison was gracious and good, but he was
+not like Ralph Towne. Ralph Towne was not her ideal, he was something
+infinitely better than she could think; how beautiful it was to find
+some one nobler and grander than her ideal! Far away in some wonderful,
+unknown region he had grown up and had been made ready for her, and now
+he had come to meet her; bewildered and grateful, she had loved him and
+believed in him--almost as if that unknown region were heaven.
+
+It was her wildest dream come true; that is, it had come true, until
+lately. Some strange thing was happening; it was happening and almost
+breaking her heart.
+
+"Tessa, you look horrid nowadays," exclaimed Dinah, one afternoon, as
+Tessa came up on the piazza, returning from her usual walk. "You are
+white, and purple, and all colors, and you never sing about the house or
+talk to me or to any body. You actually ran away while Mrs. Bird was
+over here yesterday, and you don't even go to see Miss Jewett! She asked
+me yesterday if you had gone away. When Laura was talking to you
+yesterday, you looked as if you did not hear one word she said."
+
+"I was listening."
+
+"And you used to have such fun talking to Gus; I believe that you went
+up-stairs while he was here last night."
+
+"I had a headache; I excused myself."
+
+"You always go down the road. Why don't you go through Dunellen?"
+
+"I want to get into the country; I never walk through a street simply
+for the pleasure of it. I like to be alone."
+
+"Do you ever walk as far as Old Place?"
+
+"That isn't far, only three miles; sometimes I go to Mayfield, that is a
+mile beyond Old Place."
+
+"Isn't Old Place splendid? Next to Mr. Gesner's it is the handsomest
+place around."
+
+"It is more home-like than Mr. Gesner's."
+
+"Sue likes Mr. Gesner's better. I told her that I would take Old Place
+and she could have Mr. Gesner's. Mr. Gesner's is stone; Old Place is all
+wood. Do you ever see any of the Townes?"
+
+"There are not many to be seen."
+
+"Counting Sue, there are three. Sue thinks that she is stylish, driving
+around with Mrs. Towne. She stayed a week with Miss Gesner once, too.
+Why don't you and I get invited around to such places? Mrs. Towne ought
+to invite you. Mr. Towne used to come here often enough."
+
+"Used to come!" Tessa shivered standing in the sunlight. "Yes, it was
+'used to come,'" she was thinking. "I have been dreaming, now I am
+awake. I wish that I had died while I was dreaming."
+
+"Now you look pale again! I guess you are growing up," laughed
+unconscious Dinah; "it's hateful and horrid to grow up; I never shall.
+Remember that I am always to be fifteen."
+
+"I hope that you never will grow up," said Tessa, earnestly, "every
+thing is just as bad as you can dream."
+
+"Mr. Towne has given Sue coral ear-rings," Dinah ran on. Tessa had gone
+down to her flower-bed to pull a few weeds that had pushed themselves in
+among her pansies. "He gave his mother several groups in stone for the
+dining-room; they are all funny, Sue says. In one, some children are
+playing doctor; in another, they are playing school. He gave his cousin
+a silk dress, and he bought himself a set of books for his birthday; he
+was thirty-two. Did you think he was so old?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I say, Tessa, Sue thinks that she is going to marry him."
+
+"Does she?" The voice was away down in the flowers.
+
+"You are always among those flowers. Don't you wish that we had a
+conservatory? They have a grand one at Old Place. I wonder why they have
+so little company."
+
+"Mrs. Towne is feeble; she likes a quiet house."
+
+"Yes, Sue says that. But Grace Geer, his cousin, is there! Mrs. Towne is
+to give Old Place and all its treasures to Mr. Towne upon his
+wedding-day; she wants a daughter more than any thing, Sue says. I wish
+she would take me. Sue thinks that she will take _her_. Every other word
+that she speaks is 'Mr. Ralph.' She talks about him everywhere. Do _you_
+believe it?"
+
+"Believe what?"
+
+Tessa had returned to the piazza with a bunch of pansies.
+
+"Believe that she will marry him! She has real pretty manners when she
+is with them, and really tries not to talk slang. But I don't believe
+it. He treats her as he would treat any one else; I have seen them
+together."
+
+"Perhaps she will. People say so," said Tessa.
+
+Poor motherless, sisterless Sue! Was she making a disappointment for
+herself out of nothing? Or was it out of a something like hers?
+
+It was certainly true that Sue Greyson had taken a summer tour with Mrs.
+Towne and Mr. Ralph Towne, and that she had spent more of her time
+during the last year at Old Place than in her own small, unlovely home.
+She loved her father "well enough," she would have told you; but after
+the months at Old Place, she found the cottage in Dunellen a stale and
+prosaic affair; her father had old Aunt Jane to keep house for him, why
+did he need her? He would have to do without her some day. Doctor Lake
+was great fun, why could he not be interested in him?
+
+"He is a stranger, not my only daughter," her father had once replied.
+
+"Your father will be glad enough and proud enough that he let you come
+to Old Place," comforted Grace Geer, when Sue told her that he missed
+her at home. "Ralph Towne's wife will be a happy woman for more reasons
+than one; and he is interested in you, as one can see at a glance. He
+told his mother to-day that he should always be glad that they had come
+to Old Place."
+
+
+
+
+II.--THE SILENT SIDE.
+
+
+It was nearly six weeks after the day that she had watched him as far as
+the clump of willows that he came again. Sue Greyson had driven him into
+Dunellen that morning and had stopped at the gate on her return to tell
+her about her "grand splendid, delightful times" at Old Place.
+
+"Cousin Grace has gone away; how we miss her music! Mr. Ralph did not
+care for it, but Mrs. Towne and I cared. Mrs. Towne says that I ought to
+have a music teacher; but I never did practice when I had one. I can't
+apply my mind to any thing; Mr. Ralph says that I learn by observation.
+I wonder why wise men choose silly wives always," she added consciously,
+playing with the reins.
+
+"Do they?" asked Tessa, picking a lilac leaf from the shrubbery.
+
+[Illustration: "Is not this what we usually call the Indian summer?"
+said Tessa, as she extended her hand.]
+
+"Cousin Grace says so. I wish I knew what ails Mr. Ralph. His mother
+says that he is having a worry; she always knows when he is having a
+worry by his eyes; they do look very melancholy, and last night I
+overheard him say to Mrs. Towne, 'A man has to keep his eyes pretty wide
+open not to step on peoples' toes.' I didn't think much of that, but he
+said afterward, 'A man may do in an hour what he can't _undo_ in a
+lifetime.' He never talks much, so I know that something is on his mind,
+or he would not have talked so long. She said that he must be patient
+and do right."
+
+"Why, Sue, you did not listen!"
+
+"Of course not. They were in the library, and I was on the balcony
+outside the window. I heard his voice--he was walking up and down, and, I
+confess, I _did_ want to know what it was all about! I thought that it
+might be about me, you know. But I can't stay here all day; Mrs. Towne
+is to take me to spend the day with the Gesners. It is splendid there.
+Mr. John Gesner I don't like, but Mr. Lewis Gesner treats me so
+respectfully and talks to me as if he liked to hear me talk. And Miss
+Gesner is loveliness personified! Mr. Towne said that he had a call to
+make this afternoon, and would walk home. He will be up in the four
+o'clock train."
+
+"A call to make!"
+
+The words were in her ears all day; she dressed for her walk, then
+concluded to stay at home. How could he undo what he had so
+thoughtlessly, so mercilessly, done? Would he come and talk to her as he
+had talked to his mother? Would he say, "I am sorry that you have
+misinterpreted my words?" Misinterpreted! Did they not both speak
+English? Sincere, straightforward, frank English? It was the only
+language that she knew. In what tongue had he spoken to her?
+
+Her fluttering reverie was brought to a sudden and giddy end; the sound
+of a firm tread on the dried leaves under the maple-trees outside the
+gate, a tall figure in plain, elegant black,--the startled color in her
+eyes told the rest; she sprang to her feet, dropped her long, white
+work, shook off all outward nervousness, brushed her hair, fastened a
+bow of blue ribbon down low on her braids, questioned her eyes and lips
+to ascertain if they were _safe_, and then passed down the stair-way
+with a light, sure tread, and stood on the piazza to welcome Ralph
+Towne; her own composed, womanly self, rather more self-repressed than
+usual, and with a slight stateliness that she had never assumed with
+him. But he only noted that she appeared well and radiant; he understood
+her no more--than he understood several other things. Ralph Towne had
+been called "slow" from his babyhood.
+
+"Is not this what we usually call the Indian summer? We have not had
+frost yet, I think," she said easily.
+
+His dark face crimsoned, he answered briefly, and dropped her hand.
+
+If he had ever prided himself upon his tact, he was aware that to-day it
+would be a most miserable failure. How could he say, "You have
+misunderstood me," when perhaps it was he who had misunderstood her? He
+had come to her to-day by sheer force of will, not daring to stay away
+longer--and what had he come for? To assure her--perhaps he did not intend
+to assure her any thing; perhaps it was not necessary to assure her any
+thing. Not very long ago he _had_ assured her that he could become to
+her her "ideal of a friend," if she would "show" him how. Poor Tessa!
+This showing him how was weary work. "Yes," he replied, wheeling a chair
+nearer the open window, "the country is beautiful."
+
+That look about her flexible lips was telling its own story; she was
+just the woman, he reasoned, to break her heart about such a fellow as
+he was.
+
+"I have very little time for any thing outside my work," he said,
+running on with his mental comments. All a man had to do to make himself
+a hero was to let a woman like this fall in love with him.
+
+"What have _you_ been doing?" he asked in his tone of sincere interest.
+
+"All my own doings," she said lightly. "Mr. Hammerton and I have been
+writing a criticism upon a novel and comparing notes, and I have sewed,
+as all ladies do, and walked."
+
+"You are an English girl about walking."
+
+"I know every step of the way between Dunellen and Mayfield. Do _you_
+walk?"
+
+"No, I drive. My life has a lack. My book is falling through. I do not
+find much in life."
+
+"Our best things are nearest to us, close about our feet," she answered.
+
+He did not reply. Ralph Towne never replied unless he chose.
+
+He opened his watch; he had been with her exactly ten minutes.
+
+"I have an engagement at six," he said.
+
+The flexible lips stiffened. "Do not let me detain you."
+
+He was regarding her with a smile in his eyes that she could not
+interpret; her graceful head was thrown back against the mass of fluffy
+white upon the chair, the white softening the outlines of a face that
+surely needed not softening; the clear, unshrinking eyes meeting his
+with all her truth in them; the blue ribbon at her throat, the gray
+cashmere falling around her, touched him with a sense of fitness; the
+slight hands clasping each other in her lap, slight even with their
+strength, partly annoyed, partly baffled him. Mr. Hammerton had told her
+that she had wilful hands.
+
+Regarding Tessa Wadsworth as regarding some other things, Ralph Towne
+thought because he felt; he could not think any further than he thought
+to-day, because he had not felt any further.
+
+There was another friend in her life who with Tessa Wadsworth as with
+some other things felt because he thought, and he could not feel any
+further than he felt to-day because he had not thought any further.
+
+For the first time since she had known Ralph Towne, she was wishing that
+he were like Gus Hammerton. It had never occurred to her before to wish
+that he would change.
+
+Each smiled under the survey. He was thinking, "I wish I loved you." She
+was thinking, "You are a dear, big boy; I wish you were more manly."
+
+"You did not send me the poem you promised."
+
+"You said you would come soon."
+
+"Did you expect me?"
+
+"Had I any reason to doubt your word?"
+
+"You must not take literally all I say," he answered with irritation.
+
+"I have learned that. I have studied the world's arithmetic, but I do
+not use it to solve any word of yours, any more than I have supposed
+that you would use it to find the meaning of any problem you might
+discover in my attitude towards you."
+
+"It is best not to dig and delve for a meaning, Miss Tessa; society
+sanctions many phrases that you would not speak in sincerity."
+
+"Society!" she repeated in a tone that brought the color to his
+forehead. "Is society my law-giver?"
+
+It was very pleasant to be loved by a woman like this woman; he could
+not understand her, but she touched him like the perfume of the white
+rose, or the note of the thrush. His next words were sincere and abrupt.
+"You asked me some time since to burn the package of poems you have
+written for me. If I had done as much for you, would you destroy them?"
+
+A flush, a dropping of the eyes, and a low laugh answered him.
+
+He arose quickly, with a motion of tossing off an ugly sensation. "I am
+very much engaged; I do not know when I can come again. We are going
+west for the winter."
+
+She could not lift her eyes, or speak, or catch her breath. She arose,
+slowly, as if the movement were almost too great an effort, and stood
+leaning against the tall chair, her fingers fumbling with the fringe of
+the tidy; the room had become so darkened that the white fringe was but
+a dark outline of something that she could feel.
+
+"Sue Greyson is to accompany my mother; I shall be much away, and I do
+not like to leave her with strangers."
+
+"Sue is pleasant and lively." She had spoken, and now she could, not
+quite clearly yet, but a glance revealed the blood surging to his
+forehead, the veins swollen in his temples, even through the heavy
+mustache she discerned the twitching of his lips. The pain in her heart
+had opened her eyes wide. Had he come to make the parting final? What
+had she done that he should thus thrust her away outside of all the
+interests in his life? Did he know how she cared, and was he so sorry?
+Was he trying to be "patient," as his mother had advised--patient with
+her for taking him at his word?
+
+Dunellen had called her proud; this instant she was as humble as a
+child.
+
+Slowly and sorrowfully she said, "Come again--some time."
+
+"Yes," he said, as slowly and as sorrowfully, "I will."
+
+He was very sorry for this woman who had been so foolish as to think
+that his words had meant so much.
+
+She had closed the street door and was on the first step of the stairs
+when her mother called to her from the sitting-room.
+
+"What did Sir Dignified Undemonstrative have to say for himself?"
+
+"He does not talk about himself."
+
+"It is your turn to get tea! It is Bridget's afternoon out."
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth was a little lady something less than five feet in
+height, as slight as a girl of twelve, and prettier than either of her
+daughters; with brown hair, brown eyes, and the sprightliest manner
+possible.
+
+"Young enough to be Tessa's sister," Dunellen declared.
+
+But she was neither sister nor mother as her elder daughter defined the
+words.
+
+"If you get him, Tessa, you'll get a catch," remarked Mrs. Wadsworth
+watching the effect of her words.
+
+The first sound of her mother's voice had brought her to herself, her
+self-contained, cautious and, oftentimes, sarcastic self.
+
+"Have you any order about tea?"
+
+Her studied respect toward her mother, was pitiful sometimes. It was
+hard that she could not attain somewhat of her ideal of daughterhood.
+
+"No, but I want you to do an errand for me after tea. I forgot to ask
+Dine to do it on her way from school."
+
+"Very well," she assented obediently.
+
+She stumbled on the basement stairs, and found the kitchen so dark that
+she groped her way to a chair and sank into it, dropping her head on the
+table. She could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing--the whole earth
+was empty!
+
+Where was God? Had He gone, too?
+
+Through the open windows floated the sound of girls' voices, as Norah
+and Dinah chatted and laughed in the garden. But the sound was far off;
+the engine whistled and screamed, but the sound was not in her world;
+carriages rolled past, the front gate swung to, her father's step was on
+the piazza over her head, and he was calling, her dear old father,
+"Where are you all, my three girls?"
+
+His fulfilled hope was bitterer than all her disappointments ever could
+be.
+
+"I don't wonder," she said with a sob in her throat, as she arose and
+pushed her hair back, "I don't wonder that he can not love me; but oh, I
+wish that he had not told me a lie!"
+
+October passed; the days hurried into November; there was no more
+leaf-hunting for her, no more long walks down the beautiful country
+road, no more tripping up and down stairs with a song or a hymn on her
+lips, no more of life, she would have said, for every thing seemed like
+death. She did not die with shame, as at first she was sure that she
+would do; she could not run away to the far end of the earth where she
+would never again see his face; where every face would be a new face,
+where no voice would speak his name; she could not dig a hole in the
+earth and creep into it; she could not lie down at night and shut her
+tired eyes, with both hands under her cheek, as she always fell asleep,
+and never awake again, as she would love best of all to do; she could
+cry out, but she could not hear the answer, "Oh, please tell me when I
+_meant_ to be so good, why it had to be so hard."
+
+No; she had to live in a world where people would laugh at her if they
+only knew; how she would shiver and freeze if her mother should once
+begin to harp upon the sudden break. She could not bemoan herself all
+the time; she was compelled to live because she had been born, and she
+was compelled to thrive and grow cheery; there were even moments when
+she forgot to be ashamed, for her mother's winter cough set in with the
+cold winds, and beside being nurse, she was in reality the head of the
+small household. Dinah was preparing to be graduated in the summer and
+was no help at all; instead, an hour or two every evening Tessa was
+asked to study with her, for she did not love study and was not quick
+like her sister.
+
+And then she had her own special work to do, for she was a scribbler in
+prose and rhyme; the half dozen weeklies that came to the house
+contained more than once or twice during the year sprightly or pathetic
+articles under the initials T. L. W.
+
+But few knew of this her "literary streak," as her mother styled it, for
+she dreaded any publicity.
+
+Miss Jewett, her father, and Mr. Hammerton were her sole encouragers and
+advisers; Mr. Towne was not aware that she dipped her pen in ink for any
+one's pleasure but his own. Beside this work there were friends to
+entertain, half the girldom in Dunellen were her friends or had been at
+some time.
+
+Ralph Towne often wondered how she was "taking" it; he could have found
+no sign of it in her face or in her life. Her father feared that she was
+being overworked. Mr. Hammerton's short-sighted eyes noticed a shadow
+flit across her eyes, sometimes, when she was talking to him, and said
+to himself, "I see her often; I see a change that is not a change; there
+is something happening that no one knows."
+
+
+
+
+III.--THE LAST NIGHT OF THE OLD YEAR.
+
+
+All her life she had longed for personal beauty; she loved every
+beautiful thing and she wanted to love her own face. It was Ralph
+Towne's perfect face that had drawn her to him, his voice, and his eyes,
+like the woods in October.
+
+She had studied her face times enough by lamplight and sunlight to know
+it thoroughly, but she could not discover the sweetness that Miss Jewett
+saw, or the intelligence that delighted her father; she could find
+without much searching the freckles on her nose, the shortness of her
+upper lip, the two slight marks that infantile chicken-pox had dented
+into her forehead, the upward tendency of her nose, and the dimple that
+was only half a dimple in her chin.
+
+She was as pretty and as homely as any of the fair, blue-eyed girls in
+Dunellen or elsewhere: with lips that shaped themselves with every
+passing feeling; with eyes that could grow so bright and dark that one
+could forget how bright they were; with the palest of chestnut hair,
+worn high or low, as the little world of Dunellen demanded; with hands
+slight and characteristic; a figure neither tall nor slender, but
+perfectly proportioned, rounded and graceful; arrayed as neatly and
+becomingly as she could be on her limited allowance, usually in plain
+colors, often in black of a soft texture with a ribbon of some pale tint
+at her throat and among her braids. A stranger might have taken her for
+any one of the twenty-three girls in Miss Jewett's Bible class; that is
+any one of the blue-eyed ones who wore gray vails and gray walking
+suits.
+
+But you and I know better.
+
+With her self-depreciation she was one thing that she was not likely to
+guess--the prettiest talker in the world.
+
+Felix Harrison had told Miss Jewett so years ago.
+
+"I haven't any accomplishments," she often sighed.
+
+"You do not need any," Mr. Hammerton had once said.
+
+One morning in December she chanced upon a bundle of old letters in one
+of Dinah's drawers, they were written during the winter that she had
+spent in the city two years ago.
+
+She drew one from its envelope; it was dated December 22, just two years
+ago to-day; she ran through it eagerly. How often she had remembered
+that day as an era; the beginning of the best things in her uneventful
+life! The second perusal was more slow. "I have seen somebody new; he is
+a friend of Aunt Dinah's, or his mother is, or was. Don't you remember
+that handsome house near Mayfield, just above Laura's? When they were
+building it, Laura and I used to speculate as to whom it belonged, and
+wonder if it would make any difference to us. She said she would marry
+the son (for of course there would be a handsome and learned son) and
+that I should come to live with her forever; and Felix said that he
+would buy it for me, some day; you and I used to play that we owned it
+but that we preferred to live nearer Dunellen and had left it in charge
+of our housekeeper! How often when the former owner was in Europe, I
+have stood outside the gates and peered in and planned how happy we
+would all be there. Father should rest and read, and enjoy all the
+beautiful walks and the woods and the streams in the meadow with the
+rustic bridge, and mother should have a coach and four, and you and Gus
+and I would have it all.
+
+"All this preamble is to introduce the fact that the somebody new is the
+owner of Old Place. Isn't that an odd name? I don't like it; I should
+call it Maplewood; in the autumn it is nothing but one glory of maple.
+His mother named it and they have become accustomed to its queerness.
+His mother is wintering with a relative, an invalid, I believe; I think
+that she has taken the invalid to Florida and the son (the father died
+long ago) has come to spend the winter in the city. They say he is wise
+and learned (I do not see any evidence of it, however), but he certainly
+is a veritable Tawwo Chikwo, the beauty of the world. Get out my old
+Lavengro and read about him.
+
+"He is almost as dark as a gypsy, too, his eyes are the brownest and
+sunniest. I never saw such eyes (a sunbeam was lost one day and crept
+into his eyes for a home), his hair, beard, and mustache are as brown as
+his eyes; as brown, but not at all bright.
+
+"He looks like a big boy, but Aunt Dinah says that he is in the
+neighborhood of thirty; his life has left no trace in his face, or
+perhaps all that brown hair covers the traces of discipline. His manner
+is gentleness and dignity united. But he can't talk. Or perhaps he
+won't.
+
+"His replies (he ventures nothing else) are simple, good, kind, and
+above all, _sincere_. I have a feeling that I shall believe every word
+he says. That is something new for me, too. He doesn't think much of me.
+He likes to hear me talk though; I have made several bright remarks for
+the pleasure of the sunbeam in his eyes.
+
+"If I were his mother I should be sorry to do or say any thing to
+frighten it away.
+
+"I know that he has never been in love; he could not be such a dear,
+grave, humorous, gentle, dignified, stupid big boy if some girl had
+shaken him up.
+
+"If he were the talker that Gus Hammerton is, I should go into raptures
+over him. He is a doctor, too, but he has not begun practice; he has
+been travelling with his mother. Is it not lovely to be rich enough to
+do just what you like?
+
+"Tell Gus that I will answer his letter sometime; you may let him read
+this if you like."
+
+This letter she tore into atoms; she glanced over the others to find
+Ralph Towne's name; not once did she find it.
+
+"I will do something to commemorate this anniversary," she thought. "I
+will drop his photograph into the fire, and tear the fly-leaf out of the
+Mrs. Browning he gave me."
+
+Her name and his initials were all that was written in the book; very
+carefully she cut out the entire page.
+
+"Why, child! have you seen a ghost?" her mother exclaimed, meeting her
+in the hall.
+
+"Yes, but it was only a ghost; there was nothing real about it."
+
+That afternoon, having some sewing to do for her father, she betook
+herself to the chilliness of the parlor grate; her mother was in a
+fault-find frame of mind and Tessa's nerves were ready to be set on edge
+at the least provocation.
+
+That parlor! She would have wept over its shabbiness had she ever been
+able to find tears for such purposes. Wheeling an arm-chair near enough
+to the grate to be made comfortable by all the heat there was, she
+placed her feet on the fender and folded her hands over the work in her
+lap. It was a raw day, the sky over Mr. Bird's house was unsympathetic,
+the bare branches in the apple orchard stretched out in all directions
+stiff and dry as if they were never to become green again; the outlook
+was not cheering, the inlook was little more so; but how could she wish
+for any thing more than her father was able to give his three dear
+girls!
+
+This room had seemed pretty to her in the summer when the windows were
+open and she could have flowers everywhere; Ralph Towne always spoke of
+her flowers, and he had more than once leaned back in that worn green
+arm-chair opposite hers, as if that stiff, low room were the place of
+all places that he loved to be in. In dreary contrast with his own home,
+how poor and tasteless this home must be! How the carpet must stare up
+at him with its bunches of flowers and leaves upon its faded gray
+ground; how plain the white shades must appear after curtains of real
+lace; how worn and yellowish the green rep of the black-walnut
+furniture; how few the books in the small bookcase; and the photographs
+and engravings upon the walls, how they must shock him! How meagre and
+coarse her dress must be to him after his mother's rich attire!
+
+She despised herself for pitying herself!
+
+Sue Greyson said that Old Place was fairy-land, but in her catalogue of
+its attractions she had omitted the spacious library; his "den," Mr.
+Towne called it. In Tessa's imagination he was ever in that room buried
+among its treasures.
+
+Was her photograph in that room? What had he done with it? Where was he
+keeping it? How he had coaxed for it! She had had it taken unwillingly;
+it was altogether too much like giving herself away; but when she could
+refuse no longer she had given it to him. A vignette with all herself in
+it; too much of herself for him to understand; what would he do with it
+now? Burn it, perhaps, as she had burned his; but he would not be
+burning a ghost, it was her own self, that he had thrown away.
+
+"I should have despised myself forever if I had not believed in him and
+been true," she reasoned. "I would rather trust in a lie than not
+believe the truth. And how could I know that he was not true!"
+
+She took up her work and began to sew, her reverie running on and
+running away with her; an ottoman stood near her, she had laid
+needlework and scissors upon it: how many associations there were
+clustering around it! It was an ugly looking thing, too; her mother had
+worked the cover one winter years ago when she was kept in by a cough;
+the wreath of roses was so unlike roses, and the parrot that was poised
+in the centre of the wreath, on a brown twig, was so ungainly! One
+night--how long ago it was--before she had ever seen Ralph Towne, Felix
+Harrison had been seated upon it while he told her with such a warm, shy
+glance that he never slept without praying for her. And Ralph Towne had
+scattered his photographs over it, and asked her to choose from among
+them, saying, "I should not have had them taken but for you."
+
+The ugly old parrot was dear after all.
+
+"I wonder," she soliloquized, taking slow stitches, "if having lost
+faith in a person, it can ever be brought back again? If he should come
+and say that he has been wrong--"
+
+The gate clicked, in an instant she was on her feet, _had_ he come to
+confess himself in the wrong? Oh, how she would forgive and forget! And
+trust him?
+
+The tall thin figure had a stoop in its shoulders, Ralph Towne was
+erect; the overcoat was carelessly worn, revealing a threadbare vest and
+loose black necktie; it was only Dr. Lake, Dr. Greyson's new partner.
+
+She had been drawn to him the first moment of their meeting. As soon as
+he had left after his first call, she had said to Dinah: "I never felt
+so towards any one before; I shall be so sorry for him to go away where
+I can not follow him; I want to put my arms around him and coax him to
+be good."
+
+"How do you know that he isn't good?"
+
+"I do know it. I do not know how I know. He hasn't any 'women folks'
+either. He is as sensitive to every change in one's voice as the
+thermometer is to changes in the atmosphere. I never saw any one like
+him before. When I make a collection of curiosities I find in Human
+Nature, I shall certainly take him for one of the rarest and most
+interesting. It would not take two minutes to convert him from the
+inquisitor to the martyr at the stake. I feel as if he were a little
+child crying with a thorn in his finger, and he had no mother to take it
+out."
+
+"He was only here fifteen minutes and he was as full of fun as he could
+be; he ran down the piazza, and he whistled while he was unhitching his
+horse, and began to sing as he drove off. Oh, you are so funny! you hear
+a man talk slang--he is equal to Sue Greyson for that--ask mother about
+her cough, tell a funny story, and then think his heart is breaking with
+a thorn in his finger."
+
+Tessa would not laugh. "I want him to stay; I don't want ever to lose
+him."
+
+"Isn't he ugly? Such a tall, square forehead. Did you ever see such a
+forehead?"
+
+"My first thought of him was, 'oh, how homely you are.'"
+
+But that first thought never recurred; she was too much attracted by his
+rapid, easy utterance and sensitive voice to remember his plain face and
+careless attire.
+
+She resumed her sewing with a new train of thought and had forgotten Dr.
+Lake's entrance, when Bridget came to the door with a request from Mrs
+Wadsworth; opening the door of the sitting-room, she found her mother
+leaning back in her sewing chair with a plaintive and childish
+expression, and Dr. Lake playing with her spools of silk, sitting in a
+careless attitude of perfect grace at her side. Tessa was sorry to have
+the picture spoiled by his rising to greet her.
+
+"Ralph Towne, M.D.," he was replying, "he was born with a gold spoon in
+his pretty mouth! It would have been better for him if it had been
+silver-plated like mine. Quit? He's a mummy, a cloister, a tomb! I do
+not quarrel with any man's calling," he continued, winding the black
+silk around his fingers, "circumstances have made me a physician.
+Calling! It means something only when circumstances have nothing to do
+with it."
+
+"Read the lives of the world's best workers," said Tessa.
+
+"A glass of water, an empty glass, and a spoon, if you please, Miss
+Tessa. Do you remember--I have forgotten his name--but I assure you that I
+am not concocting the story--he rose to eminence in the medical
+profession, several rounds higher in the ladder of fame than I expect to
+climb--and his mind was drawn towards medicine when he was a youngster by
+the display of gold lace that his father's physician flung into the eyes
+of the world. Gold lace made that boy a famous doctor." Tessa brought
+the glasses and the water; in a leisurely manner he counted a certain
+number of spoonfuls of water into the empty glass. "I'm a commonplace
+fellow! I'm not one of the world's workers! Neither is Ralph Towne! To
+have an easy life and not do _much_ harm is the most I hope for in this
+world; as for the next, who knows anything about that? I say, 'Your
+tongue, please,' and drop medicine and make powders all day long for my
+bread and butter. I have no faith in medicine."
+
+"Then you are an impostor! You shall never see even the tip of my
+tongue."
+
+He laughed as if it were such fun to laugh.
+
+"What is medicine to you?" he asked after counting forty drops from a
+vial into the water. "A woman in a crowd once touched the border of a
+certain garment and through faith was healed; so I take the thing that
+He has ordained for healing, all created things are His garment; through
+His garment I come nearer to Him and am healed."
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth looked annoyed. "So I may take cream instead of cod liver
+oil, doctor."
+
+"If you prefer it," he answered carelessly. "Miss Tessa, you are a
+Mystic."
+
+Tessa liked to watch the motion of his fingers; his hands were small,
+shapely, and every movement of them struck her as an apt quotation. She
+was learning as much of himself from his hands as from his face.
+
+"Now I must go and scold Felix Harrison," he said rising. "A teaspoonful
+in a wineglass of water three times a day, Mrs. Wadsworth! He had an
+attack last night and cheated me out of my dreams. Do you know him,
+Mystic? If he do not leave off brain work he will make a fool of
+himself. A gold spoon would not have hurt him."
+
+He turned suddenly facing Tessa as they stood alone in the hall; he was
+seriousness itself now; a look of care had settled over his features. He
+was not a "big boy," he was a man, undisciplined, it is true, but a man
+to whom life meant many disappointments and hard work.
+
+"What is the matter with you? Do you ever go to sleep? If you do not
+give up thinking and take to nonsense and novels, I shall be called to
+take you through a nervous fever. Mind, I am in earnest. Don't spend too
+much time in washing the disciples' feet either; it is very charming to
+be St. Theresa, but you are not strong enough."
+
+"Thank you. I am well. Is Sue at home?"
+
+"No, she stays at Old Place until her knight departs. He had better go
+soon or I shall meet him in the woods. Alone. At midnight. What is he
+trifling with her for? Does he intend to marry her?"
+
+Was this his thorn? Could he love a shallow girl like Sue Greyson?
+
+"Ought we to talk about her?" she asked gently.
+
+"You are her friend. You are older than she is. She will not listen to
+me. Her father takes no more care of her than he does of you."
+
+"She has not cared for me lately."
+
+"She does care for you. You must pull her through this. Towne made a
+fool of a girl I know--she is married, though; it didn't smash her
+affections very deep; married rich, too. But it will be a pity for Sue
+to have a heartache all for nix; she is a guileless piece; I would be
+sorry for her to have a disappointment."
+
+"Motherless children are always taken care of," she answered trying to
+speak lightly.
+
+In the twilight she sat alone at the parlor grate; it was beginning to
+rain; through the mist the lights in kitchen and parlor opposite were
+gleaming; Dinah and Bridget were laughing in the basement; a quick, hard
+cough, then her father's voice in a concerned tone sounded through the
+stillness.
+
+Why was she feeling lonely and as if her heart would break, unless
+somebody should come, or unless somebody gave her something, or unless
+something happened? In story-books, when one was in such a mood, in a
+misty twilight something always happened.
+
+Why were there not such strong helpers in her life as women in books
+always found? Compared with the grand, good, winning lover in books,
+what were the men she knew? Why, Dr. Lake was frivolous, Felix Harrison
+weak, Gus Hammerton practical and pedantic, and Mr. Towne heartless and
+stupid!
+
+"Gus is here," said Dinah, her head appearing at the door, "and he has
+brought you a book! But I'm going to read it first."
+
+"Well, I'll come," she answered. But she did not go for half an hour;
+Mr. Hammerton took the new book to her immediately and talked to her
+until her pale cheeks were in a glow.
+
+The last day of the year, what a day it was!
+
+It was like a mellow day in October; in the afternoon Tessa found
+herself wandering through Mayfield; as she sauntered past the
+school-house a voice arrested her, one of the voices that she knew best
+in the world. She stood near the entrance listening.
+
+That thrilling pathetic voice; it had never touched her as it touched
+her to-day.
+
+ "Old year, you shall not die;
+ We did so laugh and cry with you,
+ I've half a mind to die with you,
+ Old year, if you must die."
+
+She stood but a moment, the voice read on, but she did not care to
+listen; she went on at a slow pace, enjoying each step of the way past
+the barren fields lying warm and brown in the sunlight, past the
+farm-houses, past the low-eaved homestead of the Harrisons, past the
+iron gates of the Old Place with the voice in her ears and the sigh for
+the old year in her heart. She almost wished that she could love Felix
+Harrison; she had refused him five times since her seventeenth birthday
+and in May she would be twenty-five! He had said that he would never ask
+her again. Why should she wish for any change to come into her life? If
+she might always live in the present, she would be content; she had her
+father and mother and Dine and Gus; her world was broad enough.
+
+The sound of wheels had been pursuing her; a sudden stoppage, then
+another voice that she knew called to her, "Miss Tessa, will you ride
+with me?"
+
+"Perhaps you are not going my way," she said lightly.
+
+"I am going to Dunellen." He answered her words only.
+
+As soon as they were seated in the carriage, she said very gravely, "I
+wrote you a letter last night, but I burned it this morning."
+
+"I am sorry for that."
+
+The words came out with a gasp and a jerk; she did not know that words
+_could_ choke like that, but she was glad as soon as she had spoken.
+"Mr. Towne, are you engaged to Sue Greyson?"
+
+"Engaged! And to Sue Greyson!"
+
+"I did not ask to be saucy--I did not believe it--but don't be
+heartless--don't be cruel--don't be stupid, do think about her, and don't
+let her die of shame."
+
+"Excuse me, Miss Tessa. Why should you talk to me about Sue Greyson?"
+
+"I knew that you would not understand."
+
+"Perhaps you can explain."
+
+"I can't explain; you ought to know."
+
+"What ought I to know?" he queried, looking down at her with the
+sunshine in his eyes.
+
+"It seems mean in me to tell you such a thing, but I do not know of any
+other way for your sake and hers. I would do any thing to keep you from
+doing a heartless thing."--Another heartless thing, she almost said.--"I
+would do any thing for Sue, as I would for Dine if _she_ had been led
+into trusting in a lie."
+
+His face became perplexed, uncomprehending.
+
+"Are you trying to tell me that Sue Greyson thinks that I am intending
+to marry her and that I have given her an occasion to believe it? You
+are warning me against trifling with Sue?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How do you know that she thinks so?"
+
+"Nonsense! How do I know any thing?"
+
+"I should as soon have thought--" he ended with a laugh.
+
+"A woman's heart is not made of grains of sand to be blown hither and
+thither by a man's breath," she said very earnestly.
+
+"Miss Tessa, you accuse me wrongfully. I have been kind to Sue--I have
+intended to be kind. Her life at home is too quiet for her, she has few
+friends and no education; you call me heartless. I thought that I was
+most brotherly and thoughtful."
+
+His sincerity almost reassured her. Had she misjudged him?
+
+"I beg your pardon," she said, after an uncomfortable pause. "I did not
+know that Old Place was a monastery and that you were a monk. If you are
+speaking sincerely, you are the most stupid human being that ever
+breathed; if you are not sincere, you are too wily for me to
+understand."
+
+The color rose to his forehead, but he was silent.
+
+"Mr. Towne! Excuse me. I am apt to speak too strongly; but I care so
+much for Sue. She is only a child in her experiences; she has no
+fore-thought, she trusts every body, and she thinks that you are so good
+and wonderful. She does not understand any thing but sincerity. Will you
+think about her?"
+
+"I will."
+
+She was almost frightened, was he angry?
+
+"Are you angry with me?" she asked, laying her hand on his arm. "You can
+not misinterpret me; I don't want Sue to be hurt, and I do not want you
+to be capable of hurting her."
+
+"I understand you, Miss Tessa."
+
+He spoke gently; her heart was at rest again.
+
+"You say that you can not understand whether I am wily or sincere?"
+
+"I can not understand."
+
+"Neither can I. But I _think_ that I am sincere!"
+
+"And please be careful how you change your attitude towards her; you are
+unconventional enough to refuse a woman upon the slightest pretext. I
+know that you will say 'I regret exceedingly, Miss Sue, that you have
+misinterpreted my friendly attentions.'"
+
+"I would like to; I think many things that I do not speak, Miss Tessa."
+
+"Your head and heart would echo a perpetual silence if you did not," she
+laughed. "The Sphinx is a chatterbox compared to you."
+
+As they drove up under the maple-trees before the low iron gate, he
+said, "Has this year been a happy year to you? Do you sleep well?"
+
+"Wouldn't you like to look at my tongue and feel my pulse?" she returned
+in her lightest tone.
+
+"Will you not answer me?" he asked gravely.
+
+"This year has been the best year of my life."
+
+"So has it been my best year. This winter I shall decide several things
+pertaining to my future; it is my plan to practice for awhile--and not
+marry!"
+
+Were those last words for her? Discomfited and wounded--oh, how
+wounded!--her lips refused to speak.
+
+"Good-by," she said, just touching his hand.
+
+He turned as he was driving off and lifted his hat, the sunshine of his
+eyes fell full upon her; her smile was but a pitiful effort; what right
+had he to say such a thing to her?
+
+"I hope," she said, as she walked up the path, "that I shall never see
+you again."
+
+"I wish that I had never seen her," he ejaculated, touching his horse
+with the whip.
+
+And thus a part of the old year died and was buried.
+
+Shaking with cold, not daring to go away by herself, she irresolutely
+turned the knob of the sitting-room door; her face, she was aware, was
+not in a state to be taken before her mother's critical eyes; but her
+heart was so crushed, she pitied herself with such infinite compassion,
+that she longed for some one to speak to her kindly, to touch her as if
+they loved her; any thing to take some of the aching away from that
+place in her heart where the tears were frozen.
+
+When she needed any mothering she gave it to herself; with her arms
+around her shivering, shrinking self, she was beseeching, "Be brave;
+it's almost over."
+
+In the old days, the impulsive little Tessa had always chided herself;
+the sensitive little Tessa had always comforted herself; the truthful,
+eager, castle-building little Tessa had always been her own refuge,
+shield, adviser, and best comforter.
+
+With more bosom friends than she knew how to have confidences with, with
+more admiring girl friends than she could find a place for, with more
+hearts open to her than to any one girl at school, Tessa the child,
+Tessa the maiden, and Tessa the woman had always lived within herself,
+leaned upon herself.
+
+Mr. Hammerton said that she was a confutation of the oak and vine
+theory, that he had stood and stood to be entwined about, but that she
+would never entwine.
+
+In this moment, standing at the door, with her hand upon the knob, a ray
+of comfort shone into her heart and nestled there like a gleam of
+sunlight peering through an opening in an under-growth, and the ray of
+comfort was, that, perhaps Gus Hammerton would come to-night and talk to
+her in his kindly, practical, unsentimental fashion, sympathizing with
+her unspoken thoughts, and tender towards the feelings of whose
+existence he was unaware.
+
+Perhaps--but of late, did she fancy, or was it true? that he was rather
+shy with her, and dropped into the chair nearest to Dinah.
+
+Well! she could be alone by and by and go to sleep!
+
+So relentless was she, in that instant toward Ralph Towne that it would
+have been absolute relief could she have looked into his dead face: to
+see the cold lids shut down fast over the sunshiny eyes, to know that
+the stiff lips could never open to speak meaningless words, to touch his
+head and feel assured that, warm and soft, his fingers could never hold
+hers again.
+
+"Why, Tessa, you look frozen to death," exclaimed her mother. "How far
+did you go and where did you meet Mr. Towne?"
+
+"I went to Mayfield," she closed the door and moved towards the gay
+little figure reading "The Story of Elizabeth" upon the lounge. "Mr.
+Towne overtook me after I had passed Old Place."
+
+"O, Tessa," cried Dinah, dropping her book, "Dr. Lake was here. What a
+pity you were out! He asked where 'Mystic' was. I made a list on the
+cover of my book of the things that he talked about. Just hear them. One
+ought to understand short-hand to keep up with him. Now listen."
+
+Tessa stood and listened.
+
+ "'The Valley of the Dog,
+ "'The Car of Juggernaut,
+ "'Insanity,
+ "'Intemperance,
+ "'Tobacco,
+ "'Slavery,
+ "'Church and State,
+ "'Conceit,
+ "'Surgery,
+ "'The English Government,
+ "'Marriage,
+ "'Flirtations,
+ "'Ladies as Physicians,
+ "'The Wicked World,
+ "'A Quotation from Scott.'
+
+"And that isn't half. I began to grow interested there, and forgot to
+write."
+
+"Where did the professional call come in?"
+
+"Oh, that doesn't take a second. He watches his patient while he talks!
+Oh, and he told two hospital stories, a story of his school life, and
+about being lost in the woods, and about a camp-meeting! He is from
+Mississippi. Your Mr. Towne couldn't say so much in ten years."
+
+"He says that the disease in my lungs is not progressive, but that I
+should protect my health! I ought to spend every winter in the West
+Indies or in the south of Europe! South of Europe, indeed! On your
+father's business! Now if I had married John Gesner I might have spent
+my winters in any part of the civilized world."
+
+"Would you have taken us?" asked Dinah.
+
+"The future is veiled from us mercifully."
+
+Dinah laughed. "Mother, you forget about love."
+
+"_Love!_" exclaimed Mrs. Wadsworth scornfully, "I should like to know
+what love is."
+
+"Father knows," said Dinah. "Have you read 'Elizabeth,' Tessa?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'd _die_ before I'd act as she did, wouldn't you? I'd die before I'd
+let any body know that I cared for him more than he cared for me,
+wouldn't you?"
+
+"It isn't so easy to die."
+
+"Did Mr. Towne speak of Sue Greyson?" inquired Mrs. Wadsworth.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"Nothing--much?"
+
+"He must have said something. Couldn't you judge of his feelings towards
+her?"
+
+"I am not a detective."
+
+"H'm," ejaculated Mrs. Wadsworth, glancing up at the uneasy lips, "if he
+can't talk or sing, he can say something."
+
+"Possibly."
+
+Standing alone at one of the windows in her chamber, she watched the sun
+go down the last night of the old year.
+
+In her young indignation, she had called Ralph Towne some harsh names;
+while under the fascination of his presence, she had thought that she
+did not blame him for any thing; but standing alone with the happy,
+false old year behind her, and the new, empty year opening its door into
+nowhere, she cried, with a voiceless cry: "You are not true; you are not
+sincere; you are shallow and selfish."
+
+At this moment, watching the same sunset, for he had an appreciation of
+pretty things, he was driving homeward almost as nerve-shaken as Tessa
+herself; according to his measure, he was regretting that these two
+trusting women were suffering because of his--he did not call it
+selfishness--he had been merely thoughtless.
+
+Tessa's heart could kindle and glow and burn itself out into white ashes
+before his would feel the first tremor of heat; she had prided herself
+upon being a student of human nature, but this man in his selfishness,
+his slowness, his simplicity, had baffled her.
+
+How could she be a student of human nature if she understood nothing but
+truth?
+
+She was in a bitter mood to-night, not sparing Ralph Towne as she would
+not have spared herself. The crimson and gold faded! the gray shut down
+over her world: "How alone I shall be to live in a year without him!"
+
+"O, Tessa! Tessa!" cried Dinah, running up-stairs, "here's Gus, and he
+has brought us something good and funny I know, for he's so provokingly
+cool."
+
+How could she think thoughts about the old year and the sunset with this
+practical friend down-stairs and a mysterious package that must mean
+books! She had expected to cry herself to sleep; instead she read
+Dickens with Mr. Hammerton until the new year was upon them.
+
+"Gus," she said severely, with the volumes of Dickens piled in her arms
+up to her chin, "if I become matter-of-fact, practical, and commonplace
+there will be no one in the world to thank but you. I had a poem at my
+finger tips about the old year that would have forever shattered the
+fame of Tennyson and Longfellow."
+
+"As we have lost it, we'll be content with them," he said. "Drop your
+books and let us read them."
+
+Before the dawn she was dreaming and weeping in her sleep, for a voice
+was repeating, not the voice in the school-house, nor the voice that had
+read Longfellow, but the voice that had spoken the cold good-by at the
+gate:
+
+ "The leaves are falling, falling,
+ Solemnly and slow;
+ Caw! Caw! the rooks are calling,
+ It is a sound of woe,
+ A sound of woe!"
+
+
+
+
+IV.--SOMEBODY NEW.
+
+
+There was the faintest streak of sunshine on the dying verbenas in her
+garden; the dead leaves, twigs, and sprays looked as if some one who did
+not care had trampled on them. She was glad that the plants were in,
+that there was a warm place for them somewhere.
+
+The school children were jostling against each other on the planks, on
+the opposite side of the street, laughing and shouting. Nellie Bird was
+provokingly chanting:
+
+ "Freddie's mad,
+ And I am glad,
+ And I know what will please him."
+
+and there were two little girls in red riding hoods, plaid cloaks, and
+gay stockings, skipping along with their hands joined. It was a hard
+world for little girls to grow up in. She had run along the planks from
+school once, not so very long ago, swinging her lunch-basket and teasing
+Felix Harrison just as at this minute Nellie Bird was teasing Freddie
+Stone.
+
+Her needle was taking exquisite stitches; Dinah liked white aprons for
+school wear, and this was the last of the dainty half-dozen. Her
+mother's voice and step broke in upon her reverie.
+
+"Tessa, I wouldn't have believed it, but six of my cans of tomatoes have
+all sizzled up! Not one was last year, though. Mrs. Bird never has such
+good luck with hers as we have with ours."
+
+"That's too bad. But we have so many that we sha'n't miss them."
+
+"That isn't the question. I remember how my side ached that day. Bridget
+was so stupid and you and Dine had gone up to West Point with Gus; he
+always is coming and taking you and Dine off somewhere! You are not
+attending to a word I say."
+
+"Yes, I am; I am thinking how you took us all three to look at your cans
+of tomatoes."
+
+"But you don't care about the tomatoes. You never do take an interest in
+house-work. I would rather have Sue Greyson's skin stuffed with straw
+than to have you around the house. And _she_ is going to marry Ralph
+Towne: she passed with him this morning; they were in the phaeton with
+that pair of little grays! And Sue was driving! I believe that you have
+taken cold in some way, you must see the doctor the next time he comes;
+your face is the color of chalk, and your eyes are as big as saucers
+with dark rims under them! You sat here writing altogether too late last
+night."
+
+"It was only eleven when I went up-stairs."
+
+"That was just an hour too late. What good does your writing do you or
+any body, I'd like to know."
+
+"It is rather too early in my life to judge."
+
+"Your father spoils you about writing; I suppose that he thinks you are
+a feather in _his_ cap; I tell him that you are none of my bringing up."
+
+"I am not 'up' yet, perhaps."
+
+"You may as well drop that work and take a run into Dunellen; the air
+will do you good. You had color enough in the summer. I want a spool of
+red silk, two pieces of crimson dress braid, and a spool of fifty
+cotton. Don't get scarlet braid, I want crimson; and run into the
+library and get me something exciting; you might have known better than
+to bring me that volume of essays!"
+
+She folded the apron and laid it on the pile in the willow work-basket,
+wrapped herself in a bright shawl, covered her braids with a brown
+velvet hat, and started for her walk, drawing on her gloves as she went
+down the path.
+
+Her mother stood at the window watching her. "She is too deep for me,"
+she soliloquized; "there is more in her than I shall ever make out. She
+is so full of nonsense that I expect she has refused Ralph Towne, and
+what for, I can't see--there's no one else in the way."
+
+In Tessa's pocket was a long and wide envelope containing the article
+that she had sat up last night to write; the lessons gathered from her
+old year she had told in her simple, quaint, forcible style. The title
+was as simple as the article: "Making Mistakes."
+
+"Tessa, you are not brilliant," Miss Jewett had once remarked, "but you
+do go right to the spot."
+
+The fresh air tinged her cheeks, she breathed more freely away from her
+work and her reveries; there was life and light somewhere, she need not
+suffocate in the dark.
+
+It was not a long walk into the little city of Dunellen; fifteen minutes
+of brisk stepping along the planks brought her to the corner that turned
+into the broad, paved, maple-lined street. As she turned the corner, a
+lame child in a calico dress and torn hood staggered past her bent with
+the weight of a heavy basket. She stopped and would have spoken, but the
+shy eyes were not encouraging.
+
+Two years ago all the world might have knocked at her gate and she would
+not have heard.
+
+"Will you ride?" She lifted her eyes, with their color deepening, to
+find Mr. Towne sitting alone in his carriage looking down at her.
+
+"You are going the wrong way."
+
+"Because I am not going _your_ way?" he asked somewhat sternly.
+
+"I thought that you had gone away," she said uncomfortably.
+
+"We go on the seventeenth."
+
+"You have not told me where?"
+
+"Have I not? You have forgotten. Sue will stay at home and learn to be
+sensible."
+
+"I don't like you when you speak in that tone."
+
+"Then I will never do it again."
+
+"Good-by," she said cheerily, passing on.
+
+His thoughts ran on--"How bright she is! She has a sweet heart, if ever a
+woman had! I wonder if I _am_ letting slip through my fingers one of the
+opportunities that come to a man but once in a lifetime! A year or two
+hence will do; she cares too much to forget me."
+
+Her thoughts ran on-"How _can_ you look so good and so handsome and not
+be true!"
+
+With a quickened step she crossed the Park. Miss Jewett's large fancy
+store was opposite the Park.
+
+Miss Jewett was never too tired or too busy to live again her young
+life. Sue Greyson was sure that she had broken somebody's heart, else
+she never was so eloquent in warning her about Stacey Rheid. Laura
+Harrison had decided that she had once lived in constant dread of having
+a step-mother. Mary Sherwood wondered if she had ever been a busybody,
+and in that experience had learned to warn her to keep quiet her busy
+tongue; and Tessa Wadsworth knew that she must have learned her one word
+of advice: "Wait," through years that she would not talk about.
+
+Miss Jewett was seldom alone; Tessa was glad to find the clerks absent
+and no one bending over the counter but Sue Greyson.
+
+"O, Tessa," she cried in her loud, laughing voice. "I haven't seen you
+in an age."
+
+Miss Jewett's greeting was a hand-clasp; among all her girls (and all
+the girls in Dunellen were hers) Tessa Wadsworth was the elected one.
+
+"Mrs. Towne has every thing so delicious," Sue was rattling on; "such
+perfumes and such silks and such jewels. Oh, how Old Place makes my
+mouth water! I wish you could go over the place, Tessa; you were never
+even through the grounds, were you? Mr. Ralph takes great pride in
+keeping it nice; of course, it is really his. I'd marry any body to live
+there and have plenty of money and do just as I please; not that Mr.
+Ralph isn't something out of the common, though. People say that he
+never means any thing by his attentions; Dr. Lake says--"
+
+"I hear that you are going to St. Louis," interrupted Miss Jewett.
+
+"No, I'm not. And I'm as provoked as I can be and live! Something has
+happened; Mr. Ralph is an uneasy mortal; he never knows what he will do
+next, and he has changed his mind about taking me. My cake is all dough
+about my winter's fun. How I cried the night she told me! The last night
+of the year, too, when I ought to have been full of fun. Mrs. Towne
+wants me to write to her, but I'd never dare, unless you would help me,
+Tessa, about the spelling and punctuation. Mr. Ralph would laugh until
+he died over my letters.
+
+"I don't write to Stacey now, Miss Jewett. I wrote him a letter one
+Sunday from Old Place and told him that he might as well cease. Mr.
+Ralph and I had been walking through the wood and he asked me if I were
+engaged to Stacey! I thought it was about time to stop that."
+
+"Perhaps if you had been home you wouldn't have written that letter.
+Stacey is a fine fellow."
+
+"Oh, I had thought of it, but that day I decided! Stacey can hardly
+support one, let alone two. Father says that I was born to have a rich
+husband because I have such luxurious tastes! I know that I shall die
+cooped up at home. I have to go out to see the sons and daughters of the
+land. Tessa, I don't see how you live."
+
+"I do, nevertheless," said Tessa, selecting her spool of silk.
+
+"I shall have Dr. Lake this winter or I couldn't exist. He says that he
+will take me everywhere if father will only give him the time. He is
+great fun, only he does get so moody and serious; sits for two hours in
+the office with his head in his hands. Mr. Ralph doesn't have moods; he
+is always pleasant. I am going to stay these last few days at Old Place.
+Tessa, I am coming to stay all night with you and have a long talk."
+
+"I shall be very glad; I have been wishing that you would."
+
+"Oh, I'll come. I have a whole budget to tell you."
+
+"Sue, you look thin," said Miss Jewett, rolling up her purchases.
+
+"I _am_ thin. Since the night before New Years I have lost three
+pounds."
+
+The night before New Years! Tessa's veil shaded her face falling between
+her and Sue.
+
+"Mr. Ralph lectured me; oh, _how_ he talked! When he will, he will,
+that's the truth. His mother says that her will is nothing compared to
+his, and I believe it." Sue's face grew troubled. "He told me that I
+ought to read travels and histories, and throw away novels; that I ought
+to marry Stacey, if he is a good man and can take care of me--" Her voice
+sounded as if she were crying; she laughed instead and ran off.
+
+"Something at Old Place has hurt Sue; I didn't like the idea of Mrs.
+Towne taking her up; Mr. Towne--I do not know about him! Do you?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Ah, here comes Sarah! Rachel has a sore throat, and Mary has gone to
+the city to buy to-day. Light the gas, Sarah."
+
+The light flashed over the faces: Miss Jewett's almost as fair as a
+child's, and sweeter than any child's that Tessa had ever seen, with a
+mouth in the lines of which her whole history was written, with just a
+suspicion of dimples in the tinted cheeks, with brown rings of soft hair
+touching the smooth forehead; the younger face was hurried, anxious,
+with a trembling of the lips, and a nervous gleam in the eyes that were
+so dark, to-night, that they might have been mistaken for hazel.
+
+The door was pushed open; a crowd of girls giggled in; Tessa bowed to
+Mary Sherwood and moved aside. She was turning over a pile of wools,
+selecting colors for a sacque for Dinah, when a laugh from the group
+thrilled her; low, deep, full, in all her life she had never heard a
+sound like it.
+
+It was as sweet as the note of a thrush and as jubilant as a thoughtless
+girl.
+
+"Now, Naughty Nan, you are laughing at me. But I will forgive you,
+because you are going away so soon. When are you coming back?"
+
+"Never. I will allure the black bear to take me around the world."
+
+Naughty Nan stepped back, tossing her curls away from her face; Tessa
+looked down into her face, for she was a little thing; it was not a
+remarkable face: a broad forehead, deep set brown eyes, a passable
+complexion, a saucy mouth. If she would only laugh again; but she would
+not even speak.
+
+How surprised Tessa would have been had she known that Naughty Nan had
+been studying her and wishing, "I want to be like you."
+
+The group of girls giggled out.
+
+"I have fallen in love," said Tessa.
+
+"With Nan Gerard? Every body does. She is one of those lovable little
+creatures that every body spoils! It's strange that you haven't met her;
+she is Mary Sherwood's cousin."
+
+"I do remember now--Mr. Hammerton told me that I must hear her laugh."
+
+"Her home is in St. Louis; she had never been in Dunellen until a month
+since; she was her father's pet and lived abroad with him until he died
+a year ago! He named her Naughty Nan. She has plenty of money and plenty
+of lovers! She is going home under the escort of Mr. Towne and his
+mother. Perhaps it is her laugh that has stolen his heart from Sue!
+Naughty Nan was to be married, but the gentleman died in consumption."
+
+"And she can laugh as lightly as that! If my father should die I would
+never laugh again."
+
+
+
+
+V.--HEARTS THAT WERE WAITING.
+
+
+On the evening of the eighteenth of January, Tessa was sitting alone in
+her chamber, wrapped in her shawl, writing. She was keeping a secret,
+for she was writing a book and no one knew it but Mr. Hammerton; he
+would not have known it had not several questions arisen to which she
+could find no answer.
+
+"I can not do without my encyclopedia," she had said.
+
+She had written the title lovingly--"Under the Wings."
+
+This chamber was her sanctuary; she was born in this room, she had lived
+in it ever since; her little battles had been fought on this consecrated
+ground, her angry tears, her wilful tears, and the few later grateful
+tears had fallen while kneeling at the side of the white-draped bed or
+sitting at the window with her head in her hands or on the window-sill.
+A stranger would have thought it a plain, low room with its cottage set
+of pale green and gold trimmings, its ingrain carpet of oak leaves on a
+green ground, its gray paper with scarlet border, and three white shades
+with scarlet tassels.
+
+The high mantel was piled with books, the gifts of her father, Mr.
+Hammerton, and Miss Jewett; on the walls were photographs in oval
+black-walnut frames of Miss Jewett, sitting at a table with her elbow
+upon it and one hand resting on a book in her lap, of her father and
+mother, she sitting and he standing behind her, and one of herself and
+Dinah, taken when they were fifteen and twenty-one; there were also a
+large photograph taken from a painting of the Mater Dolorosa, which Mr.
+Hammerton had given her on her fourteenth birthday and a chromo of Red
+Riding Hood that he had given to Dinah upon her fourteenth birthday.
+Upon the table at which she was writing, books were piled, and a package
+of old letters that she had been sorting, and choosing some to burn,
+among which were two from Felix Harrison. The package contained several
+from Mr. Hammerton, but his were never worth burning; they were only
+worth keeping because they were so like himself. Pages of manuscript
+were scattered among the books, and a long envelope contained two
+rejected articles that she had planned to rewrite after a consultation
+with Mr. Hammerton and to send elsewhere. She had cried over her first
+rejected article (when she was eighteen), and two years afterward had
+revised it, changed the title, and her father had been proud of it in
+print.
+
+She was writing and thinking of Sue when a noisy entrance below
+announced her presence.
+
+"Go right up," said Mrs. Wadsworth's voice. "Tessa is star-gazing in her
+room. Don't stay if you are chilly. Tessa likes to be cold."
+
+Tessa met her at the head of the stairs.
+
+"I've come to stay all night. Do you want me?"
+
+"I want you more than I want any one in the world."
+
+"That's refreshing. I wanted to see you and that's why I came. Norah
+Bird said that Dine was to stay all night with her and I knew I should
+have you all to myself. Dr. Lake brought me. I believe that he wanted me
+to come. What do you stay up here for? It's lovely down-stairs with your
+father and mother; she is sewing and he is reading to her. Put away that
+great pile of foolscap and talk to me; I'm as full of talk as an egg is
+full of meat."
+
+"Must I break the shell?"
+
+"Your room always looks pretty and there isn't much in it, either."
+
+"Of course not, after Old Place."
+
+"Old Place _is_ enchanting!" Sue tossed her gloves and hat to the bed.
+"I'll keep on my sacque; I want to stay up here."
+
+Tessa had reseated herself at the table. Sue dropped down on the carpet
+at her feet.
+
+"Have they gone?"
+
+"Oh, yes! I stayed to see them off and drove to the depot with them. We
+called for Nan Gerard. What a flirt that girl is! Any one would think
+that she had known Mr. Ralph all his life."
+
+Sue leaned backward against Tessa; her face was feverish and excited,
+her thin cheeks would have looked hollow but for their high color, her
+eyes as she raised them revealed something new; something new and not
+altogether pleasant.
+
+Tessa touched her hair and then bent over and kissed her. It was so
+seldom that Sue was kissed.
+
+"You know that night--" Sue began with an effort, "the night before New
+Years. Mr. Ralph found me in his den, I was arranging one of his tables,
+and he said that he wanted to talk to me. And I should think he _did_! I
+didn't know that he had so much tongue in his head. His mother calls him
+Ralph the Silent. Grace Geer calls him Ralph the Wily when nobody hears.
+He is Ralph the Hateful when he wants to be. How he went on! Fury!
+There! I promised him not to talk slang or to use 'unlady-like
+exclamations.' I was as high and mighty as he was, but I wanted to cry
+all the time. He said that I ought to live for something, that I am not
+a child but a woman. And I promised him that I wouldn't read novels
+until he says that I may! He said that I didn't know what trouble is!
+_He_ has had trouble, Grace Geer says. I don't see how. Some girl I
+suppose. Perhaps she flirted with him. I hope she did. But I have had
+trouble. Did _he_ ever wait and wait and wait for a thing till he almost
+died with waiting, and then find that he didn't get it and never
+_could_? Did you ever feel so?"
+
+The appealing eyes were looking into hers; she could not speak
+instantly.
+
+"I don't believe that you ever did. You are quiet. You have a nice home
+and people to love you; your mother and father are so proud of you; your
+mother is always talking to people about you as if she couldn't live
+without you! And you don't have beaux and such horrid things! I
+shouldn't think that you would like Dine to have a lover before you have
+one."
+
+"Dine?" said Tessa, looking perplexed.
+
+"Why, yes, Mr. Hammerton."
+
+"Oh, I forgot him," replied Tessa, almost laughing.
+
+"I wish that I had _never_ seen Old Place. I never should have thought
+any thing if it hadn't been for Grace Geer. Before I went to Old Place I
+expected to marry Stacey. She put things into my head. She used to call
+me Mrs. Ralph, and tell me how splendidly I could dress after I was
+married! And she used to ask me what he said to me and explain that it
+meant something. I didn't know that it meant any thing. He was so old
+and so wise that I thought he could never think of me. Once she went
+home with me and she told father and Aunt Jane and Dr. Lake that they
+were going to lose me. He told me himself that night that he was more
+interested in me than in any body."
+
+"Did he say that?" asked Tessa, startled.
+
+"Yes, he did."
+
+"So am I interested in your life. I want to see what becomes of you."
+
+"Oh, he didn't mean _that_. He meant in me. But I suppose he didn't mean
+any thing, or he wouldn't have told his mother not to take me to St.
+Louis. You think I like him because he's rich and handsome, but I don't.
+I like him because he was so kind to me; nobody was ever so kind to me
+before; I can love any one who is kind to me. He gave me his photograph
+a year ago. It's elegant. I'll show it to you some time. I know he had
+six taken, for I saw them and counted them; he didn't know it, though.
+And I heard him tell his mother that he had _five_ taken. I never could
+find out where that sixth one went to. I know that his mother had one,
+and Grace Geer, and Miss Sarepta Towne, that's three! And mine was four,
+and Philip Towne's was five. I asked him where the other was."
+
+"What did he say?" asked Tessa, gravely.
+
+"He said nothing. I know that Aunt Jane thinks my not going the queerest
+thing in nature, and father looked rather nonplussed and asked me what I
+had been doing. I am as ashamed as I can be."
+
+Tessa arranged her papers thoughtfully; she was pondering Grace Geer's
+name for Mr. Towne.
+
+"Perhaps he will change his mind and come home and like me," said Sue,
+brightening.
+
+"O, Sue, Sue, don't make a disappointment for yourself! When there are
+so many good and beautiful things in the world, why do you see only this
+that is being withheld?"
+
+"Because--" with a drooping head, "I want it so."
+
+"There are good men and good women in the world, Sue; men and women
+whose word is pure gold."
+
+"Whose, I'd like to know?"
+
+"Miss Jewett's."
+
+"Oh, of course!"
+
+"And Gus Hammerton's."
+
+"Oh, he's as wise and stupid as an owl!"
+
+"Dr. Johnson could think in Latin and I should not wonder if Gus could."
+
+"But he's awkward and never talks nonsense, and he wears spectacles and
+has a tiny bald spot on the top of his head, the place where the wool
+ought to grow! The girls don't run after him."
+
+"They are not wise enough."
+
+"He's so old, too."
+
+"He's younger than Mr. Towne."
+
+"He doesn't look so. And he's poor."
+
+"He has a good salary in the bank."
+
+"Mr. Ralph has the pure gold, but it is not in his word. I only wish it
+was. I always pray over my love affairs; they ought to come out all
+right."
+
+"How do you know what 'all right' is?"
+
+"I know what I want."
+
+"I'll say to you what Miss Jewett always says _Wait_."
+
+"What for? I don't know what I'm waiting for. Do you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What? Tell me."
+
+"_The will of God_."
+
+"Oh!" Sue drew nearer as if she were frightened. After a while she
+spoke: "I'm so sorry for dear Mrs. Towne. She has every thing in the
+world but the thing she wants most. She said one day that she would be
+willing to be the poorest woman in Dunellen if she might have a
+daughter. She said it one day after we had passed you; you were alone,
+picking up leaves near the corner by the brook. 'A daughter like that,'
+she said, and she turned to look back at you; you were standing still
+with the leaves in your hand. Mr. Ralph didn't say anything, but he
+looked back, too. I said, 'That's Tessa Wadsworth.' Mrs. Towne said, 'Do
+you know her, Ralph?' and he said, 'I have met her several times.'"
+
+Tessa had wiped her gold pen and slipped it into its morocco case; she
+closed her writing-desk as she said cheerily: "Now about this winter,
+Sue; what do you intend to do?"
+
+"You don't know how horrid it is at home! Father always has his pockets
+full of bottles and he doesn't care for the things that interest me; all
+he talks about is his 'cases,' and all Aunt Jane cares for is house-work
+and the murders in the newspapers; Dr. Lake is splendid, but he's so
+poor and he's low-spirited when he isn't full of fun; and when his
+engagement with father is ended he'll set up for himself, and it will
+take him a century to afford to be married."
+
+"Sue, look up at me and listen."
+
+Sue looked up and listened.
+
+"I pray you don't flirt with Dr. Lake."
+
+Sue laughed a conscious laugh.
+
+"Men flirt; they haven't any hearts."
+
+"He has. You do not know the influence for evil that you may become in
+his life."
+
+Sue's eyes grew wild, she clung to Tessa with both hands. "You sha'n't
+talk so to me. You sha'n't. You make me afraid. I'll try to be good. I
+_will_ try."
+
+"How will you try?"
+
+"I won't try to make him like me. I am sure that he would if I should
+try a little. I'll tell him about Stacey. Tessa, _I don't want to be an
+old maid._"
+
+Tessa's eyes and lips kept themselves grave.
+
+"I wouldn't think about that. I'd do good and be good; I'd help Aunt
+Jane, and go with your father on his long drives--"
+
+"I'd rather go with Dr. Lake."
+
+"Let your father see what a delightful daughter you can be. My father
+and I can talk for hours about books and places and people."
+
+"Hateful! I hate books. And I don't know about places and book-people."
+
+"And don't wait for Dr. Lake to come in at night."
+
+"I do. I made him a cup of coffee last night."
+
+"Who makes coffee for your father?"
+
+"Oh father thought that I made it for him. But Dr. Lake knew!"
+
+"I will read history with you this winter. Dine and I intend to study
+German with Gus Hammerton; you can study with us, if you will."
+
+"Ugh!" groaned Sue, "as if that were as much fun as getting married."
+
+"It may help along. Who knows?" laughed Tessa.
+
+"I'm going to make Miss Gesner a visit next month. She asked me to-day.
+But they are such old men? Mr. John Gesner is an old beau! Mr. Lewis is
+lovely, so kind and polite. And Miss Gesner is charming when she doesn't
+try to educate me. Their house is grander than Old Place and they keep
+more servants. I'll forget all about Old Place before spring. Mr. John
+Gesner likes girls."
+
+"Sue."
+
+"Well! Don't be so solemn."
+
+"If I were to die and leave a little girl in the world as your mother
+left you, I would hope that some one would watch over her, and if the
+time came, through her own foolishness, or in the way of God's
+discipline, for a disappointment to come to her, I would hope that this
+friend would love her as I love you to-night. She would warn her, advise
+her, and encourage her! Don't go to visit Miss Gesner; she is selfish to
+ask you; you are bright and lively and she likes to have you to help
+entertain her friends--but you will not be so good a daughter to your
+father if your heart is drawn away from his home; the best home that he
+can afford to give you."
+
+"There's danger at home and danger abroad," laughed Sue. "Don't you wish
+that you could put me in a glass case?"
+
+"I don't know what to do with you."
+
+"Oh, something will happen to me before long. I'll get married or die or
+something. I'm glad I had my things ready to go with the Townes, for now
+I have them ready to go to Miss Gesner's. I wish I had a mother and my
+little brother hadn't died. I'd like to have a _real_ home like yours! I
+wouldn't mind if it were as plain as this; but I'd rather have it like
+Old Place. Won't Nan Gerard have a lovely time? Such a long journey, and
+Mr. Ralph will be so attentive, and she'll be so proud to be with such a
+handsome fellow! Don't you like to be proud of people that belong to
+you? I am always proud enough to go out with Mr. Ralph."
+
+"There is some one else to be proud of somewhere! Sue, can't you be
+brave?"
+
+"Somebody will have what I want," said Sue. "I can't bear to think of
+that. I shall have to drive past Old Place in father's chaise with one
+horse, and I hate to drive with one horse! and see somebody in _my_
+place in silks and velvets and diamonds and emeralds! And _she_ will
+have visitors from all over and Old Place will be full of good times and
+Mr. Ralph will let her do it all and be so kind to her! And she will be
+so proud and happy and handsome. Would _you_ like that? You know you
+wouldn't. Do you think that I really must give him up?"
+
+Sue did not see the distressed face above her; she felt that the fingers
+that touched her hair and forehead were loving and pitiful.
+
+"Don't talk so; don't _think_ so! Forget all about Old Place. Do you not
+remember Mrs. Towne's kindness? That is a happier thing to think of than
+the grounds and the house and handsome furniture."
+
+"I wish I had told you about it before," sobbed Sue. "You would have
+made it right for me; then I wouldn't have thought and thought about it
+until it was _real_. And now I can't believe that it isn't true and the
+house is shut up with only Mr. and Mrs. Ryerson and the boy to look
+after things and Mr. Ralph gone not to come back--ever, perhaps. If Mrs.
+Towne should die, perhaps he won't come back but go off and be a doctor;
+for he doesn't want to be married, he said so; he told his mother so. I
+don't want him to be a doctor and have bottles in all his pockets and
+smell of medicine like father and Dr. Lake. He wouldn't be Mr. Ralph any
+more."
+
+"So much the better for you."
+
+"Then you don't think that he's so grand."
+
+She answered quietly, surprising herself with the truth that she had not
+dared to confess to herself, "No. I do not think he is so grand."
+
+"Who is?"
+
+"Who is? George Macdonald and George Eliot and Shakespeare and St. Paul
+and my father and your father," laughed Tessa.
+
+"Hark. They are singing over the way."
+
+"There's a child's party there to-night."
+
+Tessa went to the window.
+
+Loud and merry were the voices:
+
+ "Little Sally Waters sitting in the sun,
+ Weeping and crying for a man."
+
+Sue laughed. "Oh, how that carries me back."
+
+"That's good advice," said Tessa, as the children shouted--
+
+ "Rise, Sally, rise, and wipe off your eyes."
+
+"I wish that I were a little girl over there in the fun," said Sue.
+"Suppose we go."
+
+"I intended to go. Perhaps we can teach them some new games."
+
+No one among the children was merrier than Sue; not one any more a
+child.
+
+"I think I'll stay little," said Sue, coming to Tessa, half out of
+breath. "I'm never going to grow up; it's hateful being a woman, isn't
+it?"
+
+"You will never know," said Tessa laughing. "There's little Harry
+Sherwood calling for Sue Greyson now."
+
+Towards midnight, when Tessa was asleep, Sue awakened her with, "Put
+your arm around me, I can't go to sleep."
+
+Sue lay still not speaking or moving.
+
+The clock in the sitting-room struck three.
+
+"Tessa, Tessa," whispered a startled voice, "are you awake?"
+
+"Yes," rousing herself, "what is it? Is any thing the matter?"
+
+"Oh, no," wearily, "but it has struck one, and two, and three, and I'm
+afraid it will strike four."
+
+"I suppose it will unless the clock stops or time ceases to be."
+
+"What will be when time ceases to be? What comes next?"
+
+"Forever comes next. Don't you want it to be forever?"
+
+"You sha'n't talk so and frighten me. I can't go to sleep. I thought
+somebody was dying or dead."
+
+"You were dreaming." Tessa put a loving arm around her. "Didn't you ever
+say the multiplication table in the night?"
+
+"No, nor any other time."
+
+The moonlight shone in through the open window, making a golden track
+across the carpet.
+
+"The moon shines on Red Riding Hood," said Sue. "Tell me a story,
+Tessa."
+
+"Don't you like the moonlight? Some one had a lovely little room once
+and she said that the moonlight came in and swept it clean of foolish
+thoughts."
+
+"What else?" in an interested voice.
+
+"It is a long story; it is in blank verse, too, and you like rhymes."
+
+"I've been trying to say Mother Goose and Old Mother Hubbard."
+
+"I will tell you a story," said Tessa, as wide awake as if the sun were
+shining. "I will rhyme it as I run along, and when I hesitate and can
+not make good sense and a perfect rhyme, we'll go to sleep."
+
+"Well, but you must do your best."
+
+"I always do my best. I tell Gus and Dine stories in rhyme."
+
+So she began with a description of a little girl who was fair and a boy
+who was brave, who grew up and grew together, but cruel fate in the
+shape of a step-mother separated them, and he travelled all over the
+world, and she stayed at home and made tatting, until a hundred years
+went by and he came to the door a worn-out traveller and found her a
+withered maiden sitting alone feeding her cat. Afterward in trying to
+recall this, she only remembered one couplet:
+
+ "He was covered with snow, his hat with fur,
+ He took it off and bowed to her."
+
+Once or twice Sue gave a hysterical laugh.
+
+The story was brought to a proper and blissful conclusion; still Sue was
+sleepless.
+
+"How far on their journey do you suppose they are now?"
+
+"I'm not a time-table."
+
+Sue lay too still to be asleep; when she _was_ still she was a marvel of
+stillness.
+
+Daylight and breakfast found her in high spirits, asking advice of Mrs.
+Wadsworth about making a wrapper out of an old brown cashmere, and
+talking to Tessa about the drive that she had promised to take with Dr.
+Lake, saying the last thing as she ran down the steps, "I'll come and
+study German if I can't find any thing better to do."
+
+In all the talks afterward, Sue never alluded to this night; it was the
+only part of her life that she wished Tessa to forget; she herself
+forgot every thing except that she was miserable about Mr. Ralph and two
+of the lines in the story that she had laughed about and called as
+"stupid" as her own life:
+
+ "The room in which she lived alone, was carpeted with matting;
+ She spent the hours, she spent the days, in making yards of
+ tatting."
+
+
+
+
+VI.--ANOTHER OPPORTUNITY.
+
+
+"Miss Jewett."
+
+"Well, dear."
+
+Tessa was sitting on the carpet in Miss Jewett's little parlor with her
+head in Miss Jewett's lap; Miss Jewett had been smoothing the girl's
+hair for several minutes, neither speaking.
+
+"I have lost something; I don't dare try to find it for fear that God
+has taken it away from me."
+
+"How did you lose it?"
+
+Tessa raised her head, paused, then spoke impressively: "I lost it
+through _carefulness_."
+
+"Ah! I have heard of such a thing before."
+
+"Oh, have you? Is any one in the world like me? I thought that no one
+ever made such mistakes as I do, or needed the discipline that I need!"
+
+"My dear, all hearts are fashioned alike."
+
+"But all lives are not alike."
+
+"Not so different as you imagine; in my girls I live over my old
+struggles, longings, mistakes; in the history of lives lived ages ago I
+find the same struggles, longings, mistakes, the same need of the same
+discipline."
+
+"Oh, if you can help me; if you can only help me! You study the Bible,
+isn't every thing in the Bible? Didn't Paul mean that every thing was in
+it when he said that through the comfort of the Scriptures we have hope?
+I can not find any thing to suit me; _you_ find something."
+
+The gaslight was more than she could bear, she dropped her head again,
+covering her face with both hands.
+
+"Suppose you tell me all about it."
+
+"_All about it_," repeated Tessa in a muffled tone. "I could not if I
+wanted to; but I can tell you where the despair comes in."
+
+"That is all I want to know."
+
+"Well," raising her head again and speaking clearly and slowly. "It was
+an opportunity to get something that I wanted. I thought I had it, I
+thought it was laid in my hand and I had but to clasp my fingers tightly
+over it to keep it forever and forever; I cared so much that I hardly
+cared for any thing else. I do not think that I would lose it again
+through caring too much. Do you think that it is just as hard for God to
+see us too careful as too careless?"
+
+"How were you too careful?"
+
+"Oh, in being wise and doing things in my own way. What I want to know
+is this: did He ever give any body another opportunity? If He ever did,
+I will hope that He will be just as tender towards me."
+
+"Christ came down to earth to seek the lost; a lost opportunity is one
+of the things that He came to find. I think if you seek it for His sake,
+and not for your own, that He will find it for you."
+
+"For His sake, not for mine," repeated Tessa, wonderingly. "How can I
+ever attain to that? I am very selfish."
+
+"Do you remember about David, whose heart was fashioned like yours, how
+careful he was once and what happened?"
+
+Miss Jewett was speaking in her brisk, working voice; the troubled face
+had become alight.
+
+"Now we will read about one who made a sorry mistake by being so careful
+that he forgot to find out God's way of doing a certain thing. He did
+the thing that he wanted to do after a style of his own."
+
+Tessa arose and went into Miss Jewett's bedroom; she knew that the Bible
+she loved best, the one pencilled and interlined, was always kept on a
+stand near the head of her bed. While Miss Jewett was opening it, Tessa
+said hurriedly and earnestly "I knew that if it were anywhere in the
+Bible--that if any one in the world had suffered like me--that you would
+know where to find them. You said last Sunday that God had written
+something to help us in every perplexity; but I studied and studied and
+could not find any thing about second opportunities. Perhaps mine is
+only a foolish little trouble; not a grand one like David's."
+
+"Do you think that God likes to hear you say that?"
+
+"No," confessed Tessa. "I will not even think it again."
+
+"Have you forgotten how David attempted to bring the Ark into the city
+of David, and how he failed? What a mortifying and distressing failure
+it was, too. Now I'll read it to you."
+
+One of Tessa's pleasures was to listen to her reading the Bible; she
+read as if David lived across the Park, and as if the city of David were
+not a mile away.
+
+Tessa kept her head in its old position and listened with intent and
+longing eyes.
+
+"'And David consulted with the captains of thousands and hundreds and
+every leader. And David said unto all the congregation of Israel, If it
+seem good unto you, and that it be of the Lord our God, let us send
+abroad unto our brethren everywhere, that are left in all the land of
+Israel, and with them also to the priests and Levites which are in their
+cities and suburbs, that they may gather themselves together unto us:
+and let us bring again the Ark of our God to us: for we inquired not at
+it in the days of Saul. And all the congregation said that they would do
+so: for the thing was right in the eyes of all the people. So David
+gathered all Israel together from Shihor of Egypt even unto the entering
+of Hemath, to bring the Ark of God from Kirjath-jearim. And David went
+up and all Israel to Baalah, that is to Kirjath-jearim, which belonged
+to Judah, to bring up thence the Ark of God the Lord, that dwelleth
+between the cherubim whose name is called on it. And they carried the
+Ark of God in a new cart--' In a _new_ cart, Tessa; see how careful he
+was!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"'--Out of the house of Abinadab; and Uzza and Ahir drave the cart.' That
+was all right and proper, wasn't it?"
+
+"It seems so to me."
+
+"'And David and all Israel played before God with all their might, and
+with singing, and with harps, and with timbrels, and with cymbals, and
+with trumpets.' They were joyful with all their might. Were you as
+joyful as that?"
+
+"Yes: fully as joyful as that."
+
+"Now see the confusion, the shame, and the fear that followed those
+harps and timbrels and trumpets. 'And when they came unto the
+threshing-floor of Chidon, Uzza put forth his hand to hold the Ark; for
+the oxen stumbled. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzza,
+and He smote him, because he put his hand to the Ark: and he died before
+God. And David was displeased, because the Lord had made a breach upon
+Uzza: wherefore that place is called Perez-uzza, to this day. And David
+was afraid of God that day, saying, How shall I bring the Ark of God
+home to me?'"
+
+"I should think that he _would_ have been afraid," said Tessa; "and
+after he had been so sure and joyful, too."
+
+Miss Jewett read on: "'So David brought not the Ark home to himself to
+the city of David, but carried it aside to the house of Obed-edom the
+Gittite.'"
+
+Tessa raised her head to speak. "I can not understand where his mistake
+was; how could he have been too careful of such a treasure. Oh, how
+terrible and humiliating his disappointment must have been! How ashamed
+he was before all the people! I can bear any thing better than to be
+humiliated."
+
+"My poor, proud Tessa."
+
+Tessa's tears started at the tone; these first words of sympathy
+overcame her utterly; she dropped her head again and cried like a child,
+like the little child Tessa who had had so many fits of crying.
+
+The eyes above her were as wet as her own; once or twice warm lips
+touched her forehead and cheek.
+
+"Did _he_ have another opportunity?" asked Tessa, at last. "I can
+understand how afraid he was. I was troubled because I gave thanks for
+the thing that was taken away from me. Did he find an answer to his
+'How'?"
+
+"He was thankful, sincere, and careful."
+
+"I should think that was enough," exclaimed Tessa, almost indignantly;
+"but I know that there was sin somewhere, else the anger of the Lord
+would not have been kindled. They went home without the Ark. That is
+saddest of all."
+
+"It was kept three months in the house of Obed-edom, and during those
+three months humbled David studied the law and found that his cart, new
+as it was, was not according to the will of God.
+
+"'Then David said, None ought to carry the Ark of God but the Levites;
+for them hath the Lord chosen to carry the Ark of God, and to minister
+unto Him forever.'"
+
+"And he _could_ have known that before," cried Tessa.
+
+"'And David gathered all Israel together to Jerusalem, to bring up the
+Ark of the Lord unto his place, which he had prepared for it, and David
+assembled the children of Aaron and the Levites and said unto them, Ye
+are the chief of the fathers of the Levites: sanctify yourselves, both
+ye and your brethren, that ye may bring up the Ark of the Lord God of
+Israel unto the place that I have prepared for it. For because ye did it
+not at the first, the Lord our God made a breach upon us, for that we
+sought Him not after the due order."
+
+"Oh, how can we know every thing to do at the first?"
+
+"How could David have known? Now he had found the right way to do the
+right thing. 'So the priests and the Levites sanctified themselves to
+bring up the Ark of the Lord God of Israel. And the children of the
+Levites bare the Ark of God upon their shoulders with the staves thereon
+as Moses commanded, according to the word of the Lord. And David spake
+to the chief of the Levites to appoint their brethren to be the singers
+with instruments of music, psalteries and harps and cymbals, sounding,
+by lifting up the voice with joy. So David, and the elders of Israel,
+and the captains over thousands, went to bring up the Ark of the
+covenant of the Lord out of the house of Obed-edom with joy.'"
+
+"He was not afraid now," said Tessa. "I think that he was all the more
+joyful because he had been so humiliated and afraid. I will think about
+that new cart."
+
+"And those three months in which he was finding out the will of God.
+'And it came to pass, when God helped the Levites that bare the Ark of
+the covenant of the Lord that they offered seven bullocks and seven
+rams.' He could not help them the first time because their way was not
+according to His law; their joy, their thankfulness, their sincerity,
+their carefulness availed them nothing because they kept not His law.
+Uzza was a priest and should have known the law; David was king and he
+should have known the law."
+
+"But he had his second opportunity, despite his mistake."
+
+"And so, if your desire be according to His will may you have yours; it
+may be months or years, half your lifetime, but if you study His word
+and ask for your second opportunity through the intercession of Christ,
+I am sure that you will have it."
+
+"Sometimes I am angry, sometimes bewildered, sometimes there is hatred
+in my heart because I have been deceived and humiliated--sometimes I do
+not want it back--"
+
+"My dear," said Miss Jewett, gravely, "discipline is better than our
+heart's desire."
+
+"Is it? I don't like to think so."
+
+When the clock in the church-tower struck midnight Tessa lay awake
+wondering if she could ever choose discipline before any heart's desire.
+
+Then she crept closer to Miss Jewett and kissed her.
+
+
+
+
+VII.--THE LONG DAY.
+
+
+With the apple blossoms came Tessa's birthday. She had lived twenty-five
+years up-stairs and down-stairs in that white house with the lilac
+shrubbery and low iron fence. Twenty-five years with her father and
+mother, nineteen with her little sister, and almost as many with her old
+friend, Mr. Hammerton; twenty years with Laura and Felix and Miss
+Jewett, and not quite three years with the latest friend, the latest and
+the one that she had most believed in, Ralph Towne.
+
+She was counting these years and these friends as she brushed out her
+long, light hair and looked into the reflection of the fair, bright,
+thoughtful face that had come to another birthday.
+
+Nothing would ever happen to her again, she was sure; nothing ever did
+happen after one were as old as twenty-five. In novels, all the
+wonderful events occurred in earlier life, and then--a blank or bliss or
+misery, any thing that the reader might guess.
+
+Would her life henceforth be a blank because she was so old and was
+growing older?
+
+In one of her stories, Miss Mulock had stated that the experience of
+love had been given to her heroine "later than to most" and _she_ was
+twenty-four!
+
+"Not that that experience is all one's life," she mused; "but it is just
+as much to me as it is to any man or woman that ever lived; as much as
+to Cornelia, the matron with her jewels, or Vittoria Colonna, or Mrs.
+Browning, or Hypatia,--if she ever loved any body,--or Miss Jewett,--if she
+ever did,--or Sue Greyson, or Queen Victoria, or Ralph Towne's mother! I
+wonder if his father were like him, so handsome and gentle. I have a
+right to the pain and the blessedness of loving; perhaps I _have_ been
+in love--perhaps I am now! He shut the door that he had opened and he has
+gone out; I would not recall him if I could do it with one breath--
+
+ "'No harm from him can come to me
+ On ocean or on shore.'
+
+"Well," smiling into the sympathetic eyes, "if nothing new ever happen
+to me, I'll find out all the blessedness of the old."
+
+For she must always find something to be glad of before she could be
+sorrowful about any thing.
+
+She ran down-stairs in her airiest mood to be congratulated by her
+father in a humorous speech that ended with an unfinished sentence and a
+quick turning of the head, to be squeezed and hugged and kissed by
+Dinah, and dubbed Miss Twenty-Five, and then to have her mood changed,
+all in the past made dreary, and all in the future desolate, by one of
+her mother's harangues.
+
+Mr. Wadsworth had kissed his three girls and hurried off to his
+business, as he had done in all the years that Tessa could remember;
+Dinah had pushed her plate away and was leaning forward with her elbows
+on the table-cloth, her face alight with the mischief of teasing Tessa
+about being "stricken in years." Tessa's repartees were sending Dinah
+off into her little shouts of laughter when their mother's voice broke
+in:
+
+"I had been married eight years when I was your age, Tessa."
+
+"It will be nine years on my next birthday," said Tessa.
+
+"Yes, just nine; for I was married on my seventeenth birthday; your
+father met me one day coming from school and said that he would call
+that evening; I curled my hair over and put on my garnet merino and
+waited for him an hour. I expected John Gesner, too. But your father
+came first and we set the wedding-day that night. I was seventeen and he
+was thirty-seven!"
+
+"I congratulate you," said Tessa. "I congratulate the woman who married
+my father."
+
+"Girls are so different," sighed Mrs. Wadsworth. "Now _I_ had two offers
+that year! Aunt Theresa wanted me to take John Gesner because he was two
+years younger than your father; but John was only a clerk in the Iron
+Works then, and so was Lewis. Lewis is just my age. How could I tell
+that he would make a fortune buying nails?"
+
+"You would have hit the nail on the head if you had known it," laughed
+Dinah.
+
+"And here's Dine, now, _she_ is like me. You are a Wadsworth through and
+through! Young men like some life about a girl; how many beaux Sue
+Greyson has! All you think of is education! There was Cliff Manning, you
+turned the cold shoulder to him because he couldn't talk grammar. What's
+grammar? Grammar won't make the pot boil."
+
+"Enough of them would," suggested Dinah.
+
+"Mr. Towne came and came till he was tired, I suppose. I hope you didn't
+refuse him."
+
+"No, he refused me."
+
+Her tone was so gravely in earnest that her mother was staggered. Dinah
+shouted.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth went on in a voice that was gathering indignation: "You
+may laugh now; you will not always laugh. 'He that will not when he may,
+when he will he shall have nay.' Mrs. Sherwood told me yesterday that
+she hoped to have Nan Gerard back here for good, and Mary looked as if
+it were all settled. Mr. Towne did not do much _last_ winter, Mary said,
+beside run around with Naughty Nan. I'm hearing all the time of somebody
+being married or engaged, and you are doing nothing but shilly-shally
+over some book or trotting around after poor folks with Miss Jewett."
+
+"She will find a prince in a hovel some day," said Dinah. "He will be
+struck with her attitude as she is choking some bed-ridden woman with
+beef-tea and fall down on his knees and propose on the spot. 'Feed me,
+seraph,' he will cry."
+
+"He wouldn't talk grammar, or he couldn't spell or read Greek, and she
+will turn away," laughed Mrs. Wadsworth. "Tessa, you are none of my
+bringing up."
+
+"That is true," replied Tessa, the sorrowfulness of the tone softening
+its curtness.
+
+"You always _did_ care for something in a book more than for what I
+said! You never do any thing to please people; and yet, somehow,
+somebody always _is_ running after you. I wish that you _could_ go out
+into the world and get a little character; you are no more capable of
+self-denial and heroism than an infant baby; for getting along in the
+world and making a good match, I would rather have Sue Greyson's skin--"
+
+"Her father understands anatomy, perhaps you can get it, mother."
+
+"_She_ knows how to look out for number one. Her children will be
+settled in life before Tessa is engaged. You needn't laugh, Dine, it's
+her birthday, and I'm only doing a mother's duty to her."
+
+Tessa's eyes laughed although her lips were still. Her sense of humor
+helped her to bear many things in her life.
+
+"You have never had a trial in your life, Tessa, and here you are old
+enough to be a wife and mother!"
+
+"If she lived in China she could be a grandmother," said Dinah.
+
+"I have always kept trouble from you; that is why, at your mature age,
+you have so little character. In an emergency you would have no more
+responsibility than Nellie Bird. If you had studied arithmetic instead
+of always writing poetry and compositions, you might have been teaching
+now and have been independent."
+
+"Father isn't tired of taking care of her," said Dinah, spiritedly.
+"It's mean for you to say that."
+
+"Why don't you write a novel and make some money?"
+
+"I don't know how."
+
+"Can't you learn?"
+
+"I study all the time."
+
+"Why don't you write flowery language?"
+
+"I don't know how."
+
+"It is Gus that has spoiled you; he has nipped your genius in the bud.
+What does he know, a clerk in a bank? I know that he tells you to leave
+out the long words; and it is the long words that take. I shouldn't have
+had my dreadful cough winter after winter if I hadn't worked hard to
+spare your time that winter you wrote those three little books for the
+Sunday School Union; I lay all my sickness and pain to that winter."
+
+Mrs Wadsworth had brought this charge against Tessa several times
+before, but she had never shivered over it as she did this birthday
+morning.
+
+"And what did you get for them? Only a hundred dollars for the three.
+Your father made a great fuss over them, and he really cried (his tears
+come very easy) over that piece you called 'Making Mistakes.' I couldn't
+see any thing to cry over; I thought you made out that making mistakes
+was a very fine thing."
+
+"Four people from away off have written to thank her, any way," exulted
+Dinah.
+
+"People like your father I suppose."
+
+Dinah sprang up and began to rattle the cups and saucers; she could not
+bear the look in Tessa's eyes another second.
+
+"Dinah, I can't talk if you make so much noise. You are very rude."
+
+"Oh, I forgot to tell you," cried Dinah, standing still with two cups in
+her hands. "It's great fun! Nan Gerard refused Mr. John Gesner while she
+was here."
+
+"I don't believe it," exclaimed Mrs Wadsworth. "Those brothers are worth
+nearly a million."
+
+"Naughty Nan didn't care."
+
+"She'll jump out of the frying-pan into the fire, then; for the Townes,
+mother and son, are not worth a quarter of it."
+
+"What does she care? Mr. Lewis Gesner is a gentleman, and he knows
+something."
+
+"He said once that I was only a little doll," said Mrs. Wadsworth. "I
+never liked him afterward."
+
+"I like him," said Dinah; "he doesn't flirt with the girls; he always
+talks to the old ladies."
+
+"What are you going to do to-day, Tessa?" inquired Mrs. Wadsworth,
+ignoring Dinah's remark.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," she answered, "and don't care" was the unspoken
+addition.
+
+There was one thing she was sure to do. On her way to the ten o'clock
+mail she would take a moment with Miss Jewett for a word, a look; for
+something to set her heart to beating to a cheerier tune. Ten minutes
+before mail time she found Miss Jewett as busy as a bee.
+
+"Oh, Tessa," glancing up from her desk, "I knew you would come. I had a
+good crying spell on my twenty-fifth birthday and I've looked through
+clear eyes ever since. I wish for you that your second quarter may be as
+full of hard work as mine."
+
+Tessa felt as if the sun were shining warm again. At the office she
+received her birthday present; the one thing that she most wished for;
+if ever birthday face were in a glow and birthday heart set to dancing,
+hers were when her fingers held the check for one hundred and
+sixty-eight dollars and fifty cents, and when her eyes ran through the
+brief, friendly letter, with its two lines of praise.
+
+"I am taken with your book. It gives me a humbling-down feeling. I
+hardly know why."
+
+"Oh, it's too good! it's too good," she cried, with her head close to
+Miss Jewett's at the desk over the large day-book. "I was feeling as if
+nobody cared, and now he wants another book. As good as this, he says."
+
+Tessa lived in fairy-land for the next two hours. No, she lived in
+Dunellen on a happy birthday.
+
+"Well! well! well!" exclaimed her father, taking off his spectacles to
+wipe his eyes, "this is what I call fine. So this is what you grew pale
+over last winter," he added, looking down into a face as rosy and wide
+awake as a child's waking out of sleep.
+
+"What shall you do with so much money?"
+
+"Spend it, of course. I have spent it already a hundred times."
+
+"You must return receipt and reply to the letter."
+
+"I had forgotten that."
+
+"You will find every thing on my desk. Write your name on the back of
+the check and I will give you the money."
+
+"I don't want to do that. I want to take it into the bank and surprise
+Gus with it. His face will be worth another check."
+
+She wrote her name upon the check, her father standing beside her.
+Theresa L. Wadsworth. He was very proud of this name among his three
+girls.
+
+"And you expect to do this thing again?"
+
+"I do. Many times. All I want is a nook and a lead pencil."
+
+"Daughter, I would like something else better."
+
+"I wouldn't. Nothing else. I shall not change my mind even for a knight
+in helmet and helmet feather."
+
+Mr. Hammerton's face _was_ worth another check; he looked down at her
+from his high stool in a grave, paternal fashion. She remained
+decorously silent.
+
+"How women _do_ like to spend money," he said. "At six o'clock you will
+not have a penny left."
+
+"How can I? Father is to have a farm in Mayfield, mother is to go to
+Europe, and Dine is to have diamond ear-rings!"
+
+"And I?"
+
+"I will buy you a month to go fishing! And myself brains enough to write
+a better book. Isn't it comical for me to get more for my book than
+Milton got for Paradise Lost?"
+
+Tessa laughed as she counted her money at tea-time; there was a twenty
+dollar bill and seventy-five cents! But in her mother's chamber stood a
+suite of black-walnut with marble tops, in one of Dine's drawers,
+materials for a black and white striped silk, on the sitting-room table
+a copy of Shakespeare in three Turkey morocco volumes, for her father;
+she had also sent a gold thimble to Sue Greyson, several volumes of
+Ruskin to Mr. Hammerton, Barnes on _Job_ to Miss Jewett, and had
+purchased a ream of foolscap, a pint of ink, a pair of gloves, and _The
+Scarlet Letter_ for herself!
+
+"Is there any thing left in the world that you want?" her father asked.
+
+"Yes, but twenty dollars will not buy it," she replied, thinking of Dr.
+Lake's anxious face as she had seen it that day.
+
+At night, alone in the darkness, there were a few tears that no one
+would ever know about. Her joy in her accepted work was nothing to Ralph
+Towne. He did not know about her book and if he knew--would he care?
+
+
+
+
+VIII.--A NOTE OUT OF TUNE.
+
+
+The blossom storm came and blew away the apple blossoms, the heavy
+fragrance of the lilacs died, and the shrubbery became again only a mass
+of green leaves and ugly, crooked stems; but amid this, something
+happened to Tessa; something that was worth as much to her as any
+happenings that came before it; something that had its beginning when
+she was a little school-girl running along the planks and teasing Felix
+Harrison. How much certain jarring words spoken that day and how much a
+certain bit of news influenced this happening, she, in her rigid
+self-analysis, could not determine!
+
+She arose from the breakfast table at the same instant with her father,
+saying: "Father, I will walk to the corner with you."
+
+"We were two souls with one thought," he replied. "I intended to ask you
+for a few minutes."
+
+They crossed the street to the planks. She slipped her arm through his,
+and as he took the fingers on his arm with a warm grasp, she said; "I
+never want any lover but you, my dear old father."
+
+"Nonsense, child! Only girls who have had a heart-break say such things
+to their old fathers, and your heart is as good as new, I am sure.
+Tessa, I want to see you married before I die."
+
+"May you live till you see me married," she answered merrily. "What an
+old mummy you will be!"
+
+"I have been thinking of something that I want to say to you. I am an
+old man and I am not young for my age--"
+
+"Now, father."
+
+"I may live a hundred years, of course, and grow heartier each year, and
+like the 'frisky old girl,' die at the age of one hundred and ten, and
+'die by a fall from a cherry-tree then,' but, still there's a chance
+that I may not. And now, Daughter Tessa"--his voice became as grave as
+her eyes, "I want you to promise me that you will always take care of
+your poor little mother; poor little mother! You are never sharp to her
+like saucy Dine, and she rests in you like an acorn in an acorn cup,
+although she would be the last to confess it."
+
+"I promise to do my best," Tessa said very earnestly.
+
+"But that is only a part of it. Promise me that if she wishes to marry
+again, and her choice be one that _you_ approve--"
+
+"Approve!"
+
+"Approve," he repeated, "that you will not hinder but rather further it,
+and keep Dine from making her unhappy about it."
+
+"I will not promise. You shall not die," she cried passionately. "How
+can you talk so and break my heart?"
+
+"Dr. Watts says that we all begin to die as soon as we are born, so I
+have had to do it pretty thoroughly; but he was a theologian and not a
+medical man. Have you promised?"
+
+"Yes, sir," speaking very quietly, "I have promised."
+
+With her hand upon his arm, they kept even step for ten silent minutes.
+
+"Are you writing again?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then you must walk every day."
+
+"Oh, I do, rain or shine. I am going down the road this afternoon to
+look at the wheat fields and the oat fields and to see the boys and
+girls dropping corn!"
+
+"And to wish that you were a little girl dropping corn?"
+
+"No, indeed," she said earnestly and solemnly. "I like my own life
+better than any life I ever knew in a book or out of a book."
+
+"When I count up my mercies I'll remember that."
+
+She was dwelling upon those words of her father late that afternoon as
+she sauntered homeward with her hands full of wild flowers and grasses.
+
+"Mystic, will you ride with me?"
+
+A feeling of warmth and of tenderness ever crept into her heart at the
+sound of this voice.
+
+She loved Dr. Lake.
+
+"No, sir, thank you; I am out for a walk and when I walk I never ride."
+
+"But I want to talk to you--to tell you something." She stepped nearer
+and stood at the carriage wheel; his voice was sharp and his white
+temples hollow. "Sue has refused me," he began with a laugh. "I proposed
+last night, and what do you think she said? 'Why, Dr. Lake, you are
+poor, and you smell of medicine.'"
+
+"They are both true," she said, not conscious of what reply she was
+making.
+
+"Yes," he answered bitterly, "they are both true and will _be_ true
+until the end of time. Don't you think that you could reason with her
+and change her mind; you have influence." He laid his gloved hand on the
+hand that rested on the wheel. "It will kill me, Mystic, if she doesn't
+marry me."
+
+So weak, so pitiful! She could have cried. And all for love of flighty
+Sue Greyson!
+
+"I was sure that she would accept me. She has done every thing _but_
+accept me. I did not know that a woman would permit a man to take her
+day after day into his arms and kiss her unless she intended to marry
+him. Would _you_ permit that?" he asked.
+
+"You know that I would not," she answered proudly; "but Sue doesn't know
+any better; all she cares for is the 'fun' of the moment."
+
+"I have been hoping so long; since Towne went away; I can't bear this."
+
+"There is as much strength for you as for any of us," she said gently.
+
+"But I am too weak to hold it."
+
+And he looked too weak to hold it. She could not lift her full eyes. "I
+am so sorry," was all she could speak.
+
+"There isn't any thing worth living for anyway; I, for one, am not
+thankful for my 'creation.' I wish I was dead and buried and out of
+sight forever. Sue Greyson has another offer to whisper to all Dunellen.
+I would not stay here, I would go back to that wretched hospital, but my
+engagement with her father extends through another year. Well, you won't
+ride home with me?"
+
+"Not to-day, I want to be out in this air."
+
+"And you don't want to be shut in here with my growling. I don't blame
+you; I'd run away from myself if I could. I'll kill half Dunellen and
+all Mayfield with overdoses before another night, and then take a big
+dose myself. Say, Mystic, you are posted in these things, where would be
+the harm?"
+
+"Take it and see."
+
+"Not yet awhile. I am not sure of many things, but I _am_ sure that a
+man's life in this world will stare in his face in the next. And my life
+has not been fit even for your eyes."
+
+Homely, shabby, old, worn, excited, with a sharp ring in his voice and a
+stoop in his shoulders. What was there in him to touch Sue Greyson?
+Where was the first point of sympathy?
+
+Tessa could have taken him into her arms and cared for him as she would
+have cared for a child.
+
+"I have just seen an old man die; a good old man; he was over ninety; he
+prayed to the last; that is his lips moved and his old wife laid his
+hands together; he liked to clasp his hands when he prayed, she said.
+She put her ear down close to his mouth, but she could not distinguish
+the words. I was wishing that I could go in his place, and that he could
+take up my life and live it through for me. He would do better with it
+than I shall."
+
+"Is not that rather selfish?"
+
+"Life is such a sham. I don't believe in the transmigration of souls; I
+don't want to come back and pull through another miserable existence."
+
+"I want you to stay this soul in this body; I do not want to lose you."
+
+"If every woman in the world were like you--"
+
+"And every man were as tired and hungry as you--"
+
+"What would he do?"
+
+"He would hurry home to a good, hot dinner."
+
+"I have not eaten or drank since yesterday morning. Sue has a hot dinner
+waiting for me. She will sit with me while I eat, and tell me, perhaps,
+that she has had a letter from that fellow in Philadelphia, or that that
+well-preserved specimen of manhood, old John Gesner, has asked her to
+drive with him. Some flirtation of hers is sauce to every dish."
+
+"Poor Sue," sighed Tessa.
+
+"She might be happy if she would; I would take care of her."
+
+"Good-by," squeezing his fingers through his glove. "Go home and eat."
+
+"Give me a good word before I go."
+
+"Wait."
+
+"Is that the best word you know?"
+
+"It is good enough."
+
+"Well, good day, Mystic," he said, lifting his hat.
+
+She went back to the grassy wayside, thinking. What right had Sue
+Greyson's light fingers to meddle with a life like Dr. Lake's? They had
+not one taste in common. How could he find her attractive? She disliked
+every thing in which he was interested; it was true that she could sing,
+sing like one of the wild birds down in the woods, and he loved music.
+
+She paused and stood leaning against the rails of a fence, and looked
+across the green acres of winter wheat; one day in September she had
+stood there watching the men as they were drilling the wheat; afterward
+she had seen the tender, green blades springing up in straight rows, and
+once she had seen the whole field green beneath a light snow. The wind
+moved her veil slightly, both hands were drooping as her elbows leaned
+upon the upper rail, her cheeks were tinged with the excitement of Dr.
+Lake's words, and her eyes suffused with a mist that was too sorrowful
+to drop with tears. A quick step on the grass at her side did not
+startle her; she did not stir until a voice propounded gravely: "If a
+man should be born with two heads, on which forehead must he wear the
+phylactery?"
+
+She turned with a laugh. "Gus, I would know that was you if I heard the
+voice and the question in the Great Desert."
+
+"Can't you decide?"
+
+"My thoughts were not nonsense."
+
+"Of course not, you were labelling and pigeon holing all that you have
+thought of since sunrise! I've been sitting on a stone waiting for your
+conference to end. Are you in the habit of meeting strange men and
+conversing with them."
+
+"Yes, I came out to meet you."
+
+"I only wish you did! I wish that you would make a stranger of me and be
+polite to me. It is nothing new for you to be wandering on a Saturday
+afternoon, and nothing new for you to find me."
+
+"I didn't find you."
+
+"I intended to give you the honor of the discovery; now we will share
+the glory. Shall we go on?"
+
+"I have been to my roots; do you know my roots? Do you know the corner
+above Old Place and the tiny stream?"
+
+"I know every corner, and every root, and every stream. Shall I carry
+your flowers for you? I never can see why I should relieve a maiden of a
+burden when her avoirdupois equals mine. You will not give them to me? I
+have something to read to you--something of my own composing--I composed
+it in one brilliant wakeful moment--you will appreciate it."
+
+"I do not believe it."
+
+"Wait until you hear it. Lady Blue, are you going to be literary and
+never be married! Woe to the day when I taught you all you know."
+
+They went on, slowly, for she liked to talk to Mr. Hammerton. "Father
+said something like that this morning and it troubled me; why may I not
+do as I like best? Why should he care to see me married before he dies?"
+
+"Why should he not?"
+
+"Nonsense. I can take good care of myself; beside," with a mischievous
+glance into his serious eyes, "I really don't know whom to marry."
+
+"Oh, you could easily find some one. If all else fail, come to me, and
+if I am not too busy I will take you into consideration."
+
+"Thanks, good friend! But you will always be too busy. What have you to
+read to me?"
+
+"Something that you will appreciate. I wrote it for you. Stay, sit down,
+while I read it."
+
+"I don't want to. You can read and walk. The mother of Mrs. Hemans could
+read aloud while walking up hill."
+
+Mr. Hammerton's voice was not pleasant to a stranger, but Tessa liked it
+because it belonged to him; it was a part of him like his big nose, his
+spectacles, and the tiny bald spot over which, every day, he carefully
+brushed his hair. The color in his cheeks was as pretty as a girl's, and
+so was the delicate whiteness of his forehead; the bushy mustache,
+however, made amends for the complexion that he sometimes regretted;
+Tessa had once told him that his big nose, his mustache, and his
+awkwardness were all that kept him from being as pretty as his sister.
+
+"I am not the mother of Mrs. Hemans." He took a sheet of paper from his
+pocket-book, and showed her the poem written in his peculiarly plain,
+upright hand.
+
+"Excuse my singing and I will read. You must not think of any thing
+else."
+
+"I will not."
+
+"You are walking too fast."
+
+She obediently took slower steps.
+
+He cleared his throat and, holding the paper near his eyes, began to
+read. A shadow gathered in his listener's eyes at the first four lines.
+
+ "A nightingale made a mistake;
+ She sang a few notes out of tune,
+ Her heart was ready to break,
+ And she hid from the moon.
+
+ "She wrung her claws, poor thing,
+ But was far too proud to speak;
+ She tucked her head under her wing,
+ And pretended to be asleep.
+
+ "A lark arm in arm with a thrush,
+ Came sauntering up to the place;
+ The nightingale felt herself blush,
+ Though feathers hid her face.
+
+ "She knew they had heard her song,
+ She felt them snicker and sneer.
+ She thought this life was too long,
+ And wished she could skip a year.
+
+ "'O, nightingale!' cooed a dove,
+ O, nightingale, what's the use;
+ You bird of beauty and love,
+ Why behave like a goose?
+
+ "'Don't skulk away from our sight,
+ Like a common, contemptible fowl;
+ You bird of joy and delight,
+ Why behave like an owl?
+
+ "'Only think of all you have done;
+ Only think of all you can do;
+ A false note is really fun
+ From such a bird as you.
+
+ "'Lift up your proud little crest:
+ Open your musical beak;
+ Other birds have to do their best,
+ You need only to speak.'
+
+ "The nightingale shyly took
+ Her head from under her wing,
+ And giving the dove a look,
+ Straightway began to sing.
+
+ "There was never a bird could pass;
+ The night was divinely calm;
+ And the people stood on the grass,
+ To hear that wonderful psalm!
+
+ "The nightingale did not care,
+ She only sang to the skies;
+ Her song ascended there,
+ And there she fixed her eyes.
+
+ "The people that stood below
+ She knew but little about;
+ And this story's a moral, I know,
+ If you'll try to find it out."
+
+"How did you know that I need that?" she asked, taking it from his hand.
+"Who wrote it?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"Don't you know?"
+
+"No. I don't know. I copied it for you."
+
+"Thank you. I thank you very much. You could not have brought me any
+thing better."
+
+"I brought you a piece of news, too."
+
+"As good as the poem?"
+
+"Nan Gerard thinks so. She is to be married and to live at Old Place;
+our castle in the air."
+
+"Old Place isn't my castle in the air. Who told you?"
+
+"A woman's question. I never told a woman a secret yet that she did not
+reply, 'Who told you?' Mary Sherwood told me, of course. Do you
+congratulate Naughty Nan?"
+
+"Must I?"
+
+"It's queer that I do not know that man. I have missed an introduction a
+thousand times. Do you congratulate her?"
+
+"I am supposed to congratulate _him_. He is very lovable."
+
+"I thought that only women were that."
+
+"That's an admission," laughed Tessa, "you cross old bachelor."
+
+"You learned that from Dine."
+
+"No, I learned it from you."
+
+Tessa talked rapidly and lightly, perhaps, because she did not feel like
+talking at all.
+
+Would he marry Nan Gerard? Why could she not be glad for Nan Gerard? Why
+must she be just a little sorry for herself? Why must it make a
+difference to her? Why must the weight of the flowers be too heavy for
+her hand, and why must she give them that toss over a fence across a
+field?
+
+"Your pretty flowers," expostulated Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"I do not care for them; they were withering."
+
+"I have a thought; I wonder why it should come to me; I am wondering if
+you and I walk together here a year from to-day what we shall be talking
+about. My prophetic soul reveals to me that a year makes a difference
+sometimes."
+
+"I remember a year ago to-day," she answered. "A year _has_ made a
+difference."
+
+"Not to you or me?"
+
+"To Nan Gerard?" she answered seriously.
+
+"But that does not affect us."
+
+Did it not? A year ago to-day Ralph Towne had brought her some English
+violets, and she had pressed them and thrown a thought about him and
+about them into a poem. To-day had he taken violets to Nan Gerard?
+
+"Lady Blue; you are absent-minded."
+
+"Am I? I was only labelling and pigeon-holing a thought; it is to be
+laid away to moulder with the dust of ages."
+
+"A thought that can not be spoken?"
+
+"A thought that it was folly to think, and that would be worse than
+folly to speak."
+
+If he replied she did not hear; they sauntered on, she keeping the path
+and he walking on the grass.
+
+A carriage passed, driving slowly. The two ladies within watched the
+pedestrians,--a fair-faced girl with thoughtful eyes, and a tall man with
+an intellectual face,--as if they were a part of the landscape of the
+spring.
+
+ "'In the spring a young man's fancy--'"
+
+laughingly quoted one of them.
+
+"Will she accept or refuse him?" asked the other.
+
+"If she do either it will be once and forever," was the reply seriously
+given. "Did you notice her mouth? She has been very much troubled, but
+she can be made very glad."
+
+After the carriage had passed, Mr. Hammerton spoke, "I am glad we amused
+those people; they failed to decide whether or not we are lovers."
+
+"They have very little penetration, then," said Tessa. "I am too languid
+and you are too unconscious."
+
+"There is nothing further to be said; you do not know what you have
+nipped in the bud."
+
+"I suppose we never know that."
+
+Dinah met them at the gate, her wind-blown curls and laughing eyes in
+striking contrast to the older face that had lost all its color. Tessa
+did not see that Mr. Hammerton's eyes were studying the change in her
+face; she had no more care of the changes in her face with him than with
+Dinah.
+
+"I'll be in about eight," he said to Dinah, as Tessa brushed past him to
+enter the gate.
+
+Another thing that influenced impressible Tessa this day, was a talk at
+the tea-table. They were sitting around the tea-table cozily, the four
+people who, in her mother's thought, constituted all Tessa's world. Mr.
+Wadsworth in an easy position in his arm-chair was listening to his
+three girls and deciding that his little wife was really the handsomest
+and sprightliest woman that he had ever seen, that happy little Dine was
+as bewitching as she could well be, and that Tessa, the light of his
+eyes, was like no one else in all the world. Not that any stranger
+sitting in his arm-chair would have looked through his eyes, but he was
+an old man, disappointed in his life, and his three girls were all of
+earth and a part of heaven to him. They were all talking and he was
+satisfied to listen. "I believe that some girls are born without a
+mother's heart," Mrs. Wadsworth said in reply to a story of Dine's about
+a young mother in Dunellen who had slapped her baby, saying that she
+hated it and was nothing but a slave to it! "Now, here's Tessa. _She_
+has no motherliness. Only this morning Freddie Stone fell down near the
+gate and hurt his head; his screams were terrifying, but she went on
+working and let him scream. As I said it is all as girls are born."
+
+"Yes," answered Tessa, in the deliberate way in which she had schooled
+herself to reply to her mother, "I know that your last assertion is
+true. There was a lady in school, a teacher of mathematics, she
+acknowledged that she did not love her own little girls as other mothers
+seemed to do. She stated it as she would have stated any fact in
+geometry; perhaps she thought that she was no more responsible for one
+than for the other. The mere fact of motherhood does not bring mother
+love within; any mother that does not give to her child a true idea of
+the mother-heart of God fails utterly in being a mother. She may be a
+nurse, a paid nurse, or a nurse upon compulsion; any hired nurse can
+wash a child's face, can tie its sash and make pretty things for it to
+wear, and _any_ nurse, who was never mother to a child, can teach it
+what God means when He says, 'as a mother comforteth.' Miss Jewett could
+not be happier in her Bible class girls if they were all her own
+children; she says so herself. Mary Sherwood said to her one day, 'If my
+mother were like you, how different I should have been!'"
+
+"Such a case is an exception," returned Mrs. Wadsworth excitedly.
+
+"Nineteen out of her twenty-three girls tell her their troubles when
+they would not tell their own mothers," said Dinah. "She has
+twenty-three secret drawers to keep their secrets in."
+
+"She has time to listen to fol-de-rol. She advises them all to marry for
+some silly notion and let a good home slip, I've no doubt."
+
+"I expect that twenty-one of her girls have refused John Gesner,"
+laughed Mr. Wadsworth. "He will have to bribe Miss Jewett to let them
+alone."
+
+"Only twenty, father," said Dine. "Tessa and Sue and I are waiting to do
+it."
+
+"I will make this house too uncomfortable for the one of you that does
+refuse him."
+
+"Mother! mother!" remonstrated Mr. Wadsworth gently.
+
+"He'll never have the honor," said Dine. "Mr. Lewis Gesner is the
+gentleman; I have always admired him. Haven't you, Tessa?"
+
+"Yes; I like to shake hands with him; he has a trustworthy face."
+
+"So much for the mothers of Dunellen, Tessa; how about the fathers?
+Would the girls like to have Miss Jewett for a father, too?"
+
+"Oh, the fathers have the bread-winning to do. If the mothers do not
+understand, we can not expect the fathers to understand. There was a
+girl at school who had had a hard home experience; she told me that she
+never repeated the second word of the Lord's prayer; that she said
+instead: Our Lord, who art in heaven?"
+
+"Oh, deary me! How dreadful!" cried Dinah, moving nearer the arm-chair
+and dropping her head on her father's shoulder. "Didn't she _ever_ learn
+to say it?"
+
+"Not while we were at school."
+
+"Tessa, you can talk," said her mother.
+
+"Yes," said Tessa, humbly, "I can talk."
+
+"She was a very wicked girl," continued Mrs. Wadsworth. "I don't see how
+she dared; I should think that she would have been afraid of dying in
+her sleep as a judgment sent upon her."
+
+"Perhaps she did not repeat the prayer as a charm," answered Tessa, in
+her clearest tones.
+
+Dinah lifted her head to laugh.
+
+"You upheld her, no doubt," declared Mrs. Wadsworth.
+
+"I sympathized with her as they who never had a pain can feel for the
+sick," said Tessa, smiling into her father's eyes.
+
+"How did you talk to her?" asked Dine.
+
+"What is talk? I only told her to wait and she would know."
+
+"It's easy to talk," said Mrs. Wadsworth uncomfortably. "You can talk an
+hour about sympathy, but you didn't run out to Freddie Stone."
+
+"Why didn't you?" inquired her father seriously.
+
+Tessa laughed, while Dine answered.
+
+"Mother was there talking as fast as she could talk, Bridget was there
+with a basin of water and a sponge, Mrs. Bird had run over, a carriage
+with two ladies, a coachman and a footman had stopped to look on, and
+oh, I was there too. He was somewhat bloody."
+
+"You are excused, daughter. Save your energies for a time of greater
+need."
+
+"Energies! Need!" tartly exclaimed Mrs. Wadsworth. "If she begins to be
+literary, she will care for nothing else."
+
+"I see no evidence of a lessening interest yet," replied her father.
+
+"Oh, I might know that you would encourage her. She might as well have
+the small-pox as far as her prospects go! A needle is a woman's weapon."
+
+"You forget her tongue, mother," suggested Dine. "Oh, Tessa, what is
+that about a needle; Mrs. Browning says it."
+
+Tessa repeated:
+
+ "'A woman takes a housewife from her breast,
+ And plucks the delicatest needle out
+ As 'twere a rose, and pricks you carefully
+ 'Neath nails, 'neath eyelids, in your nostrils,--say,
+ A beast would roar so tortured--but a man,
+ A human creature, must not, shall not flinch,
+ No, not for shame.'"
+
+"Some woman wrote that when she'd have done better to be sewing for her
+husband, I'll warrant," commented Mrs. Wadsworth. Mr. Wadsworth looked
+grave.
+
+"Oh she had a literary husband," replied Tessa, mischievously. "A word
+that rhymed with supper would do instead of bread and butter; and he
+cared more for one of her poems than he did for his buttons."
+
+"Literary men don't grow on every bush; and they don't take to literary
+women, either," said her mother.
+
+"Mother, you forget the Howitts, William and Mary; what good, good times
+they have taking long walks and writing; like you and Gus, Tessa, and
+Mr. and Mrs. Browning--"
+
+"You don't find such people in Dunellen; _we_ live in Dunellen. Gus will
+choose a woman that doesn't care for books, and so will Mr. Towne, mark
+my words! And so will Felix Harrison, even if he is killing himself with
+study."
+
+"He is improving greatly," said Mr. Wadsworth, pulling one of Dine's
+long curls straight. "He is going away Monday to finish his studies."
+
+"I honor him," said Tessa, flushing slightly.
+
+"Don't," said Dine, "he sha'n't have you, Tessa. Don't honor him."
+
+"That's all you and your father think of--keeping Tessa. She needs the
+wear and tear of married life to give her character."
+
+"It's queer about that," rejoined Tessa in a perplexed tone, playing
+with her napkin ring. "If such discipline _be_ the best, why is any
+woman permitted to be without it? Why does not the fitting husband
+appear as soon as the girl begins to wish for him? In the East, where it
+is shameful for a girl not to be married at eleven, I have yet to learn
+that the wives are noted for strength or beauty of character."
+
+"You may talk," said her mother, heatedly, "but two years hence _you_
+will dance in a brass kettle."
+
+"I hope that I shall work in it," answered Tessa, coloring painfully,
+however. Whether her lips were touched with a slight contempt, or
+tremulous because she was very, very much hurt, Dinah could not decide;
+she was silent because she could not think of any thing sharp enough to
+reply; she never liked to be _too_ saucy.
+
+Mr. Wadsworth spoke in his genial voice: "It's a beautiful thing,
+daughters, to help a good man live a good life."
+
+Dinah thought: "I would love to do such a beautiful thing." Tessa was
+saying to herself, "Oh, what should I do if my father were to die!"
+
+Mr. Wadsworth pushed back his chair, went around to his wife and kissed
+her. Tessa loved him for it.
+
+"You have helped a good man, a good old man, haven't you, fairy?" he
+said, smoothing the hair that was as pretty as Dinah's.
+
+"Yes," answered his wife, and Tessa shivered from head to foot. "People
+all said that you were a different man after you were married."
+
+"I'm going over to Norah's," cried Dinah. "I told her that I would come
+to write our French together. And, oh, father! I forgot to tell you, Gus
+will be in about eight."
+
+"I don't know that I care for chess; I can not concentrate my attention
+as I could a year ago."
+
+"Why do you run off if he is coming?" asked Mrs. Wadsworth.
+
+"He comes too often to be attended to," Dine answered. "Won't you be
+around, Tessa?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+Tessa had resolved to give the evening to writing letters, and was
+passing through the dining-room with a china candlestick in her hand,
+when her father, reading Shakespeare at the round table, on which stood
+a shaded lamp, detained her by catching at her dress.
+
+"Set your light down, daughter, and stay a moment."
+
+With her hand upon his shoulder, she looked down over the page he was
+reading:
+
+ "'Heaven doth with us as we with torches do;
+ Not light them for themselves--'"
+
+she read aloud.
+
+"I made my will to-day," he said quietly; "that is, I changed it. Lewis
+Gesner and Gus Hammerton, my tried friends, were in the office at the
+time. If you ever need a friend, daughter, any thing done for you that
+Gus can not do--I count on him as the friend of my girls for life--go to
+Lewis Gesner."
+
+"I don't want a friend; I have you."
+
+"If I should tell your mother about the will she would go into
+hysterics, and Dine would be sure that I am going to die; I have divided
+my little all equally among my three. That is, all but this house and
+garden, which I have given to my elder daughter, Theresa Louise. It is
+to be hers solely, without any gainsaying. Your mother will fume when
+the fact is made known to her, but I give it to you that my three girls
+may always have a roof, humble though it be, over their heads. The old
+man did not know how to make money, but he left them enough to be
+comfortable all their lives there was never any need that his wife
+should worry and work, or that his daughter should marry for a home.
+Very good record for the old man; eh, daughter?"
+
+She laid her cheek against the bald forehead and put both arms around
+his neck.
+
+"And, Tessa, child, your mother is half right about you; don't have any
+notions about marriage; promise me that you will marry--for you will,
+some day--but for the one best reason."
+
+"What is that?" she asked roguishly. "How am I to know?"
+
+"What do you think?"
+
+"Because somebody needs me and I can do him good."
+
+"A Hottentot might urge that; you will find the reason in time. Don't
+make an idol; that is your temperament."
+
+"I know it."
+
+"And above all things don't sacrifice yourself; few men appreciate being
+done good to! I know men, they are terribly human. Gus Hammerton is a
+fine fellow."
+
+"_He_ is terribly human," she answered with a little laugh.
+
+"Am I harsh towards your mother ever, do you think?" he asked in a
+changed tone.
+
+"Why, _no_," she exclaimed in surprise.
+
+"I used to be. I tried to mould her. Don't _you_ ever try to mould any
+body; now run away to your work or to your book! Don't sigh over me, I
+am 'well and hearty.' How short my life seems when I look back. Such
+dreams as I had. It's all right, though."
+
+She could not run away, for the door-bell, in answer to a most decided
+pull, detained her; she opened it, expecting to see Mr. Hammerton, but
+to her surprise, and but slightly to her pleasure, Felix Harrison stood
+there in broad-shouldered health.
+
+"Good evening," she said with some bewilderment.
+
+"Do I startle you?" he asked in the old gracious, winning manner. "May I
+come in?"
+
+"I am very glad to see you. Will you walk into my parlor, Mr. Fly?"
+
+The one tall candle in the china candlestick was the only light in the
+room. She set it upon the table, saying, "Excuse me, and I will bring a
+light, that we may the better look at each other. The light of other
+days is hardly sufficient."
+
+"It is enough for me," he said, pushing the ottoman towards one of the
+low arm-chairs. "Sit down and I will take the ottoman. The parrot
+recognizes me."
+
+Her hand moved nervously on the arm of her chair; the hand was larger
+now than when it had spilled ink on his copy-book, larger even than when
+it had written her first, shy, proud, indignant refusal.
+
+"You are not the tempest you used to be," he said smiling after a survey
+of her face.
+
+"_Wasn't_ I a tempest? I have outgrown my little breezes. In time I may
+become as gentle as a zephyr."
+
+"You always were gentle enough."
+
+"Not to you."
+
+"Not to me when I tormented you."
+
+"Probably I should not be gentle if I were tormented now."
+
+She had never decided to which of the five thousand shades of green
+Felix Harrison's eyes belonged; they were certainly green; one of the
+English poets had green eyes, she wondered if they were like Felix
+Harrison's. To-night they glittered as if they were no color at all.
+This face beside her was a spiritualized face; a strong mouth as sweet
+as a woman's, a round benevolent chin; a low, square forehead; hair as
+light as her own; his side face as he turned at least five years younger
+than the full face; she had often laughed at his queer fashion of
+growing old and growing young. At times, in the years when they were
+more together than of late, he had changed so greatly that, after not
+having seen him for several days she had passed him in the street
+without recognition; these times had been in those indignant times after
+she had refused him; that they were more than indignant times to him she
+was made painfully aware by these changes in his rugged face.
+
+"I have been thinking over those foolish times," she said, breaking the
+silence. "I am glad that you came in to-night; I am in a mood for
+confessing my wrong-doings; I have said many quick words; you know you
+always had the talent for irritating me."
+
+"Yes, I always worried you."
+
+"You did not intend to," she said hastily, watching the movement of his
+lips; "we did not understand, that is all. It takes longer than a summer
+and a winter for heart to answer to heart."
+
+"We have known each other many summers and many winters."
+
+"And now we are old, sensible, hard-working people; having given up all
+nonsense we are discovering the sense there is in sense."
+
+He turned his face with a listening look in his eyes.
+
+"Did not some one come in? Shall we be disturbed?"
+
+"Not unless we wish to be. It is only Mr. Hammerton, he is a great
+friend of father's. He renews his youth in him."
+
+"Is he not _your_ friend?"
+
+How well she remembered his suspicious, exacting questions!
+
+"He is my best friend," she said proudly.
+
+"I wish I was in heaven," he said, his voice grown weak. "Every thing
+goes wrong with me; every thing has gone wrong all my life. Father is in
+a rage because I will not stay home; he offered me to-day the deed for
+two hundred acres as a bribe. I should be stronger to-day but that he
+worked my life out when I was a growing boy."
+
+"A country life is best for you. Your old homestead is the loveliest
+place around, with its deep eaves and dormer-windows and vines. That
+wide hall is one of my pleasant recollections, and the porch that looks
+into the garden, the blue hills away off, and the cool woods, the
+thrushes and the robins and the whip-poor-will at twilight; that
+solitary note sets me to crying, or it used to when I dreamed dreams and
+told them to Laura! I hope that Laura will love the place too well to
+leave it; it is my ideal of a home; much more than splendid Old Place
+is."
+
+"I will stay if you will come and live in it with me," he said quietly.
+
+"I like my own home better," she answered as quietly. "Are you stronger
+than you were?"
+
+"Much stronger. I have not had one of those attacks since March. Lake
+warns me; but I am twice the man that he is! How he coughed last winter!
+I haven't any thing to live for, anyway."
+
+"It is very weak for you to say that."
+
+"Whose fault is it that I am so weak? Whose fault is it that my life is
+spoiled? You have spoiled every thing for me by playing fast and loose
+with me."
+
+"I never did that," she answered indignantly. "You accuse me
+wrongfully."
+
+"Every time you speak to me or look at me you give me hope; an hour with
+you I live on for months. O, Tessa," dropping his head in both hands, "I
+have loved you all my life."
+
+"I know it," she said solemnly. "Can't you be brave and bear it?"
+
+"I _am_ bearing it. I am bearing it and it is killing me. You never had
+the water ebb and flow, ebb and flow when you were dying of thirst.
+Women can not suffer; they are heartless, all their heart is used in
+causing men to suffer. A touch of your hand, the color in your cheek, a
+dropping of your eyes, talks to me and tells me a lie; and then you go
+up-stairs and kneel down to Him, who is the truth-maker! You are a
+covenant-breaker. You have looked at me scores of times as if you loved
+me; you have told me that you like to be with me; and when I come to you
+and ask you like a man to become my wife, you blush and falter, and
+answer like a woman--_no_. I beg your pardon--"
+
+The tears stood in her eyes but would not fall.
+
+"I did not come here to upbraid you. I did not start from home with the
+intention of coming; but I saw you through the window with your arms
+around your father's neck and I thought, 'Her heart is soft to-night;
+she will listen to me.' I was drawn in, as you always draw me, against
+my better judgment. I shall not trouble you again; I am going away.
+Tessa," suddenly snatching both hands, "if you are so sorry for me, why
+can't you love me?"
+
+"I don't know," not withdrawing her hands, "something hinders. I honor
+you. I admire you. Your love for me is a great rest to me; I want to
+wrap myself up in it and go to sleep; I do not want to give it up--no one
+else loves me, and I _do_ want somebody to love me."
+
+"I will love you; only let me. Marry me and I will stay at home; I will
+do for you all that a human heart and two human hands can do; I will
+_be_ to you all that you will help me to be."
+
+"But I do not want to marry you," she said perplexed. "I should have to
+give up too much. I love my home and the people in it better than I love
+you."
+
+"I will not take you away; you shall have them all; you shall come to
+them and they shall come to you; remember that I have never loved any
+one but you--" the great tears were rolling down his cheeks. "I am not
+worth it; I am not worthy to speak to you, or even to hold your hands
+like this." He broke down utterly, sobbing wearily and excitedly.
+
+"Don't, oh, don't," she cried hurriedly. "I may grow to love you if you
+want me to so much, and you are good and true, I can believe every word
+you say--not soon--in two or three years perhaps."
+
+His tears were on her hands, and he had loved her all her life; no one
+else loved her, no one else ever would love her like this; he was good
+and true, and she wanted some one to love her; she wanted to be sure of
+love somewhere and then to go to sleep. Her father should see her
+married before he died; her mother would never--
+
+"You have promised," he cried, in a thick voice. "You have promised and
+you never break your word."
+
+"I have promised and I never break my word; but you must not speak of it
+to any one, not even to Laura, and I will not tell father, or Gus, or
+Miss Jewett, or Dine; no one must guess it for one year--it is so sudden
+and strange! I couldn't bear to hear it spoken of; and if you are very
+gentle and do not _try_ to make me love you--you must not kiss me, or put
+your arms around me, you know I never did like that, and perhaps that is
+one reason why I never liked you before--you must let me alone, let love
+come of itself and grow of itself."
+
+"I will," he uttered brokenly, and rose up trembling from head to foot.
+"May God bless you!--bless you!--bless you!"
+
+It was better for him to leave her; the strain had been too great for
+both.
+
+"I must be alone; I must go out under the stars and thank God."
+
+She lifted her face to his and kissed him. How unutterably glad and
+thankful she was in all her life afterward that she gave that kiss
+unasked.
+
+"God bless you, my darling," he said tenderly, "and He _will_ bless you
+for this."
+
+Bewildered, not altogether unhappy, she sat alone while he went out
+under the stars.
+
+Was this the end of all her girlhood's dreams?
+
+Only Felix Harrison! Must she pass all her life with him? Must her
+father and mother and Gus and Dine be not so much to her because Felix
+Harrison had become more--had become most? And Ralph Towne? Ought she to
+love Felix as she had loved him?
+
+The hurried questions were answerless. She did not belong to herself;
+not any more to her father as she had belonged to him half an hour since
+with both her arms around his neck. Love constituted ownership, and she
+belonged to Felix through this mighty right of love; did he belong to
+her through the same divine right?
+
+He was thanking God and so must she thank Him.
+
+"Tessa," called her father, "come here, daughter!"
+
+With the candle in her hand, she stood in the door-way of the
+sitting-room. "Well," she said.
+
+"With whom were you closeted?" asked Mr. Hammerton, looking up from the
+chess-board.
+
+The effort to speak in her usual tone lent to her voice a sharpness that
+startled herself.
+
+"Felix Harrison."
+
+"Your old tormentor!" suggested Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"Who ever called him that?" She came to the table, set the candlestick
+down and looked over the chess-board.
+
+"She has refused him again," mentally decided Mr. Hammerton, carefully
+moving his queen.
+
+"I called you, daughter, because Gus withstood me out and out about
+'Heaven doth with us as we with torches do.' Find it and let his
+obstinate eyes behold!"
+
+She opened the volume, turning the leaves with fingers that trembled.
+"Truly enough," she was thinking, "a year from to-day will find a
+difference."
+
+"Now I am going over for Dine," she said, after Mr. Hammerton had
+acknowledged himself in the wrong.
+
+"Permit me to accompany you," he said. Even with Tessa Wadsworth, Gus
+Hammerton was often formal. They found Dinah bidding Norah good-by at
+Mr. Bird's gate; they were laughing at nothing, as usual.
+
+"Let us walk to the end of the planks," suggested Mr. Hammerton. "On a
+night like this I could tramp till sunrise." He drew Tessa's arm through
+his, saying, "Now, Dine, take the other fin."
+
+The end of the planks touched a piece of woods; at the entrance of the
+wood stood an old building, windowless, doorless, chimneyless; the
+school children knew that it was haunted.
+
+"We're afraid," laughed Dine; "the old hut looks ghostly."
+
+"It _is_ ghostly, I will relate its history. Once upon a time, upon a
+dark night, so dark that I could not see the white horse upon which I
+rode--"
+
+"Oh, that's splendid," cried Dinah, hanging contentedly upon his arm.
+"Listen, Tessa."
+
+But Tessa could not listen. She was feeling the peace that rested over
+the woods, the fields; that was enwrapping Old Place, and further down
+the dim road the low-eaved homestead that must thenceforth be home to
+her. There could be no more air-castles; her future was decided. She had
+turned the leaf and discovered a name that hitherto had meant so little:
+Felix Harrison. Not Ralph Towne; a year ago to-night it was English
+violets and Ralph Towne. The peace that brooded over all might be hers,
+if only she would be content.
+
+At this moment,--while she was trying to be content, trying to believe
+that she could interpret the peace of the shining stars, and while she
+was hearing the sound of her companion's words, a solemn, even tone that
+rolled on in unison with her thoughts,--two people far away were thinking
+of her; thinking of her, but not wishing and not daring to speak her
+name.
+
+"I can not understand, Ralph. I was sure that we would bring Naughty Nan
+away with us."
+
+"Truly, mother, I would have pleased you, if I could."
+
+"You are too serious for her; with all her mischievous advances,--like a
+white kitten provokingly putting out its paw,--she was more than half
+afraid of you."
+
+"It does not hurt her to be afraid."
+
+"She is most bewitching."
+
+"Now, mother! But it is too late; she will understand by my parting
+words that I do not expect to see her soon again. In my mind is a memory
+that has kept me from loving that delicious Naughty Nan."
+
+"Is the memory a fancy?"
+
+"No; it is too real for my ease of mind. If I were a poet, which I am
+not, I should think that her spirit haunted me."
+
+"Can you tell me no more of her? That daughter that I might have had!"
+
+"I do not understand her: she is beyond me, she baffles me."
+
+"I read of a man once who loved a woman too well to marry any one else,
+and yet he did not love her well enough to marry her."
+
+"Was he a fool?"
+
+"Answer the question for yourself. Are _you_ a fool?"
+
+"Yes, I am. I do not know my own mind. I should call another man a
+fool."
+
+"It may not be too late," she gently urged.
+
+"Too late for what?" he asked irritably.
+
+"To be wise."
+
+In a few moments he spoke in an abrupt, changed tone--
+
+"Mother! I have decided at last. I shall hang out my shingle in
+Dunellen. It is a picturesque little city, and the climate is as good
+for you as the south of France."
+
+"I am very glad," she answered cordially. "You are a born physician, you
+are cool, you are quick, you are gentle; you can keep your feelings
+under perfect control. You are not quite a Stoic, but you will do very
+well for one."
+
+"But you will not be happy at Old Place without me."
+
+"Why should I be without you?"
+
+"You have noticed that large, wide brick house on the opposite side of
+the Park from Miss Jewett's? It has a garden and stable; it is just the
+house for us; you may have two rooms thrown into one for your
+sitting-room and any other changes that you please."
+
+"I remember it, I like the situation; there are English sparrows in the
+trees."
+
+"We will take that for the present. John Gesner owns it; he will make
+his own price if he sees that I want it, I suppose. I _do_ want it.
+There are not many things that I desire more. You and I will have a
+green old age at Old Place."
+
+"You forget that I am thirty years older than you, my son."
+
+By accident, one day, Mrs. Towne had come across, in one of the drawers
+of her son's writing-table, a large photograph of Tessa Wadsworth, a
+vignette, and she had gazed long upon her; the face was not beautiful,
+one would not even think of it as pretty, but it was fine, intellectual,
+sensitive, and sweet. In searching for an old letter not long before
+leaving home, she had discovered this picture, defaced and torn into
+several pieces.
+
+"Ralph, you will not be angry with your white-headed old mother, but
+were you ever refused?"
+
+"No," he said, laughing. "A dozen women may have been ready to refuse
+me, but not one ever did."
+
+"Nor accepted you, either," she continued, shrewdly.
+
+He arose and began to pace the floor; after some turns of excited
+movement, he came to her and stood behind her chair. "I know that I have
+been accepted; I know that I asked when I did not intend to ask--that
+is--I was carried beyond myself; I asked when I did not know that I was
+asking."
+
+"What shall you do now?"
+
+"I shall ask in reality; I shall confess myself in the wrong."
+
+"And she?"
+
+"And she? She has the tenderest heart in the world. She has forgiven me
+long ago."
+
+"Do not trust her eyes and forget her lips," warned his mother. "Love is
+slain sometimes."
+
+He resumed his walk with a less confident air. He _had_ forgotten her
+lips.
+
+Would Tessa have cared to hear this? Would she have forgotten Felix, his
+blessing and the quiet of the holy stars?
+
+"Oh," cried Dinah, with her little shout (she would not have been Dinah
+without that little shout), "Oh, Tessa, did you hear?"
+
+"She is star-gazing," said Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"It isn't a true story," pleaded Dinah. "You didn't really see him
+hanging by the rope and the woman looking on."
+
+"My young friend, it is an allegory; that is what you will drive some
+man to some day."
+
+"You know I won't. What is the name of that bright star?"
+
+"It isn't a star, it's a planet."
+
+"How do I know the difference?"
+
+"Lady Blue knows."
+
+"Do you call her that because her eyes are so blue or because she is a
+blue-stocking?"
+
+"She is not a blue-stocking; I will not allow it. It is for her eyes."
+
+"Gus," said Dinah, "I can't understand things."
+
+"What things?"
+
+"Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women."
+
+"I shouldn't think you could. I have spent hours on it trying to make it
+out. You look up Marc Antony and Cleopatra--"
+
+"As if I had to."
+
+"Well, look up the daughter of the warrior Gileadite, and fair Rosamond,
+and angered Eleanor, and Fulvia, and Joan of Arc."
+
+"And will you read it to us, and talk all about it?" cried Dinah in
+delight. "I like King Lear when father reads it, but I can't understand
+Shakespeare; he is all conversations."
+
+Mr. Hammerton laughed, and patted her head. "I will bring you the
+stories that Charles and Mary Lamb gathered from Shakespeare."
+
+"Shall we turn?" asked Tessa, slipping her hand through his arm; he
+instantly imprisoned her fingers. Felix would be troubled and angry she
+knew, even at this clasp of an old friend's hand. Jealousy was his one
+strong passion; he was jealous of the books she read, of the letters she
+received, of every word spoken to her that he did not hear; she wondered
+as her fingers drew themselves free, if he would ever become jealous of
+her prayers.
+
+She drew a long breath as the weight of her bondage fell heavier and
+heavier; and then, he was so demonstrative, so lavish of his caresses,
+and her ideal of a lover was one who held himself aloof, who kept his
+hands and his lips to himself. She sighed more than once as she kept
+even pace with the others.
+
+"Has the nightingale made a mistake?" asked Mr. Hammerton, as they were
+crossing to the gate.
+
+"She only made one mistake. I wonder how many I _can_ make if I do my
+best to make them."
+
+Dinah opened the gate; her father's light streamed through the windows
+over the garden, down the path.
+
+"Good night," said Mr. Hammerton. "Oh, I just remember, what shall I do?
+I asked my cousin Mary to go to a lecture on Burns with me to-night, and
+I declare! I never thought of it until this minute."
+
+"Mary Sherwood will give it to you," said Dinah. "I wonder what your
+wife will do with you."
+
+"A wife's first duty is obedience," he answered.
+
+"I'd like to see the man I'd promise to obey," said Dinah, quickly.
+
+"I expect you would," he said gravely.
+
+Dine darted after him to box his ears, words being impotent, and Tessa
+went into the house. "I think I'll pigeon-hole _this_ day and then go to
+bed," she said, a merry gleam crossing her eyes; "between my two walks
+on the planks to-day, I have lived half a lifetime. I hope Dr. Lake is
+asleep; I will never hurt Felix as he is hurt."
+
+
+
+
+IX.--THE NEW MORNING.
+
+
+Her eyes were wide open an hour before the dawn; as the faint light
+streamed through the east and glowed brighter and brighter along the rim
+of the south that she could see from her position on the pillow, she
+arose, wrapped a shawl about her, and went to the window to watch the
+new morning. On the last night of the old year she had watched the
+sunset standing at her western window, then the light had gone out of
+her life and all the world was dark; now, in the new year, her private
+and personal new year, the light was rising, creeping up slowly into the
+sky, the gold, the faint rose and the bright rose running into each
+other, softening, blending, glowing deeper and deeper as she watched.
+This new morning that was an old morning to so many other eyes that were
+looking out upon it; this new morning that would be again for Dinah,
+perhaps, and for all the other girls that were growing up into God's
+kingdom on the earth! The robins in Mr. Bird's apple orchard were awake,
+too, and chanticleer down the road had proclaimed the opening of another
+new day with all his lusty might. She wondered, as she listened and
+looked, if Felix were standing in the light of the morning on the porch,
+or he might be walking up and down the long garden path. And thanking
+God? She wished that she were thanking God. She was thanking Him for the
+light, the colors, the refreshing, misty air, the robins and the white
+and pink wealth of apple blossoms; but she was not thanking Him because
+Felix Harrison loved her.
+
+"And that night they caught nothing."
+
+The words repeated themselves with startling clearness. What connection
+could they possibly have with the sunrise? Oh, now she knew; it was
+because the fishermen had seen the Lord upon the shore in the morning.
+
+_She_ had caught nothing; all her night of toil had been fruitless; she
+had striven and hoped and dreamed, oh, how she had dreamed of all that
+she would do and become! And now she could not be glad of any thing.
+
+The years had ended in having Felix Harrison love her; that was all. She
+had lived her childhood and girlhood through for such a time as this.
+
+This new year had brought more hard things to bear than any of the old
+years; if she could only tell some one who would care and sympathize
+with her and help her not only to bear but to do and to become; but her
+father would be justly angry and exclaim, "Madness, daughter," her
+mother would laugh and look perplexed, Miss Jewett would say, "O, Tessa,
+Tessa, I didn't think such a thing of you," and Mr. Towne--but she had no
+right to think of him! And Gus! He would look at her steadily and say
+nothing; he would be disappointed in her if he knew that she could
+promise with her lips, with no love in her heart save the love of
+regret, compassion, and contrition for all that she had so unconsciously
+caused him to suffer. And how could she reveal to Felix, poor Felix! the
+plain, cold truth! how she shrank from him as soon as she was alone and
+could think! how as the morning grew brighter and her world more real
+she shrank from him yet more and more! how the very thought of his
+presence, of his tight arms around her, and his smooth face close to
+hers gave her a feeling of repulsion that she had never felt towards any
+human being before! She felt that she must flee to the ends of the earth
+rather than to endure him. But it was done; she must keep her word; he
+should never guess; she would write a note and slip it into his hand
+to-day, he would be sure to press through the crowd towards her as she
+came out of church. She would write it now and be at rest. Her
+writing-desk stood open, pages of manuscript were laid upon it. She
+selected a sheet of lemon-colored note paper, and wrote a message,
+hurriedly, in pencil. Never afterward would she write a word upon
+lemon-colored paper.
+
+"Do not come to me, dear Felix--" she hesitated over the adjective,
+erased the words, and dropped the sheet into her waste paper basket and
+found another: "Do not come to me, Felix, until I send for you, please.
+I am not strong. I want to be alone. Do not think me unkind, you know
+that I always did like to be alone. Do not expect too much of me; I am
+not what you think; I am a weak, impulsive woman, too tender-hearted to
+be wise, or to be just towards myself or towards you. If you want me to
+love you, ask it of Him, who is love; do not ask it of me, I am not
+love. But do not be troubled, I have given my word, I am not a
+covenant-breaker, _I will be true_."
+
+She folded it, not addressing it, and placed it in the pocket of the
+dress that she would wear to church; as she passed the window she saw
+Dr. Lake driving towards home. Shivering, although the sun was high
+enough to shine on the apple blossoms, she crept back to bed, nestling
+close to sleepy Dine who loved her morning nap better than the sunrise.
+Her confused thoughts ran hither and thither; she found herself
+repeating something that she and Mr. Hammerton had learned together
+years ago,
+
+ "'Yes,' I answered you last night;
+ 'No,' this morning, sir, I say;
+ Colors seen by candlelight
+ Do not look the same by day."
+
+Mr. Hammerton said that he and the Wadsworth girls had learned "miles"
+of poetry together. The Harrisons were not at church. When had such a
+thing happened before? Her fingers were on the note in her pocket as she
+passed down the aisle.
+
+"Tessa, Tessa," whispered a loud whisper behind her, and Sue's
+irrepressible lips were close to her ear; "come home to dinner with me;
+you won't want to go to Bible class, for Miss Jewett is down to
+Harrison's. Father sent for her to go early this morning."
+
+"Why is she there?"
+
+"Oh, somebody is sick. Felix. Dr. Lake was there in the night and father
+was going this morning. He was taken crazy, I believe. Come home with
+me, will you?"
+
+"Very well."
+
+She found Dine waiting for Norah, and told her that she was going home
+with Sue, then rejoined Sue at one of the gates.
+
+"I'm awful lonesome Sundays," began Sue; "Aunt Jane has gone, I told
+you, didn't I? A cousin of hers died and left some dozens of young ones
+and she had to go and take care of them and console the widower. 'The
+unconsolable widder of Deacon Bedott will never get married again!' but
+she went all the same. She said that she had brought _me_ up far enough
+to take care of father."
+
+Sue's lightness grated all along her nerves.
+
+"Did you like Mary Sherwood's hat? Too many flowers, don't you think so?
+And she _will_ wear light blue with her sallow face! Wasn't it a queer
+sermon, too? Don't you think it is wicked for ministers to frighten
+people so? He said that we make our own lives, that we choose every day,
+and that every choice has an influence. You think that I don't listen
+because I stare around, don't you? I sha'n't forget that ever, because I
+have just had a choice that will influence my life; and I chose _not_ to
+do it. It's hateful to have Miss Jewett away; I won't go to Bible class,
+and I won't let you, either. I have a book to read, or I can go to
+sleep."
+
+"Yes, you can go to sleep."
+
+"I have something to tell you," said Sue, shyly, hesitating as she
+glanced into Tessa's quiet, almost stern, face.
+
+"Not now--in the street."
+
+"Oh, no, when we are by ourselves. Our parlors are lovely now; you will
+see how I have fixed up things. Father is so delighted to have me home
+that he will let me do any thing I like."
+
+Voices behind them and voices before them, now and then a soft, Sunday
+laugh; through the pauses of Sue's talk Tessa listened, catching at any
+thing to keep herself from thinking.
+
+"A rare sermon."
+
+"It will do me good all the week."
+
+"The most becoming spring hat I've seen."
+
+"He is very handsome in the pulpit."
+
+"Come over to tea."
+
+"I expect to do great things this summer."
+
+"If I could talk like that I'd set people to thinking."
+
+"We sha'n't get out of trouble in _this_ world."
+
+"When I can't forgive myself, I just let go of myself, and let God
+forgive me."
+
+She wished that she could see that face; the voice sounded familiar, the
+reply was in a man's voice; she felt as if she were listening, but she
+would have liked to hear the reply, all the more when she discovered
+that the talkers were Mr. Lewis Gesner and his sister.
+
+"_Isn't_ she handsomely dressed?" exclaimed Sue in admiration. "She
+passed me without seeing me. He is so wrapped up in that sister that he
+will never be married."
+
+The crowd became thinner; couples and threes and fours, sometimes only
+one, entered at each gate as they moved on; they passed down the long
+street almost alone; Dr. Greyson's new house stood nearly a mile from
+the Park; there was a grass plot in front and stables in the rear.
+
+Dr. Lake was driving around to the stables.
+
+"I hoped that he wouldn't be home to lunch; he's awful cross," said Sue,
+with a pout and a flush. Fifteen minutes later the lunch bell rang; Dr.
+Greyson hurried in as they were seating themselves at the table.
+
+Tessa's quickened heart-beats would not allow her to ask about Felix;
+she knew that her voice would betray her agitation; Dr. Lake had shaken
+hands and had not stopped to speak to her; his miserable face was but a
+repetition of yesterday.
+
+Dr. Greyson seldom talked of anything but his patients and he was
+interested in Felix Harrison, she knew that she had but to wait
+patiently.
+
+"Susie is a perfect housekeeper, isn't she? Somebody will find it out,
+I'm afraid."
+
+"That's all I am," said Sue. "Father, why didn't you educate me?"
+
+"Educate a kitten!"
+
+"How is Felix Harrison?" inquired Dr. Lake.
+
+"Bad! Bad enough. That fellow has been walking around with a brain
+fever. He'll pull through with care. Miss Jewett will stay until they
+can get a nurse; I would rather keep _her_, though. I warned him months
+ago. I told him that it would come to this. He has thrown away his life;
+he'll never be good for any thing again. I am glad that he has a father
+to take care of him; lucky for him, and not so lucky for his father. I
+wouldn't care to see my son such a wreck as he'll be. Why a man born
+with brains will deliberately make a fool of himself, I can't
+understand. Teaching and studying law and what not? He will have fits as
+long as he lives coming upon him any day any hour; he will be as much
+care as an infant. More, for an infant does grow up, and he will only
+become weaker and weaker mentally and physically. He has been under some
+great excitement, I suspect. _They_ don't know what it is. He came home
+late last night; his father heard a noise in his room and went in to
+find him as crazy as a loon. He said that he had heard him talking in
+his sleep all night long for two or three nights. I hope that he isn't
+engaged. I know a case like his, and that poor fellow _was_ engaged."
+
+"Of course that ended it," said Sue. "A sick husband of all things. I
+would drown myself, if I had a sick husband."
+
+"Of course it ended it. It almost broke her heart, though; broke it for
+a year, and then a dashing cousin of his mended it."
+
+"Perhaps Felix hasn't any cousin. Dr. Lake, will you have more coffee?"
+Sue spoke carelessly, not meeting his glance.
+
+"Thank you, no."
+
+Dr. Greyson ran on talking and eating: "I told the old man the whole
+truth; he begged so hard to know the worst. He cried like a baby. He was
+proud of Felix. Felix was a fine fellow,--a noble fellow. But he's dead
+now; dead, _and_ buried."
+
+"Does Laura know?" inquired Sue, helping herself to sweet pickled
+peaches. Tessa was tasting the peaches, her throat so full of sobs that
+she swallowed the fruit with pain.
+
+"No, of course not. I told Miss Jewett to tell her any thing, but be
+sure to keep her up. He won't die. Why should he? It will come gradually
+to her. The very saddest case I know. And to think that it might have
+been avoided. I didn't tell his father _that_, though. Felix has no one
+but himself to thank. I warned him a year ago. Brains _without_ common
+sense is a very poor commodity. What did the minister tell you Miss
+Tessa? I haven't been to church since Sue was a baby."
+
+"No wonder that I'm a heathen, then; any body would be with such a
+father," retorted Sue.
+
+Dr. Lake excused himself abruptly, and crossing the hall went into the
+office.
+
+"That foolish boy has taught me a lesson. I would take a vacation this
+summer, only if I leave Sue at home she would run off and marry Lake
+before a week."
+
+"You needn't be afraid," answered Sue, scornfully. "I look higher than
+Gerald Lake."
+
+The office door stood ajar. Sue colored with vexation as the words in
+her high voice left her lips.
+
+"Shall we go into the parlor?" she said rising. "You can find a book and
+I'll go to sleep."
+
+The parlors had been refurnished in crimson and brown. Standing in the
+centre of the front parlor, Tessa exclaimed, "Oh, how pretty!"
+
+"Isn't it? All my taste. Dr. Lake did advise me, though; he went with
+me. Now, you shall sit in the front or back just as you please, in the
+most comfortable of chairs, and I will sit opposite you and snooze,--that
+is," rather doubtfully, for she was afraid of Tessa, "unless you will
+let me tell you my secret."
+
+In passing through the rooms, Tessa had taken a volume of Josephus from
+a table; she settled herself at one of the back windows in a pretty
+crimson and brown chair, smoothed the folds of her black dress, folded
+her hands in her lap over the green volume, and looked up at Sue. Sue
+and a book in brown paper were in another crimson and brown chair at
+another window; flushed and vexed she played with the edges of her book.
+
+"Do you think that he heard what I said?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"You know as well as I."
+
+She did not feel in a gentle mood towards Sue; her voice and words had
+rasped her nerves for the last hour.
+
+"I didn't intend it for him," she was half crying, "but father provoked
+me. He does bother me so. I didn't flirt with him, I was real good and
+sisterly. I told him to call me Sister Sue. But after it all, he asked
+me to marry him, and was as mad as a hornet, and said dreadful things to
+me when I refused him."
+
+She nibbled the edge of her book; Tessa had nothing to say.
+
+"I couldn't help it now, could I?" in a tearful voice.
+
+"You know best."
+
+"I _know_ I couldn't. I like him. I can't help liking him; a cat or a
+dog would like him. In some things, I like him better than Stacey, and
+I'm sure I like him better than old John Gesner."
+
+Tessa opened her book and looked into the handsome face of Flavius
+Josephus.
+
+"Haven't you any thing to say to me?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You might sympathize with me."
+
+"I don't know how."
+
+Sue nibbled the edge of her book, with her eyes filled with tears. She
+had no friend except Tessa, and now she had deserted her!
+
+Tessa turned the leaves and thought that she was reading; she did read
+the words: "The family from which I am derived is not an ignoble one,
+but hath descended all along from the priests; and as nobility among
+several people is of a different origin, so with us to be of the
+sacerdotal dignity is an indication of the splendor of a family."
+
+"Yes," she tried to think, her eyes wandering out of the window towards
+the rear of Gesner's Row, "and that is why the promise, to be made kings
+and priests--"
+
+"Tessa, I think you are real mean," said Sue, in a pathetic voice.
+
+Tessa met her eyes and smiled. She did not like to be hard towards Sue.
+
+"Do you think that I've been so wicked?"
+
+"I think that you have been so wicked that you must either be forgiven
+or punished."
+
+"Oh, dear! Oh, dear _me_," dropping her head on the arm of her chair.
+
+Tessa turned another leaf. "Moreover when I was a child and about
+fourteen years of age, I was commended by all for the love I had to
+learning; on which account the high priests and principal men of the
+city came then frequently to me together, in order to know my opinion
+about the accurate understanding of points of the law."
+
+Her eyes wandered away from the book and out the open window towards the
+rows of open windows in the houses behind the stables. At one window was
+seated an old man reading; in the same room, for he raised his head to
+speak to her, at another window, a woman was sitting reading also. She
+was glad that there were two. She wondered if they had been kind to each
+other as long as they had known each other. If the old man should die
+to-night would the old woman have need to say, "Forgive me." Through the
+windows above came the heavy, steady whirr of a sewing-machine, with now
+and then a _click_, as if the long seam had come to its end; the bushy,
+black head of a German Jew was bent over it; the face that he raised was
+not at all like that of the refined Flavius Josephus. No one ever went
+to him with knotty points in the law! There were plants in the other
+window of the room; she was glad of the plants. It was rather mournful
+to be seeking things to be glad about. A child was crying, sharply,
+rebelliously; a woman's sharper voice was breaking in upon it.
+
+There was a voice in the stable speaking to a horse, "Quiet, old boy." A
+horse was brought out and harnessed to a buggy without a top. Dr.
+Greyson climbed into the buggy and drove off. Another horse was brought
+out and harnessed to a buggy with a top. She persuaded herself that she
+was very much interested in watching people and things; she had not had
+time to think of Felix yet. Dr. Lake came out, sprang into the buggy,
+and drove slowly out, not looking towards the windows where sat the two
+figures, each apparently absorbed in a book.
+
+"Tessa," in a broken voice, like the appeal of a naughty child with the
+naughtiness all gone, "what shall I do?"
+
+"I don't know," said Tessa.
+
+"You don't think that I ought to marry him. He smells of medicine so."
+
+"I do not think any thing. If I did think any thing, it would be my
+thinking and not yours."
+
+"Do you believe that he cares so _very_ much?"
+
+The exultant undertone was too much for Tessa's patience.
+
+"I hope that he has too much good sense to care long; some day when he
+can see how heartless you are, he will despise himself for having
+fancied that he loved you."
+
+"You don't care how you hurt my feelings."
+
+"I am not sure that you have any to be hurt."
+
+"You are a mean thing; I don't like you; I wish that I hadn't asked you
+to come."
+
+Tessa's eyes were on _Josephus_ again.
+
+After a long, silent hour, during which Sue looked out the window, and
+nibbled the edge of her book, and during which Tessa thought of every
+body and every thing except Felix Harrison, Sue spoke: "I'm going
+up-stairs for a while; excuse me, please."
+
+Tessa nodded, closed her book and leaned back in the pretty crimson and
+brown chair. Sue came to her and stood a moment; her heart _was_ sore.
+If Tessa would only say something kind! But Tessa would not; she only
+said coolly, "Well?"
+
+"You don't believe that I am sorry."
+
+"I don't believe any thing about it, but that you are heartless and
+wicked."
+
+Sue stood waiting for another word, but Tessa looked tired, and as if
+she had forgotten her presence. Why should she look so, Sue asked
+herself resentfully; _she_ had nothing to trouble her? Sue went away,
+her arms dropped at her side, her long green dress trailing on the
+carpet; tenderness gathered in Tessa's eyes as the green figure
+disappeared. "I don't like to be hard to her," she murmured.
+
+The terrible thought of Felix pressed heavier and heavier. She took the
+note from her pocket and pondered each word; the cruel, truthful words!
+If he had read them she might have had to believe all her life that she
+had hastened this illness! The sunshine grew warmer, beating down upon
+the paving stones in the yard, the faces kept their places in the
+windows, the child's shrill, rebellious cry burst out again and the
+woman's sharper voice.
+
+Sue's steps were moving overhead; suddenly, so suddenly as to break in
+upon the current of her thoughts, Sue's voice rang out in her clear
+soprano, "Rock of Ages, cleft for me."
+
+The voice grated, the words coming from the thoughtless lips grated on
+her ear and on her heart, grated more harshly than the woman's sharp
+voice in taunting rebuke.
+
+ "Nothing in my hand I bring,
+ Simply to Thy cross I cling."
+
+As soon as she had decided that she could not bear it another instant,
+the singing ceased. It ceased and left her in tears.
+
+
+
+
+X.--FORGETTING THE BREAD.
+
+
+Again Tessa was spending the night with Miss Jewett; Sue Greyson had
+chatted away half the evening, and it was nearly eleven before Tessa
+could put both arms around her friend and squeeze her.
+
+"I am hungry for a talk with you, you dear little woman, every thing is
+getting to be criss-cross with me nowadays; I'm so troubled and so
+wicked that I almost want to die. You wouldn't love me any more if you
+could know how false I am. All my life I have been so proud of being
+true," she added bitterly, "I despise myself."
+
+"Is that all?"
+
+Miss Jewett was leaning back in her little rocker. Almost before she
+knew it herself, Tessa had dropped upon the carpet at her feet.
+
+"I have come to learn of you, my saint."
+
+"What have you come to learn, my sinner?"
+
+"I'm confused--I'm bewildered--I'm all in a tangle. People say, 'pray
+about it'; you say that yourself; and I do pray about all the trials in
+my life and yet--I can not understand--I am groping my way, I am blind,
+walking in the dark. Do you know that I believe that praying for a thing
+is the hardest way in the world to get it? I would rather earn it a
+thousand times over; I know that you think me dreadfully wicked, but do
+not stop me, let me pour it all out; hard praying, never ceasing, night
+and day, is enough to wear one out soul and body, because you _must_
+expect to get what you ask for, and if you do not after praying so long
+the disappointment is heart-breaking. There now! I have said it and I
+feel better. I have no one except you to talk to and I wouldn't dare
+tell you how wicked I am. About something I have prayed with all my
+strength--I will not be ashamed to tell you--I know you will understand;
+it is about loving somebody. I have been so ashamed and shocked at
+girls' love-stories and I wanted one so true and pure and unselfish and
+beautiful, and I have prayed that mine might be that, and I have tried
+so hard to make it that, and yet I get into trouble and break my own
+heart, which is nothing at all, and more than break some one else's
+heart and do as much harm as Sue Greyson does, who is as flighty as a
+witch! I would rather go without things than pray years and years and be
+disappointed every day, or go farther and farther into wrong-doing as I
+do; I don't believe that the flightiest and flirtiest of your girls does
+as much harm as I do, or is as false to herself as I am! And I have been
+so proud of being true!"
+
+"My _dear_ child."
+
+"Is that all you can say to comfort me?"
+
+"Why do you pray?"
+
+"Why do I pray?" repeated Tessa in surprise. "To get what I want, I
+suppose."
+
+"I thought so."
+
+"Isn't that what you pray for?"
+
+"Hardly. I pray that I may get what God wants."
+
+"Oh," said Tessa with a half startled, little cry.
+
+"I fear that you are having a hard time over something, child."
+
+"If you only knew--but you wouldn't believe in me any longer; neither
+would father, or Dine, or Gus, or any one who trusts me; I will not tell
+you; I have lost all faith in myself."
+
+"Thank God for that!" exclaimed the little woman brightly.
+
+"I am too sore and bruised to be thankful; I feel, sometimes, as if I
+could creep into a dark corner and cry my heart out. I could bear it if
+I were the only one, but to think that I must make somebody's heart ache
+as mine does! I thought all my prayers would prevail to keep me from
+making mistakes."
+
+"Perhaps you have been trying to _earn_ your heart's desire by heaping
+up prayers, piling them up higher and higher, morning, noon, and night,
+and you have held them up to God thinking that He must be glad to take
+them; I shouldn't wonder if you had even supposed that you were paying
+Him overmuch--you had prayed enough to get what you want some time ago."
+
+"That is true," answered Tessa, emphatically. "I have felt as if He were
+wronging me by taking my prayers and giving me so little in return. I
+believe that I have thought my prayers precious enough to pay for any
+thing. I paid my prayers, and I am disappointed that I have not my
+purchases."
+
+"Then your faith has been all in your _prayers_."
+
+"Yes; I was sure that I could not go wrong because I prayed so much."
+
+"And your faith has been in your _faith_."
+
+"And neither my faith nor my prayers have kept me from being false. Oh,
+it has been such hard work!"
+
+Tessa's face was drawn as if by physical pain.
+
+"I was thinking in the night last night that I did not believe that
+Hannah, or Elizabeth, or Huldah, or Persis, or Dorcas ever prayed more
+fervently or unceasingly than I have; I have builded on my _faith_, no
+wonder that the first rough wind has shaken my foundation! Ever since
+Felix Harrison years ago called me a flirt, I have prayed that I might
+be true; and to-night I am as false as Sue Greyson."
+
+"Through an experience once, long ago, I learned to pray that the will
+of God might be done in me, even although I must be sifted as wheat."
+
+"I am not brave enough for that. Oh, Miss Jewett, I am afraid that God
+is angry with me; and I have meant to be so true."
+
+"Do you remember the time that the disciples forgot to take bread?"
+
+"Yes, but that is not like me."
+
+"I think it is--just like you."
+
+"Then tell me."
+
+"It was one time when Jesus and the disciples were alone on board the
+ship; He had been deeply grieved with the Pharisees, sighing in His
+spirit over them, for they had tempted Him with asking of Him a sign
+from heaven. A sign from heaven! And He had just filled four thousand
+hungry people with seven loaves and a few small fishes!
+
+"By and by He began to talk to the disciples; speaking with authority,
+perhaps, it even sounded severe to them as He charged them to beware of
+the leaven of the Pharisees.
+
+"Then they began to talk among themselves: what had they done to be thus
+bidden to beware of the leaven of the Pharisees? _Leaven_ reminded them
+of bread! Oh, now they knew! They had but one loaf in the ship; they had
+forgotten to bring bread with them; perhaps the Lord was hungry and knew
+that they had not enough for Him and for themselves. It may be that He
+overheard them reasoning among themselves, or perhaps, forward Peter
+asked Him if He were rebuking them for forgetting the bread; for as soon
+as He knew what was troubling their simple hearts, how He talked to
+them! Seven questions, one after another, He asked them, ending with:
+_How is it_ that ye do not understand?
+
+"And you are like them, child. The Lord has suffered you to be led into
+trouble that He may teach you something about Himself and you fall down
+at His feet bemoaning yourself; you forget Him and the great lessons He
+has to teach you and think only of yourself and some little thing that
+you missed doing; you missed it, blinded with tears in your eagerness to
+do right, you _meant_ to be so good and true, and because you made a
+mistake in your blindness and eagerness, you think Him such a harsh,
+unloving Father that all He cares to do is to punish you! Trust Him,
+Tessa! Don't moan over a loaf of bread forgotten before Him who has love
+enough, and power enough to give you and somebody beside a thousand
+thousand loaves. Do not grieve Him by crying out any longer, 'Do not
+punish me; I _meant_ to be so good?'"
+
+Tessa's head kept its position. When she raised it, after a long
+silence, she said: "I will not think so any more; you don't know what I
+suffered in thinking that He is punishing me."
+
+"'How is it that ye do not understand?'"
+
+"Because I think about my own troubles and not of what He is teaching
+me," said Tessa humbly.
+
+
+
+
+XI.--ON THE HIGHWAY.
+
+
+In June, Tessa gathered roses for Miss Jewett, and every evening filled
+the tall glass vase with white roses for the tea-table; in June,
+Dunellen Institute closed for the season and Dinah was graduated;
+henceforth she would be a young lady of leisure, or a young lady seeking
+a vocation. In June, Mrs. Wadsworth scolded Tessa for "taking it so
+coolly about the dreadful thing that had come upon young Harrison."
+
+"How many times have you called to see Laura since her poor brother has
+been so poorly?"
+
+"I have called every two days," answered Tessa in her quietest tones.
+
+"Oh, you have! Why didn't you say so? You are so still that people think
+you do nothing but pick roses. Anxious as I am, you might have told me
+how he was getting on. How was he yesterday?"
+
+"Comfortable."
+
+"Did you see him?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was he sitting up?"
+
+"Yes, he had been sitting up half an hour."
+
+"How does he look?"
+
+"His eyes are deep in his head, his voice is as weak as a child's, he
+burst into tears because Laura did not come when he touched his bell for
+her."
+
+"Was he cheerful?"
+
+"He smiled and talked."
+
+"Are you going to-day?"
+
+"Yes; Dr. Lake will call for me about five."
+
+"You and Dr. Lake are getting to be great friends."
+
+"Are we?"
+
+"Do you know what he says about Felix?"
+
+"He can say nothing but that he may never be himself again."
+
+"Yes, he did; but you mustn't repeat it; promise me."
+
+"There is no need for me to promise."
+
+"He said that his mind will grow weaker and weaker. Do you know that he
+has been having _fits_ for two years?"
+
+"Yes, I am aware of it."
+
+"Isn't it a dreadful, horrible thing? But he always was a little wild
+and queer, not quite like other folks. I was sure that he would die; he
+may yet, he may have a relapse. I should think that they would rather
+have him dead than grow silly. I suppose that Laura will never be
+married now; he will never be fit to be left alone. His father can marry
+though, and that would leave her free. I never object to second
+marriages, do you?"
+
+"That depends upon several things."
+
+"My father was married three times. I had two stepmothers, and might
+have had four if he had lived longer. Some people think, but I never
+did, that an engagement is as good as a marriage, do you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Of course, I knew that you would think so. But I never had any
+high-flown ideas about engagements. I was engaged to John Gesner--your
+father doesn't know it to this day--he has high and mighty ideas about
+things like you. _You_ ought to have some feeling about Felix Harrison,
+then, for he always wanted you. Professional men are always poor; Dr.
+Lake is not much of a 'catch.'"
+
+"I think he is--or will be--to the woman who can appreciate him."
+
+"I beseech you don't you go to appreciate him."
+
+"I do now--sufficiently," she answered, smiling.
+
+Two weeks later, having seen Felix several times during the interval,
+Dine brought her a letter late in the afternoon.
+
+Felix always had written her name in full, saying that it was prettier
+than the one that she had given herself in baby-days; the penmanship
+appeared like a child's imitation of his bold strokes.
+
+Not daring and not caring to open it immediately, she put on her hat and
+went out to walk far past the end of the planks down into the green
+country. She thought that she knew every tree and every field all the
+long way to the Harrison Homestead.
+
+Opening the letter at last, she read:
+
+"My Friend,--I suppose you know all the truth. I wrung it out of Dr.
+Greyson to-day after you left me. You may have known it all the time.
+Father has known it, but not Laura. I shall never be what I once was; I
+know it better than any physician can tell me. If I live to forget every
+thing else (and I may), I think that I shall never forget that night.
+But I shall not let my mind go without a struggle; I shall read, I shall
+write, I shall travel, when I am able. I have been reading Macaulay
+to-day. I shall be a burden to father and Laura, and to any who may
+nurse me for wages. But I shall not be a burden to you. I know that you
+meant that _you_ would never break our covenant, when you said:
+'Promises are made to be kept,' but _I_ will break it. I am breaking it
+now. You did belong to me when you last said good-by and laid your
+young, strong hand over my poor fingers; but you do not belong to me as
+you read this. As I can not know the exact moment when you read it, I
+can never know when you cease to belong to me. Laura and father intend
+to take me away; do not come to me until I return. No one knows. In all
+my ravings, I never spoke your name; it was on my mind that I had
+promised not to speak of it, and I never once forgot. But your presence
+was in every wild and horrible dream; you were being scalped and drowned
+and burned alive, and often and often you sat beside me holding my hand;
+many many times you came to me and said, 'I will keep my word,' but
+something took you away; you never went of your own accord. I have asked
+them all what I raved about and every name that I spoke, but no one has
+answered 'Tessa.' Write to me this once, and never again, and tell me
+that you agree, that you are willing to break the bond that held us
+together such a little while. I am a man, and a selfish one at that,
+therefore I rejoice that you _were_ mine. You can have but one answer to
+give. I will not accept any devotion from you that may hinder your
+becoming the happy wife of a good man. Do not be too sorry for me. Laura
+will expect you to write to her, but I pray you, do not write; I should
+look for your letters and they would take away the little fortitude I
+have. Be a good girl; love somebody by and by. You have burned a great
+many letters that I have written. This is the last."
+
+ "F. W. H."
+
+Again and again she read it, pausing over each simple, full utterance.
+He could never say to her again, "You have spoiled my life." She had
+done her best to atone for the sorrow that she had so unwittingly caused
+him, and it had not been accepted by Him who had planned all her life.
+There was nothing more for her to do. The letter was like him. She
+remembered his kindly, gracious ways; his eagerness to be kind to her,
+how he would sit or stand near her to watch her as she talked or worked;
+how timidly he would touch her dress or her hand; how his face would
+change if she chanced to look up at him; how his pale green eyes would
+glitter when she preferred the society of Gus Hammerton or any other of
+the Dunellen boys, ever so long ago, as they were boys and girls
+together; almost as long ago as when she was a little girl and he a big
+boy and he would bring her fruit and flowers! On their Saturday
+excursions after nuts or berries or wild flowers, how he would fall
+behind the others when she did and catch her hand if they heard a noise
+in the woods or lost themselves for half a minute among a new clump of
+trees.
+
+In the long, happy weeks that she had passed at the Homestead, in the
+days when his mother was alive, how thoughtful he had been of her
+comfort, how he had tried to please her in work or play! One evening
+after they had all been sitting together on the porch and telling
+stories, she had heard his mother say to his father: "Tessa has great
+influence over Felix, I hope that she will marry him."
+
+"I won't," her rebellious little heart had replied. And at bedtime she
+had told Laura that she meant to marry a beautiful young man with dark
+eyes who must know every thing and wear a cloak. "And Felix has light
+eyes," she had added.
+
+She laughed and then sighed over the foolish, innocent days when
+girlhood and womanhood had meant only wonderful good times like the good
+times in fairy tales and Bible stories.
+
+Then for the last time she read his letter and tore it into morsels,
+scattering them hither and thither as she walked.
+
+She had done all she could do; he could not keep hold of her hand any
+longer.
+
+The last bit of paper fluttered on the air; she gave a long look towards
+the dear old Homestead; she could see the spires of the two churches at
+Mayfield, the brass rooster on the school-house where Felix had taught,
+and then she turned homeward to write the letter that would release him
+from the covenant whose keeping had been made impossible to them. As she
+turned, the noise of wheels was before her, the dust of travel in her
+face; she lifted her eyes in time to return a bow from Ralph Towne and
+to feel the smile that lighted the face of the white-haired lady at his
+side.
+
+In the dusk she came down-stairs, dressed for a walk, with several
+letters in her hand.
+
+"Whither does fancy lead you, daughter?" her father asked as she was
+passing through the sitting-room. He was lying upon the lounge with a
+heavy shawl thrown over him; his voice came quick and sharp as though he
+were in pain.
+
+She moved towards him instantly. "Why, father, are you sick?"
+
+"No, dear, not--now," catching his breath. "I have been in pain and it
+has worn upon me. Greyson gave me something to carry with me some time
+ago, I have taken it three times to-day and now I shall go to sleep?"
+
+"Are you _sure_ you feel better?" she asked caressing the hand that he
+held out to her. "Let me stay and do something for you."
+
+"No. I must go to sleep. Run along. I have sent your mother away, and
+now I send you away."
+
+She lingered a moment, stooping to kiss the bald forehead and then the
+plump hand.
+
+Her father was very happy to-night, for her mother, of her own accord,
+for the first time in fifteen years, had kissed him.
+
+He held Tessa's hand thinking that he would tell her, then he decided
+that the thought of those fifteen years would hurt her too sorely.
+
+"I thought that you meant to tell me something," she said.
+
+"No; run along."
+
+Along the planks, along the pavement, across the Park, she walked
+slowly, in the summer starlight, with the letters in her hand.
+
+ "Star light! Star bright!
+ I wish I may, I wish I might,
+ See somebody I want to see to-night."
+
+A child's voice was chanting the words in a dreamy recitative.
+
+"Dear child," sighed Tessa, with her five and twenty years tugging at
+her heart.
+
+She longed for a sight of Miss Jewett's untroubled face to-night; if she
+might only tell her about the right thing that she had tried to do and
+how the power to do it had been taken from her!
+
+But no one could comfort her concerning it; not her father, not Miss
+Jewett, not Ralph Towne, not Gus Hammerton, not Felix!
+
+One glance up into the sky over the trees in the Park helped her more
+than any human comforting. It was a new experience to have outgrown
+human comforting; she thought that she had outgrown it that day--the last
+day of the year; still she must see Miss Jewett; it would be a rest to
+hear some one talk who did not know about Felix or that other time that
+the sunshiny eyes had brought to life again. Would they meet as
+heretofore? Must they meet socially upon the street or at church?
+
+If it might have been that he might remain away for years and
+years--until she had wholly forgotten or did not care!
+
+Miss Jewett was almost alone; there was no one with her but Sue Greyson
+tossing over neckties to find a white one with fringe.
+
+Through the silks there shone on the first finger of Sue's left hand the
+sparkle of a diamond; she colored and smiled, then laughed and held her
+finger up for Tessa's inspection.
+
+"Guess who gave it to me," she said defiantly.
+
+It could not be Dr. Lake--Tessa would not speak his name; it must be her
+father--but no, Sue would not blush as she was blushing now; it could not
+be Mr. Gesner! Tessa's heart quickened, she was angry with herself for
+thinking of Mr. Gesner. Mr. Towne! But that was not possible.
+
+"Can't you guess?" Sue was enjoying her confusion.
+
+"No. I can't guess."
+
+"Say the Man in the Moon. I as much expected it. It's from Stacey! I
+knew you would be confounded. Wasn't I sly about it? We are to be
+married the first day of October. We settled on that because it is
+Stacey's birthday! It is Dr. Lake's too. Isn't it comical. Stacey is
+twenty-three and the doctor is twenty-nine! Stacey is a year younger
+than I. I wish that he wasn't. I think that I shall change my age in the
+Bible. When I told Dr. Lake, he said that I seemed inclined to change
+some other things in the Bible. Don't you tell, either of you. It's a
+profound secret. Wasn't father hopping, though? But I told him that I
+would elope if he didn't consent like a good papa; and now since
+Stacey's salary is raised he hasn't a bit of an excuse for being ugly
+about it. I am going to have all the new furniture, too; I bargained for
+that. Won't it be queer for me to live so far away? Stacey is in a lace
+house in Philadelphia, don't you remember? You ought to see the white
+lace sacque that he brought me for an engagement present; it's too
+lovely for any thing. Why, Tessa, you look stunned, are you speechless?
+Don't you relish the idea of my being married before you? You ought to
+have seen Dr. Lake when I showed my ring to him! He turned as white as a
+sheet and trembled so that he had to sit down; all he said was, 'May God
+forgive you.' Don't you think that it was wicked in him to say that? I
+told him that it sounded like swearing. Yes, I'll take this one, please.
+And, oh, Tessa, I want you to help me to buy things. I am to have a
+dozen of every thing. I shall be married in white silk; I told father
+that he would never have another daughter married so that he might as
+well open his long purse. We shall go to the White Mountains on our
+wedding tour. It's late in the season, of course, but I always wanted to
+go to the White Mountains and I will if we are both frozen to death. I
+know that you are angry with me, but I can't help it. You are just the
+one to believe in love. I have always liked Stacey; he has just
+beautiful hands, and his manners are really touching. You ought to see
+him lift his hat; Mr. Towne is nowhere."
+
+"What will your father do?" asked Miss Jewett.
+
+"Oh, Aunt Jane must come back, she hasn't captivated the widower yet; or
+he might get married himself. I think that I'll suggest it. _Wouldn't_
+it be fun to have a double wedding? I'll let father be married first;
+Stacey and I will stand up with them."
+
+Sue went off into a long, loud peal of laughter; Miss Jewett smiled;
+Tessa spoke gravely: "Sue, your mother would not like to hear that."
+
+"Oh, bother! She doesn't think of me. I want some silks, too, please. I
+shall have to make Stacey a pair of slippers and a lot of other pretty
+things. And oh, Tessa, I haven't told you the news! The queerest thing!
+Dr. Towne--we must call him that now--has bought that handsome brick house
+opposite the Park and is going into practice. Dr. Lake says that of
+course people will run after _him_ while they would let him starve!"
+
+"Then he'll smell of medicine, too," Tessa could not forbear suggesting.
+
+"Yes, and have bottles in all his pockets. I'm going to see your mother;
+she cares more about dress than you and Dine put together. If your
+father should die, she would be married before either of you. I won't
+come if you look so cross at me."
+
+At that moment Mr. Hammerton pushed open the door; he had come for
+gloves and handkerchiefs. Tessa selected them for him and would then
+have waited for her word with Miss Jewett, had not one of the clerks
+returned from supper.
+
+"Come, Lady Blue, I am going your way."
+
+"Father is not well to-night; he will not play chess."
+
+"I am going all the same, however; you shall play with me, and Dine
+shall read the 'Nut Brown Maid.'"
+
+As they were crossing the Park, they met Dr. Lake; he was walking
+hurriedly; she could not see his face.
+
+"What do you think Lake said to me last night? We were talking--rather,
+he was--about trouble. He has seen a good deal of it one time and another
+I imagine; his nerves are so raw that every thing hurts. For want of
+something to suit him in my own experience, I quoted a thought of
+Charles Kingsley's. He turned upon me as if I had struck him--'A man in a
+book said that.' A man in a book _did_ say it, so I had nothing to say.
+Something is troubling you, what is it?"
+
+"More than one something is troubling me. I just heard a bit of news."
+
+"Not good news?"
+
+"I can not see any good."
+
+He repeated in a hurried tone:
+
+ "'Good tidings every day;
+ God's messengers ride fast.
+ We do not hear one half they say,
+ There is such noise on the highway
+ Where we must wait while they ride past.'"
+
+"Perhaps I do not hear one half they say this time; the half I do hear
+is troublesome enough. Some day, when I may begin 'five and fifty years
+ago,' I will tell you a story."
+
+"Will it take so long for me to become worthy to hear it?"
+
+"I wish I _might_ tell you; you always help me," she said impulsively.
+
+"Is there a hindrance?"
+
+"It is too near to be spoken of."
+
+She was not in the mood for chess, but her father brightened at Mr.
+Hammerton's entrance, arose, threw off the shawl, and came to the table,
+saying that he would watch her moves. He seated himself close to her,
+with an arm across the back of her chair, once or twice bringing his
+head down to the chestnut braids.
+
+"How alike you are!" exclaimed Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"Yes, I am very pretty," replied Mr. Wadsworth, seriously.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth had taken her work over to Mrs. Bird for a consultation
+thereupon; Dine fell asleep, resting her curly head on the book that Mr.
+Hammerton had brought her.
+
+When Mr. Hammerton arose, Mr. Wadsworth went to the door with him to
+look out into the night; Tessa said good night and went up-stairs; the
+sleepy head upon the book did not stir.
+
+"I never can find a constellation," remarked Mr. Wadsworth. "Tessa is
+always laughing at me."
+
+"Step out and see if I can help you."
+
+They moved to the end of the piazza leaving the door wide open; the
+sleepy brown eyes opened with a start--was she listening to words that
+she should not hear?
+
+Mr. Hammerton had surely said "Dinah." And now her father was saying--was
+she dreaming still?--"Take her, and God bless you both. I have nothing
+better to hope for my darling. She will make you a good wife."
+
+"Let it remain a secret I want her to love me without any urging. She
+must love me because I am necessary to her and not merely because I love
+her."
+
+Could Tessa have heard his voice, she would never again have accused him
+of coldness.
+
+"I shall have to wait--I expect an increase of salary. I am not sure that
+she thinks of me otherwise than as a grown-up brother--but I will bide my
+time. I know this--at least I think I do--that she does not care for any
+one else."
+
+"I am sure of that," said her father's voice. "You do not know how you
+have taken a burden from me, my son! I have _hoped_ for this." Startled
+little Dinah arose and fled.
+
+She would never tell, no, not even Tessa; but how could she behave
+towards him as if she did not know?
+
+"Tessa, did you ever have a secret to keep?"
+
+"Yes. Laura told me once that she had a gold dollar and I've never told
+until this minute."
+
+"But this is a wonderful, beautiful, happy secret; the wonderfulest and
+beautifulest thing in the world. And I shall never, never tell. You will
+never know until you discover it yourself."
+
+"I want to know something to be glad of."
+
+"You will be glad of this. As glad as glad can be. It is rather funny
+that neither of us ever guessed; and you are quick to see things, too."
+
+"Perhaps I _do_ know, pretty sister."
+
+"No, you don't. I should have seen in your manner. Perhaps I dreamed it;
+or perhaps an angel came and told me. It is good enough for an angel to
+tell."
+
+ "'Good tidings every day,
+ God's messengers ride fast.'"
+
+repeated Tessa.
+
+"Tessa," with her face turned away, "do you like Gus very much?"
+
+"Do I like _you_ very much? I should just as soon think of your asking
+me that."
+
+"Better than Felix or Mr. Towne or Dr. Lake, or any of the ten thousand
+young men in Dunellen?"
+
+"Why, Dine, what ails you? Are you asking my advice? He hasn't been
+making love to my little sister, has he?"
+
+"No," said Dinah, "I wonder if he knows how. Daisy Grey's father is
+dead. There will have to be a new Greek professor at the Seminary. She
+liked her father."
+
+
+
+
+XII.--GOOD ENOUGH TO BE TRUE.
+
+
+The afternoon sun was shining down hot on the head of the soldier on his
+tall pedestal in the Park; he stood leaning on his gun, his eyes
+intently peering from under the broad visor of his cap; at his feet a
+group of children were playing soldiers marching to the war; at the
+pump, several yards distant, a small boy was pumping for the others to
+drink, a tall boy was lifting the rusty dipper to his lips while a
+ragged little girl was wistfully awaiting her turn; nurses in white caps
+were rolling infants' chaises along the smooth, wide paths; ladies in
+shopping attire were sauntering with brown parcels in their hands;
+half-grown boys were lolling on the green benches with cigars and lazy
+words in their mouths; girls in twos and threes were strolling along
+with linked arms mingling gay talk with gay laughter; in the arbor seven
+little girls and three little boys were playing school: a little boy who
+stammered was trying to spell Con-stan-ti-no-ple, a rosy child in white
+was noisily repeating "Thirty days hath September," a black-eyed boy was
+shouting "The boy stood on the burning deck," and a naughty child was
+being vigorously scolded by the teacher, who held a threatening willow
+switch above her head. "You are the dreadfulest child that ever
+breathed," she was declaring. "You are the essence of stupidity, you are
+the dumbest of the dumb."
+
+A serious voice arrested the willow switch: "I didn't like to be scolded
+when I was a little girl, it used to make me cry."
+
+The willow switch dropped; the various recitations came to a sudden
+pause. "But she is such a dreadful bad girl," urged the teacher.
+
+Tessa Wadsworth lingered with her reticule, three parcels, a parasol,
+and _Sartor Resartus_ in her hands.
+
+"_You_ come and be teacher and tell us a story," coaxed the naughty
+child.
+
+But Tessa laughed and moved on, to be stopped, however, by a quick call.
+"Tessa Wadsworth! I declare that you are a pedestrian."
+
+The voice belonged to a pair of blue eyes, and a slight figure in drab.
+
+"Well, now that you have caught me what will you have?"
+
+"I'll be satisfied with a walk across the Park. Didn't you know that I
+was home? Gus said that he would tell you."
+
+"Have you had a pleasant time?"
+
+"Oh, I always manage to enjoy myself. How is it that you always stay
+poking at home?"
+
+"I seem to have found my niche at home. Every one needs me."
+
+"Dunellen is a poky little place, but Nan thinks it is splendid."
+
+"I expect to spend the winter away from home and I don't want to go. I
+don't see why I must. Mother has been promising for years that the first
+winter that Dine was out of school I should go for three months, more or
+less, to an old aunt of hers for whom I was named; she has lost all her
+seven boys and lives on a farm down in the country with the dearest old
+husband that ever breathed. If I had such a dear old husband I should
+always want to be alone with him."
+
+"That sounds just like you. I wanted Naughty Nan to come home with me,
+but she wouldn't or couldn't. You can't think how thin she has grown,
+and she mopes like an old woman. I had to coax her to laugh just once
+for me before I came away. I suppose that I oughtn't to tell, but I will
+tell you; you are as deep as the sea. You know Dr. Towne?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well it is all _his_ fault," said Mary Sherwood in a mysterious low
+voice.
+
+"Did he give her something to take outwardly and she took it inwardly?"
+asked Tessa gravely.
+
+"That's like you, too. You are always laughing at somebody. How he
+flirted with poor little Naughty Nan nobody knows!"
+
+"How she flirted with him, you mean."
+
+"No, I don't. She was in earnest this time. He made her presents and
+took her everywhere; he always treated her as if--"
+
+"--She were his mother."
+
+"I won't talk to you," cried Mary indignantly, "you don't know any thing
+about it. You haven't seen how white and thin she is! It's just another
+Sue Greyson affair; and every body talks about how he flirted with her.
+I comforted Nan by saying that he had done the same thing before and
+would again."
+
+"Did _that_ comfort her?"
+
+"It made her angry. I don't see how she can mourn over a man with a
+false heart, do you?"
+
+"She would have no occasion to mourn over a man with a true heart."
+
+"Do you think that he changes his mind?" asked Mary anxiously.
+
+"No, I think that he does not have any mind to change; he has no mind to
+flirt or not to flirt; he simply enjoys himself, not caring for the
+consequences."
+
+"H'm! What do you call _that_?"
+
+"I do not call it any thing; it would be as well for you not to talk
+about your cousin."
+
+"So Gus said; I had to tell him. I'm afraid that Nan will die."
+
+"No, she will not. It will make her bitter, or it will make her true."
+
+"Nan is so cut because people talk."
+
+"When is she coming to Dunellen?"
+
+"She wouldn't come with me! How I did coax her! She will come in
+September. She says that she will stay with me until she is married."
+
+"Then she doesn't intend to take the veil because of this?"
+
+"She did say so--seriously--that she would enter a convent--"
+
+"A monastery!" suggested Tessa.
+
+"Where the monks are," laughed Mary, "I think that would suit her
+better."
+
+"And believe me--Dr. Towne is not capable of doing a cruel or a mean
+thing--don't talk to your cousin about him."
+
+"Oh, me! there he is now coming towards us! On our path, too. I'll break
+the rules and run across the grass if you will."
+
+It was certainly Ralph Towne. He was walking slowly with his eyes bent
+upon the ground.
+
+"He looks like a monk himself," whispered Mary, "he wouldn't look at us
+for any thing."
+
+"Halt!" commanded the small military voice near the monument. He turned
+to look at the children; Tessa was close enough to feel the sunshine in
+his eyes although his face was not towards her; he stood watching the
+soldiers as they tramped on at the word of command; her dress brushed
+against him, she could have laid her hand on his arm; lifting her eyes
+with all her grief and disappointment at his indifference she met his
+fully; they were grave and very dark, not one gleam of recognition; how
+greatly he had changed! His eyes appeared larger, not so deep set as she
+remembered them, and there were many, many white threads running through
+his hair. Had Naughty Nan effected all this? With a slight inclination
+of his head he passed on.
+
+"He does look as if he had a 'mind to do or not do' something," said
+Mary! "I hope that he can't sleep nights. He almost slew me with his
+eyes; I can't see why such naughty hearts should look through such
+eyes!"
+
+"They don't," said Tessa, "a good heart was looking through those eyes."
+
+"H'm! I believe it!"
+
+Tessa had walked three blocks in a reverie, scolding herself for her
+sympathy with the changed face, trying to feel indignant that he had
+passed her by so coolly, and trying to despise him for so soon
+forgetting what she could never forget, when, lo! there he stood again,
+face to face with her, speaking eagerly, his hand already touching hers.
+
+"Miss Tessa, what has happened to your eyes?"
+
+"Excuse me," she stammered, "I did not see you."
+
+"How do you do?" he asked more coolly as she withdrew her hand.
+
+"Did you not just pass me in the Park?"
+
+"I have not crossed the Park to-day."
+
+"Then I met your ghost."
+
+"Can you not be a little glad to meet me in the flesh?"
+
+"Mary Sherwood was with me and _she_ recognized you; she saw you before
+I did."
+
+He laughed the low amused laugh that she had heard so often. "My cousin
+Philip will believe now that he might be my brother--my twin brother--but
+that he appears older than he is. He has come to Dunellen to take a
+professorship. He is to be Greek teacher at the Seminary instead of
+Professor Grey. Philip is a rare linguist; he is a rare scholar. It is
+the Comedy of Errors over again. I suppose that he did not talk to you
+and say that he was glad to see you again."
+
+"He bowed, he could not but do it. I expect that he thought I recognized
+him, as I certainly did. You will look like him some day, but he will
+never look like you."
+
+"Your distinction is not flattering. May I ask a kindness of you?"
+
+"Do you need to ask that?" she answered hurriedly.
+
+"My mother is homesick in Dunellen. Will you call upon her?"
+
+She colored, hesitating. After a second, during which she felt his eyes
+upon her, she said, "Yes."
+
+"Philip's father and mine were twins; it is not the first time that we
+have been taken for each other. He has a twin sister."
+
+"And he is like his sister."
+
+"Yes, he _is_ like his sister. Imagine me teaching Greek or preaching in
+the Park--Phil is a preacher, of course, and an elocutionist. You will
+hear of him; he does not live in a cloister; he is always doing
+something for somebody."
+
+"He is a _disciplined_ man; I never saw a person to whom that word could
+be so fitly applied."
+
+"And you never thought of applying it to me."
+
+"I confess that I never did," she said laughing.
+
+"You can see a great deal at a glance."
+
+"That is why I glance."
+
+"Probably you know that I have come to Dunellen to work."
+
+"I congratulate Dunellen," she answered prettily.
+
+"I hope that you may have reason to do so. May I tell my mother that you
+will call?"
+
+"Yes--if you wish," she said, doubtfully, buttoning a loose button on her
+glove. "Good afternoon, Dr. Towne."
+
+She passed on at a quickened pace, her cheeks glowing, her eyes alight.
+A stranger, meeting her, turned for a second look. "She has heard good
+news," he said to himself.
+
+_Had_ she heard good news? She had seen the man that she had so
+foolishly and fondly believed Ralph Towne to be; she had learned that
+she could not create out of the longings of her own heart a man too
+noble and true for God to make out of His heart. Her ideal had not been
+too good to be true; just then it was enough for her to know that her
+ideal existed. Her heart could not break because she was disappointed in
+Ralph Towne, but it would have broken had she found that God did not
+care to make men good and true. And Ralph Towne would become good and
+true some day. And then she would be glad and not ashamed that she had
+trusted in him; she could not be glad and not ashamed yet. She did not
+love the man that could trifle with Sue or flirt with Nan Gerard. She
+had loved the ideal in her heart, and not the soul in his flesh. He
+could not understand that; he would call it a fancy, and say that she
+could make rhyme to it, but that she could not live the poem. Perhaps
+not; if she had loved him she might have lived a different poem; her
+living and loving, her doing and giving, would be a poem, anyway; she
+did not love Ralph Towne to-day, she was only afraid that she did. He
+could not understand the woman who would prefer Philip Towne's
+saintliness; he was assured that his money would outweigh it with any
+maiden in Dunellen--with any maiden but Tessa Wadsworth; he was beginning
+to understand her. "She did not ask me to call," he soliloquized. The
+stranger passing him also, gave him also a second glance, but he did not
+say to himself, "He has heard good news." _Was_ it good news that the
+woman that he had thoughtlessly deceived held herself aloof from him and
+above him?
+
+"She loved me once," he soliloquized, "and love with her must die a hard
+death."
+
+How hard a death even Tessa herself could not comprehend; she understood
+years afterward when she said: "I thought once that I never could be as
+glad as I had been sorrowful; but I learned that the power to be glad
+was infinitely greater than the power of being sorrowful."
+
+That evening her father called her to say: "The new professor is to
+preach Sunday evening before church service in the Park; you and I will
+go to hear him."
+
+
+
+
+XIII.--THE HEART OF LOVE.
+
+
+The day lilies were in bloom, and that meant August; it meant also that
+her book was written, rewritten, and ready to be copied.
+
+"Oh, that my poor little book were as perfect as you," she sighed one
+morning as she arranged them with their broad, green leaves for the
+vases in parlor and sitting-room. "But God made you with His own
+fingers, and He made my book through my own fancies."
+
+She had worked early and late, not flagging, through all the sultry
+days. "You will make yourself sick," her mother had warned, "and it will
+cost you all you earn to buy beef tea and pay the doctor; so where is
+the good of it?"
+
+She had read her manuscript aloud to her father, and he had laughed and
+wiped his eyes and given sundry appreciative exclamations.
+
+"That writing takes a precious sight of time," her mother had
+remonstrated.
+
+"That is because I am human." Tessa had answered soberly.
+
+"Suppose it is refused."
+
+"Then I'll be like William Howitt; his book was refused four times and
+he stood on London bridge ready to toss it over. I do not think that I
+will do as Charlotte Bronte did; she sent a rejected manuscript to a
+publisher wrapped in the wrapper in which the first publisher had rolled
+it. I suppose that his address was printed on it."
+
+She had run on merrily as she had placed the cool, pure lilies in the
+vase; but her heart was sinking, nevertheless. It had always taken so
+little to exhilarate or depress her.
+
+"Must you write to-day?" inquired her mother one morning in an
+unsatisfied tone.
+
+"Several hours."
+
+"I wanted you to make calls with me and to help me with the currant
+jelly and to put those button-holes into my linen wrapper."
+
+"I can do it all, but I must write while I am fresh."
+
+The first hour she wrote wearily; then she lost the small struggles in
+her own life and became comforted through the comfort wherewith she
+comforted others. Not one thing was forgotten, not one household duty
+shirked, the jelly was made to perfection, the button-holes worked while
+her mother was taking her afternoon nap, the calls were pushed through,
+and then Mrs. Wadsworth proposed a call upon Mrs. Towne.
+
+"I promised your Aunt Dinah that I would call."
+
+Tessa demurred although she remembered her promise; she much preferred
+calling some time when Aunt Dinah should be with her; Mrs. Wadsworth
+insisted and Tessa yielded more graciously in manner than in mind.
+
+Mrs. Towne received them most cordially and gracefully; an expression
+flitted over her eyes as Tessa looked up into them that she never
+forgot; it touched her as Dr. Lake's eyes did, sometimes; what could
+this beautiful old mother need in her? Whatever it might be, she felt
+fully prepared to give it.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth was as effusively talkative as usual; Tessa replied when
+spoken to; lively, fussy, pretty little Mrs. Wadsworth did not compare
+to her own advantage with her womanly daughter. Mrs. Towne looked at
+Tessa and thought of the picture that she had seen; it was certainly
+excellent only that the picture was rather too intellectual; in the
+picture she might have written "Mechanism of the Heavens" but sitting
+there in the crimson velvet chair with a pale blue bow among her braids
+and her soft gray veil shading her cheek she was more like the daughter
+that she had ever dreamed of--simple, sweet, and thoroughly lovable Mrs.
+Towne was a trifle afraid of a woman who looked _too_ intellectual.
+Would she forgive Ralph and trust him again? She was sure that she would
+until Tessa unbuttoned her glove and drew it off; the slight, strong
+hand was a revelation; the girl had a will of her own. But might not her
+will be towards him? "I wish that I knew nothing," thought the mother,
+"the suspense will weary me, the disappointment will be nearly as much
+for me as for the boy."
+
+Meanwhile, unconscious Tessa, with the glove in her fingers, was far
+away in the Milan cathedral on the wall opposite her, looking into the
+arches of the choir, feeling the sunlight through the glimmering painted
+windows, thinking about the procession of the scarlet-robed priests, and
+wondering about the hidden chancel; if the picture were upon her wall
+how it would glow and become alive in the western light, the drooping
+banners would stir with the breath of the evening, the censers would
+swing and the notes of the organ would bear her up and away. Away!
+Where? Was not all her world in this little Dunellen?
+
+"My son is always busy; he rushes into every thing that he undertakes."
+
+The mother had a voice like the son's; the soul of sincerity was in it;
+the sincere, sympathetic voice, the rush of feeling, love, regret, and
+sense of loss that it brought filled her eyes too full to be raised. At
+that instant Mrs. Towne was observing her; her heart grew lighter,
+hoping for the thing that might be.
+
+Mrs. Towne held Tessa's hand at parting. "I am an old woman, so I may
+ask a favor of a young one, will you come soon again?"
+
+"Thank you, yes."
+
+"And often?"
+
+Then she had to promise again. Dr. Towne was seldom at home; she thought
+of this when she promised. She was thinking of it that evening in the
+early twilight as she weeded among her pansies. Dine said that it was a
+wonder that she had not turned into a pansy herself by this time.
+
+"Daughter, why do you sigh?"
+
+Her father was seated in a rustic chair on the piazza with a copy of
+_Burns_ unopened upon his knee; he had left the store earlier than usual
+that afternoon, complaining of the old pain in his side.
+
+"My sigh must be very loud or your ears very sharp," she replied,
+lifting her head. "I will bring you some perfect pansies."
+
+He took them and looked down at them; she stood at his side smoothing
+the straggling locks on his bald forehead with her perfumed, soiled
+fingers. "I think that if I knew nothing about God but that He made
+pansies, I should love Him for that," she said at last.
+
+"Is _that_ what you were sighing over?"
+
+"The sigh came out of the heart of the pansy. I wish I knew how to love
+somebody."
+
+"Is that what you were sighing over?"
+
+"I do not know how," rubbing the soil from her fingers, "to love when I
+lose faith. I do not know how and it worries me."
+
+"You mean that you do not know how to honor and trust when you lose
+faith. Are you so far on the journey of life as that? Must I
+congratulate you, daughter?"
+
+"No; teach me."
+
+"No human teaching can teach you to love where you have lost faith."
+
+"Well; nobody asks me to!"
+
+"If any body ever does, look at your own failings; that pulls me
+through."
+
+"I understand that," still speaking in a troubled voice, "but all the
+love and patience do no good; people do not change because we love
+them."
+
+"No, they do not change, but _we_ change."
+
+"That is not enough for me; I am not satisfied with the blessing of
+giving, I want the other somebody to have the blessing of receiving."
+
+"We do not know the end."
+
+"You two people do find queer things to talk about," cried a lively
+voice behind them. "If I knew what mystical meant, I should say that it
+was you and Tessa. Don't you want to hear all about Mrs. Towne, and what
+a _lovely_ room we were taken into?"
+
+"Yes, dear, and how her hair was fixed and just how she was dressed."
+
+Tessa ran back to her pansies; Mrs. Wadsworth had found a theme to
+enlarge upon for the next half hour. As Tessa worked among the flowers,
+a poem that she had learned that day while making the button-holes sang
+itself through and through her heart.
+
+ "Oh the hurt and the hurt and the hurt of love!
+ Wherever the sun shines, the waters go,
+ It hurts the snowdrop, it hurts the dove,
+ God on His throne, and man below.
+ But sun would not shine nor waters go,
+ Snowdrop tremble nor fair dove moan,
+ God be on high, nor man below,
+ But for love--the love with its hurt alone.
+ Thou knowest, O, Saviour, its hurt and its sorrows,
+ Didst rescue its joy by the might of Thy pain;
+ Lord of all yesterdays, days, and to-morrows,
+ Help us love on in the hope of Thy gain!
+ Hurt as it may, love on, love forever;
+ Love for love's sake like the Father above,
+ But for whose brave-hearted Son we had never
+ Known the sweet hurt of the sorrowful love."
+
+"I am not sincere in repeating that," she mused. "I _don't_ love on,
+love forever--and I don't want to! If I were in a book, every thing would
+make no difference, nothing would make a difference--would love on, love
+forever--and I don't know how. I wish I did. It would not change _him_,
+but it would make _me_ very glad and very good! I can not attain to it."
+
+The grazing sound of wheels brought her back to the pansies, then to Dr.
+Lake; he had driven up close to the opening in the lilac shrubbery.
+
+"Ah, Mystic."
+
+"Good evening, doctor."
+
+It was the first time that they had been alone together since Sue's
+engagement. She had been dreading this first time. She arose and brushed
+her hands against each other, moving towards the opening in the lilacs.
+
+"I saw you, and could not resist the temptation of stopping to speak to
+you."
+
+"Thank you," she said warmly. "Will you have a lily?"
+
+"No, lilies are not for me. Briers and thorns grow for me."
+
+"Where are you riding to now?"
+
+"Felix Harrison came home yesterday worse than ever. I was there in the
+night and am going again. Why don't he die now that he has a chance?
+Catch me throwing away such an opportunity."
+
+"I hope that you will never have such an opportunity," she answered, not
+thinking of what she was saying.
+
+"That's always the way; the lucky ones die, the unlucky ones live."
+
+"Can you not resist the temptation to tell me any thing so trite as
+that?"
+
+"Don't be sharp, Mystic."
+
+She was leaning against the low fence, her hands folded over each other,
+a breath of air stirring the wavy hair around her temples, and touching
+the pale blue ribbon at her throat, a white, graceful figure, speaking
+in her animated way with the flush of the pink rose tinting her cheeks
+and a misty veil shadowing her eyes.
+
+"A very pretty picture in a frame-work of brown and green," thought the
+old man in the rustic chair on the piazza.
+
+But she never thought of making a picture of herself, she left such
+small coquetries to girls who had nothing better to do or to think of.
+She had her life to live and her books to write! Nevertheless two pairs
+of eyes found her pleasant to look upon. Dr. Lake's experiences had
+opened his eyes to see that Tessa Wadsworth was unlike any woman that he
+had ever known; she was to him the calm of the moonlight, the fragrance
+of the spring, and the restfulness of trust.
+
+In these weeks of his trouble, had she been like some other of the
+Dunellen girls, she would have found her way without pushing into his
+heart by the wide door that shallow Sue had left ajar.
+
+His heart was open to any attractive woman who would sympathize with
+him; to any woman who would be glad of what Sue Greyson had thrown away;
+she might have become aware of this but for her instinctive habit of
+looking upward to love; even the tenderest compassion mingled with some
+admiration could not grow into love with her in her present moods; she
+was too young and asked too much of life for such a possibility.
+
+In these days every man was too far below George Macdonald and Frederick
+Robertson, unless indeed it might be the new Greek professor; in her
+secret heart she had begun to wonder if Philip Towne were not something
+like them both; perhaps because in his sermon that Sunday twilight in
+the Park he had quoted a "declaration of Robertson's"--"I am better
+acquainted with Jesus Christ than I am with any man on earth."
+
+The words came to her as she stood, to-night, talking with Dr Lake; she
+was wishing that she might repeat them to him; instead she only replied,
+"Why shouldn't I be sharp? You are a man and therefore able to bear it."
+
+"Not much of a man--or wholly a man. I reckon that is nearer right. I
+never saw a man yet that a blow from a woman's little finger wouldn't
+knock him over."
+
+"Not any woman's finger."
+
+"Any thing would blow me over to-night. Why do women have to make so
+many things when they are married?" he asked earnestly.
+
+"To keep the love they have won," she said with a mischievous laugh.
+"Don't you know how soon roses fade after they are rudely torn from the
+protection and nourishment of the parent stem?"
+
+"Rudely! They flutter, they pant, they struggle to tear themselves
+loose! Why do you suppose that she prefers Stacey to me?"
+
+"I don't know all things."
+
+"You know that. Answer."
+
+"She does not prefer _him_. He is the smallest part of her calculations.
+Marriage with you would make no change in her life; she seeks change;
+she has never been married and lived in Philadelphia--therefore to be
+married and live in Philadelphia must be glorious."
+
+"Then if I had money to take her anywhere and everywhere she would have
+married me. I'll turn highwayman to get rich then. She shows me every
+pretty thing she makes; dresses up in all her new dresses and asks me if
+I feel like the bridegroom lends me her engagement ring when she is
+tired of it. I'd bite it in two if I dared--reads me his letters and asks
+me to help her answer them for she can only write a page and a half out
+of her own head."
+
+Tessa laughed; it was better to laugh than to be angry, and Sue could
+not be any body but Sue Greyson.
+
+"She says that her only objection to him is his name and age; she likes
+my name better, and scribbles Sue Greyson Lake over his old envelopes. I
+would like to send him one of them. I was reading in the paper this
+morning of a man who shot the girl that refused him; if I don't shoot
+her it will not be her fault, she is driving me mad. If I can't have her
+myself, _he_ sha'n't!"
+
+She dropped her hands and turned away from him.
+
+"Mystic." But she was among the pansies again.
+
+"Mystic," with the tone in his voice that she would never forget, "come
+back. Don't _you_ throw me over; I shall go to destruction if you do."
+
+"I can not help you. You do not try to help yourself."
+
+"I know it. I don't want to be helped. I drift. I have no will to
+struggle. She plays with me like a cat with a mouse. I do not know what
+I am about half the time. I will take a double dose of morphine some
+night. I wonder if she would cry if she saw me dead. Men have done such
+things with less provocation; men of my temperament, too. Would _you_ be
+sorry, Mystic?"
+
+She stretched out her hands to take his hand in both hers: "Don't talk
+so," she said brokenly. "You know you do not mean it; why can't you be
+brave and good? I didn't know that men were so weak."
+
+"I _am_ weak--I have strayed, I have wandered away--but I can go back."
+
+Long afterward she remembered these words; they, with his last "good-by,
+Mystic," were all that she cared to remember among all the words that he
+had ever spoken to her.
+
+She did not speak; she moved her fingers caressingly over his hand,
+thinking how pliant and feminine, how characteristic, it was.
+
+"I know a woman's heart," he ran on lightly; "she is not a sacred
+mystery to me, as the fellows say in books. I dissected an old negro
+woman's heart once; she died of enlargement of the heart, so that it was
+as much a study as the largest heart of her kind. Sue is going out
+to-night with Towne and his mother--it's a pity that _he_ wouldn't step
+in now--she might let us all have a fair fight, and old Gesner, too, with
+his simpering voice! She would take Gesner only he doesn't propose.
+'Thirty days hath September.' I wish it had thirty thousand. When I was
+a youngster, and got a beating for not learning that, I little thought
+that one day I _would_ learn it and count the days every night. Oh, that
+rare and radiant first of October! Do you know," bending forward and
+lowering his tone, "that she is more than half inclined to throw him
+over?"
+
+"She is never more than half inclined to do anything," answered Tessa
+indignantly. "I wish that he were here to keep her out of mischief. Why
+do you stay so much with her? Surely you have business enough to keep
+you out of her presence."
+
+He laughed excitedly. "Keep a starving man away from bread when he has
+only to stretch out his hand and snatch it."
+
+"You have found that your doll is stuffed with sawdust, can't you toss
+it aside?"
+
+"I love sawdust," he answered, comically.
+
+"Then I'm ashamed of you."
+
+"You haven't seen other men tried."
+
+"It is no honor to you to be thinking of her under existing
+circumstances."
+
+"I would run away with her to-night if she would run with me."
+
+"Then I despise you."
+
+"You love like a woman, Mystic; I love like a man."
+
+"I hope that no man will ever dishonor himself or dishonor me with love
+like that."
+
+As he stooped to pick up his glove, his breath swept her cheek; she
+started, almost exclaiming as she drew back, flushed and bewildered. He
+colored angrily, then laughed an excited, reckless laugh, and gathered
+the reins which had been hanging loose.
+
+"Dr. Lake," in a hurried, tremulous voice, "please don't do that. Oh,
+why must you? Why can't you be brave?" Her voice was choking with tears.
+"I did not _think_ such a thing of you."
+
+"Of course you didn't! But I will not do it again--I really will not. I
+am half mad as I told you. Good night, Mystic."
+
+"Good night," she said sadly.
+
+He held the reins still lingering.
+
+"Will you ride with me again some day?"
+
+"No, I don't like to hear you talk."
+
+Again she went back to her pansies; the innocent pansies with their
+faint, pure breath were more congenial. As he drove under the maples, he
+muttered words that would have startled her as much as his tainted
+breath.
+
+"Do you like it in this world, little pansies?" she sighed.
+
+Her father laid his book within a window on the sill, and came down to
+her to talk about the buds of the day-lilies; her mother fanned herself
+with a palm-leaf fan and complained of the heat; Dinah ran down-stairs,
+fresh and airy in green muslin with a scarlet geranium among her curls,
+and after standing still to ask if she looked pretty, ran across to the
+planks to walk up and down with Norah Bird with their arms linked and
+their heads close together.
+
+Tessa sighed again, remembering the old confidential talks with Laura
+when they both cared for the same things before she had outgrown Laura.
+There were so many things in her world to be sighed about to-night; the
+thought of Felix threw all her life into shadow; Norah and Dinah were
+laughing over some silly thing, and her mother was vigorously waving the
+fan and vigorously fretting at the heat and the dust in this same hour
+in which Felix--her bright, good Felix--was moaning out his feeble
+strength. She had not dared to ask Dr. Lake how he was; what comfort
+would it be to know that he was a little better or a little worse? How
+could she talk to him of her busy life and take him a copy of her book?
+She was counting the days, also; for in October her book would surely be
+out.
+
+"You think more of that than you would of being married," Dinah had said
+that day.
+
+"So I do--than to be married to any one I know."
+
+"Do you expect to find somebody _new_?"
+
+"Perhaps I do not expect to find any one at all," she had answered.
+
+"Oh, don't be so dreary," laughed Dinah.
+
+_Was_ that dreary? Once it might have seemed dreary; a year ago with
+what a smiting pain she would have echoed the word, but it was not a
+dreary prospect to-night as she stood with her father's arm about her.
+
+A new thing had happened to disturb her; Dinah was becoming shy and
+constrained in the presence of Mr. Hammerton; last summer she would run
+out to meet him, hang on his arm and chatter like a magpie; this summer
+she would oftener avoid him than move forward to greet him; this
+shamefacedness was altogether new and very becoming, yet the elder
+sister did not like it. There was no change in Mr. Hammerton, why should
+there be change in Dinah or in herself? He came no oftener than he had
+come last summer, he manifested no preference, sometimes she thought
+that this non-manifestation was too studied; gifts were brought to each,
+were it books or flowers. Did poor little Dine care for him, and was she
+so afraid of revealing it? Or, had she decided that it was for _her_
+sake that he came, and did she leave them so often together alone that
+it might be pleasanter for both? More than once or twice when he was
+expected, she had pleaded an engagement with Norah, and had not appeared
+until late in the evening.
+
+"I wonder what's got Dine," their mother had remarked, "she seems
+possessed to run away from Gus."
+
+Their father had looked annoyed and exclaimed, "Nonsense, mother,
+nonsense."
+
+Tessa's reverie was ended by Mr. Hammerton's quick step upon the planks.
+
+"He was here last night," commented Mrs. Wadsworth as he crossed the
+street.
+
+"Good evening, good people," he said opening the gate. "You make quite a
+picture! If you had fruit and wine I should rub up my French or Spanish.
+I think that I am not too late; I did not hear until after tea that
+Professor Towne is to read tonight in Association Hall; some of your
+favorites, Lady Blue. Will you go, you and Dine?"
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed; that is just what I want."
+
+"It is to be selections from 'Henry V.,' 'The High Tide,' 'Locksley
+Hall,' I think, and a few lighter things. You will think that you would
+rather elocute 'The High Tide' than even to have written it."
+
+"That is impossible. Did you tell Dine?"
+
+"No, but I will. It was proper to ask the elder sister was it not?"
+
+"I am not Leah," said Tessa seriously, "call Rachel."
+
+"Rachel! Rachel!" he called, beckoning to Dinah. Dinah whistled by way
+of reply and dropped Norah's arm.
+
+"Have you brought me Mother Goose or a sugar-plum?" she asked lightly.
+"And why do you call me Rachel?"
+
+"Don't talk nonsense, children," said Mr. Wadsworth very gravely. The
+color deepened in Mr. Hammerton's cheeks and forehead as he met the old
+man's grave eyes. "Mother, let's you and I go too," proposed Mr.
+Wadsworth, "we will imagine it to be twenty-seven years ago."
+
+"I only wish it was," was the dissatisfied reply.
+
+That evening was an event in Tessa's quiet life: she heard no sound but
+the reader's voice, she saw no face but his; she drew a long breath when
+the last words were uttered.
+
+"Was it so good as all that?" whispered Mr. Hammerton. "You shall go to
+the Chapel with me next Sunday and hear him preach about 'Meditation.'"
+
+Dr. Towne, his mother, and Sue Greyson were seated near them; she did
+not observe the group until she arose to leave the hall.
+
+"Wasn't it stupid?" muttered Sue, catching at her sleeve. "And isn't he
+perfectly elegant? Almost as elegant as the doctor."
+
+"You will not forget your promise?" Mrs. Towne said as Tessa turned
+towards her.
+
+"Has Miss Tessa been making you a promise? She does not know how to
+break her word," said Dr. Towne.
+
+"You do not need to tell me that; her eyes are promise-keepers."
+
+Mrs. Towne kept her at her side until they reached the entrance and
+would have detained her until Professor Towne had made his way to them,
+had not Mr. Hammerton understood by the moving of her lips that she was
+not pleased and hurried her away.
+
+"I hope that I shall never become acquainted with Professor Towne,"
+exclaimed Tessa nervously, as Mr. Hammerton drew her hand within his
+arm.
+
+"Why not? I thought that you were wrapped up in him as the young ladies
+say."
+
+"Suppose I make a hole in him and find him stuffed with sawdust."
+
+"You could immediately retire into a convent."
+
+Dinah had mischievously fallen behind with her father and mother.
+
+"Then I could never find my _good_ man?"
+
+"Must you find him or die forlorn?"
+
+For several moments she found no answer: then the words came
+deliberately; "Perhaps I _need_ not; I wonder why I thought there was a
+_must_ in the matter; why may I not be happy and helpful without ending
+as good little girls do in fairy stories? I need not live or die
+forlorn--and yet--Gus, you are the only person in the whole world to whom
+I would confess that I would rather be like the good little girl in the
+fairy story! Please forget it."
+
+"It is too pleasant to forget," he answered. "I do not want you to be
+too ambitious or too wise for the good old fashions of wife and mother!"
+
+"How can any woman be that!" she exclaimed indignantly.
+
+"May you never know."
+
+"What an easy time Eve had! All she had to do was to be led to Adam. She
+would not have chosen him a while afterward; he was altogether too much
+under her influence."
+
+"That weakness has become a part of our original sin."
+
+"It isn't yours," she retorted.
+
+"Am I so different from other men?" he asked in a constrained voice.
+
+"Most assuredly. I should as soon think of a whole row of encyclopedias
+falling in love."
+
+Mr. Hammerton was silent, for once repartee failed him.
+
+Suddenly she asked, "Is your imagination a trial to you?"
+
+"Haven't you often told me that I am stupid as an old geometry."
+
+"And I hate geometry."
+
+"You read, you write, you live, you love through your imagination. You
+wrap the person you love in a rosy mist that is the breath of your
+hopeful heart, and you see your hero through that mist. Of course the
+mist fades and you have but the ugly outline--then, without stopping to
+see what God hath wrought, you cry out, 'Oh, the horrible! the
+dreadful!' and run away with your fingers in your ears."
+
+A few silent steps, then she said, "I deserve that. It is all true. Why
+did you not tell me before?"
+
+"I left it to time and common sense."
+
+"It will take a great deal of both to make me sensible," she answered
+humbly, and then added, "if suffering would root out my fancies--but I am
+like the child that tumbles and tumbles, and then tumbles again. I need
+to be guided by such a steady hand. Sometimes I do long so for somebody
+to do me good."
+
+Her companion's silence might be sympathetic; as such she interpreted
+it, or she could not have said what she never ceased wondering at
+herself for saying--"I am not disappointed in love; but I _am_
+disappointed in loving. I thought that love was once and forever. Poets
+say so."
+
+"Yes, but we do not know how they live their poetry."
+
+"I know that my poetry fails me when extremity comes."
+
+"Has the extremity come?"
+
+"Yes," she said bravely.
+
+"And that is another thing that I am not to know."
+
+"Not for five and fifty years. I will pigeon-hole all my experiences for
+you--if there is no one to object on my side or yours."
+
+"What about the reading? Was it all that you expected?"
+
+"Wait a minute; call Dine before we talk it over."
+
+They had outwalked the others; Mr. Hammerton's strides would not be
+pleasant to keep pace with in the long walk of life, as Dinah had once
+told him. It was a truth that no one recognized so well as himself, that
+he lacked the power of adaptation; he was too tall or too short, too
+broad or too narrow, too crooked or too straight for any niche in
+Dunellen, but the one that he had found in his boyhood by the snug, safe
+corner in the home where Dinah was growing up to entangle herself in his
+heart, and Tessa, lovable and wise, to enthrone herself in his
+intellect. In the game of forfeits, when he had been doomed to "Bow to
+the wittiest, kneel to the prettiest, and kiss the one you love the
+best," in the long ago evenings, when they were all, old and young,
+children together, he had always bowed to Tessa and knelt to bewitching
+little Dine and kissed her. Now he bowed to Tessa, but he did not kiss
+Dine.
+
+They stood waiting near a lamp-post; he, fidgeting as usual, she,
+straight and still.
+
+"Lady Blue, you never put me on a pedestal, did you?"
+
+"No, you never kept still long enough."
+
+Professor Towne passed them with Mrs. Towne leaning upon his arm; Mrs.
+Towne bowed and smiled, he lifted his hat in recognition of Tessa's
+hesitating half inclination.
+
+"Why, Tessa! Do you know him?"
+
+"I almost spoke to him one day by mistake; I did not intend to bow, but
+he looked at me--I suppose the bow bowed itself."
+
+"He has a noble presence! He is altogether finer physically than his
+cousin."
+
+"I don't know that he is," she answered wilfully. Dinah came willingly
+enough; they walked more slowly and talked.
+
+"Tessa," began Dine abruptly as they were brushing their hair at
+bedtime, "isn't Gus a fine talker?"
+
+"Is he like Coleridge? He could talk four hours without interruption,
+but sometimes his listeners, learned men too, did not understand a word
+of it."
+
+"I do not always understand Gus."
+
+"Gus does not ramble; he is plain enough."
+
+Dine brushed out a long curl and looked down upon it. "I shall ask him
+to give me a list of books that I ought to read."
+
+"I confess that while I understand what he says I do not understand
+_him_. If you do, you are wiser than I."
+
+"I guess that I am wiser than you."
+
+"I used to think that I understood people; I have come to the conclusion
+that I do not understand even my own self."
+
+"Do you like garnet? I want a garnet in some material this winter. Gus
+says that I am a butterfly."
+
+"Yes, you are pretty in warm colors."
+
+Tessa drew a chair to the open window and sat a long time leaning her
+elbows on the sill with her face towards the Harrison Homestead. Felix
+had always been so proud of the old house with its tiled chimney-pieces,
+with its ancient crockery brought from Holland and the iron bound Bible
+with the names of his ancestors; for two hundred years the place had
+been held in the Harrison name, a great-great-grandfather having
+purchased the land from the Indians. He had said once to her, "I have a
+good old honest name to give to you, Tessa." She would have worn his
+name worthily for his sake; if it might be,--but her father would hold
+her back,--why should she not sacrifice herself? Was not Felix worthy of
+her devotion? What other grander thing could she ever do? The moon was
+rising; she changed her position to watch it and did not leave it until
+it stood high above the apple orchard.
+
+
+
+
+XIV.--WHEAT, NOT BREAD.
+
+
+Early one evening Tessa was writing alone in her own chamber; Dinah was
+spending a few days in Dunellen; while Dinah was away she wrote more
+than usual out of her loneliness.
+
+Becoming wearied she laid the neat manuscript away and began scribbling
+with a pencil on a half sheet of foolscap; the disconnected words
+revealed the thoughts that had been troubling her all day.
+
+"Counsel. Waiting. Asking. Deception. Years and years. Oh, I _want_ to
+go to heaven."
+
+A tap at the door sounded twice before it broke upon her reverie;
+absent-mindedly she opened the door, but the absent-mindedness was lost
+in the flash of light that burst over her face when she recognized, in
+the twilight, the one person in all the world whom she wished to see.
+
+"Oh, I was wishing for you! Did some good spirit send you."
+
+"I have been feeling all day that you wanted me," said the little woman
+suffering herself to be drawn into the room. "What are you doing?"
+
+"Feeling wicked and miserable and wanting to go to heaven."
+
+"You are not the kind to go to heaven, you are the kind to stay on
+earth; what would you do in heaven if you do not love to do God's will
+on earth?"
+
+Tessa drew her rocker nearer the open window and seated her guest in it,
+moved a low seat beside it, and sat down folding her hands in her lap.
+
+"What shall I do on earth?" she asked.
+
+"What you are told."
+
+"I can not always see or hear what I must do."
+
+"That's a pity."
+
+"Can you?"
+
+"I could not once; I can now."
+
+"How can you now?"
+
+"Because I desire but one thing--and that is always made plain to me."
+
+"But how can you get over _wanting_ things?"
+
+"I can not."
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"I mean only this, dear child; I do want things, but I want God's will
+most of all."
+
+"Sometimes I think I do, and then I _know_ that I do not. Do you think,"
+lowering her voice and speaking more slowly, "that He ever _deceives_
+any body?"
+
+"He sometimes, oftentimes, allows them to be deceived,--is that what you
+mean?"
+
+"He does not do it."
+
+"No, but He allows others to do it."
+
+"Not--when--they pray--about it and ask what they may do--would He let
+somebody who prayed be deceived?"
+
+Miss Jewett was removing her gloves. She smoothed out each finger and
+thumb before she spoke, and laid them on the window-sill.
+
+"I have been trying to think--oh, now, I know! Do you not remember one
+whom He permitted to be deceived after asking His counsel?"
+
+"No. I thought the thing impossible. I do not see how such a thing can
+be."
+
+"It can be; it has been. What for, do you suppose?"
+
+"To teach some lesson. I am learning--oh, how bitterly!--that His teaching
+is the best of His gifts."
+
+"So it is, child; but oh, how we have to be crushed before we can
+believe it. Is your life so hard? It appears a very happy life to me."
+
+"So every one else thinks. I suppose it would be, but that I make my own
+trials; _do_ I make them? No, I don't! How can I make things hard when I
+only do what seems the only right thing to do. Tell me about that
+somebody who was deceived--like me," she added.
+
+"He was a priest; he ministered before the Lord, and he believed in
+David, because he was an honorable man, and high in the king's
+household; so when David came to him and said: 'The king hath commanded
+me a business, and hath said unto me, Let no man know it,' of course, he
+believed him, and when he asked him for bread the old priest would have
+given it, not thinking that in harboring the king's son-in-law he was
+guilty of treason; but he had no bread; he had nothing but the
+shew-bread, which only the priests might eat. He did not dare give him
+that until he asked counsel of the Lord. No priest had ever dared
+before, and how could he dare? But David and his men were starving, they
+dared go to no one else for help; but the priest didn't know that, poor,
+old, trustful man, so he asked counsel, and having obtained permission,
+he gave to David the hallowed bread. That was right, because our Lord
+approves of it; then David asked for Goliath's sword, and he gave him
+that, and went to sleep that night as sweetly as the night before, I
+have no doubt, because he had asked counsel of the Lord and followed
+it."
+
+"Did any harm come to him?" asked Tessa, quickly.
+
+"Harm! He lost his head; Saul slew him for treason; and he pleaded
+before the king: 'And who is so faithful among all thy servants as
+David, which is the king's son-in-law, and goeth at thy bidding, and is
+honorable in thine house?' God could have warned him or have brought to
+his ears the news that David was an outlaw, but He suffered him to be
+deceived and lose his life for trusting in the man who was telling him a
+lie."
+
+After a silence Tessa said: "He _had_ to obey! I'm glad that he obeyed;
+I believe that was written just for me. I asked God once to let somebody
+love me, and I trusted him, because I thought that God had given him to
+me--and it has broken my heart with shame. I did not know before that He
+let me be deceived; I knew that I was obeying Him, but I thought that my
+humiliation was my punishment for doing I knew not what."
+
+"Now I know the secret of some of your articles that I have cried over;
+not less than ten people told me how much they were helped by that
+article of yours, 'Night and Day.'"
+
+"I have three letters that I will show you sometime; I know that my
+trouble has worn a channel in my heart through which God's blessing
+flows; except for that I should have almost died."
+
+"You do not look like dying; your eyes are as clear as a bell, and
+there's plenty of fun in you yet."
+
+"The fun and sarcasm are a little bit sanctified, I think; I never say
+sharp things nowadays."
+
+"Perhaps the answer to your prayer has not all come yet; sometimes the
+answer is given to us to spoil it or use as we please, just as the
+mother gives the child five cents in answer to his coaxing, and the hap
+or mishap of it is in his hands. Perhaps He has given you the wheat, and
+you must grind it and bake it into bread; be careful how you grind and
+how you knead and bake! To some people, like Sue Greyson, He gives bread
+ready baked, but you can receive more, and therefore to you He gives
+more--more opportunity and more discipline. To be born with a talent for
+discipline, Tessa, is a wonderful gift, and oh, how such have to be
+taught! Would you rather be like flighty Sue?"
+
+"No, oh, no, indeed," shivered Tessa, "but she can go to sleep when I
+have to lie awake."
+
+"Now I must go."
+
+"I'll walk to the end of the planks with you."
+
+Tessa was too much moved to care to talk; the walk with Miss Jewett was
+almost as silent as her walk homeward alone.
+
+
+
+
+XV.--SEPTEMBER.
+
+
+If Miss Jewett had not been once upon a laughing time a girl herself,
+she would have wondered where the girls in Dunellen found so much to
+laugh about. Nan Gerard laughed. Sue Greyson laughed, and Tessa
+Wadsworth laughed; they laughed separately, and they laughed together;
+they cried separately, too, but they did not cry together. Nan knew that
+it was September, because she had planned to come to Dunellen in
+September; Sue knew, because so few days remained before her
+wedding-day; and Tessa knew, because she found the September golden rod
+and pale, fall daisies in her long walks towards Mayfield; she knew it,
+also, because her book was copied and at the publishers', awaiting the
+decision over which she trembled in anticipation night and day. One
+morning, late in the month, she found at the post-office a long, thick,
+yellow envelope, containing two dozens of pictures; several of them she
+had seen long ago in Sunday-school books, those that were new to her,
+appeared cut or torn from some book; the letter enclosed with the
+pictures requested her to write a couple of books and to use those
+pictures.
+
+"I've heard of illustrating books," she laughed to herself, "but it
+seems that I must illustrate pictures."
+
+Coaxing Miss Jewett into her little parlor, she showed her the pictures,
+and read aloud the letter.
+
+"I think it is a great compliment to you," said the little woman,
+admiringly. "You do not seem to think of that."
+
+"Father will think so. You and he are such humble people, that you think
+me exalted! Women have become famous before they were as old as I."
+
+"You may become famous yet."
+
+"It isn't in me. Genius is bold; if it were in me, I should find some
+way of knowing it. My work is such a little bit, such a poor little bit.
+But I do like the letter."
+
+"You will be glad of it when you are old."
+
+"I am glad of it now."
+
+She read it again: the penmanship was straggling and ugly.
+
+"I do not know how to talk to you; you remind me of Tryphena and
+Tryphosa; St. Paul would know what to say to you. You seem to have no
+worldliness in your aims. Your style is impressive. I think that we can
+keep your pen busy. Your last manuscript is still in the balance."
+
+"If it be found wanting, what shall I do! The suspense wears upon me."
+
+"I begin to understand why mediocrity is long-lived. Don't be a goose,
+child."
+
+Mr. Wadsworth was at his desk; he read the letter through twice without
+comment.
+
+"Well!" she said, playing with a morsel of pink blotting paper.
+
+"It's _beautiful_, daughter."
+
+She wondered why it did not seem so much to her as it did to him and to
+Miss Jewett.
+
+"I expect that Dine will take to authorship next."
+
+Tessa's lips were keeping a secret, for Dine was writing a little story.
+When had she ever failed to attempt the thing that Tessa had done? She
+had not taken Tessa's place in school, and had been graduated much
+nearer the foot of her class than Tessa had ever stood; still she had
+Tessa's knack of writing stories, and telling stories, and had, at her
+urging, written a story for boys, which Tessa had criticised and copied;
+Dinah's penmanship being very pretty, but not at all plain. The letter
+made no allusion to the fate of Dinah's story; somewhat anxious about
+this, she slipped the bulky envelope into her pocket and turned her face
+homewards. Her winter's work was laid out for her; there was nothing to
+do but to do it.
+
+So full was she with plans for the books that she did not hear steps
+behind her and at her side until Sue Greyson nudged her.
+
+"Say, Tessa, turn down Market Street with me; I have something to tell
+you." The serious, startled voice arrested her instantly. What new and
+dreadful thing had Sue been doing now? Her only dread was for Dr. Lake.
+
+"I've been ordering things for dinner; we have dinner at four, so I can
+afford to run around town in the morning. I'm in a horrid fix and
+there's nobody to help me out."
+
+"What about?"
+
+"_I_ haven't been doing any thing; it's other people; it's always other
+people," she said plaintively, "somebody is always doing something to
+upset my plans. You do not sympathize with me, you never do."
+
+"I do not know how to sympathize with any thing that is not
+straightforward and true, and your course is rather zigzag."
+
+"Dr. Towne said--"
+
+"You haven't been talking to _him_," interrupted Tessa, flushing.
+
+"No, only he called to see father and I was home alone and he asked me
+what ailed me and I had to tell him that I didn't want to be married."
+
+"Well, what could he say?"
+
+"He said, 'Stay with your father and be a good girl,'" laughed Sue, "the
+last thing I would think of doing. Father looks so glum and says, 'Oh,
+my little girl, what shall I do without you! I wish that fellow was at
+the bottom of the sea!' So do I, too. I don't see why I ever promised to
+marry him! I think that I must have been bereft of my senses."
+
+"Why not ask him to wait a year--you will know your own mind--if you have
+any--by that time."
+
+"Oh, deary me! I'd be married to John Gesner or some other old fool with
+money by that time! You don't mind being an old maid, but _I_ do!"
+
+"How do you know that I don't mind?" Tessa could not forbear asking.
+
+"Oh, you wouldn't be so happy and like to do things. I believe that I
+like Gerald a great deal better any way."
+
+She grew frightened at Tessa's stillness; there was not one sympathetic
+line in the stern curving of her lips.
+
+"Have you told Dr. Lake that?"
+
+"You needn't cut me in two," laughed Sue uneasily, "men can't _sue_
+women for breach of promise can they?"
+
+"Answer me, please."
+
+Sue hesitated, colored, stammered, finally confessed in a weak voice
+that tried hard to be brave, "Yes, I have! There now! You can't hurt me!
+Father said last night that if I had taken Lake he would have given me
+the house and every thing in it 'for the old woman to keep house with,'
+you know! And then he said that it was hard for me to leave him now that
+he is growing old, that he would have to marry somebody that wouldn't
+care for him, that he never had had much pleasure in his life, that
+Gerald was a good physician and they could work together and how happy
+we might all have been! He was mad enough though when he first
+discovered that Gerald was in love with me; he threatened to send him
+off. But that's his way! He is one thing one day and another thing the
+next! And I couldn't help it, Tessa, I really, _really_ couldn't, but I
+was so homesick and just then Gerald came in--he looked so tired, his
+cough has come back, too--and when he said 'How many days yet, Susan?' I
+said quick, before I thought, 'I like you a hundred times better! I
+would rather marry you than Stacey.' And then he turned so white that I
+thought he was dead, and he said something, I don't know whether it was
+swearing or praying--and caught me in his arms, and said after that he
+would never let me go! And then I said--I said--I couldn't help it--that I
+would write to Stacey and send back the ring and he took it off and
+tossed it out the window! I And then I made him go and find it! Stacey
+can give it to some other girl. I didn't hurt it. I always took it off
+when I swept or wet my hands. Life is so uncertain, I thought that he
+might want it again."
+
+"Life _is_ uncertain. I never realized it until this minute."
+
+"Now your voice isn't angry," said poor Sue eagerly. "I want you to
+think that I have done right."
+
+"When my moral perceptions are blunted, I will."
+
+"Go away, saying 'moral perceptions.' I don't know what Dr. Towne will
+think either. Well, what's did can't be undid! Now Gerald says that I
+sha'n't put it off, but that I've got to marry him on that day. I know
+that you think it is horrid, but you never have lovers, so you don't
+know! I don't see why, either. You are a great deal prettier than I am.
+When I am tired, I am the lookingest thing, but you always look sweet
+and peaceful. Don't you think that I ought to please father and stay
+home? Why don't you say something? Are you struck dumb?"
+
+"I can not understand it--yet."
+
+"I think that I have made it plain enough," cried Sue, angrily. "You
+must be very stupid. You like Gerald so much--I used to be jealous--that
+you ought to be glad for him!"
+
+"I do like him. I like him so well, Sue, that I want him to have a
+faithful and true wife. O, Sue! Sue Greyson! What are you to take that
+man's life into your hands?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean. I love him, of course! If you think so much
+of him, why don't you marry him?"
+
+"The question is not worth a reply."
+
+"You ought to comfort me; I haven't any mother," returned Sue,
+miserably.
+
+"It is well for her that you haven't."
+
+"I don't see why you can't let me be comfortable," whined Sue; "every
+thing would be lovely if you didn't spoil it all. Gerald is as wild as a
+lunatic. He shall write to Stacey or father shall, or I'll be married
+beforehand and send him the paper. I could do it in ten days. Do come
+home with me, I want you to see my wedding dress! It's too lovely for
+any thing. My travelling dress is an elegant brown; I got brown to
+please Stacey, but Gerald likes it."
+
+"It's a good idea to choose a color that gentlemen like generally; life
+is so uncertain."
+
+"So it is," replied Sue, unconsciously. "I think that you might
+congratulate me," she added, with her hysterical laugh. "You didn't
+think that your gold thimble would make pretty things for Dr. Lake's
+wife, did you?"
+
+"I congratulate _you_! I hope that I may congratulate him, in time. Dr.
+Lake is trying to pour a gallon into a half pint. I hope that one of you
+will die before you make each other very miserable."
+
+"You mean thing," said Sue, almost crying.
+
+"I do not mean to hurt you, Sue, but you are doing something that is
+wretched beyond words. Don't you care at all for that poor fellow who
+loves you?"
+
+"Gerald loves me, too," she answered proudly. "You are ugly to me, and I
+haven't any body that I dare talk to but you. Mary Sherwood says that
+telling you things is like throwing things into the sea; nobody ever
+finds them."
+
+"I must be very full of rubbish."
+
+"We are going to Washington on our bridal trip; we can't stay long, for
+father will not spare Gerald. I shall ask nobody but Dr. Towne and his
+mother, and Miss Jewett, and you, and Dine. Will you come?" she asked
+hesitatingly.
+
+"I will come for Dr. Lake's sake."
+
+"I got a letter from Stacey this morning. I haven't opened it yet; it
+will make me very sad. I wish that I wasn't so sensitive about things.
+It's a dreadful trouble to me. I looked in the glass the first thing
+this morning expecting that my hair would be all white. I'm dying to
+show you my things; do come home with me."
+
+"Sue, do you ever say your prayers?"
+
+"To be sure I do," she replied, with a startled emphasis.
+
+"Then be sure to say them before you write to that poor fellow."
+
+"I wish that you would write for me. Will you come the night before and
+stay all night with me? I shall be so afraid that the roof will tumble
+in, or somebody come down the chimney to catch me, that I sha'n't sleep
+a wink."
+
+The curves of Tessa's lips relented. "Yes, I will come. If somebody come
+they shall catch me, too."
+
+"You are a darling, after all. We are to be married about noon; Day is
+to send in the breakfast and the waiters--that _was_ the plan, and if
+father isn't _too_ mad, I suppose he'll do the same now."
+
+She stood still at the corner. "Well, if I do not see you--good-by till
+the last night of your girlhood."
+
+"Last night of my girlhood," repeated Sue. "What are the other hoods?"
+
+"Womanhood."
+
+"Oh, yes, and _widowhood_," she said lightly.
+
+Tessa turned the corner and walked rapidly along the pavement.
+"Motherhood," she was thinking, "the sweetest hood of all! But I can
+sooner think of that in connection with a monkey or a butterfly than
+with Sue."
+
+At the next corner another interruption faced her in the forms of Mary
+Sherwood and laughing Naughty Nan.
+
+The lively chat was ended with an expostulation from Nan. "Now, Mary
+Sherwood, hurry. You know that I must do several things this afternoon.
+I'm going to Mayfield and Green Valley with the handsome black bear,
+Miss Wadsworth."
+
+It was the day for her afternoon with Mrs. Towne; it had chanced that
+she had given to her every Tuesday afternoon. It touched her to find the
+white-haired, feeble, old lady watching for her at the window. Tessa
+loved her because she was cultured and beautiful; she loved her voice,
+her shapely, soft hands, her pretty motions, her elegant and becoming
+dress, and because--O, foolish Tessa, for a reason that she had tossed
+away, scorning herself--she was Ralph Towne's mother. Not once in all
+these times had she met Dr. Towne in his own home; not until this
+afternoon in which he was to take Miss Gerard driving.
+
+"My mother is engaged with callers, Miss Tessa; she asked me to take you
+to her sitting-room, and to take care of you for half an hour."
+
+"I am sorry to trouble you," said she confusedly. "I want to see Miss
+Jewett; I will return in half an hour."
+
+"And not give me the pleasure of the half hour? When have you and I had
+half an hour together?"
+
+She remembered.
+
+"On the last night of the old year, was it not? Come with me and 'take
+off your things.' Isn't that the thing to say?"
+
+Unwillingly she followed him; he wheeled a chair into one of the wide
+windows overlooking the Park, laid away hat, sacque, and gloves, then
+seated himself lazily in the chair that he had wheeled to face her own.
+It was almost like the afternoons in the shabby parlor at home; so like
+them that she could not at first lift her eyes; in a mirror into which
+she had glanced, she had noticed how very pale lips and cheeks were and
+how dark her eyes were glowing.
+
+He bent forward in a professional manner and laid two fingers on her
+throbbing wrist. "Miss Tessa, what are you doing to lose flesh so?"
+
+With that, she lifted her eyes, the color coming with a rush. "Wouldn't
+you like to see my tongue, too?"
+
+"I know your tongue; it has a sharp point."
+
+"I am sorry."
+
+"No you are not," he answered settling himself back in an easy position,
+and taking a penknife from his pocket to play with. The small knife,
+with the pearl handle; how often she had seen that in his fingers. "You
+are a student, of human nature; tell me what you think of me."
+
+How could she give to that amused assurance the bare, ugly truth!
+
+"How many times have you changed your mind about me?"
+
+"Once, only once."
+
+"Then your first impression of me was not correct."
+
+With her usual directness, she answered, "No."
+
+The blade snapped. If she had seen but his face she would have supposed
+that he had cut himself. She hastened to speak: "Some one says that we
+must change our minds three times before we can be sure."
+
+"But I do not want to wait until you are sure."
+
+"I am sure now."
+
+"No doubt. Tell me now."
+
+How many times his irresistibly boyish manner had forced from her words
+that she had afterward sorely regretted!
+
+"You will not be pleased. You will dislike me forever after."
+
+"Much you will care for that."
+
+"Shall I not?" smiling at the humor in his eyes. "I think that I do not
+care as I once did for what people think of me; the question nowadays is
+what I think of them."
+
+"I will remember," he said urgently, "that I brought it all upon my own
+head."
+
+How could he guess that in her heart was lodged one unpleasant thought
+of him? Had she not a little while--such a little while since--cared so
+much for him that he was grieved for her?
+
+"You must promise not to be cross."
+
+"I promise," taking out his watch. "You may hammer at me for twenty
+minutes. I have an engagement at half past three."
+
+Did Nan Gerard care as she had cared once? Would the sound of his wheels
+be to Naughty Nan what they were to her a year ago? A blue and gold
+edition of Longfellow was laid open on its face on the broad
+window-sill; she ran her forefinger the length of both covers before she
+could temper her voice; she did not wish to speak coldly, and yet her
+heart was very cold towards him.
+
+"I think that you took me by surprise at first; I thought you were the
+handsomest man in the world--"
+
+"You have changed that opinion?" he said, laughing.
+
+"Yes; I should not think of describing you as handsome now; I should
+simply say that you were tall, dark, with deep-set, not remarkable,
+brown eyes, a quiet manner, given to few words--not at all remarkable,
+you are aware."
+
+"Go on, I am not demolished yet."
+
+"Your spirit I created out of my own fancies; I gave you in those
+enthusiastic days a heart like a woman's heart, and a perfect intellect.
+You were my Sir Galahad, until I knew that some things you said were
+not--quite true?"
+
+"Not quite true!" he repeated huskily.
+
+Her eyes as well as her fingers were on the blue covers.
+
+"Not true as I meant truth. Your words did not mean to you what they
+meant to me--I beg your pardon; do not let me savor of strong-mindedness,
+but I speak from my heart to your heart. You asked me a question
+frankly, I have answered it frankly. You said some things to Sue that
+you ought not to have said and that hurt me; I began to feel that you
+are not sincere through and through and through. At first I believed
+wholly in you and then I believed not at all. I was very bitter. And it
+hurt me so that I would rather have died."
+
+Her tone was as cold and even as if she were reciting a theorem in
+_Legendre_.
+
+"So you died because you were not true, but you did not go to heaven
+because you had never lived, and therefore I can not expect to find you
+again. I did not know before how sad such a burial is."
+
+"Why can not you expect to find me again?"
+
+"To find what? That fancy? If there is any one in the world as good, as
+true, as strong, gentle and sympathetic as my ideal, I surely hope to
+find that he is in the world."
+
+"You thought that his name was Ralph Towne, and now you know that his
+name is not Ralph Towne."
+
+"I do not know what his name may be."
+
+"You think the real Ralph Towne is a stranger not worth knowing?"
+
+"He is a stranger, certainly; whether or not he is worth knowing you
+know best."
+
+She laughed, but not the suspicion of a smile gleamed in his eyes; she
+had forgotten that they could be as dark and stern as this.
+
+"Time will show you, Miss Tessa," he said humbly.
+
+"I _am_ sharp. I did not mean to be. But it cuts me so when I think that
+you can flirt with girls like Sue and Miss Gerard. Do you know of what
+it reminds me? Once the enemy fell upon the rear of an army and smote
+all that were feeble, when they were faint and weary; it was an army of
+women and little children, as well as men, and they did not go forth to
+war; all they asked was a peaceable passage through the land."
+
+The door was pushed softly open; Tessa lifted her eyes to behold the
+rare vision of shining gray silk, and real lace, a fine face crowned
+with white braids and lighted by the softest and brownest of brown eyes.
+
+"My dear." All her motherhood was concentrated in the two worn-out
+words.
+
+"Now you may run away, Ralph."
+
+"I am very glad to," he said. "Good afternoon, Miss Tessa."
+
+Tessa could not trust her voice to speak; raising her eyes she met his
+fully as he turned at the door to speak to his mother; a long searching
+look on both sides; neither smiled.
+
+"Tessa, have you been quarrelling with my boy?"
+
+"No, ma'am."
+
+"Has he been quarrelling with you?"
+
+"No, ma'am."
+
+Mrs. Towne seated herself in the chair that Dr. Towne had vacated,
+arranged her dress and folded her hands in her lap.
+
+"It is Nan Gerard again! What a flirt that girl is! She called yesterday
+and Ralph chanced to come in while she was here; she gave him such an
+invitation to invite her to drive with him that he could not--that is, he
+did not--refuse. I wish that he wouldn't, sometimes; but he says that he
+is amused and no one is harmed. I am not so sure of that. I do not
+understand Miss Gerard. I think that I do not understand girls of this
+generation. But I understand you."
+
+"I wish that you would teach me to be as wise."
+
+"You will be by and by. Do you know what I would like to ask you to
+promise?"
+
+"I can not imagine."
+
+"I have studied you. If you will give yourself five years to think, to
+grow, you will marry at thirty the man that you would refuse to-day. You
+are impetuous to-day, you form your judgments rashly, you despise what
+you can not understand, and you are not yet capable of the love that
+hopeth all things, endureth all things, that suffereth long and is
+_kind_."
+
+"That is true; I am not capable of it. I have no patience with myself,
+nor with others."
+
+"If you will wait these five years, your life and another life might be
+more blessed."
+
+"Mrs. Towne! No one loves me. There is no occasion for me not to wait. I
+could promise without the least difficulty for the happiness or
+unhappiness of marriage is as unattainable to me to-day as the happiness
+or unhappiness of old age."
+
+"I will not ask you to promise, my daughter, but I will ask you to
+promise this; before you say to any man, 'Yes,' will you come to me and
+talk it all out to me? As if I were really your mother!"
+
+Tessa promised with misty eyes.
+
+"I promised to show you an old jewel-case this afternoon," said Mrs.
+Towne in a lighter tone. "I wish that I might tell you the history of
+each piece." She brought the box from a small table and pushed her chair
+nearer Tessa that she might open it in her lap. "This emerald is for
+you," she said, slipping a ring containing an emerald in old-fashioned
+setting upon the first finger of Tessa's left hand; "and it means what
+you have promised. All that your mother will permit me, I give to you
+this hour."
+
+"You are very kind to me."
+
+"I am very kind to myself. All my life I have wanted a daughter like
+you: a girl with blue eyes and a pure heart; one who would not care to
+flirt and dress, but who would love me and talk to me as you talk to me.
+I am proud of my boy, but I want a daughter."
+
+"I am not very good; you may be disappointed in me."
+
+"I do not fear that. This, my mother gave me," lifting pin and ear-rings
+from the box. A diamond set in silver formed the centre of the pin; the
+diamond was surrounded by pearls of different sizes. "I was very proud
+of this pin. I did not know then that I could not have every thing in
+the world and out of it. This pin my father gave me."
+
+Tessa laid it in her hand and counted the diamonds; it was a diamond
+with nine opals radiating from it, between each opal a small diamond.
+"It looks like a dahlia," she said. "I love pretty things. This ring is
+the first ring that I ever had."
+
+"People say that the emerald means success in love," replied Mrs. Towne.
+"I did not remember it when I chose that for you. Perhaps you would
+prefer a diamond."
+
+"I like best what you chose," said Tessa, taking from among the jewels,
+bracelet, pin, ear-rings and chatelaine of turquoises and pearls, and
+examining each piece with interested eyes. "These are old, too."
+
+"Every thing in this box is old. Some day you shall see my later jewels.
+You will like this," she added, placing in her hands a bracelet formed
+of a network of iron wire, clasped with a medallion of Berlin iron on a
+steel plate; the necklace that matched it was also of medallions; the
+one in the centre held a bust of Psyche; upon the others were busts of
+men and women whom Tessa did not recognize; to this set belonged comb,
+pin, and ear-rings.
+
+"These belonged to my mother. How old they are I do not know. See this
+ring, a portrait of Washington, painted on copper, and covered with
+glass. It is said to be one of the finest portraits in the country. I
+used to wear it a great deal. My father gave it to me on my fifteenth
+birthday. Have I told you that Lafayette kissed me when I was an infant
+in my mother's arms?"
+
+While Tessa replaced the treasures with fingers that lingered over them,
+with the new weight of the emerald upon her finger, and the new weight
+of a promise upon her heart, Mrs. Towne related the story of the kiss
+from Lafayette.
+
+Tessa was a perfect listener, Mrs. Towne thought; the lighting or
+darkening of her eyes, a flush rising to her cheeks now and then, the
+curving of the mobile lips, an exclamation of surprise or appreciation,
+were most grateful to the old heart that had found after long and
+intense waiting the daughter that she could love and honor.
+
+In the late twilight Dr. Towne returned; Tessa was still listening, with
+the jewel-case in her lap.
+
+"I have missed my husband with all the old loneliness since we came into
+Dunellen," she was saying when her tall son entered and stood at her
+side.
+
+"Mother," he said, in the shy way that Tessa knew, "you forget that you
+have me."
+
+"No, son, I do not forget; but your life is full of new interests.
+Yesterday I did not have ten minutes alone with you."
+
+"It shall not happen again."
+
+"I have persuaded Tessa to stay and hear Philip to-night; she says that
+he is like a west wind to her."
+
+"He would not fall upon the hindmost in your army, Miss Tessa."
+
+"I am sure that he would not."
+
+"Not if they coaxed him to?"
+
+"He should have manliness enough to resist all their pretty arts, and
+enticing ways."
+
+"Mother, can't you convince her? She has been rating me soundly for
+flirting, when it is the girls that are flirting with me."
+
+"It takes two to flirt," replied his mother.
+
+Dr. Towne was sent for as they were rising from the dinner table; Mrs.
+Towne and Tessa crossed the Park alone; at the entrance of the Lecture
+Room Sue Greyson met them.
+
+"I _had_ to come," Sue whispered, seizing Tessa's arm. "Father is so
+horrid and hateful, and said awful things to me just because I asked
+_him_ to write to Stacey. The letter is written anyhow, and I'm thankful
+it's over. Father says that he won't give me the house, and that I
+sha'n't be married under his roof. He is mad with Gerald, too, and told
+him to leave his house. So Gerald left and went to see a patient. He is
+so happy that he don't care what father says."
+
+As they passed down the aisle, Tessa's dress brushed against Felix
+Harrison; he was sitting alone with his father.
+
+"Why! Felix Harrison! Did you ever?" whispered irrepressible Sue.
+
+The Lecture Room was well-lighted, and well-filled. Professor Towne was
+the fashion in Dunellen. During the opening prayer there was a stir in
+one of the pews behind Tessa; she did not lift her head, her heart beat
+so rapidly that she felt as if she were suffocating.
+
+"Poor fellow," came in Sue's loud whisper close to her ear. "They have
+taken him out! I should think that he would know better than to go among
+folks."
+
+Tessa could not follow the speaker for some minutes; the lights went
+out, she could not catch her breath; Mrs. Towne took her hand and held
+it firmly, then the lights came dim, through a misty and waving
+distance, her breath was drawn more easily, she could discern the
+outline of the preacher, and then his dark face was brought fully into
+view, his voice sounded loud in her ears; for some time longer she could
+not catch and connect his words; then, clear and strong, the words fell
+from his lips, and she could listen and understand--
+
+"Good is the will of the Lord concerning me."
+
+If Felix could have listened and understood, would he have been
+comforted, too?
+
+His voice held her when her attention wavered; afterward, that one
+sentence was all that had fastened itself; and was not that enough for
+one life time?
+
+At the door, Dr. Towne stood waiting for his mother, and Mr. Hammerton
+and Dinah were moving towards the group.
+
+"I knew that you would be here," said Dinah, "so I coaxed Gus away from
+father. I couldn't wait to tell you that your books have come. Two
+splendid dozens in all colors; I had to open them. You don't mind? Gus
+and I each read a brown one; we think the crimson and blue ones must be
+splendid."
+
+Sue drew Tessa aside to coax in her plaintively miserable voice, "Come
+home with me; father will say things, and I shall be afraid."
+
+"I can't help you, Sue."
+
+"You mean you _won't_. I'll elope with Dr. Lake, and then Dunellen will
+be on fire, and you don't care."
+
+"I'm not afraid. He has good sense, if you haven't."
+
+"I'll come and see you to-morrow, then."
+
+"Well, that will do."
+
+"Nobody ever had so much trouble before," sighed Sue as she went off.
+
+Mr. Hammerton was in high glee and teased Tessa all the way home about
+her book.
+
+"The milk pails were on the fence twice, Lady Blue, that is tautology."
+
+"Oh, they kept them there."
+
+"And the grandmother was always knitting."
+
+"She always did knit."
+
+"Lady Blue, you are on the road to Poverty; he who walks the streets of
+Literature will stop at the house of Starvation. Homer was a beggar;
+Terence was a slave; Tasso was a poor man; Bacon was as poor as a church
+mouse; Cervantes died of nothing to eat. Are you not beginning to feel
+the pangs of hunger? Breath and memory fail me, or I would convince you.
+Collins died of neglect; Milton was an impecunious genius; every body
+knows how wretchedly poor Goldsmith was; and wasn't poor old prodigious
+Sam Johnson hungry half his life? Chatterton destroyed himself. I
+tremble for you, child of Genius! Author of 'Under the Wings,' what hast
+thou to say in defence of thy mad career?"
+
+"Don't mind him, Tessa," consoled Dinah, "he does like your book; he
+said that he had no idea that you could do so well; that there was great
+promise in it, that it revealed a thoughtful mind--he said it to
+father--that the delineation of character was fine, and that it had the
+real thing in it. What is the real thing?"
+
+"Read it and you will know."
+
+"If it isn't asking too much," began Tessa, timidly, "I wish that _you_
+would write me a criticism, Gus. I like the way that you talk about
+books. Not many know how to read a book, and still fewer know how to
+talk about it. Will you, please?"
+
+"You overrate my judgment; sentiment is not in my line; I have done my
+share in reading books; I do not know that I have got much out of them
+all. My own literary efforts would be like this:
+
+ "'Here lies--and more's the pity!
+ All that remains of Thomas New-city.'
+
+"His name was Newtown."
+
+Dinah gave her little shout.
+
+"Then you will not promise," said Tessa, disappointedly. "I'm not afraid
+of sharp criticism; I want to do my poor little best; I do not expect to
+do as much as the girls in books who write stories. I do not expect any
+publisher to fall in love with me as he did in _St. Elmo_, wasn't it?"
+
+"What _do_ you expect to do?"
+
+"I hope--perhaps that is the better word--to give others all the good that
+is given me; I believe that if one has the 'gift of utterance' even in
+so small a fashion as I have it, that experiences will be given to
+utter; the Divine Biographer writes the life for the human heart to
+read, interpret and put into words! And to them is given a peculiar
+life, or, it may be, a peculiar appreciation of life; heartaches go hand
+in hand with headaches.
+
+"I was born into my home that I may write my books; my poor little
+books, my little, weak, crooked-backed children! Would Fredrika Bremer
+have written her books without her exceptional home-training, or Sara
+Coleridge, or any other of the lesser lights shine as they do shine, if
+the spark had not been blown upon by the breath of their home-fires?
+When I am sorry sometimes that I can not do what I would and go where I
+would, I think that I have not gathered together all the fragments that
+are around loose between the plank walk and the soldiers' monument! Said
+mother, '_How_ do you make a book? Do you take a little from this book
+and a little from that?'"
+
+"What did you say?" asked Dine.
+
+"Oh, I said that I took a tone from her voice, an expression from
+father's eyes, a curl from your head, a word from Gus's lips, a laugh
+from Sue Greyson, a sigh from Dr. Lake, an apple blossom from Mr. Bird's
+orchard, a spray of golden rod from the wayside, a chat from loungers in
+the Park, a wise saying from Miss Jewett--"
+
+"That's rather a conglomeration," said Dinah.
+
+"That is life, as I see it and live it."
+
+"What do you take from yourself?" asked Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"I have all my life from the time that I cried over my first lie and
+prayed that I might have curly hair, to the present moment, when I am
+glad and sorry about a thousand things."
+
+"What did mother say?"
+
+"She said that any one could write a book, then."
+
+"Let her try, then! It's awful hard about the grammar and spelling and
+the beginning a chapter and ending it and introducing people!"
+
+"Yes, it's awful hard or awful easy," replied Mr. Hammerton. "Which is
+it, Lady Blue?"
+
+"Ask me when I have written my novel! Did you hear from the afternoon
+mail, Dine?"
+
+"Yes," said Dine, grimly, "I should think I _did_ hear. Mother and I
+have had a fight! Father took care of the wounded and we are all
+convalescing. Aunt Theresa has written for one of us to come next week;
+kindly says that she will take me if mother can not spare you; I said
+right up and down that _I_ wouldn't go, and mother said right down and
+up that I _should_ go, that she couldn't and wouldn't spare you! Aunt
+Theresa has the rheumatism, and it's horrid dull on a farm! I was there
+when I was a little girl, and she sent me to bed before dark; I'm afraid
+that she will do it again; if she does I'll frighten her out of her
+rheumatics. Mother will not let you have a voice in the matter, Tessa;
+who knows but you might meet your fate? The school-teacher boards with
+them; he is just out of college. Mother sha'n't make me go!"
+
+"I do not choose to go; but I could have all my time to myself. A low,
+cosy chamber and a fire on the hearth, no one to intrude or hinder."
+
+"But the school-master!" added Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"He's only a boy; I could put him into my book."
+
+"We'll draw lots; shall we?"
+
+"If mother is determined, the lot is drawn."
+
+"And father wants you, I know; he had an attack of pain before tea. I
+wish that I was useful and couldn't be spared."
+
+"May I not have a vote; I am a naturalized member of the family?"
+
+"You would want Tessa, too," said Dinah.
+
+"Would I?" he returned, squeezing the gloved fingers on his arm,
+whereupon Dinah became confused and silent.
+
+Tessa found her books upon the hall table; her father, Mr. Hammerton,
+and Dinah followed her into the hall to watch her face and laugh over
+her exclamations.
+
+"Your secret is out," cried her father; "at Christmas there will be a
+placard in Runyon's with the name of the book and author in flaming red
+letters! You can not remain the Great Unknown."
+
+"I feel so ashamed of trying," said Tessa, with a brown cover, a red
+cover, and a green cover in her hands, "but I had to. I'll be too humble
+to be ashamed. 'Humility's so good when pride's impossible.'"
+
+Several copies were taken up-stairs; Miss Jewett's name was written in
+one, Mrs. Towne's in another, Mr. Hammerton's in one that he had
+selected, and in one, bound in a sober gray, she wrote,
+
+ "Felix Harrison. In memory of the old school days when he helped me
+ with my compositions.
+
+ "T. L. W."
+
+She never knew of his sudden, sharp cry over it: "Oh, my life! my lost
+life! my wasted life!"
+
+
+
+
+XVI.--A TANGLE.
+
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth's strong will triumphed, as it usually did, and Dinah was
+sent into the country early in the last week of September, with a
+promise from Tessa that she would release her from her durance as soon
+as one of her books was finished and herself spend the remainder of the
+winter with the childless old people who had been looking forward to
+this pleasure from winter to winter ever since Tessa was ten years old.
+Half Dunellen had pacified Dinah with the promise of long weekly
+letters, and she knew that Tessa and her father would write often. "I am
+not strong enough to write letters," her mother had said. "Tessa will
+tell you every thing." "I will add a postscript whenever Tessa will
+permit," said Mr. Hammerton, which queerly enough consoled homesick
+Dinah more than all the other promises combined.
+
+Sue had not come to talk to Tessa and she dared not go to Dr. Greyson's
+for fear of influencing her. She had met Dr. Lake once; he had lifted
+his hat with a flourish, but would not stop to speak to her.
+
+And now it was Wednesday and Sue's wedding day had been set for Friday.
+
+At noon, among other letters, her father brought her a note from Felix
+Harrison:
+
+"I must see you; I want to talk to you. Come Wednesday afternoon."
+
+How she shrank from this interview she did not understand until she
+could think it over years afterward. In those after years when she said,
+"I do not want to live my life over again," she remembered her
+experiences with Felix Harrison; more than all, the feeling of those
+weeks when she had felt _bound_. It was also in her mind when she said,
+as she often did say, in later life, "I could never influence any one to
+marry." How often an expression in the mature years of a woman's life
+would reveal a long story, if one could but read it.
+
+Another word of hers in her middle age, "I love to help little girls to
+be happy," was the expression to years of longing that no one had ever
+guessed; her mother least of all.
+
+But she had not come to this settled time yet; it was weary years before
+she was at leisure from herself. It was Wednesday noon now and Felix had
+sent for her; she shrank from him with a shrinking amounting to terror;
+he would touch her hand, most certainly, and he might put his arm around
+her and kiss her; she would faint and fall at his feet if he did; he
+might say that she had promised him, that she was bound to him, that he
+would never let her go; that he was gaining strength and that she must
+become his wife or he would die!
+
+Why could he not write his message? What could he have to say to her?
+Was it not all said and laid away to be remembered, perhaps, and that
+was all? Then the memory of the old Felix swept over her, and she bowed
+her head and wept for him! She had held herself in her heart as his
+promised wife for six long weeks, how could she shrink from him? Was he
+not to her what no other man would ever become? Was she not to him the
+one best and dearest?
+
+"I wonder," she sobbed, "why _he_ had to be the one to love me; why was
+not the love given to one whom I could love? Why must such a good and
+perfect gift as love be a burden to him and to me? If some one I know--"
+
+The cheeks that were wet for Felix Harrison burned at the thought of one
+she knew!
+
+"Oh, I wonder--but I must not wonder--I must be submissive; I must bow
+before the Awful Will."
+
+In that hour it was harder to bear for Felix Harrison to love her than
+for Ralph Towne to be indifferent.
+
+"What are you going to do this afternoon?" inquired her mother at the
+dinner table.
+
+"Take my walk! And then the thing that comes first"
+
+"You never have any plan about any thing; any one with so little to do
+ought to have a plan."
+
+"My plan is this--_do the next thing_! I find that it keeps me busy."
+
+"The next thing, hard or easy," said Mr. Wadsworth.
+
+"Hard! Easy!" repeated Mrs. Wadsworth in her ironical voice. "Tessa
+never had a hard thing to do in her life. It will be my comfort in my
+last hours, Tessa, that you have been kept from troubles and
+disappointments."
+
+"You might as well take the comfort of it now," said Tessa.
+
+"Not many young women of your age have your easy life," her mother
+continued; "you have no thought where your next meal will come from, or
+where you will live in your old age, or where--"
+
+"I know where all my good things come from," interrupted Tessa,
+reverently; "the how, the when, and the what that I do not know--that I
+am waiting to know."
+
+"That is like you! Not a thought, not a care; it will come dreadful hard
+to you if you ever _do_ have trouble."
+
+Tessa's tears ever left in her heart a place for sweet laughter; so
+light, so soft, so submissive, and withal so happy was the low laugh of
+her reply that her father's eyes filled at the sound. Somebody
+understood her.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth looked annoyed. Her elder daughter's words baffled her.
+Tessa _was_ shallow and she sighed and asked her if she would take apple
+pie.
+
+Tessa ate her pie understanding how she was a trial to her mother, but
+not understanding how she could hinder it. Could she change herself? or
+could her mother change herself?
+
+"I wish that it were easier for me to love people," she said coming out
+of a reverie, "then I would not need to trouble myself about not
+understanding them."
+
+"I thought that you were a student of human nature," said her father.
+
+"I always knew that she couldn't see through people," exclaimed her
+mother.
+
+"I do not; I never know when I am deceived."
+
+"My rule is," Mr. Wadsworth arose and stood behind his chair, "to judge
+people by themselves and not by _myself_."
+
+"Oh, the heartaches that would save," thought Tessa. At the hour when
+she was walking slowly towards Felix, her black dress brushing the
+grass, her eyes upon the harvested fields lying warm in the mellow
+sunlight, and on her lips the sorrowful wonder, he was sitting alone in
+the summer-house, his head dropped within his hands. He was wondering,
+too, as all his being leaped forward at the thought of her coming, and
+battling with the strong love that was too strong for his feeble
+strength.
+
+When her hand unlatched the gate, he was not in the summer-house; she
+walked up the long path, and around to the latticed porch where Laura
+liked to sew or read in the afternoons; there was no one there; the
+work-basket had been pushed over, cotton and thimble had rolled to the
+edge of the floor, the white work had been thrown over a chair, she
+stood a moment in the oppressive silence, trembling and half leaning
+against a post; the tall clock in the hall ticked loudly and evenly:
+forever--never, never--forever! Her heart quickened, every thing grew dark
+like that night in the lecture-room, she was possessed with a terror
+that swept away breath and motion. A groan, then another and another,
+interrupted the never--forever, of the clock, then a step on the
+oil-cloth of the hall, and she dimly discerned Laura's frightened face,
+and heard as if afar off her surprised voice: "Why, Tessa! O, Tessa, I
+am so glad!"
+
+The frightened face was held up to be kissed and arms were clinging
+around her.
+
+"I'm always just as frightened every time--he was in the summer-house and
+father found him--he can speak now--it doesn't last very long."
+
+"I will not stay, he needs you."
+
+"Not now, no one can help him; father is with him. If this keeps on Dr.
+Greyson says that some day he will have to be undressed and dressed just
+like an infant. He has been nervous all day, as if he were watching for
+something. O, Tessa, I want to die, I want him to die, I can't bear it
+any longer."
+
+Tessa's only reply was her fast dropping tears.
+
+"If he only had a mother," said Laura; "I want him to have a mother now
+that he can never have a wife! If he only had been married, his wife
+would have clung to him, and loved him, and taken care of him. Don't you
+think that God might have waited to bring this upon him until he was
+married?"
+
+"Oh, no, no, _no!_" shivered Tessa; "we do not know the best times for
+trouble to come. I shall always believe that after this."
+
+"He always liked you better than any one; do you know that he has a
+picture of you taken when we went to the Institute? You have on a hat
+and sacque, and your school books are in your hand."
+
+"I remember that picture! Has he kept it all this time?"
+
+"If he asks for you--he will hear your voice--will you go in?"
+
+"No, I can not see him," she answered nervously.
+
+"Then I will walk down to the gate with you. He will be sure to ask, and
+I do not like to refuse him."
+
+Walking slowly arm in arm as they used to walk from school years ago,
+they passed down the path, at first, speaking only of Felix, and then as
+they neared the gate, falling into light talk about Laura's work, the
+new servant who was so kind to Felix, the plants that Laura had taken
+into the sitting-room, "to make it cosy for Felix this winter," the
+shirts that she had cut out for him and their father, and intended to
+make on the machine; about the sewing society that was to meet
+to-morrow, a book that Felix was reading aloud evenings while their
+father dozed and she sewed, some Mayfield gossip about Dr. Towne, and
+their plan of taking Felix travelling next summer. Tessa listened and
+replied. She never had any thing to say about herself. Laura thought
+with Mrs. Wadsworth that Tessa had never had any "experiences." Miss
+Jewett and Tessa's father knew; but it was not because she had told
+them. What other people chattered about to each other she kept for her
+prayers.
+
+Laura cried a little when Tessa kissed her at the gate. "I wish that you
+wouldn't go; I want you to stay and help me. Will you come again soon?"
+
+"I can't," she answered hurriedly.
+
+"Did Felix know that you were coming to-day?"
+
+Tessa's eyes made answer enough; too much, for Laura understood.
+
+"I will not tell him that I know--but I had guessed it--I heard him
+praying once while we were away, and I knew that he was giving up
+_you_."
+
+Tessa kissed her again, and without a word hurried away, walking with
+slower steps as she went on with her full eyes bent upon the ground.
+
+Was it so much to give up Tessa Wadsworth? What _was_ she that she could
+make such a difference in a man's life? Was she lovable, after all,
+despite her quick words and sharp speeches? She was not pretty like
+Dinah, or "taking" like Sue; it was very pleasant to be loved for her
+own sake; "my own unattractive self," she said. It would be very
+pleasant in that far-off time, when she reviewed her life, to remember
+that some one had loved her beside her father and Dine and Miss Jewett!
+And a good man, too; a man with brains, and a pure heart!
+
+Her ideal was a man with brains, and a pure heart; then why had she not
+loved Felix Harrison?
+
+"Oh, I don't know," she sighed. "I can't understand." Slowly, slowly,
+with her full eyes on the ground she went on, not heeding the sound of
+wheels, or gay voices, as a carriage passed her now and then; but as she
+went on, with her eyes still full for Felix, a light sound of wheels set
+her heart to beating, and she lifted her eyes to bow to Dr. Towne.
+
+In that instant her heart bowed before the Awful Will in acceptance of
+the love that had been given to her, even as other things in her lot had
+been given her, without any seeking or asking.
+
+"I can bear it," she felt, filling the words with Paul's thought, when
+he wrote, "I can do all things."
+
+Dr. Towne drew the reins: she stood still on the edge of the foot-path.
+
+"My mother misses you, Miss Tessa."
+
+"Does she? I am sorry, but I have to be so busy at home."
+
+His sympathetic eyes were on her face. "I thought, that you were never
+troubled about any thing," he said.
+
+"I am not--when I can help it."
+
+"I left Sue Greyson up the road looking for you; I could not bring her
+to meet you, as my carriage holds but one; there was news in her face."
+
+"Then I will go to hear."
+
+The light sound of his wheels had died away before she espied Sue's tall
+figure coming quickly towards her.
+
+"Oh, Tessa! How _could_ you go so far? Your mother said that you were
+here on this road, and that I should find you either up a tree or in the
+brook; I've got splendid news! guess! Did you meet Dr. Towne? He stopped
+and talked to me, but I wouldn't tell him. He and his mother will know
+in time. Now, guess."
+
+"Let me sit down and think. It will take time."
+
+They had met near the brook at the corner of the road that turned past
+Old Place; on the corner stood a tall, bare walnut-tree, the gnarled
+roots covered a part of the knoll under which a slim thread of water
+trickled over moss and jagged flat stones, and then found its clear way
+into a broader channel and thence into the brook that crossed one of the
+Old Place meadows.
+
+These roots had been Tessa's resting-place all summer; how many times
+she had looked up to read the advertisement of the clothier in Dunellen
+painted in black letters on a square board nailed to the trunk; how many
+times had she leaned back and looked down into the thread of water at
+the moss, and the pebbles, the tiny ferns and the tall weeds, turning to
+look down the road towards May field where the school-house stood, and
+then across the fields--the wheat fields, the corn fields--to the peach
+orchard beyond them, and beyond that the green slope of the fertile
+hill-side with its few dwellings, and above the slope the crooked green
+edge that met the sky--sometimes a blue sky, sometimes a sky of clouds,
+and sometimes gray with the damp clouds hanging low; thinking, as her
+eyes roved off her book, of some prank of Rob's or some quaint saying of
+Sadie's, of some little comforting thought that swelled in grandma's
+patient, gentle heart, or of something sharp that Sadie's snappish
+mother should say; sometimes she would take the sky home for her book
+and sometimes the weeds and the pebbles and the brook; and when it was
+not her book it was Felix--poor Felix!--or Dr. Lake, whom she loved more
+and more every day with the love that she would have loved a naughty,
+feeble, winsome child; or Mr. Towne, of his face that was ever with her
+like the memory of a picture that she had lingered before and could
+never forget, or of his voice and some words that he had spoken; or of
+her father and his failing strength and brave efforts to conceal it;
+sometimes a kind little thing that her mother had done for her, some
+self-denial or shame-faced demonstration of her love for her elder
+daughter, sometimes of Dine's changeful moods, and often of the book of
+George Eliot's that she was reading, or the latest of Charles Kingsley's
+that she was discussing with Mr. Hammerton; thinking, musing, feeling,
+planning while she picked up a pebble or tore a weed into bits, or wrote
+a sentence in her pocket notebook! It was no wonder that this gnarled
+seat was so much to her that she lost herself and lost the words that
+Sue was speaking so rapidly.
+
+"You are not listening to me at all," cried Sue at last "I might as well
+talk to the tree as to talk to you!"
+
+"I am listening; what is it?"
+
+"It's all settled--splendidly settled--and I'm as happy as Cinderella when
+she found the Prince! Now guess!"
+
+"Well, then," stooping to pick a weed that had gone to seed, "I guess
+that you have come to your right mind, that you will marry Stacey on
+Friday and all will go as merry as a marriage bell should."
+
+"What a thing to guess! That's too horrid! Guess again."
+
+"You have grown good and 'steady,' you will keep house for your father
+and be what he is always calling you,--the comfort of his old age,--and
+forego lovers and such perplexities forever."
+
+"That's horrider still! Do guess something sensible."
+
+"You are going to marry Dr. Lake. Your father has stormed and stormed,
+but now he has become mild and peaceable; you are to be married Friday
+morning and start off immediately in the sober certainty of waking
+bliss."
+
+"Yes," said Sue very seriously, "that is it. Every thing is as grand as
+a story-book, except that father will not give me the house for a
+wedding present. Oh, those wretched days since I saw you last! I did
+think that I would take laudanum or kill myself with a penknife. You
+don't know what I have been through. Old Blue Beard is pious to what
+father has been; Gerald, _he_ kept out of the house. I should have run
+away before this, only I knew that father would come around and beg my
+pardon. He always does."
+
+Tessa stooped to dip her fingers in the water.
+
+"And _this_ is your idea of marriage," she said quietly.
+
+"No, it isn't. I never looked forward to any thing like this; I always
+wanted something better. I am not doing very well, although I suppose
+there _are_ girls in Dunellen who would think Gerald a catch."
+
+"Oh, Sue, Sue! when he loves you so! If he could hear you, it would
+break his heart!"
+
+"Take him yourself then, if you think he's so much," laughed Sue. "Nan
+Gerard will get the catch!"
+
+"Sue, I am ashamed of you!" exclaimed Tessa rising. "I am glad if you
+are happy--as happy as you know how to be. I want you to be happy--and
+_do_ be good to Dr. Lake."
+
+How Sue laughed!
+
+"Oh, you dear old Goody Goody," she cried, springing to her feet and
+throwing her arms around Tessa. "What else should I be to my own wedded
+husband? But it does seem queer so near to Old Place to be talking about
+marrying Dr. Lake."
+
+"We'll remember this place always, Sue, and that you promised to be kind
+to Dr. Lake."
+
+"Yes, I'll remember," with a shadow passing over her face. "The next
+time you and I sit here it will be all over with me. I shall be out of
+lovers for the rest of my natural life." She laughed and chatted all the
+way home; her listener was silent and sore at heart.
+
+"You will come to-morrow night and see the last of me, won't you? This
+is what I came to ask you, 'the last sad office' isn't that it? Sue
+Greyson will never ask you another favor."
+
+"Yes, I will come." She had always loved Sue Greyson. She did not often
+kiss her, but she kissed her now.
+
+"Don't look so. Laugh, can't you? If it is something terrible, it isn't
+happening to you."
+
+"The things that happen to me are the easiest to bear."
+
+Sue crossed over to the planks and went on pondering this, then gave it
+up to wonder how she would wear her hair on her wedding morning; Tessa
+would make it look pretty any way, for she was born a hair-dresser.
+
+And Tessa went in and up-stairs, thinking of a remark of Miss Jewett's:
+"I should not understand my life at all, it would be all in a tangle, if
+it were not for my prayers."
+
+
+
+
+XVII.--THE NIGHT BEFORE.
+
+
+Two of the pretty crimson and brown chairs were drawn to the back parlor
+grate; Sue had kindled a fire in the back parlor because she felt
+"shivery," beside, it had rained all day; the wedding morning promised
+to be chilly and rainy.
+
+Early after tea Dr. Greyson had been called away; Dr. Lake had not
+returned from a long drive, the latest Irish girl was singing lustily in
+the kitchen; Sue and Tessa were alone together before the fire. The
+white shades were down, the doors between the rooms closed, they were
+altogether cozy and comfortable. Almost as comfortable, Tessa was
+thinking, as if there were no dreaded to-morrow; but then she was the
+only person in the world who could see any thing to be dreaded in the
+to-morrow. Tessa's fingers were moving in and out among the white wool
+that she was crocheting into a long comforter for her father; Sue sat
+idly restless looking into Tessa's face or into the fire.
+
+Now and then Tessa spoke, now and then Sue ejaculated or laughed or
+sighed.
+
+"Life is too queer for any thing," she said reflectively. "Don't you
+know the minister said that Sunday that we helped to make our own lives?
+I have often thought of that."
+
+Tessa's wool was tangled, she unknotted it without replying.
+
+The rain plashed against the windows, a coal fell through the grate and
+dropped upon the fender.
+
+"I wonder how Stacey feels," said Sue. "Perhaps he is taking out another
+girl to-night. That ring was large, it will not fit a small hand;
+perhaps he sold it, you can always get three quarters the worth of a
+diamond, I have heard people say."
+
+Tessa's lips were not encouraging, but Sue was not looking at her.
+
+"Gerald has the wedding ring in his pocket; I tried it on this noon. I
+wanted to wear it to get used to it, but he wouldn't let me. He is
+sentimental like you. I expect that he is really enjoying carrying it
+around in his pocket. S. G. L. is written in it."
+
+The rain plashed and Tessa worked; suddenly the door-bell gave a sharp
+clang, a moment later little Miss Jewett, in a waterproof, was ushered
+in.
+
+"I had to come, girls. I hope I don't intrude."
+
+"Intrude!" Both of Sue's affectionate arms were around the wet figure.
+"Tessa is thinking of glum things to say to me, do sit down and say
+something funny."
+
+The long waterproof was unbuttoned and hung upon the hat-stand in the
+hall, the rubbers were placed upon the hearth to dry, and the plump
+little woman pressed into Tessa's arm-chair. Moving an ottoman to her
+side, Tessa sat with her arm upon the arm of her chair.
+
+"I'm _so_ glad to see you," Sue cried, dropping into her own chair.
+"What a long walk you have had in the rain just to give me some good
+advice. Don't you wish that Tessa was going off, too?"
+
+"Tessa will not go off till she is good and ready," replied Miss Jewett,
+"and then she will go off to some purpose."
+
+"Make a good match, do you mean?"
+
+"If she can find her match," caressing the hand on the arm of the chair.
+
+"Oh, Miss Jewett, tell us a story! A real love story! Humor me just this
+once, this last time! I don't like advice and I do like love stories."
+
+"Do you, too, Tessa?"
+
+"Yes, I shall write one some day! They shall both be perfect and love
+each other perfectly. It shall not be an earthly story, but a heavenly
+one."
+
+"That would be too tame," said Sue. "I should want it to be a little
+wicked."
+
+"That would be more like life--"
+
+"And then get good in the end! That is like life, too," interrupted Sue.
+"Now, go on, please."
+
+"Very well. To-night is an event, I suppose I may as well celebrate it.
+I will tell you about a present I had once, the most perfect gift I ever
+received."
+
+"But I wanted a love story."
+
+"And you think that _my_ story can not be that? Sometimes I think that
+unmarried people live the most perfect love stories."
+
+Lifting the mass of white wool from Tessa's lap and taking the needle,
+she worked half a minute before she spoke; Sue's curious, bright eyes
+were on her face, Tessa's were on the wool she was playing with.
+
+"Twenty-five years ago, when I was younger than I am now, and as intense
+and as full of aspirations as Tessa here, and as full of fun, as _you_,
+Sue Greyson, I boarded one winter with a widow. She was quite
+middle-aged and lived alone with her chickens and cat, very comfortably
+off, but she wanted a boarder or two for company. My store was a little
+affair then, but I was a busy body; I used to study and sew evenings.
+Ah, those evenings! I often think them over now as I sit alone. I shall
+never forget that winter. I _grew_. The widow and I were not alone;
+before I had been there a week a young man came, he was scarcely older
+than I--"
+
+Sue laughed and looked at Tessa.
+
+"He was to sail away in the spring to some dreadful place,--that sounds
+like you, Sue,--to be a missionary!"
+
+"A _missionary!_" exclaimed Sue.
+
+"Every evening he read aloud to us, usually poetry or the Bible. Poetry
+meant something to me then--that sounds like you, Tessa. One evening he
+read Esther, one evening Ruth, and when he read Nehemiah, oh, how
+enthusiastic we were! He talked and talked and talked, and I listened
+and listened and listened till all my heart went out to meet him."
+
+"Ah," cried Sue, "to think of you being in love, Miss Jewett. I didn't
+know that you were ever so naughty!"
+
+"At last the time came that he must go--the very last evening. I thought
+that those evenings could never end, but they did. I could hardly see my
+stitches for tears; I was making over a black bombazine for the widow,
+and the next evening I had to rip my work out! He read awhile,--he was
+reading _Rasselas_ that night,--and then he dropped the book and talked
+of his work and the life he expected to lead.
+
+"'You ought to take a wife,' said the widow.
+
+"'No woman will ever love me well enough to go to such a place with me,'
+he said.
+
+"Just then I dropped the scissors and had to bend down to pick them up.
+The widow went out into the kitchen to set the sponge for her bread and
+clear out the stove for morning, and we stayed alone and talked. We
+talked about whether he would be homesick and seasick, and how glad he
+would be of letters from home; not that he had many friends to write to
+him, though; and I sewed on and on, and threaded my needle, and dropped
+my scissors, and almost cried because all I cared for in the wide world
+would sail away with him, and he would never know!
+
+"'The best of friends must part,' he said when she brought in his candle
+and lighted it for him.
+
+"In the morning, we all arose early and took our last breakfast together
+by lamplight. She shook hands with him twice, and wished him all sorts
+of good wishes, and then he held out his hand to me and said, 'Good-by.'
+I said, 'Good-by.' And then he said, 'You have given me a very pleasant
+winter; I shall often think of it.' And I said, 'Thank you,' and ran
+away up-stairs to cry by myself. That was five and twenty years
+ago--before you were born, Sue, and before Tessa could creep; there were
+wet eyes in the world, before you were born, girls, and there will be
+wet eyes long after we are all dead; and always for the same
+reason--because somebody loves somebody.
+
+"He is a hard worker--I rejoice in his life. Five years ago he came home,
+but not to Dunellen; he had no friends here; after resting awhile he
+returned to his field of labor, and died before he reached it, but was
+buried in the place he loved better than home.
+
+"I thought of him and loved him and prayed for him through those twenty
+years. I think of him and love him and give thanks for him now, and
+shall till I die and afterwards!"
+
+"Why didn't you go with him?" asked Sue.
+
+"He did not ask me."
+
+"Would you if he had?"
+
+"I certainly should."
+
+"Couldn't you bring him to the point? It would have been easy enough."
+
+"The gentleman did the asking in those days," Sue laughed. "And wasn't
+he ever married?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What a pity! I thought that every thing always went right for people
+like you and Tessa. But I don't see where the perfect gift comes in, do
+you, Tessa?"
+
+"Yes, but I'm afraid that I don't want such a perfect gift. I couldn't
+bear it--twenty years."
+
+"Tell me--I can't guess. Did he give you something?"
+
+"No, _he_ did not."
+
+"Didn't he love _you?_"
+
+"No, he did not love me."
+
+"Where is the gift then?"
+
+"My love for him was my perfect gift. It was given by One in whom there
+is no shadow of turning."
+
+"I am not strong enough to receive such a gift," said Tessa looking
+troubled.
+
+"Oh, dear me, I hope not. Oh, dear me, horrid! What a story to tell the
+night before my wedding! All I care about is about _being loved!_ I
+didn't know that the loving made any difference or did any good! That
+story is too sorrowful. Gerald would like that."
+
+The long ivory needle moved in and out; the fair face, half a century
+old, was full of loveliness.
+
+"That is for you to remember all your life, Sue."
+
+"I sha'n't. I shall forget it. I only remember pleasant things."
+
+"I wonder if Fredrika Bremer were as happy as you, Miss Jewett. She says
+that a gentleman inspired her with a 'pure and warm feeling,' that it
+was never responded to, and yet it had a powerful influence upon her
+development."
+
+"Was she _real?_" inquired Sue. "I thought that she only wrote books."
+
+"It takes very real people to write," answered Tessa. "The more real you
+are, the more you are called to write."
+
+Slipping off the low chair, down to the rug, Sue laid her head in Miss
+Jewett's lap, the white wool half concealing the braids and curls and
+frizzes, the thin, excited face was turned toward the fire, the brown
+eyes, wild and yet timid, were misty with tears.
+
+Miss Jewett and Tessa Wadsworth were the only people in the world who
+had ever seen this phase of Sue Greyson.
+
+Dr. Lake had never seen her subdued or frightened. At this instant she
+was both. There were some things that Sue could feel; there were not any
+that she could understand.
+
+"Sometimes," said Sue, in a hollow whisper, "I'm so afraid, I want to
+run away; I was afraid I might run away and so I asked Tessa to come
+to-night."
+
+"My dear!" Miss Jewett's warm lips touched her forehead.
+
+"Oh, it isn't any thing! I like Gerald; I adore him. I wouldn't marry
+him if I didn't! I am always afraid of a leap into the dark, and I am
+always jumping into dark places."
+
+"It is a leap for _him_, too, Sue; you seem to forget that," suggested
+Tessa.
+
+"You always think of him, you never think of me."
+
+"It is a pity for no one to think of him; if I were to be married
+to-morrow, I should cry all night, out of pity for the hapless
+bridegroom."
+
+"Tessa, you ridiculous child," exclaimed Miss Jewett.
+
+"In books," Sue went on, still with her face turned from them, "girls
+choose the one they are to marry out of all the world. Why don't we?"
+
+"We do," said Tessa.
+
+"We don't. We take somebody because he asks us and nobody else asks."
+
+"_I_ will not. I do not believe that God means it so. He chooses that we
+shall satisfy the best and hungriest part of ourselves, and the best
+part is the hungriest, and the hungriest the best; we may not have
+opportunity in one year, or two years, or ten years, but if we wait He
+will give us the things we most need! He did not give us any longing
+simply to make us go crying through the universe; the longing is His
+message making known to us that the good thing _is_. I will not be false
+to myself, cheating myself by shutting my eyes and saying, 'Ah, _this_
+is good! I have found my choice,' when my whole soul protests, knowing
+that it is a lie. I can wait."
+
+"Oh, Tessa!" laughed Sue. "Doesn't she talk like a book? I never half
+know what she means when she goes into such hysterics. Do you expect to
+get all your good things?"
+
+"All _my_ good things! Yes, every single one; it is only a question of
+time. God can not forget, nor can He die. I shall not be discouraged
+until I am sure that He is dead."
+
+"O, Tessa, you are wicked," cried Sue.
+
+"You remind me of something," said Miss Jewett. "'Blessed are all they
+that wait _for Him_.'"
+
+"I can't wait for my blessings," said Sue; "I want to snatch them."
+
+Gently pushing aside Sue's head, Tessa found her work and her needle;
+she worked silently while Sue laughed and grumbled and Miss Jewett
+talked, not over Sue's head as Tessa's habit was, but into her heart.
+
+"Sue, I shall lose you in Bible class."
+
+"I never answered any questions or studied any lesson, you will not care
+for my empty place. Gerald is getting awfully good; he reads the Bible
+and Prayer-book every night; every morning when I go in to fix up his
+room, I find them on a little table by his bed; I suppose he reads in
+bed nights. He used to be bad and talk dreadful things when he first
+came; did you ever hear him, Tessa?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"But he's awful good now; he thinks that people ought to go to church,
+and say their prayers; I hope he will keep it up; _I_ will not hinder
+him. I want to be good, too."
+
+Tessa's needle moved in and out; she did not hear Sue's voice, or see
+the kneeling, green figure; her eyes were looking upon the face she had
+looked down into that evening in January, such a little time since; and
+she was hearing her voice as she heard it in the night. Had she
+forgotten so soon? Or was it the remembrance that gave her the unrest
+to-night? Was she conscious without understanding? And had _her_ Ralph
+Towne done this? After having withdrawn himself from Sue, was he keeping
+her from seeing the good and the happiness of marriage with Dr. Lake?
+Would the thought of him come between her and the contentment that she
+might have had?
+
+But no, she was putting herself into Sue's position; that would not do;
+it was Sue's self and not her own self that she must analyze! If she
+could tell Ralph Towne her fears to-night, his eyes would grow dark and
+grave, and then he would toss the feeling away with his amused laugh and
+say, "Sue is not deep enough for that! She did not care for me. Why must
+you think a romance about her?"
+
+Was she not deep enough for that? Who could tell that?
+
+She listened to Sue's lively talk and tried to believe that his reply
+would be just; the one most bitter thought of all was, that if she were
+suffering it was through his selfishness or stupidity. Why must he be so
+stupid about such things? Had he no heart himself?
+
+Sue was laughing again. "Oh, dear! I must be happy; if I am not I shall
+be unhappy! It would kill me to be unhappy! I never think of unpleasant
+things five minutes."
+
+The sound of wheels near the windows, and a call to "Jerry" in a loud,
+quick voice, brought them all to a startling sense of the present.
+
+"There he is," cried Sue, springing lightly to her feet.
+
+Tessa was relieved that she said "he" instead of "Gerald" or "Dr. Lake."
+
+"If you will not stay all night, too, Miss Jewett, he shall take you
+home."
+
+"I can not, dear. I only came because I wanted to talk with Sue Greyson
+once more before I lost her."
+
+Rubbers and waterproof were hurried on, and Tessa was left alone with
+the fire, the rain, and her work.
+
+Suppose that it were herself who was to be married to-morrow--
+
+Would she wish to run away? Run away from whom? Although her Ralph Towne
+had died and been buried, that old, sharp, sweet, memory was wrapped
+around her still; it would always be sweet although so sharp--and
+bitterly, bitterly sharp although so sweet; if it might become wholly
+the one or wholly the other, but it could never be that; never unless
+she learned Love's lesson as Mrs. Towne had laid it before her. But that
+was so utterly and hopelessly beyond her present growth!
+
+Would he despise her if he could know how much that happy time was in
+her thoughts? Was she tenacious where stronger minds would forget? He
+would think her weak and romantic like the heroine of a story paper
+novel; that is, if he could think weak any thing so wholly innocent.
+
+She trusted the emerald ring on her finger; at times it burned into her
+flesh; sometimes she tore it off that she might forget her promise, and
+then--oh, foolish, incomprehensible, womanly Tessa!--she would take it
+again and slip it on with a reverence and love for the old memory that
+she could not be ashamed of although she tried.
+
+Had she been too hard upon Ralph Towne in their latest interview? Why
+need she have given shape to her hitherto unspoken thoughts concerning
+his life; she could not tell him of her prayers that he might change and
+yet become--for it was not too late--the good, good man that she had once
+believed him to be. He had taken away her faith in himself; he might
+give it back, grown stronger, if he would. If he only would!
+
+Dr. Greyson's step was in the hall; Sue's voice was less excited, her
+father was speaking quietly to her. Sue, poor Sue! She would never be
+again the free, wild Sue Greyson that she was to-night.
+
+Tessa felt Dr. Lake's mood; she could have written out his thoughts, as
+he drove homeward in the rain; she dreaded his hilarious entrance, how
+his eyes would shine, with tears close behind them!
+
+Her reverie was interrupted by the entrance that she dreaded. "Ah,
+Mystic, praying for my happiness here alone! I know you are. I come to
+be congratulated."
+
+"I congratulate you," she said rising and taking his hand. Not so very
+long afterward, when she saw his cold, dead hands folded together and
+touched them, she remembered with starting tears this soft, hot,
+clinging clasp.
+
+"You didn't dream of this two months ago, did you?" he cried, dropping
+into the chair that Sue had been sitting in. "You didn't know that I was
+born under a lucky star despite all my woeful past. I have turned over a
+new leaf; I turned it over to-night in the rain; it is chapter first.
+Such a white page, Mystic. Don't you want to write something on it for
+me?"
+
+"I wouldn't dare."
+
+"Oh, yes, you would! What do you wish for me? Write that."
+
+"I wish for you--" she rolled the white wool over her hand.
+
+"Well, go on! Something that must come true!"
+
+"--The love that suffers long and is _kind_."
+
+"Whew!" He drew a long breath. "There is no place for that in me."
+
+Sue entered noisily. She did every thing noisily.
+
+"Come here, Susan." Dr. Lake caught her in his arms, but she slipped
+through them, moving to Tessa's side, seating herself upon the rug, and
+resting both hands in Tessa's lap.
+
+"I was reading the other day"--he stooped to smooth Sue's flounce--"of a
+fellow who fell dead upon his wedding day, as soon as the knot was tied.
+Perhaps it was tied too tight and choked him. Suppose I drop dead,
+Susan, will you like to be a bewitching young widow so soon? Whom would
+you find to flirt with before night?"
+
+"Gerald, you are wicked!"
+
+"Probably this bridegroom had heart disease. I haven't heart disease,
+except for you, my Shrine, my Heart's Desire."
+
+"Isn't he wretched, Tessa? He tells me all kinds of stories about people
+dying of joy!"
+
+He bent forward, drawing her towards him backward, and with both arms
+around her, kissed the top of her head and her forehead.
+
+"You mustn't do so before folks," said Sue shaking herself free.
+
+"Mystic isn't folks! She is my guardian angel."
+
+"I know that you would rather have married her."
+
+"But she wouldn't rather have married me, would you, Mystic?"
+
+"I can't imagine it," returned Tessa, as seriously as he had spoken.
+"Set your jealous heart at rest, Sue."
+
+"I never thought of it, but once in my life," he continued, musingly,
+"and that was when I was down in the deeps about you, Susan; I did think
+that she might drag me out--a drowning man, you know, will catch at a
+straw. It was one night when she was weeding her pansies and refused to
+ride with me. I'm glad that you never _did_ refuse me, Mystic, you
+couldn't be setting there so composedly."
+
+"Oh, yes, I would; I should have known that you were insane."
+
+"I was insane--all one week."
+
+"I believe that," said Sue.
+
+"I wonder what we shall all be thinking about the next time that we
+three sit here together! It will be too late for us to go back then,
+Susan; the die will be cast, the Rubicon crossed, another poor man
+undone forever. Are you regretting it, child?" drawing her again towards
+him backward and gazing down into her face. "Shall we quit at this last
+last minute? Speak the word! You never shall throw it up at me, that I
+urged you into it. It will be a mess for us if we do hate each other
+after awhile."
+
+"I will never hate you, Gerald."
+
+"But I might hate you, though, who knows?" smoothing her hair with his
+graceful, weak hands.
+
+"Then Tessa shall be peacemaker," said Sue straightening herself.
+
+"No; I will not," replied Tessa, gathering her work and rising. "Sue,
+you will find me up-stairs."
+
+"Then I'm coming, too; I don't want to stay and be sentimental. Gerald
+will talk--I know him--and I will cry, and how I would look to-morrow! I
+want you to do a little fixing for me and to try my hair low and then
+high."
+
+"I like it high," said Dr. Lake.
+
+"I don't. I like it low. Tessa you shall try it low, like Nan Gerard's.
+Say, Gerald, shall I put on my dress after she has fixed my hair and
+come down and let you see it."
+
+"I think I have seen it. Didn't you try it on for me and tell me that
+that fellow liked it? I hate that dress; if you dress to please me, you
+will wear the one you have on now."
+
+"This old thing! I see myself. No, I shall wear my wedding dress. It
+fits to perfection. I want to look pretty once in my life."
+
+"You will never look prettier than you do this minute! Come here,"
+opening his arms towards her.
+
+"No, I won't. Let me alone, Dr. Lake."
+
+Tessa was already on the stairs; Sue ran towards her laughing and
+screaming, the parlor door was closed with a bang.
+
+"Now he's angry," cried Sue, tripping on the stairs. "I don't care; he
+wants me to stay and talk sentiment, and I _hate_ being sentimental.
+And, Tessa, you sha'n't talk to me, either."
+
+"Where is your father?" inquired Tessa, standing on the threshold of
+Sue's chamber.
+
+"In the dining-room drying his feet and drinking a cup of coffee."
+
+"Don't you want to go down and say good night? He will lose every thing
+when he loses you."
+
+Sue hesitated. "I don't know how to be tender and loving, I should make
+a fool of myself; he isn't over and above pleased with this thing
+anyway; he never did pet me as your father has petted you. Your father
+is like a mother. He said once when I was a little girl that he wished
+that I had died and Freddie had lived; Freddie was two years older and
+as bright as a button. Father loved him. I shall never forget that; I
+shall never forgive him no matter how kind he is to me. And he swears at
+me when he is angry with me; he used to, but Gerald told him that he
+should not swear at _his_ wife! Father said that he didn't mean any
+thing by it. Gerald will be kinder to me than father has been; father
+swears at me in one breath and calls me the comfort of his old age in
+the next. You can't turn him into your father if you talk about him all
+night."
+
+"But he will be glad if you go down; he will think of it some day and so
+will you."
+
+"He isn't sentimental and I can't be. Besides I have some things to put
+into my trunk, and I want to put a ruffle into my wrapper that I may
+have it all ready. It's eleven o'clock now; we shall not be asleep
+to-night."
+
+Tessa urged no more; it was not her father who was drying his feet and
+drinking his coffee down-stairs alone on the night before her wedding
+day. How he would look at her and take her into his arms with tears.
+
+Sue opened her trunk. "Gerald's things are all in. It does seem queer to
+have his things packed up with mine. And when we come home every thing
+will go on just the same only I shall be Mrs. Lake instead of Miss
+Greyson."
+
+As Tessa stood behind her arranging her hair, She said, "There, I like
+that. I almost look like Nan Gerard. What do you think she said to-day?
+She was here with Mary Sherwood to see father and they saw Mr. Ralph in
+my album. 'That's the man I intend to marry,' she said, 'eyes, money,
+and all.' Mary scolded her but she only laughed. She said that if she
+couldn't get him, she should take the professor, for he was just as
+handsome and could talk about something beside paregoric and postmortem
+examinations."
+
+Tessa said nothing. How she had pitied Nan Gerard, and how harshly she
+had misjudged Dr. Towne. She was awakened in the night by Sue's voice--
+
+"Put your arm around me, Tessa."
+
+The long night ended at last in the dull dawn, for it was raining still.
+Tessa had slept fitfully; Sue had lain perfectly quiet, not speaking
+again or moving.
+
+At eleven o'clock Sue and Dr. Lake were married. Dr. Greyson sat with
+his head in his hands, turned away from them, his broad frame shaking
+from head to foot; Tessa did not look at Dr. Lake: she sat on a sofa
+beside Mrs. Towne, with her eyes fixed on the carpet. Sue cried and
+laughed together when her father kissed her; she drew herself to the
+full height of Mrs. Gerald Lake, when Dr. Towne shook hands with her. At
+half past twelve the bride and bridegroom were driven to the depot;
+Tessa remained to give a few orders to the servants, and was then taken
+home in Dr. Towne's carriage.
+
+"It seems to me as lonely as a funeral," she said; "and Sue is laughing
+and eating chocolate cream drops this very minute. Marriage should be a
+leap into the sunshine."
+
+"I hope that yours will be," her companion said in his gravest tone.
+
+"If it ever _is_, you may rest assured that it will be. It will be the
+very happiest sunshine that ever shone out of heaven."
+
+She was learning to talk to Dr. Towne as easily as she talked to her
+father, for he was the one man in the world that she was sure that she
+would never marry; she knew that he desired it as little as she did
+herself.
+
+"Why will it be so happy?"
+
+"Because I shall wait till I am _satisfied_."
+
+"Satisfied with him? You will never be that."
+
+"Then I shall wither in single blessedness; I shall be unhappily not
+married instead of unhappily married."
+
+"Philip Towne is your ideal."
+
+"I know it," she said. "I like to think that he is in the world. He
+makes me as happy as a pansy."
+
+"Women are never happy with their ideals."
+
+"They seldom have an opportunity of testing it; Professor Towne has a
+pure heart and he has brains."
+
+Dr. Towne answered in words that she never forgot, "That is what he says
+of you."
+
+"Oh, I am so glad! I like to have that said of me better than any
+thing."
+
+She remembered, but she would not tell him, that a lady had said of him,
+having seen him but a few moments, and not having heard him speak, that
+he was a "rock."
+
+"And I love rocks and know all about them," she had added.
+
+"They give shadow in a weary land," Tessa had thought. "I have been in a
+weary land and he has _not_ been a shadow to me."
+
+After a silent moment he spoke, "Don't you think that you were rather
+hard on me last week?"
+
+"Yes," she said frankly, "I have thought it all over; I intended to tell
+you that I was sorry; I _am_ sorry; I will not do so again."
+
+"Till next time?"
+
+"There shall not be any next time; in my thoughts I have been very
+unjust to you; I have come nearer hating, really _hating_ you, than any
+other person I ever knew. I am sorry; I am always sorry to be unjust."
+
+One look into the sunshiny eyes satisfied her that she was forgiven. It
+almost seemed as if they were on the old confidential footing.
+
+"Have you gathered any autumn leaves?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, some beautiful ones. I did not get any last year--" She stopped,
+confused.
+
+She had lived through her year without him. Was he remembering last
+October, too?
+
+About sunset it cleared; she was glad for Dr. Lake's sake; about the
+bride she did not think; Sue would be thankful if none of her bridal
+finery were spoiled.
+
+The evening mail brought a letter from Dinah.
+
+There were two pieces of news in it, in both of which Tessa was
+interested. The school-master was twenty-one years of age, "a lovable
+fellow, the room grows dark when he goes out of it, and he likes best
+the books that I do." This came first, she read on to find that
+Professor Towne's mother and sister had come this summer to the house
+over the way, that Miss Towne was "perfectly lovely" and had been an
+invalid for fifteen years, not having put her foot to the ground in all
+that time; she could move about on the first floor, but passed most of
+her time in a chair, reading, writing, and doing the most beautiful
+fancy work. She was beautiful, like Professor Towne, but the mother was
+only a fussy old lady. Her name was Sarepta!
+
+Dinah's letters were rather apt to be ecstatic and incoherent. Tessa
+wrote five pages in her book that night and a foolscap sheet to Dinah.
+
+She fell asleep thinking of what Professor Towne had said about her.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.--MOODS.
+
+
+All through the month of October she felt cross, sometimes she looked
+cross, but she did not speak one cross word, not even once; she was not
+what we call "sweet" in her happiest moods, but she was thoroughly sound
+in her temper and often a little, just a very little, sharp. Never sharp
+to her father, however, because she reverenced him, and never to her
+mother because she was pitiful towards her; she could appreciate so few
+of life's best havings and givings, that Tessa could never make her
+enjoyment less by speaking the thoughts that, at times, almost forced
+their own utterance; therefore her mood was kept to herself all through
+the month.
+
+There was no month in the year that she loved as well as she loved
+October; in any of its days it was a trial to be kept within doors.
+
+She would have phrased her mood as "cross" if she had had the leisure or
+the inclination to keep a diary; she had kept a journal during the first
+year of her friendship with Ralph Towne and had burned it before the
+year was ended in one of her times of being ashamed of herself.
+
+One of the happenings that irritated her was the finding in her desk a
+scrap of a rhyme that she had written one summer day after a talk with
+Ralph Towne; she dropped it into the parlor grate chiding herself for
+ever having been so nonsensical and congratulating herself upon having
+outgrown it.
+
+It was called _The Silent Side_ and was the story of a maiden wandering
+in the twilight up a lane bordered with daisies, somebody didn't come
+and her eyes grew tired of watching and her heart beat faint with
+waiting, so she wandered down the daisy-bordered lane! She did feel a
+little tender over the last lines even if she were laughing over it:
+
+ "'Father,' she said, 'I may not say,
+ But will _you_ not tell him I love him so?"
+
+Had any one in all the world of maidenhood beside her ever prayed such a
+prayer? Old words came to her: "Thou knowest my foolishness."
+
+The rhyme was dated the afternoon that Ralph Towne had said--but what
+right had she to remember anything that he had said? He had forgotten
+and despised her for remembering; but he could not despise her as much
+as she despised herself!
+
+Why was it that understanding him as she certainly did understand him,
+that she knew that she would fly to the ends of the earth with him if he
+should take her hand and say, "Come"; that is, she was _afraid_ that she
+would. It was no marvel that the knowledge gave her a feeling of
+discomfort, of intense dissatisfaction with herself; how woefully wrong
+she must be for such a thing to be true!
+
+On the blank side of a sheet of manuscript, she scribbled a stanza that
+haunted her; it gave expression to the life she had lived during the two
+years just passed.
+
+ "A nightingale made a mistake;
+ She sang a few notes out of tune;
+ Her heart was ready to break,
+ And she hid from the moon."
+
+In this month her book was accepted; that check for two hundred and six
+dollars gave pleasure that she and others remembered all their lives;
+with this check came one for fifteen dollars for Dinah; she almost
+laughed her crossness away over Dine's little check.
+
+Dine's reply was characteristic:
+
+"Thus endeth my first and last venture upon the literary sea; I follow
+in your wake no longer.
+
+"If it were matrimony now--
+
+"John (isn't John a grand, strong name?) doesn't like literary women. He
+reads Owen Meredith to me, and Miss Mulock. He says that I am like Miss
+Mulock's _Edna_."
+
+Each letter of Dine's teemed with praises of John Woodstock; she thought
+that he was like Adam Bede, or Ninian in "Head of the Family," or
+perhaps Max in "A Life for a Life"; she was lonely all day long without
+him, and as happy as she could be on earth with him all the long
+evenings.
+
+Tessa frowned over the letters; Dine made no allusion to him in letters
+written to her father and mother; her whole loving, girlish heart she
+poured out to Tessa. And Tessa cried over them and prayed over them.
+
+Sue returned from her bridal tour undeniably miserable; even the radiant
+mood of Dr. Lake was much subdued. Tessa met them together at Mrs.
+Towne's one evening, two days after the coming home, and was cut to the
+heart by their manner towards each other: she was defiant; he,
+imploring.
+
+"I'm sorry I'm married any way," she exclaimed.
+
+"Don't say that," he remonstrated, his face flushing painfully.
+
+"I will say it--I _do_ say it! I _am_ sorry!"
+
+"You know that you don't mean it."
+
+"Yes, I do mean it, too."
+
+Dr. Towne glanced at Tessa and gave an embarrassed laugh. Mrs. Towne's
+expression became severe; Tessa could have shaken Sue. Nan Gerard turned
+on the music stool with her most perfect laugh; Tessa could have shaken
+_her_ for the enlightenment that ran through it.
+
+"We will have no more music after that," said Professor Towne.
+
+Sue bade Tessa good night holding both her hands. "I wish I had married
+Stacey," she whispered.
+
+"Don't tell Dr. Lake, I beg of you."
+
+"Oh, he knows it. Come and see me."
+
+"No, I will not. You shall not talk to me about your husband."
+
+"I will if I want to. You must come."
+
+"Do come," urged Dr. Lake coming towards them. But she would not
+promise.
+
+The last Saturday evening in October found Tessa alone before the fire
+in Mrs. Towne's sitting-room; Mrs. Towne was not well, and had sent for
+her to come; she had gone to her sleeping room immediately after tea,
+and asked Tessa to come to her in two hours.
+
+She was in a "mood"; so she called it to herself, a mood in which
+self-analysis held the prominent place; her heart was aching, she knew
+not for what, she hardly cared, if the aching might be taken away and
+she could go to sleep and then awake to find the sun shining.
+
+For the last hour she had been curled up in a crimson velvet chair, part
+of the time with her head bowed upon the arm; there were tears on her
+eyelashes, on her fingers, and on the crimson velvet. In the low light,
+she was but a gray figure crowned with chestnut braids, and only that
+Ralph Towne saw when he entered noiselessly through the half open door.
+
+Tessa thought that no one in the world moved so gently or touched her so
+lightly as Ralph Towne. He stood an instant beside her before she
+stirred, then she raised her head slowly, ashamed of her flushed, wet
+cheeks. She could not hide from the moon.
+
+"Well?" she said, thinking of her eyes and cheeks.
+
+"Are you dreaming dreams alone, here in the dark?"
+
+"I'm afraid so; I dream too many dreams; I want something real; I do not
+like the stuff that dreams are made of."
+
+"You are real enough." He leaned against the low mantel with one elbow
+resting upon it; she did not lift her eyes; she was afraid. Had he come
+to say something to her?
+
+"Miss Tessa."
+
+She did not reply, she was rubbing her fingers over the crimson velvet.
+
+"I have been thinking of something that I wish to say to you."
+
+"Well, I am approachable," in a light, saucy voice.
+
+"Think well before you speak; it is a question that, middle-aged as I
+am, I never asked any woman before; I want to ask you to become my
+wife."
+
+She had raised her eyes in surprise, unfeigned surprise.
+
+"You need not look like that," he said irritably; "you look as if you
+had never thought of it."
+
+"I have not--for a long time; perhaps I did once--before I became old and
+wise. I _am_ surprised, I can not understand it; I was so sure that you
+could never care for me."
+
+"Why should I not? It is the most natural thing in the world."
+
+"I do not think so; I can not understand."
+
+"Accept it upon my testimony, do not try to understand it."
+
+He betrayed no feeling, except in his quickened tone; she was too
+bewildered to be conscious of any feeling at all; she listened to the
+sound of her own voice, as if another were speaking; she remembered
+afterward, that for once in her life she had heard the sound of her own
+voice. She was thinking, "My voice _is_ pleasant, only so cold and
+even."
+
+"Will you not answer me?"
+
+She was thinking; she had forgotten to answer.
+
+"Why should you like me?" she said at last.
+
+"There's reason enough, allow me to judge; but you do not come to the
+point."
+
+"I do not know how."
+
+"I thought that coming to the point was one of your excellences."
+
+"Your question--your assertion rather--is something very new."
+
+She could see the words; she was reciting them from a printed page.
+
+"Don't you know whether you like me or not?" he asked in the old
+assured, boyish way.
+
+"No, I do not know that; if I did I should care for what you are saying,
+and now I do not care. Once, in that time when I loved you and you did
+not care, I would have died with joy to hear you say what you have said;
+my heart would have stopped beating; I should have been too glad to
+live; but perhaps when _that_ you went away and died, the Tessa that
+loved you went away and died, too. I think that I _did_ die--of shame.
+Now I hear you speak the words that I used to pray then every night that
+you might speak to me, and now I do not care! When I was little I cried
+myself sick once for something I wanted, and when mother gave it to me I
+was too sick and tired to care. No, I do not want to marry you, Dr.
+Towne, I am too sick and tired to love you."
+
+"Why do you not want to marry me?"
+
+"Because--because--" she looked up into his grave eyes--"I do not want to;
+I am not satisfied with you."
+
+"Why are you not satisfied with me?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"Are you disappointed in me? Have I changed?"
+
+"Oh, no," she said sorrowfully, "you have not changed--not since I have
+known you this time. It is like this, as if I were blind when I knew you
+before, and I loved you for what you were to me; but as I could not see
+you, I loved you for what I imagined you to be, and now, I am not blind,
+my eyes are wide, wide open, and I look at you and wonder 'where is the
+one I knew?' I do not know you; you are a stranger to me; I would love
+you if I could; I can not say _yes_ and not love you. I have never told
+any one, but I may tell you now. While you were away at St. Louis, I
+promised to marry some one; he had loved me all my life, and I was so
+heart-broken because of the mistake that I had made about you; and I
+wanted some one to care for me, so that I might forget how I loved
+somebody that did not love me. And then I was wild when I knew what I
+had done! I did not love him; I felt as if I were bound in iron; I shall
+never forget that. I do not want to feel bound in iron to you. Why did
+you not ask me last year when you knew how I cared for you?"
+
+He dropped his eyes, the hot color flushing even to his forehead. "I
+could not--sincerely."
+
+"Why did you act as if you liked me?"
+
+"I did like you. I did not love you. I did not understand. I can not
+tell you how unhappy I was when I found that you had misunderstood me. I
+would not have hurt you for all the universe; I did not dream that you
+could misunderstand me; I was attracted to you; I did not know that I
+manifested any stronger feeling. Surely you have forgiven me."
+
+"Yes, I have forgiven you; I did not really blame you; I knew that you
+did not understand. You are a stupid fellow about women.--You are only a
+stupid, dear, big boy."
+
+"But you do not answer me."
+
+"I _have_ answered you. Do you ask me sincerely now?" she asked
+curiously.
+
+"You know I do," he said angrily.
+
+"Do you ask me because Miss Gerard has refused you?" with a flash of
+merriment crossing her face.
+
+"I never asked Miss Gerard."
+
+"Did you flirt with her?"
+
+"I suppose you give it that name. I was attracted towards her, of
+course, but I soon found that she had no depth; she would cling to me, I
+could not shake her off. I took her to Mayfield this morning; she asked
+to go, I could not refuse the girl. She has made several pretty things
+for me; I showed my appreciation by buying pieces of jewelry for her;
+was that flirting? I never kissed her, or said I loved her, or talked
+any nonsense to her."
+
+"Of course not. You do not know how."
+
+"I know how to talk sense, Miss Tessa."
+
+"Are you asking me because your mother loves me so much?"
+
+"Is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?"
+
+"Yes," she said, her eyes filling at his tone, "I can not believe it. It
+is as if you had put both hands around my throat and choked my breath
+away and then said politely, 'Excuse me.'"
+
+"Is my love so little to you as that?"
+
+"I have not seen it yet; you _say_ you love me, that is all."
+
+"Is not that enough?"
+
+"It can not be enough, for it does not satisfy me. I have believed so
+long that you despised me; one word from you can not change it all."
+
+"Is there something wrong about me?"
+
+"Wrong? Oh, no. How could there be? I do believe that you are a _good_
+man."
+
+"You think that you can not be happy with me?" he asked patiently.
+
+"I am happy enough always, everywhere; I was as happy as a bird in a
+tree before I knew you; you set me to crying for something, and then
+held out your hand empty."
+
+"I love you; isn't that full enough?"
+
+"No, that is not full enough. I want you to _be_ all that I believed you
+to be. I shall not be satisfied till then. When you think of me you may
+think of me hungering and thirsting for you to be all that I can dream
+of your being--all that God is willing to make you."
+
+The light had died out of his eyes.
+
+"Do you know some one that does satisfy you?"
+
+"I know good people, but they do not satisfy me."
+
+"Philip Towne?"
+
+"I should as soon think of loving St. John."
+
+"Tell me, _do_ you love him?"
+
+"Dr. Towne, I never thought of such a thing!" she said with quick
+indignation.
+
+"You are a Mystic; Dr. Lake has named you true. Come, be sensible and
+don't talk riddles; don't talk like a book; talk plain, good sense; say
+_yes_, and leave all your whims behind you forever."
+
+"Loving you was a whim; shall I leave that behind forever?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I could not endure your presence; it is that that keeps you near
+me now. It is not enough for you to love me; I should die of hunger if I
+did not love you."
+
+"Love me, then."
+
+Her head went down upon the arm of the chair; she covered her face with
+both hands; a childish attitude she often assumed when alone.
+
+"I can't, I can't! I want to; I would if I could! it's too late; I can't
+go back and see you as you were--"
+
+"I have asked you to forgive me."
+
+"I do, I do; but I do not love you as I want to love you. I shall never
+marry any one, you may be sure of that; I do not want to be married. Why
+must I? Who says I must?"
+
+"I say so."
+
+"Your authority I do not recognize. The voice must come from God to my
+own heart."
+
+"Lift your head. Look at me."
+
+She obeyed.
+
+"I wish you to understand that I am not to be trifled with; this is
+definite; this is final; I have asked and you have refused. You need not
+play with me thinking that I shall ask you again, _I never shall_.
+Remember, I never shall."
+
+"I do not wish you to ask me again."
+
+"Then this ends the matter."
+
+"This ends the matter," she repeated.
+
+"My mother is not well, she will miss you; you will stay with her just
+the same. She will not surmise any thing. She loves you as I did not
+know that one woman could love another."
+
+"Is that why you wish to marry me?"
+
+"No. I know my own mind. I have loved you ever since I knew you, but I
+was not aware of it; I did not know it until I knew that Miss Gerard was
+not like you."
+
+"Oh, I am so sorry! This is the hardest of all. But I might grow not to
+like you at all; I might rush away from you; it takes so much love and
+confidence and sympathy to be willing to give one's self."
+
+"I am not in a frame of mind to listen to such things; you forget that
+you have thrown me away for the sake of a whim!"
+
+"I want to tell your mother; I can not bear for her to be so kind to
+me--"
+
+"It isn't enough to hurt me, but you must hurt her, also. She would not
+understand--any more than I do--why you throw me away."
+
+"I will not tell her, but I shall feel like a hypocrite. You will not
+utterly despise me."
+
+"You can not expect me to feel very kindly towards you. Why may I not
+lose all but the memory of _you_?"
+
+"You may. I am willing," she answered wearily. "Oh, I _wanted_ to be
+satisfied with you."
+
+He had left the room with his last words, not waiting for reply.
+
+And she could only cry out, with a dry, hard sob, "Oh, Ralph, Ralph, I
+_wanted_ to be satisfied with you!"
+
+
+
+
+XIX.--THE OLD STORY.
+
+
+One afternoon in the reading-room she found two notices of her book; one
+was in _Hearth and Home_, the other in _The Lutheran Observer_; the
+former ran in this style:
+
+"'Under the Wings' by Theresa Louise Wadsworth is the most lifelike
+representation of a genuine live boy that we have seen for many a day.
+We are almost tempted to think that the author was once a boy herself
+she is so heartily in sympathy with a boy's thoughts and feelings. It is
+a book that every boy ought to read, and we are confident that no boy
+can read it without being bettered by it."
+
+The other she was more pleased with:
+
+"Rob is a genuine boy, with all manner of faults and pranks; but a
+tender, truthful heart, and a determination for the right that brings
+him through safely. But specially is he delightful in juxtaposition with
+Nell, a little girl who says the quaintest things in the most laughable,
+most lovable manner. Altogether it is a thoroughly enjoyable book, sweet
+and saintly, too; though not saintly after the cut and dried style of
+youthful piety."
+
+She turned the papers with a startled face as if the lady in the black
+cloak near her had guessed what she had looked for and had found; as if
+the blonde mustache hidden behind Emerson surmised that she had written
+a book and wondered why she had not attempted something deeper; as if
+Mr. Lewis Gesner reading a newspaper with his forehead puckered into a
+frown knew that she was slightly a blue-stocking, and decided that she
+might better be learning how to be a good wife for somebody.
+
+"I _am_ commonplace," she soliloquized, running down the long flight of
+stairs; "ten years ago when my heroines were Rosalie and Viola, and
+their lovers bandits or princes in disguise, who would have believed
+that I could have settled down into writing good books for good little
+children?"
+
+That evening Mr. Hammerton took from his memorandum book three square
+inches of printed matter, neatly and exactly folded, and dropped it into
+her hand.
+
+"There's a feather in your cap, Lady Blue; it is plucked from the
+_Evening Mail_."
+
+She read it, by the light of the shaded lamp, standing at the
+sitting-room table. Mrs. Wadsworth looked up from her work, regarding
+her curiously; Tessa did not observe the expression of pride and love
+that flitted across her face. Mrs. Wadsworth loved Tessa more than she
+loved any other human being; indeed, with all her capacity for loving;
+but Tessa would never discover it. Mrs. Wadsworth was not aware of it,
+herself; Mr. Wadsworth saw it and was glad. Tessa read eagerly:
+
+"'Under the Wings' is the title of an excellent book by Theresa Louise
+Wadsworth issued in neat form by----. The characters of the boyish
+hero--wilful, merry, irreverent, honest, and bold, and the heroine--happy,
+serious, inquiring, and lovable, are drawn with no mean skill, while the
+other personages, the kind and pious grandmother, the snappish, but
+well-meaning mother, the deacon, and others, are sketched with scarcely
+less truth and vividness. The development of the Christian faith in the
+soul of wild Rob is traced easily and naturally, the incidents are
+numerous and interesting; the whole movement of the story is in helpful
+sympathy with human hearts."
+
+"What is it, daughter?" inquired her father arranging the chess-men.
+
+"She is modest as well as famous. I will read it," said Mr. Hammerton,
+"and here's your letter from Dine; I knew that that would insure my
+welcome. Do you know, I forgot to inquire for myself? I never did such a
+thing before. Father will go to the mail, however."
+
+Moving apart from the group, she ran through the long letter; coloring
+and biting her lips as she read. Mrs. Wadsworth's little rocker was
+drawn to the table; the light from the tall lamp fell over her face and
+hair, touching her hands and her work; the low, white forehead, the wavy
+hair, the pretty lips and chin were pleasant to look upon; when she was
+in a happy state of mind, this little lady was altogether kissable.
+
+"What does Dine say?" she asked.
+
+"Not much. No news," stammered Tessa.
+
+"Hurry then and let me read it."
+
+"Excuse me, it is purely confidential, every vestige to be consigned to
+the flames. You are to have a letter in a day or two."
+
+Mr. Hammerton gave her a quick glance and moved his queen into check.
+She took the letter into the parlor for a second perusal.
+
+"Oh, Tessa, my dear, big, wise sister, I've got something to tell you.
+What should I do if I hadn't somebody to tell? At first I thought I
+wouldn't tell you or any body, and then I knew I must. Norah knows, but
+she will never tell. She does not know about Gus. I have never told
+that, but she knows about my wonderful John! I don't know how to begin
+either; I guess I will begin in the middle; all the blanks your own
+imagination must fill. You know all about John; I've told you enough if
+your head isn't too full of literary stuff to hold common affairs; _I'm
+in love_ and he is, too, of course. I should not be if he were not. I
+mean I should not tell of it if he were not. I'm glad that you are not
+the kind of elder sister that can't be told such things, for I could not
+tell mother, and I would not dare tell dear, old father. Not that it is
+so dreadful to be in love, even if I have known him but seven weeks
+to-night; I fell in love with him the instant he raised his eyes and
+took hold of my hand. Living under the same roof and eating together
+three times a day (he eats so nicely), and ciphering and studying and
+reading together, and going to church and prayer-meeting and
+singing-school together, make the time seem ten times as long and give
+twenty times as many opportunities of falling in love decorously as I
+could have found in Dunellen in a year! But I am not apologizing for
+_that_. It's too delightfully delicious to have a _real_ lover! Not that
+he has asked me _yet_! I wouldn't have him do it for any thing; it would
+spoil it all. But we both knew it as Adam and Eve knew it! Now the
+dreadfulness of it is that I have no right to do such a thing. I came
+here believing that I was lawfully and forever engaged to dear old Gus,
+spectacles, chess-board, dictionary and all. Not that _he_ ever said a
+word to _me_! Don't you know one night I told you that I had a secret?
+How glad I was of it then! I couldn't sleep that night and for days I
+felt dizzy; for Gus had been my hero ever since he told me stories when
+I was a wee child. And so of course I thought I _loved_ him. What is
+love, anyway? Who knows? That secret was this: I heard dear, old, wise
+Gus tell father that he loved _me_ (just think, _me!_) and that he was
+waiting for me to love him, dear, old boy! He would not try to make me
+love him, he wanted it to come naturally; he would not speak to me or
+urge me, he wanted to find me loving him and then he would ask me to
+give him what belonged to him. Wasn't it touching? I didn't know that he
+could be so lover-like. I didn't know that he ever would love anybody
+because he always talks books and politics and only made fun when I told
+him news about the girls. How could I help loving him when I knew that
+he loved me. Isn't that enough to make anybody love anybody?
+
+"Just as soon as I saw my wonderful John, then I knew that I did not
+love Gus, that I never had loved him, that I never _could_ love him. No,
+not to the end of time. If I had married him, I suppose that I should
+have been satisfied and thought I was as happy as I could be--I don't
+know, though. He was wise to let me wait and have a choice: it is cruel
+to ask girls before they have seen some one else; we do not know what we
+do want until we see it--or him. I am writing at the sitting-room table;
+John has not come home from the mail; Aunt Tessa knits a long, blue
+stocking and Uncle Knox is asleep with the big white and black cat on
+his knees.
+
+"I never could stay here but for John and Miss Towne. I have told _her_
+about John; she likes John. Every one does.
+
+"I want you to see my knight; he is not tall, he is broad-shouldered,
+with the loveliest complexion and blonde mustache, blue eyes, shining
+blue eyes, and auburn curly hair! that is, _rather_ auburn; I think it
+is more like reddish gold. I wish that you could hear him talk about
+making life a glorious success. He makes me feel brave and strong. Oh,
+isn't it a beautiful thing to live and have some one love you! I wish
+that you loved somebody; I do not like to be so happy and have you
+standing out in the cold. John thinks that _you_ are wonderful; I tell
+him that he will forget me when he has heard you talk.
+
+"Wise old Gus is a thousand miles over my head when he talks to me, but
+John walks by my side and speaks the thoughts that I have been thinking,
+only in so much more beautiful language; and he likes all the books I
+like, and my favorite poems and hymns. How will you break it to Gus? He
+must be told. He wrote to me two weeks ago, a long, interesting letter
+all about Dunellen news, which I haven't dared answer yet. I suppose I
+must. I showed it to John; he asked how old he was, and now he calls him
+'The Venerable.' He must not keep on thinking about me, for I never,
+never can like him, even if I never marry John. Do break it to him in
+some easy, _pleasant_ way; he will never imagine that _you_ know that he
+likes _me_. He never showed it any, I am sure. I always thought that it
+was you, and mother thinks so; I heard her telling father.
+
+"Be sure to write immediately, for I am as unhappy as I can be. And be
+sure to tell me what he says and how he takes it. Mary Sherwood wrote me
+that Sue told her that she and Dr. Lake had awful quarrels, and that
+once they didn't speak to each other for three days only in her father's
+presence. I never could quarrel with John. There he comes. I'll be
+writing when he comes in and not look up, and then he will come behind
+my chair and touch my curls when auntie isn't looking.
+
+"Write soon. Your ever loving Dine.
+
+"P.S.--John calls me Di: he doesn't like _Dine_."
+
+Crumbling the letter in both hands, she laid it upon the coals; then she
+stood with one foot on the fender, leaning forward with her forehead
+upon the mantel, thinking, thinking. Before she was aware the door was
+opened and some one came behind her and put both arms around her.
+
+"Is any thing the matter with Dine?"
+
+"Oh, no," shaking herself loose from his arms and creeping out of them.
+
+He pushed the ottoman nearer and seated himself upon the parrot and the
+roses; she stood on the edge of the rug, with her arms folded across her
+breast to keep herself quiet; how could she tell him the truth? He was
+not a boy to laugh and cry and fling it off; he had loved Dine as long
+as Felix Harrison had loved _her_! He would take it quietly enough; she
+had no dread of an outburst; it might be that Dine's silence in regard
+to his letter had been a preparation; surely every hard thing that came
+had its preparation; the heavy blow was never sent before the word of
+warning.
+
+"She is not sick?" he asked.
+
+"Sick!" She lingered over the word as if help would come before it were
+ended. "Oh, no, she is well and happy."
+
+"Does she write you secrets?"
+
+"She always tells me her secrets."
+
+"Has any phenomenon occurred?"
+
+"It isn't a phenomenon; it is something as old as Eve and as new as
+Dinah. She thinks she has found her Adam."
+
+"Ah!" in a constrained voice.
+
+She saw nothing but the fire; the long poker was laid across the fender,
+a handful of ashes had fallen through the grate. "Such things have to
+come, like the measles and mumps; I did hope, however, to keep her out
+of the contagion. But Mother Nature is wiser than any sister."
+
+"Why is it to be regretted?"
+
+"Because--oh, because, I have learned that one's eyes are always wide
+open afterward--they weep much and see clear; one can never be carelessly
+happy again; I wanted her to stay a little girl. Selfishly, perhaps. I
+thought there was time enough."
+
+"It is settled then--so soon?"
+
+"Nothing is settled, but that two people are in love, or believe
+themselves to be. Am I not a cynical elder sister?"
+
+"Is this her first experience?"
+
+"Who can say when a first experience is! Tennyson and moonlight walks
+are aggravating at their age." At their age! She felt as old as Miss
+Jewett to-night.
+
+"I hope he is worthy of her. She is a jewel."
+
+"She would not love him if he were not," said the elder sister proudly.
+
+"This is a secret?"
+
+"Yes; I know that I can trust you. It will be time enough to tell father
+and mother when he brings her home and kneels at their feet for their
+blessing."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"John Woodstock, the school-master. He has neither father nor mother, he
+is beautiful and good, enthusiastic and fascinating."
+
+She had not once lifted her eyes to his face; his fingers had clasped
+and unclasped themselves; his voice was not as steady as usual.
+
+"That notice was a very pretty puff, Lady Blue."
+
+"Yes, I like it I will paste it into my notebook."
+
+"Is that all you have seen?"
+
+"No, I saw two in the reading-room, but I like this better."
+
+"Are you writing now?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You are not on the lookout for Adam."
+
+"No. I will write and he shall search for me. Haven't you heard of that
+bird in Africa, which if you hunt for him, you can not find, but if you
+stay at home, he will come to you?"
+
+He had risen and stood in his usual uneasy fashion. "My congratulations
+to Dine."
+
+"I will tell her."
+
+He lingered on the hearth-rug, then at the door with his hand upon the
+knob.
+
+"Good night. I shall be busy for a week or two; do not expect to see
+me."
+
+"You will come when you can?"
+
+"Certainly." He went out and closed the door.
+
+She stood in the same position with her arms folded for the next half
+hour. How could Dine know what love was? How could she give up a man
+like Gus Hammerton for a light-haired boy who talked of making life a
+glorious success? He had his heartache now; it had come at last after
+all his years of watching Dine growing up: and no one could help him, he
+must fight it out alone; she remembered what he had said about quoting
+from a book for Dr. Lake. What "book man" could help him to-night? Would
+he open a book or fall upon his knees?
+
+Was _he_ sorrowful to-night too, Ralph Towne? How gentle he had been
+with her and how patient! They had met several times since; once, in his
+mother's presence, when he had spoken to her as easily as usual; at
+other times in the street; he had lifted his hat and passed on; the one
+glimpse of his eyes had been to reveal them very dark and very stern.
+She could hear Mr. Hammerton's voice calling back to her father from the
+gate; they both laughed and then his quick tramp sounded on the planks.
+
+The tramp kept on and on for hours; the moon arose late; he walked out
+into the country, now tramping along the wayside and now in the road; it
+was midnight when he turned his face homeward and something past one
+when he silently unlocked the door with his night-key and found his way
+to his room. There was a letter there from Dinah; his sister had laid it
+on his bureau. It was brief, formal, and ambiguous; she had subscribed
+herself "Your young, old friend, D." She did not say that she was glad
+of his letter, she did not ask him to write again. "She thinks that she
+must not write to me," he thought, "darling little Dine! I would like to
+see that John Woodstock!"
+
+
+
+
+XX.--SEVERAL THINGS.
+
+
+The November sky was full of clouds; Tessa liked a cloudy sky; the dried
+leaves whirled around her and rustled beneath her feet, fastening
+themselves to her skirt as she walked through them; she had stepped down
+into the gutter to walk through the leaves because they reminded her of
+her childish days when she used to walk through them and soil her
+stockings and endure a reprimand when her mother discovered the cause of
+it; then she had liked the sound of the leaves, now she only cared for
+them, as she did for several other things,--for the sake of the long ago
+past! She imagined herself a ten-year-old maiden with big blue eyes and
+long, bright braids hanging down her back and tied together at the ends
+with brown ribbon; she was coming from school with a Greenleaf's
+Arithmetic (she ciphered in long division and had a "table" to learn),
+"Parker's Philosophy" and "Magnall's Questions" in her satchel. The
+lesson to-morrow in that was about Tilgath-pilneser; she had stumbled
+over the queer name, so she would be sure to remember it. There were
+crumbs in the napkin in the satchel, too, she had had seed cake for
+lunch; and a lead pencil that Felix Harrison had sharpened for her at
+noon, when he had come down-stairs to ask Laura for his share of the
+lunch, and there was a half sheet of note paper with her spelling for
+to-morrow from "Scholar's Companion" written on it; perhaps there was a
+poorly written and ill-spelled note from Gus Hammerton's cousin, Mary
+Sherwood, and there might be a crochet needle and a spool of twenty
+cotton!
+
+She smiled over the inventory, lingering over each article; oh, if she
+only were going home from school with that satchel, to help her mother a
+little, play with Dine, and in the evening to look over her lessons
+sitting close to her father and then to coax him for a story. And then
+she would go to bed at eight o'clock to awake in the morning to another
+day. Mr. Hammerton said that it was a premature "_Vanitas vanitatem_"
+for her to declare that "growing up" was as bad as any thing a girl
+could dream!
+
+But then he did not know about poor Felix, and he could never guess what
+she had dreamed that she had found in Ralph Towne--and how empty life was
+because of this thing that had mocked her. Empty with all its fulness
+because of something that never had been; something that never could be
+in him.
+
+In those satchel-days her greatest trouble had been an interminable
+scolding from her mother, or the having to give to Dine her own share of
+cup-custard, when one chanced to be left from tea.
+
+It was a raw day; the wind played roughly with her veil; the fields were
+bleak, and the long lines of fence, stretching in every direction and
+running into places that she did not know and would not care for, gave
+her a feeling of homesickness. Homesickness with the home she had lived
+in all her life not a mile distant, with every one that she loved or
+ever had loved within three miles; every one but Dine, and Dine was as
+blithe and satisfied as any girl could be.
+
+Still she was homesick; she had been homesick since that evening by the
+fire in Mrs. Towne's sitting-room. Homesick because she had dreamed a
+dream that could never come true; now that he had asked her in plain,
+straightforward, manly words to love him and become his wife, her heart
+had opened, the light shone in, and she read all that the three years
+had written; she _had_ loved him, but the love had been crushed in
+shame--in shame for her mistake.
+
+"There she is _now_," cried a voice in the distance behind her.
+
+She turned to find Dr. Lake stopping his horse; he sprang out, not
+lightly, not like himself, and assisted his wife to the ground.
+
+"She prefers your company, it seems," he said, holding the reins with
+one hand and giving Tessa the other. "Talk fast now, for I shall not be
+gone long; I want to get home."
+
+"You can go home, I'll come when I like," replied Sue.
+
+"We stopped at your house," said Sue, as he drove on; "I asked him to
+leave me while he goes to Harrison's; that Felix is always having a fit
+or something. Do you think Gerald looks so sick?" squeezing her hand
+under the folds of Tessa's crimson and gray shawl that she might take
+her arm.
+
+"He is much changed; I did not like to look at him; has he been ill?"
+
+"Oh, you didn't hear then! It was day before yesterday! He was thrown
+out; the horse ran away; he isn't hurt much; he thinks he is, I do
+believe. I am not a nurse, I don't know how to coddle people and fuss
+over them. The horse is a strange one that father had taken to try, and
+he threw Gerald out and ran away and smashed the buggy, and a farmer
+brought him home. He did look as white as a sheet and he hasn't eaten
+any thing since; he went out yesterday and insisted upon coming out
+to-day. Father says that he's foolhardy; but I guess he knows that he
+isn't hurt; I sha'n't borrow trouble anyway. He mopes and feels blue,
+but he says nothing ails him; he's a doctor and he ought to know. Where
+are you going?"
+
+"Not anywhere in particular; I came out for the air; we will walk on
+slowly."
+
+"We might go as far as your seat on the roots. Wasn't that time an age
+ago? I didn't feel married-y one bit. I want to go over to Sherwoods
+to-night to the Sociable, but Gerald says that I am heartless to want to
+go. I don't think I am. I didn't get married to shut myself up. Gerald
+never has any time to go anywhere with me, and it's just as stupid and
+vexatious at home as it ever was. Don't _you_ ever get married."
+
+"Are you keeping your word?"
+
+"What word?"
+
+"The promise you made me that day by the brook."
+
+"About Gerald? Oh, sometimes I keep it and sometimes I don't. He always
+makes up first, I will say that for him. He will never let me go to
+sleep without kissing him good night."
+
+"Then you did not tell Mary Sherwood that once you did not speak for
+three days?"
+
+"Bless you, no; Gerald would not let that be true; it was no goodness in
+me that it wasn't true, though; perhaps I told her that."
+
+"Do you talk to her about him?"
+
+"Now, Granny, suppose I do!"
+
+Tessa stood still. "Promise me--you shall not take another step with me
+till you do--that you will not talk to any one against him."
+
+"I won't. Don't gripe my hand so tight. He is my husband, he isn't
+yours! When he's contrary, I'll be contrary, too, and I'll tell people
+if I like."
+
+"Then you forfeit my friendship; remember I am not your friend."
+
+"Tessa Wadsworth! you hateful old thing! you know I shall have to give
+in, for you are my best friend! There," laughing, "let me go, and I'll
+promise! I'll say all the ugly things I have to say to his own face."
+
+They walked on slowly; Sue rambling on and Tessa listening with great
+interest.
+
+"I had a letter from Stacey last week; Gerald has it in his pocket; he
+dictated the answer, and I wrote it in my most flourishing style. I've
+got somebody to take good care of me now--if he doesn't get sick! I don't
+like sick people; I made him some gruel yesterday and it was as thick as
+mush. Oh, the things he promises me when he gets rich! Gets rich! All he
+wants is for me to love him, poor dear! What _is_ love? Do you know?"
+
+"To discover is one of the things I live for; I know that it suffers
+long."
+
+"That's poetry! I don't want to suffer long and have Gerald sick. I had
+to get up last night and make him a mustard plaster, and do you believe
+I was so sleepy that I made it of ginger? He never told me till this
+morning."
+
+In half an hour he drove up swiftly behind them.
+
+"Susan, you can get in; I don't feel like getting out to help you. I
+feel very bad, I want to get home."
+
+He laid the reins in her hand. "You may drive; good-by, Mystic; you and
+I will have our talk another day."
+
+"Come and see us," Sue shouted back.
+
+The horse trotted on at good speed; Sue's blue veil floated backward;
+Tessa walked on thinking of Dr. Lake's pain-stricken face and figure.
+
+Her first words to Mary Sherwood that evening were:
+
+"How is Dr. Lake?"
+
+"Sick. Worse. Very sick, I suspect. Their girl told our girl that Mrs.
+Lake was frightened almost to death."
+
+"I hope she is," said Nan Gerard, "she deserves to be."
+
+Tessa kept herself in a sofa corner all the evening.
+
+Nan said that she was a queen surrounded by courtiers, for first one and
+then another came for a quiet talk. When she was not talking or
+listening, she was watching: figures, faces, voices, motions, all held
+something in them worth her studying; she had been watching under cover
+of a book of engravings Professor Towne, for some time before he came
+and stood at the arm of her sofa.
+
+She was shy, at first, as she ever was with strangers, but no one could
+be shy with him for a longer time than five minutes. Dine's last letter
+had contained an account of an afternoon with Miss Towne, with many
+quotations from her sayings.
+
+"My sister thinks that your sister is a saint," said Tessa; "she has
+written me about her beautiful life."
+
+"All about her invalids, I suppose. _Shut-ins_ she calls them! Invalids
+are her mania; she had thirty-five on her list at her last writing; she
+finds them north, south, east, and west."
+
+"Dine loves to hear about them; Miss Towne gives her some of their
+letters to read to Aunt Theresa. Dine runs over every morning to hear
+about last night's mail. I am looking forward to my good times with her
+if she will be as good to me as she is to my little sister."
+
+"She is looking forward to you; your sister's enthusiasm never flags
+when she may talk of you."
+
+The talk drifted into books; Mr. Hammerton drew nearer, his questions
+and apt replies added zest to the conversation; Tessa mentally decided
+that he was more original than the Professor; the Professor's questions
+were good, but no one in all _her_ world could reply like Gus Hammerton;
+she was proud of him to-night with a feeling of ownership; in loving
+Dine, had he not become as near as a brother to her?
+
+This feeling of ownership was decidedly pleasant; with it came a safe,
+warm feeling that she was taken care of; that she had a right to be
+taken care of and to be proud of him. No one in the world, the most
+keen-eyed student of human nature, could ever have guessed that he was
+suffering from a heartache; he had greeted her with the self-possession
+of ten years ago, had inquired about the "folks at home," and asked if
+Dine were up in the clouds still. Could Dine have made a mistake? Had
+she dreamed it?
+
+Professor Towne moved away to go to Nan Gerard; Tessa listened to Mr.
+Hammerton, he was telling her about a discovery in science, and half
+comprehending and not at all replying she watched Professor Towne's
+countenance and motions. She could hear about this discovery some other
+time, but she might not have another opportunity to study the Professor.
+He was her lesson to-night. As he talked, she decided that he did not so
+much resemble his cousin as her first glance had revealed; his voice was
+resonant, his manner more courteous; he was not at all the "big boy," he
+was dignified, frank, and yet reserved; simple, at times, as his sister
+might be, and cultured, far beyond any thing she had ever thought of in
+regard to Dr. Towne; he was as intellectual as Gus Hammerton, as
+gracious as Felix Harrison, with as much heart as Dr. Lake, a physical
+presence as fascinating as Dr. Towne, and as pure-hearted and
+spiritualized as only himself could be. She had found her ideal at last.
+She had found him and was scrutinizing him as coolly and as critically
+as if he were one of the engravings in the book in her lap. She would
+never find a flaw in him; when she wrote her novel he should be her
+hero.
+
+"Why, doctor! Have the skies fallen? Did you hear that we were all taken
+with convulsions?"
+
+Nan Gerard's laugh followed this; the doctor's reply was cool and
+commonplace.
+
+"What is the title of your book?" Mr. Hammerton was asking. "'Hepsey's
+Heartache?' 'Jennie's Jumble?' 'Dora's Distress?' 'Fannie's Fancy?' or
+it may be 'Up Top or Down Below,' 'Smashed Hopes or Broken Idols.'"
+
+"I will not answer you if you are not serious."
+
+"I thought that young ladies gloried in sentiment."
+
+She turned the leaves of her book.
+
+"Lady Blue, I can not be a just critic; I can not take a sentimental
+standpoint; you take it naturally and truly; you are right to do so; it
+is your mission, your calling, your election. Do not think that I
+despise sentiment and the ideal world of feeling--"
+
+"You know that I do not think that," she interrupted earnestly.
+
+"These questions of feeling can not be tackled like a problem in
+mathematics, and an answer given in cold, clear cut, adequate words;
+such a problem I like to tackle; such an answer I like to give; but
+these sentimental questions in 'Blighted Hopes' are many sided,
+involved, and curvilinear; they are for the theologian, metaphysician,
+and mystic. What can you and I say about life's hard questions after
+Ecclesiastes and Job?"
+
+"Then you think I am presuming?"
+
+"Did I not just say that sentiment is your mission? The story of each
+human life has a pathos of its own, and each is an enigma of which God
+only knows the solution."
+
+She colored and dropped her eyes; he did not dream that she knew any
+thing of the "pathos" in his life. How kind she would be to him!
+
+"You are living your solution; perhaps you will help me to find mine."
+
+"I can't imagine any one in the world knowing you well enough to be of
+any help to you."
+
+"Very likely; but I am not on a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds,
+crowned with a diadem of snow!"
+
+"It's a little bit warm at the foot of Mount Blanc," she replied
+laughing.
+
+"Then you shall live at the foot."
+
+"Dine and I," she answered audaciously.
+
+"Not Dine! She has gone away from us; she would rather listen to a
+love-ditty from the lips of her new acquaintance than a volume of sober
+sense from us."
+
+"I had not thought to be jealous. She is not taking any thing from me."
+
+"Be careful; never tell her any thing again; if you write to her that
+Mary wears a black silk to-night, and that Nan has geranium leaves in
+her hair, she will run and tell him. She will never keep another secret
+for you."
+
+Tessa looked grave. She never would be supreme in her little sister's
+heart again. Perhaps this evening she had arrayed herself in garnet and
+gone with him to the mite society, and was laughing and playing games,
+fox and geese, or ninepins, in somebody's little whitewashed parlor,
+forgetting that such a place as Dunellen was down upon the map.
+
+"Gus, we want you," said Mary Sherwood, approaching them. "The girls are
+having a quarrel about who wrote something; now, go and tease them to
+your heart's content."
+
+"Wrote what?" asked Tessa.
+
+"Oh, I don't know. Why are you so still? You are sitting here as stately
+and grand and pale and intellectual--one must be pale to look
+intellectual, I suppose--as if you had written _Middlemarch_. I thought
+that you never went home without a separate talk with every person in
+the room, and there you sit like a turtle in a shell. What change has
+passed over the spirit of your dream?"
+
+"I feel quiet; I feel as if I were afraid that some one would push
+against me if I should attempt to cross the room."
+
+Mary was called away and she drew herself into her sofa corner; the two
+long rooms were crowded; bright colors were flashing before her eyes,
+the buzz and hum of merry talk filled her ears; a black silk in contrast
+with a gray or blue cashmere; a white necktie, a head with drooping
+curls, a low, fair forehead, a pair of square shoulders in broadcloth,
+an open mouth with fine teeth, sloping shoulders of gray silk, a slender
+waist of brown, a coat-sleeve with cuff and onyx cuff-button, a small
+hand with a diamond on the first finger, and dark marks of needle-pricks
+on the tip of the same finger, a pearl ear-ring in a red, homely
+ear;--Tessa's eyes saw them all, as well as the rounded chin, the fretful
+lip, the humorous lines at the corner of the eye, the manner that was
+frank and the manner that was intended to be, the lips that were
+speaking truth and the lips that were dissembling, the eyes that were
+contented and the eyes that were missing something--a word, perhaps, or a
+little attention, the eyes that brightened when some one approached, the
+eyes that dropped because some one was talking nonsense to some one
+else;--it was a rest to dwell upon these things and forget that Dr. Lake
+was suffering and Sue frightened.
+
+The gentlemen's faces she did not scan; it was fair, matured women like
+Mrs. Towne and Miss Jewett, and sprightly, sweet girls like Nan Gerard
+that she loved.
+
+Dr. Towne was hedged in a corner, behind a chair, conversing or seeming
+to converse with a gentleman; he was not a lady's man, he could not be
+himself in the presence of a third or fourth person, that is himself,
+socially; he could be himself professionally under the gaze of the
+multitude. Tessa smiled, thinking how uncomfortable he must be and how
+he must wish himself at home. Was he longing for his leisure at Old
+Place, where, as a society man, nothing was expected of him? Did he
+regret that he had come out "into the world"? Was the old life in his
+"den" with his book a dream that he would fain dream again? Perhaps that
+book that had loomed up before her as containing the wisdom of the ages
+was not such a grand affair after all? Who had ever thought so beside
+herself? Who had ever worshipped him as hero and saint beside herself?
+He was not looking like either, just now, for his face was flushed with
+the heat of the room and he was standing in a cramped position.
+
+"The bear is in his corner growling," said Nan Gerard bending over her.
+"How ungracious he can be when he wills. Sometimes he is positively rude
+to me."
+
+"Is there but one bear?"
+
+"You know well enough whom I mean. I expect that Mrs. Lake is mad enough
+because she couldn't come! How prettily she makes up; I have seen her
+when she really looked elegant. Homely girls have a way of looking
+prettier than the pretty ones. How grave you are! You don't like my
+nonsense, do you?"
+
+"I was thinking of poor Sue."
+
+"Oh yes; sad, isn't it? She'll be married in less than two years, if he
+dies, see if she isn't. I can't understand what her attraction is! She
+has a thousand little airs, perhaps that is it. I am to sleep with you
+to-night. May I?"
+
+"Thank you," said Tessa warmly, "I am very glad."
+
+"There, the bear is looking at us. He'll be over here; now I'll go over
+to the piano and see if I can make him follow me; I've had great fun
+doing that before now--_you_ don't do such things;" Nan shook her curls
+back with a pretty movement, threw a grave, alluring glance across the
+heads, and through the lights at the bear, then moved demurely away.
+
+The color touched his eyes; he looked amused and provoked; Tessa saw it
+while her eyes were busy with the lady in the chair near him; would he
+follow her? Mr. Hammerton returned.
+
+ "'Why, William, on that old gray stone,
+ Thus for the length of a half a day,
+ Why, William, sit you thus alone,
+ And dream the time away?'
+Only six ladies have found their way to you in the last half hour; with
+what sorcery do you draw them towards you? Tessa," speaking in a grave
+tone, "it's a beautiful thing for a woman to be attractive to women!"
+
+"It is a very happy thing."
+
+"Will you go to supper with me or do you prefer to sit on the old gray
+stone? You once liked to go with me to get rid of poor Harrison; is
+there any one that you wish to rid yourself of now? In these extremities
+I am at your service."
+
+"Are you taking me to rid yourself of a pertinacious maiden?"
+
+"No, the girls do not trouble me; I wish they would; if Naughty Nan
+would only run after me, now--there! there goes Towne; _he's_ after her,
+I know."
+
+Tessa enjoyed the roguish, demure eyes with which she made room for him
+at her side, and flashed back a congratulation in return for the little
+nod of triumph which Nan telegraphed to her.
+
+"You are in league, you two; I can see that with my short-sighted eyes;
+say, you and he were prime friends once, weren't you?"
+
+"We are now."
+
+"Humph! as they say in books! Why don't _you_ bring him with your eyes,
+then?"
+
+"What for?" she asked innocently.
+
+"Oh, because he has money; he is a moral and respectable young man,
+also."
+
+"You are something of a phrenologist; tell me what he is."
+
+"I will not. You will be thinking about him instead of about me."
+
+"I will be thinking of your deep knowledge of human nature, of your
+unrivalled penetration. Don't you know that a woman likes to hear one
+man talk about another?"
+
+"But you would not take my opinion, nevertheless."
+
+"True; I prefer my own unless yours confirm mine. Tell me, please, what
+is he!"
+
+"I have never given him five minutes' thought."
+
+"You know his face; look away from him and think."
+
+"He isn't a genius; but he has brains," replied Mr. Hammerton slowly;
+"he is very quiet, as quiet as any man you know; he is very gentle, his
+manner is perfection in a sick room--and nowhere else, I fancy--"
+
+"That's too bad."
+
+"Remember that I do not know him; I am speaking as a phrenologist; I
+have never been introduced to him. He does not understand human nature,
+he could live a year under the roof with you or me, particularly you,
+and not feel acquainted with you; he is shy of women, he never knows
+whether they are talking sense or nonsense; he is not a lady's man in
+the least, you may drop your handkerchief and stoop for it, he would
+never know it."
+
+"Neither would you."
+
+"He can keep a secret, that he can do to perfection. Tell him that you
+are in love with him and he will never, never tell! He is no musician.
+Naughty Nan may break her wrists and the keys of the piano, they will
+not unlock his ears or his heart; he is not fluent in conversation, he
+states a fact briefly, he answers a question exactly, he has no more to
+say; but he is a good listener, he does not forget; he is sympathetic,
+but he does not show it particularly, very few would think that he has
+any heart at all; I will wager that not two people in the world know
+him, understand, or can easily approach him; his temper is even, but
+when he _is_ angry 'beware the fury of a patient man!' He likes to see
+things orderly; he seldom raises his voice; he is exceedingly
+deliberate, and while he _is_ deliberating he would do or leave undone
+many things that he would afterward regret. He will rush into matrimony,
+or he will be in love for years before he knows it; his temperament is
+bilious. Now, Lady Blue, have I described a hero fit for a modern
+romance?"
+
+"No, only a commonplace man. All you have said is literally true."
+
+"He is a _good_ man," said Mr. Hammerton, emphatically. "I mean, good as
+men go, in these days. Naughty Nan is to be congratulated. Do you not
+think so?"
+
+"Perhaps," said Tessa doubtfully.
+
+"I believe that he is planning an attack on the citadel under my charge;
+I will move off, and give him an opportunity; I want to talk to the
+Professor."
+
+How many years ago was it since Felix had attended one of Mary
+Sherwood's little parties? Not more than three or four; she remembered
+how he used to hear her voice in its lightest speaking, how soon he
+became aware whenever she changed her position; how many times she had
+raised her eyes to meet his with their fixed, intense gaze; how his eyes
+would glitter and what a set look would stiffen his lips. And oh, how
+she had teased him in those days by refusing his eagerly proffered
+attentions and accepting Gus Hammerton in the matter-of-fact fashion in
+which he had suggested himself as ever at her service! In all the years
+she could remember these two, Gus, helpful and friendly, not in the
+least lover-like (she could as easily imagine the bell on the old
+Academy a lover), and Felix, poor Felix,--he would always be "poor Felix"
+now,--with his burning jealousy and intrusive affection.
+
+Was he asleep now, or awake and in pain? Was he lying alone thinking of
+what he might have been but for his own undisciplined eagerness, not
+daring to look into the future nights and days, that would be like
+these, only more helpless, more terrible?
+
+The talk and laughter ran on, her cheeks were hot, her head weary; she
+longed for a cool pillow and a dark chamber; some one was speaking, she
+lifted her eyes to reply.
+
+"Miss Tessa, my mother misses you every hour."
+
+"I am very sorry. There is room on my sofa, will you sit down?"
+
+"No. I was too hasty in our last conversation," bending so low that his
+breath touched her hair, "I come to ask you to reconsider; will you?"
+
+"Do you want such an answer as that would be?"
+
+"That is what I do want; then you will be sure, so sure that you will
+never change--"
+
+"I am not changeable."
+
+"I think you are; in six months I will come to you again, when shall it
+be?"
+
+"So long! If you care, the suspense will be very hard for you. I do not
+like to hurt you so."
+
+"I prefer the six months."
+
+"Well," speaking in her ordinary tone, "do not come to me, wherever I
+may be--we may both be in the next world by that time--"
+
+"We shall not be so much changed as to forget, shall we?"
+
+"Or not to care? I will write you a letter on the first day of June; I
+will mail it before ten o'clock."
+
+She laid her hand in his; he held it a moment, neither speaking.
+
+"Oh, you _are_ here," cried a voice.
+
+And she was talking the wildest nonsense in two minutes, with her eyes
+and cheeks aflame.
+
+At half past one the last guests had departed; Mary paused in a
+description of somebody's dress and asked Tessa if she would like to go
+to bed.
+
+"I have always wished to get near to you," said Nan, leading the way
+up-stairs. "I knew that there was a place in your heart for me to creep
+into."
+
+Tessa had a way of falling in love with girls; that night she fell in
+love with Nan Gerard; sitting on the carpet close to the register in a
+white skirt and crimson breakfast sacque, bending forward with her arms
+clasping her knees, she told Tessa the story of her life.
+
+Tessa was seated on the bed, still in the black silk she had worn, with
+a white shawl of Shetland wool thrown around her; she had taken the
+hair-pins out of the hair and the long braid was brought forward and
+laid across her bosom reaching far below her waist.
+
+She braided and unbraided the ends of it as Nan talked about last winter
+and Dr. Towne.
+
+"I like to talk to you; I can trust you, I wouldn't be afraid to tell
+you any thing; I can not trust Mary, she exaggerates fearfully. I don't
+mind telling _you_ that I came near falling in love with that handsome
+black bear; it was only skin deep however; I think that I have lost my
+attraction for him, whatever it was; I never do take falling in love
+hard; why, some girls take it as a matter of life and death; I think the
+reason must be that I can never love any one as I loved Robert. He was a
+saint. Yes, he was; you needn't look incredulous! I am not sentimental,
+I am practical and I intend to marry some day. People call me a flirt,
+perhaps I am, but my fun is very innocent and most delightful.
+
+"I know this: Ralph Towne would not like me if I were the only girl in
+existence; he wants some one who can think as well as talk; you wouldn't
+guess it to hear _him_ talk, would you?
+
+"Did you ever see a man who could not talk some kind of nonsense?
+There's Gus Hammerton, can't he talk splendid nonsense? Some of his
+nonsense is too deep for me.
+
+"Now, I've been trying an experiment with Dr. Towne, he is such an old
+bear that I thought it would do no harm; I made up my mind to see if it
+were possible for a marriageable woman to treat a marriageable man as if
+he were another woman! I don't know about it though," she added
+ruefully.
+
+"Has it failed?"
+
+"I think it has--rather. He does not understand--"
+
+"No man would understand."
+
+"I would understand if he would treat me as if I were Nathan instead of
+Nan; what grand, good friends we could be!"
+
+"I am glad that you can see that it has failed. How do you detect the
+failure?"
+
+"I have eyes. I know. His mother does not understand either. I think
+that I shall begin to be more--"
+
+"Maidenly?"
+
+Nan colored. "Was I unmaidenly? I have resolved never to ask him to take
+me anywhere again; I have made him no end of pretty things, I will do it
+no more. I would not like to have him lose his respect for me."
+
+"It usually costs something to try an experiment; I am glad that yours
+has cost you no more."
+
+"So am I, heartily glad. My next shall be of a different nature. Did you
+never try an experiment?"
+
+"Not of that kind; I tried an experiment once of believing every thing
+that somebody said, and acting upon it, as if it meant what it would
+have meant to me."
+
+"And you came to grief?"
+
+"I thought so, at first. Life _is_ a long story, isn't it?"
+
+"It's an interesting one to me. I kept a journal about _my_ experiment;
+I'll read it to you, shall I?"
+
+"I would like it ever so much if you like _me_ well enough to do it."
+
+"Of course I do," springing up. "And after I read it to you, you shall
+write the 'final' for me."
+
+In the top drawer of the bureau, she fumbled among neckties,
+pocket-handkerchiefs, and a collection of odds and ends, and at last,
+brought out a small, soft-covered, thin book with edges of gilt.
+
+"I named it 'Nan's Experiment,'" she said seriously, reseating herself
+near the register. "If you wish to listen in comfort, draw that rocker
+close to me, and take off your boots and heat your feet. If you are in a
+comfortable position, you will be in a more merciful frame of mind to
+judge my misdoings."
+
+Tessa obeyed, and leaned back in the cushioned chair, braiding and
+unbraiding her hair as she listened.
+
+The journal opened with an account of the journey by train to St. Louis.
+The description of her escort was enthusiastic and girlish in the
+extreme.
+
+"Is it nonsense?" the reader asked.
+
+"Even if it were, I haven't travelled so far away from those days that I
+can not understand."
+
+She read with more confidence.
+
+Ralph Towne would have been pleased with the intentness of Tessa's eyes
+and the softening of her lips.
+
+"You _dear_ Naughty Nan," cried Tessa, as the book fell from the
+reader's hands.
+
+"Then you do not blame me so much?"
+
+"It is only a mistake. Who does not make a mistake? It sounds rather
+more than skin-deep, though."
+
+"Oh, I had to throw in a little agony to make it interesting. I don't
+want him to think--"
+
+"What he thinks is the price you pay for your experiment."
+
+"Now write a last sentence, and I'll keep it forever; the names are all
+fictitious; no one can understand it; I'll find a pencil."
+
+Tessa held the pencil a moment. Nan on her knees watched her.
+
+"Something that I shall remember all my life--whenever I do a foolish
+thing--if I ever _do_ again."
+
+"Do you know Jean Ingelow?"
+
+"She is the one Professor Towne reads from?"
+
+"Yes. I will write some words of hers."
+
+The pencil wrote, and Nan, on her knees, read it word by word.
+
+ "I wait for the day when dear hearts shall discover,
+ While dear hands are laid on my head;
+ 'The child is a woman, the book may close over,
+ For all the lessons are said.'
+
+ "I wait for my story--the birds can not sing it,
+ Not one as he sits on the tree;
+ The bells can not ring it, but long years, O bring it!
+ Such as I wish it to be."
+
+"Thank you, very much. You write a fine hand. 'Such as I wish it to be?'
+No one's story is ever that--do you think it ever is?"
+
+"We will do our best to make ours such as we wish it to be."
+
+"Professor Towne is to have a private class in elocution after the
+holidays, and I'm going to join. He says that I will make a reader. I
+wish that you would join too."
+
+"I wish I might, but I shall not be at home; I am to spend a part of the
+winter away."
+
+"Oh, are you? Just as I have found you. But you promise to write to me?"
+
+"Yes, I will write to you; I beg of you not to try any experiments with
+me," she added laughing.
+
+"Don't be afraid," said Nan, seriously.
+
+"I wish you would make a friend of Miss Jewett; you will be glad of it
+as long as you live."
+
+"I am doing it; but I don't want _you_ to go away."
+
+"I shall come back some day, childie."
+
+Nan moved nearer, still on her knees, drew Tessa's cheek down to her
+lips,--her warm, saucy, loving lips,--saying, "My counsellor."
+
+Dr. Greyson's house stood opposite. Tessa went to the window to see if
+the light were still burning in Sue's chamber; Sue had forgotten to drop
+the curtains; the room was well-lighted; Sue was standing in the centre
+of the room holding something in her hand; Tessa saw Dr. Greyson enter
+and Sue moved away.
+
+She lay in bed wide awake watching the light.
+
+"Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another day."
+
+The tears dropped slowly on the pillow.
+
+
+
+
+XXI.--THROUGH.
+
+
+The snow-flakes were very large, they fell leisurely, melting almost as
+soon as they touched Tessa's flower bed; she was sitting at one of the
+sitting-room windows writing. She wrote, as it is said that all ladies
+do, upon her lap, her desk being a large blank book; her inkstand stood
+upon the window-sill; the cane-seated chair in front of her served
+several purposes, one of them being a foot-rest; upon the chair were
+piled "Roget's Thesaurus of English Words and Phrases," "Recreations of
+a Country Parson," a Bible, the current numbers of the _Living Age_ and
+_Harper's Magazine_, and George Macdonald's latest book.
+
+Her wrapper was in two shades of brown, the ruffle at her throat was
+fastened by a knot of blue velvet; in one brown pocket were a lead
+pencil, a letter from an editor, who had recently published a work upon
+which he had been busy twenty years and had thereby become so famous
+that the letter in her pocket was an event in her life, especially as it
+began: "My dear Miss Tessa, I like your letter and I like you."
+
+Her father was very proud of that letter.
+
+In the other brown pocket were a tangle of pink cord, a half yard of
+tatting, and a shuttle, and--what Tessa had read and reread--three full
+sheets of mercantile note from Miss Sarepta Towne.
+
+Dinah was seated at another window embroidering moss roses upon black
+velvet; the black velvet looked as if it might mean a slipper for a
+good-sized foot. There was a secret in the eyes that were intent upon
+the roses; the secret that was hidden in many pairs of eyes--brown, blue,
+hazel--in Dunellen in these days before Christmas.
+
+There was not even the hint of a secret in the eyes that were opening
+"Thesaurus" and looking for a synonym for _Information_.
+
+"Poor Tessa!" almost sighed happy Dinah, "she has to plod through
+manuscript and books, and doesn't know half how nice it is to make
+slippers."
+
+Poor Tessa closed her book just then and looked out into the falling
+snow.
+
+"Perhaps we shall hear that he's dead to-day," said Dinah, brushing a
+white thread off the velvet. "I have expected to hear that every day for
+a week."
+
+"But you said that he talked real bright last week."
+
+"So Sue said. I have not seen him. He knows that I have called, that is
+enough; I do not want to see him, I know that my face would distress
+him."
+
+"Poor fellow," said Dine, compassionately, "how he used to talk! The
+stories that he has told in this room. Oh, Tessa, I can't be thankful
+enough for every thing! To think that John should get such a good
+position in the Dunellen school! How things work around; he would not
+have had it but for Mr. Lewis Gesner! John and I are going there to
+spend the evening next week; Miss Gesner asked him to bring me. And oh,
+Tessa, _do_ you think that Gus takes it much to heart?"
+
+"If I did not know I should not think that he had any thing to take to
+heart!"
+
+"I suppose his heart bleeds in secret," said Dinah pensively. "Well, it
+isn't _my_ fault. You don't blame me."
+
+"I never blame any one."
+
+"Father and mother are very polite to John."
+
+"They are never rude to any one."
+
+"Say, Tessa, are you glad about me, or sorry?"
+
+"Am I not always glad about you?"
+
+"Well, about John?"
+
+"I like John; he is a good boy; but you can not expect me not to be
+disappointed about Gus!"
+
+"You think that Gus is every thing."
+
+"I think that he is _enough_."
+
+"Perhaps--perhaps--" but Dinah became confused and dared not finish.
+
+Tessa felt her thought. Perhaps--but what a queer perhaps; who could
+imagine it?
+
+The sharp Faber scribbled upon waste paper for some minutes; it
+scribbled dates and initials and names, and then "Such as I wish it to
+be."
+
+"There goes Dr. Towne," said Dinah.
+
+Tessa lifted her head in time for a bow. Then she scribbled, "A
+nightingale made a mistake."
+
+The letter in her pocket had closed thus: "You have the faculty of
+impressing truth in a very pleasant manner; your characters are
+spirited, your incidents savor of freshness, your style is rather abrupt
+however, it will be well to consider that."
+
+A busy life, busy in the things that she loved best, was her ideal of
+happiness.
+
+She scribbled--"Dec. 15. Dinah making roses. Miss Towne wishing for me.
+Is any one else? What do I wish? My naughty heart, be reasonable, be
+just, be sure, do not take a thing that you _want_, just because you
+want it."
+
+Dinah was wondering how Tessa's face _could_ look so peaceful when she
+was not engaged nor likely to be. Tessa was at peace, she was at rest
+concerning Dr. Lake. Before the storm was over, he would be glad that he
+had been born into a life upon the earth. In this hour--while Dine was
+working her roses and Tessa scribbling, while the snow-flakes were
+melting on Dr. Towne's overcoat and Nan Gerard was studying "The Songs
+of Seven" to read to the Professor that evening--Sue and her husband were
+alone in Sue's chamber.
+
+"Sue, I haven't heard you sing to-day."
+
+"How can I sing, Gerald, when you are so sick?"
+
+"Am I so sick? Do you know that I am?"
+
+"I think I ought to know; don't I see how father looks? and didn't Dr.
+Towne say that he would come and stay with you to-night? Are not people
+very sick when they have a consultation?"
+
+"Sometimes. What are you doing over there?"
+
+"It is time for your powder; you must sleep, they all say so. Will you
+try to go to sleep after you take this?"
+
+"Yes, if you will sing to me."
+
+He raised himself on his elbow and took the spoon from her hand. "You
+have been a good wife to me, Susan."
+
+"Of course I have. Isn't that what I promised. There, you spilled some;
+how weak your fingers are! you are like a baby. I don't like babies."
+
+"Don't say that," falling back upon the pillow. "I want you to be
+womanly, dear, and true women love babies."
+
+"They are such a bother."
+
+"So are husbands."
+
+"When you get well, you will not be a bother! Can't you talk any
+louder?"
+
+"Sit down close to me. How long have I been sick?"
+
+"Oh, I don't know! The nights and days are just alike."
+
+"I expect that you are worn out. We will go to sleep together. I wish we
+could."
+
+"You mustn't talk, you must go to sleep."
+
+"Say, Susan," catching her hand in both his, "are you glad you married
+me?"
+
+"Of course I am glad; that is, I shall be when you get well."
+
+"You wouldn't like a feeble husband dragging on you all your days, would
+you?"
+
+"No, I _wouldn't_. Who would? Would you like a feeble wife dragging on
+_you_ all your days?"
+
+"I would like _you_, sick or well."
+
+"I knew you would say that. You and Tessa and Dr. Towne are sentimental.
+What do you think he said to me last night. 'Be very gentle and careful
+with him, do not even speak loud.'"
+
+"He is very kind."
+
+"As if I _wouldn't_ be gentle!"
+
+"Bring your chair close and sing."
+
+"I don't feel like singing; this room is dark and hot, and I am sleepy."
+
+"Well, never mind."
+
+She pushed a chair close to the low bed and sat down; he took her hand
+and held it between his flushed hot hands. "God bless you forever, and
+ever, my darling wife!"
+
+"That's too solemn," said Sue in an awed voice; "don't say such things;
+I shall believe that you are going to die, if you do. Do go to sleep,
+that's a good boy."
+
+He laid his finger on his wrist keeping it there a full minute.
+
+"Are you stronger?" she asked eagerly. "Father will not say when I ask
+him and Dr. Towne only looked at me."
+
+He lifted her hand to his lips and smiled.
+
+"Now sing."
+
+"What shall I sing?"
+
+"Any thing. Every thing. 'Jesus, lover of my soul.' I always liked
+that."
+
+The clear, strong voice trembled nervously over the first words; she was
+afraid, but she did not know what she was afraid of; his eyelids
+drooped, he kept tight hold of her hand.
+
+She sang the hymn through and then asked what he would like next.
+
+"I was almost dreaming. Sue is a pretty name, so is Gerald; but I would
+not like my boy to be named Gerald. Theodore means the _gift of God_; I
+like that; Theodore or Theodora. If you ever name a child, will you
+remember that?"
+
+"I shall never name a child; I don't like children well enough to fuss
+over them. Now, what else?"
+
+"'Jerusalem the golden.'"
+
+"Oh, you don't want that! It's too solemn. I won't sing it, I'll sing
+something livelier. Don't you like 'Who are these in bright array?'"
+
+The eyelids drooped, he did not loosen his clasp, and she sang on; once,
+when she paused, he whispered, "Go on."
+
+The snow fell softly, melting on the window-sill, the wood fire burnt
+low, she drew her hand away and went to the stove to put in a stick of
+wood; he did not stir, his hands were still half-clasped; through the
+half-shut lids, his eyes shone dim and dark. She was very weary; she
+laid her head on the white counterpane near his hands and fell asleep.
+Dr. Greyson entered, stood a moment near the door and went out; Dr.
+Towne came to the threshold, his eyes filled as he stood, he closed the
+door and went down-stairs; he opened the front parlor door, thinking of
+the two as they stood there together such a little time since, and
+thinking of Tessa's face as he saw it that morning. "She will love him
+always if he leaves her now," he said to himself; "when she is old, she
+will look back and grieve for him. Tessa would, but Sue--there's no
+reckoning upon her. Why are not all women like Tessa and my mother?"
+
+He drove homeward, thinking many thoughts; of late, in the light of
+Tessa's words, he could behold himself as she beheld him; she would have
+been satisfied, could she have known the depth of his self-accusation;
+"No man but a fool could _be_ such a fool," he had said to himself more
+than once. "There is no chance that she will take me."
+
+Meanwhile Sue awoke from her heavy sleep; it was growing colder, the
+snow was falling and not melting, the room was quite dark.
+
+"I have been asleep," said Dr. Lake.
+
+"And now you are better," cried Sue, joyfully. "I knew that you were
+moping and had the blues."
+
+Through that night and the next day, Miss Jewett watched with Sue;
+before another morning broke, Sue--poor widowed Sue!--was taken in
+hysterics from the room.
+
+
+
+
+XXII.--SEVERAL OTHER THINGS.
+
+
+Tessa dropped the curtains, arranged the heavy crimson folds, and
+lighted the gas.
+
+"I shall do this many times in my imagination before spring," she said.
+"The curtains in my room, Dine says, are Turkey red, and my gas will be
+one tall sperm candle. Just about twilight you will feel my ghost
+stealing in, the curtains will fall, and invisible hands play among
+them, the jets will start into light, and then the perfume of a kiss
+will touch your forehead and hair. The perfume shall be that of a pansy
+or a day-lily, as you prefer."
+
+"I would rather have your material lips; I am not fond of ghostly
+visitants; I shall feel you always beside me; I shall not forget you
+even in my sleep."
+
+"You are too kind to me," said Tessa, after a moment, during which she
+had donned her brown felt hat and buttoned her long brown cloth cloak.
+The feeble old lady in the arm-chair flushed like a girl under the
+gratitude of Tessa's eyes; her eyes filled slowly as Tessa came to her
+and kissed her.
+
+"I am very old womanish about you; it must be because I am not strong; I
+would never let you go away out of my presence if I could hinder it."
+
+"I want to stay with you; I am never happier than I am in this room; but
+I must go; it is a promise; and I must go to-morrow. Uncle Knox will
+meet me at the train with a creaky old buggy and a half-blind white
+horse; then we shall drive six miles through a flat country with
+farm-houses scattered here and there to a cunning little village
+containing one church and one store and about forty dwellings. Our
+destination is a small house near the end of the principal street where
+live the most devoted old couple in the world! Aunt Theresa and Uncle
+Knox are a pair of lovers; it is beautiful to see them together; it is
+worth travelling across the continent; they never forget each other for
+an instant, and yet they make no parade of their affection; I am sure
+that they will both die upon the same day of the same disease. Their
+life is as lovely as a poem. I have often wondered how they attained it,
+if it were perfect before they were married or if it _grew_."
+
+She was standing under the chandelier buttoning her gloves, with her
+earnest face towards the lady in the arm-chair.
+
+"It _grew_," said a voice behind her. Dr. Towne had entered unperceived
+by either. "Is that all?"
+
+"Isn't that enough?" she asked slightly flushing.
+
+"Yes, I think that it is enough; but I know that it was born and not
+made. It did not become perfect in a year and a day. See if your aunt
+hasn't had an experience that she will not tell you."
+
+"And my uncle?" she asked saucily.
+
+"Men do not parade their experiences."
+
+"Providing they have any to parade," she replied lightly. "I'm afraid
+that I don't believe in men's experiences."
+
+"Don't say that, my dear," said Mrs. Towne anxiously.
+
+"I will not," Tessa answered, suddenly sobered, "not until I forget Dr.
+Lake."
+
+"Am I to have the mournful pleasure of taking you home, Miss Tessa? My
+carriage is at the door."
+
+"I have tried to persuade her to stay all the evening," said Mrs. Towne.
+
+"I have an engagement. My encyclopedia is coming to-night to talk over
+to me something that I have been writing."
+
+"Is he your critic?" inquired Dr. Towne.
+
+"Yes, and an excellent one, too. Don't you know that he knows every
+thing?"
+
+"Then perhaps he can tell me something that I want to know. Would it be
+safe to ask him?"
+
+"If it is to be found in a book he can tell you," said Tessa seriously.
+
+"It is not to be found in any poem that was ever written or in any song
+that was ever sung."
+
+"Then it remains to be written?"
+
+"Yes; don't you want to write it?"
+
+"I must learn it by heart first; I can not write what I have not
+learned."
+
+"Ralph, you shall not tease her," interrupted his mother, "she shall not
+do any thing that she does not please."
+
+"Not even go into the country for three months in winter," he said.
+
+"What will Sue do without you, Tessa?" asked Mrs. Towne.
+
+"I have been with her five days; she cried and clung to me. I do not
+want to leave her, there are so many reasons for me to stay and so few
+for me to go. Miss Gesner came this afternoon and promised to stay all
+night with her. She is a little afraid of Miss Gesner; with Miss Jewett
+and me, she cried and talked about him continually; the poor girl is
+overwhelmed."
+
+"She will be overwhelmed again by and by," said Dr. Towne.
+
+"Ralph! I never heard you say any thing so harsh of any one before."
+
+"Is truth harsh?" he asked.
+
+"If it be mild to-morrow, I will go to Sue; I will take her down to Old
+Place for a month; she always throve there."
+
+"She will be dancing and singing in a month," returned Dr. Towne.
+
+"Well, let her!"
+
+"But you must not be troubled, mother. I shall make her promise not to
+talk to you and go into hysterics."
+
+"My son, she is a widow."
+
+"'And desolate,'" he quoted.
+
+"Tessa, will you write to me every week, child?"
+
+"Every week," promised Tessa, as she was drawn into the motherly arms
+and kissed again and again.
+
+Her own mother would not kiss her like that. Was it her mother's fault
+or her own?
+
+As soon as they were seated in the carriage and the robe tucked in
+around her, her companion asked, "Shall we drive around the square? The
+sun is hardly set and the air is as warm as autumn."
+
+"Yes," she answered almost under her breath. In a moment she spoke
+hurriedly, "Does your mother think--does she know--"
+
+"She is a woman," he answered abruptly.
+
+"I wish--oh, I wish--" she hesitated, then added--"that she would not love
+me so much."
+
+"It _is_ queer," he said gravely.
+
+They drove in silence through the town and turned into the "mountain
+road"; after half a mile, they were in the country with their faces
+towards the glimmer of light that the sunset had left.
+
+"Miss Tessa, my mother believes in me."
+
+"I know that."
+
+"You do not weigh my words sufficiently. They do not mean enough to
+you."
+
+"Is that so very strange?"
+
+"Yes, it is strange when I tell you that I know I was a fool! When I
+tell you that I have repented in dust and ashes. I did not understand
+you, nor myself, a year ago--I am dull about understanding people. I
+think that I am not quick about any thing; I can not make a quick reply;
+I have labored at my studies; I was not brilliant in school or college;
+I am very slow, but I am very _sure_. If you had been as slow as I, our
+friendship would never have had its break; you were too quick for me;
+but you understood me long before I understood myself; I did not
+understand myself until I was withdrawn from you. Do you believe that?"
+
+"Yes, I believe it. But you should have waited until you _did_
+understand."
+
+"It is rather tough work for a man to confess himself a fool."
+
+Tessa said nothing.
+
+"I do not ask to be excused, I ask to be forgiven; to be borne with.
+Will you be patient with me?"
+
+"I do not know how to be patient. I am too quick. I have been very
+bitter and unjust towards you; I judged you as if you were as quick as I
+am; I have even wished you dead; it does not do for us to be in a class
+together."
+
+"Not in the short run; we haven't tried the long run yet, and you are
+afraid to do that?"
+
+"I suppose I am. I am afraid of something; I think that I am afraid of
+myself."
+
+"If you are not afraid of me, I do not care what you are afraid of."
+
+"I am not afraid of you--now."
+
+"Then if you do--reject me, it is because you are not satisfied with your
+heart toward me?"
+
+"Yes, that will be the reason," she said slowly.
+
+"And none other?"
+
+"There is no reason in yourself; now that you have seen how you were
+wrong; the reason will all be in myself."
+
+"Are you coming any nearer to an understanding with yourself?" he asked
+quietly.
+
+He had spoken in this same tone to a patient, a little child, not two
+hours since.
+
+The tone touched her more deeply than the words.
+
+"I do not know. I am trying not to reason. I have worn myself out with
+reasoning. You are very still, but I know that this time is terrible to
+you; as terrible as last year was to me! Believe me, I am not lightly
+keeping you in suspense. Truly I can not decide. There is some
+hindrance; I do not know what it is."
+
+"I do not wish to hurry you; you shall have a year to decide if you
+prefer. It is very sudden to you; you need time and quiet to recover
+from the shock; you are very much shaken. You are not as strong as you
+were two years ago. The strain has been too great for you; when you have
+decided once for all time and all eternity, your eyes will look as they
+looked two years ago. All I ask you is be _sure_ of _yourself_! I
+promise not to trouble you for a year; I am sorry to be troubling you
+now. Are you very unhappy?"
+
+She was trembling and almost crying.
+
+"You shall not answer me, or think of answering me until you are ready;
+I deserve to suffer; I do not fear the issue of your self-analysis; when
+you have recovered from the shock and can _feel_ that you have forgiven
+me, then you will know whether you love me, whether you trust me. Will
+you write to me?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+He laughed in spite of his vexation; she resented the laugh; he was
+altogether too sure of his power.
+
+"You must not be so sure," she began.
+
+"I shall be just as sure as--_you_ please."
+
+"You think that I am very perplexing."
+
+"You are full of freaks and whims; you are a Mystic. Dr. Lake truly
+named you. I used to think you a bundle of impulses, and now I find you
+sternly adhering to a principle. If your whim be founded on principle,
+and I verily believe it is, I honor you even when I am laughing at you."
+
+"Don't laugh at me; I am too miserable to bear that. Be patient with me
+as if I were ill."
+
+"You are not strong enough to go from home. If you do not feel well,
+will you write for me to come and bring you home?"
+
+"I am well enough."
+
+"Promise me, please."
+
+"I can not promise," she answered decidedly.
+
+They were neither of them in a mood for further talk; she felt more at
+rest than she had felt for two years; there was nothing to think of,
+nothing to be hurried about; she had a whole year to be happy in, and
+then--she would be happy then, too. As for him--she could not see his
+face, for they had turned into the cross-road, thickly wooded, that
+opened into the clearing before the gates of Old Place.
+
+He spoke to his horse in his usual tone, "Gently, Charlie." He stooped
+to wrap the robe more closely about her feet; as he raised himself, she
+slipped her ungloved hand into his. "Don't be troubled about me, I will
+not be troubled; I will not reason; but don't be sure; perhaps when the
+year is over I shall not be satisfied."
+
+"Then you must take another year."
+
+"You will not be so patient with me another year; I shall not take
+another year."
+
+"Tessa, you are a goose; but you are a darling, nevertheless."
+
+"You do not understand me," she said, withdrawing her hand.
+
+"I am too humble to expect ever to do that. You have never seen our
+home. Is it too late to go over the place to-night?"
+
+"I will go with your mother some time; she has described every room to
+me."
+
+"Who is that fellow that you were engaged to?"
+
+"He is not a fellow."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"Felix Harrison."
+
+"Ah!" Then after a pause, "Tell me the whole story."
+
+The whole story was not long; she began with his school-boy love,
+speaking in short sentences, words and tone becoming more intense as she
+went on
+
+"I did not mean to be so wrong; but I was so unhappy and he cared--"
+
+"What shall I do without you all winter?"
+
+"What have you done without me every winter?" she asked merrily.
+
+With an effort she drew herself away from the arm that would have
+encircled her. Morbidly fearful of making another mistake, she would not
+answer his words or his tone.
+
+"The witches get into me at night," she said, soberly, "and I say things
+that I may regret in the sunlight."
+
+"It is not like you to regret speaking truth. Remember, I do not exact
+any promise from you; but if the time ever come that you know you love
+me, I want you to tell me so."
+
+"I will."
+
+He drove up under the maple trees, before the low iron fence, as he had
+done on the last night of the old year; another old year was almost
+ended; they stood holding each other's hand, neither caring to speak.
+
+Ralph Towne would not have been himself, if he had not bent and kissed
+her lips; and she would not have been herself, had she not received it
+gravely and gladly. After that it was not easy to go in among the
+talkers and the lights; she stood longer than a moment on the piazza,
+schooling herself to bear scrutiny, to answer with unconcern; still she
+felt dizzy and answered the first questions rather at random.
+
+"Going around in the dark has set your wits to wool-gathering," said her
+mother.
+
+"We waited tea," said Dinah.
+
+"You did not come alone, daughter?" asked her father.
+
+"No, sir. Dr. Towne brought me."
+
+"We are very hungry," said Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"We will talk over the book before chess, Gus, if you please. I have
+some packing to do, and I am very tired."
+
+"How is Sue?" inquired her mother.
+
+"Very well."
+
+"Is she taking it hard?"
+
+"Perhaps. I do not know what hard is."
+
+"Is her mourning all ready?"
+
+"Yes'm."
+
+"A young widow is a beautiful sight," observed Mrs. Wadsworth
+pathetically.
+
+"Probably some one will think so," said Mr. Hammerton, speaking quickly
+to save Tessa from replying.
+
+"Take off your things, Tessa," said Dinah. "I want my supper."
+
+"It's _his_ night, isn't it?" asked Mr. Hammerton, teasingly; Dinah
+colored, looked confused, and ran down-stairs to ring the tea-bell.
+
+The door-bell clanged sharply through the house as they were rising from
+the table. "I was young myself once," remarked Mr. Hammerton.
+
+"I don't believe it," retorted Dinah, putting her hands instinctively up
+to her hair.
+
+"You'll do, run along," laughed her father. "Oh, how old I feel to see
+my little girls becoming women."
+
+"I should think Tessa would feel old," replied Mrs. Wadsworth,
+significantly.
+
+"I do," said Tessa, rising. "Where is your criticism, Mr. Critic; I have
+some packing to do to-night, so you may cut me to pieces before chess."
+
+"No matter about chess," said Mr. Wadsworth.
+
+"Yes, it is; I will not be selfish."
+
+"Then run up and talk over your bookish talk, mother and I will come up
+presently."
+
+The sitting-room was cozy and home-like, even after the luxury of Mrs.
+Towne's handsome apartment. "I don't want to go away," sighed Tessa,
+dropping into a chair near the round black-and-green covered table. "Why
+can't people stay at home always?"
+
+"Why indeed?" Mr. Hammerton moved a chair to her side and seating
+himself carelessly threw an arm over the back of her chair.
+
+How many evenings they had read and studied in this fashion, with Dine
+on a low stool, her curly head in her sister's lap.
+
+"They will never come again."
+
+"What?" asked Tessa opening the long, yellow envelope he had taken from
+his pocket.
+
+"The old days when you and Dine and I will not want any one else."
+
+"True; Dine has left us already."
+
+"But you and I are content without her!"
+
+"Are we? I am not sure! Gus your penmanship is perfect; when I am rich,
+you shall copy my books."
+
+"How rich?"
+
+"Oh, rich enough to give you all you would ask," she answered
+thoughtlessly. "I expect that I shall have to undergo a process as
+trying as vivisection; but I will not flinch; it is good for me."
+
+"Don't read it now; save it for the solitude of the country."
+
+"No, I am anxious to see it; you can be setting up the chess-men; I
+don't want to take you away from father."
+
+With the color rising in his cheeks, he arose and moved the chess-board
+nearer; standing before her, he began slowly to arrange the pieces. The
+three large sheets were closely written; she read slowly, once breaking
+into a laugh and then knitting her brows and drawing her lips together.
+
+"Are you not pleased? Am I not just?"
+
+"A critic is not a fault-finder, necessarily; you are very plain. I will
+consider each sentence by itself in my solitude; you are a great help to
+me, Gus. I thank you very much. You have been a help to me all my life."
+
+"I have tried to be," he answered, taking up a castle and turning it in
+his fingers.
+
+"I will rewrite my book, remembering all your suggestions."
+
+"You remember that Tennyson rewrote 'Dora' four hundred and forty-five
+times, that Victor Hugo declared that his six hundredth copy of
+'Thanatopsis' was his best, and that George Sand was heard to say with
+tears in her eyes that she wished she had rewritten 'Adam Bede' just
+once more and you have read that Tom Brown Hughes--"
+
+"Go away with your nonsense! I told Dr. Towne that you were my critic
+and that you knew every thing."
+
+"Do you tell him every thing?" he asked, letting the castle fall upon
+the carpet.
+
+"That isn't every thing."
+
+"Will you play a game with me?"
+
+"No, thank you. I am too tired for any thing so tiresome."
+
+"You are ungrateful. Did I not teach you to play?"
+
+"You did not teach me to play when I am tired."
+
+"You have promised to write to me, haven't you?" he asked.
+
+"No, I haven't! If you only knew how many I _have_ promised; and Aunt
+Theresa has a basket quilt cut out for me to make, sixty-four blocks!
+How can you have the heart to suggest any thing beside?"
+
+"How many persons have you refused to write to?"
+
+"I just refused one."
+
+"Am I the only one you have refused?"
+
+"Oh, no," slipping the folded sheets into the envelope, "there is Mr.
+Gesner and Dr. Greyson and Professor Towne and--"
+
+"Dr. Towne?" His uneasy fingers scattered several pawns over the
+black-and-green covering.
+
+"Yes, and Dr. Towne! And he was very good about it, he only laughed."
+
+"Lady Blue, speak the truth."
+
+"About whom?"
+
+"The latter. I am not concerned about the others."
+
+"I told you the truth and you do not believe me. Don't you know that the
+truth is always funnier than a fabrication?"
+
+"If you ask me, perhaps I will come down and stay over a Sunday with
+you."
+
+"Will you? Oh, I wish you would! I expect to be homesick. Uncle Knox
+will be delighted to have you to talk to."
+
+"I do not think that I shall travel fifty miles on a cold night to talk
+to _him_."
+
+"Then I am sure that you will not to talk to me."
+
+"You do not know what I would do for you."
+
+"Yes, I do. Any thing short of martyrdom. Don't you want to go in and
+see John Woodstock? He is a pretty boy. There come father and mother.
+You will excuse me if I do not make my appearance again to-night; you
+know I have been with Sue and I am so tired."
+
+"And you will not write to me?"
+
+"What for? You may read Dine's letters."
+
+"Tell me true, Tessa," he answered catching both her hands, "_did_ you
+refuse to write to Dr. Towne?"
+
+"Yes, I did."
+
+"Why, may I ask?"
+
+"For the same reason that I refuse to write to you--no, that is not quite
+true--" she added, "but it is because I don't want to write to either of
+you."
+
+"Have all these years given me the right to ask you a question?"
+
+He still held both hands.
+
+She answered seriously, "Yes. You are all the big brother I have."
+
+"Then I will not ask it," dropping her hands and turning away.
+
+"Say good-by, then."
+
+"Good-by."
+
+"I have not said any thing to displease you, have I?"
+
+"You will not write to me?"
+
+"No, I can't. I would if I could. I will tell you--then you will
+understand and not care--somebody--"
+
+"What right has somebody--"
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth entered laughing, Mr. Wadsworth was close behind.
+
+"Excuse me, sir; I can't stay to play to-night. Good night, Lady Blue. A
+pleasant visit and safe return."
+
+An hour later Tessa was kneeling on the carpet before her open trunk
+squeezing a roll of pencilled manuscript into a corner.
+
+A tap at the door was followed by a voice, "Daughter, may I come in?"
+
+"If you will not mind the confusion."
+
+He closed the door and seated himself on a chair near the end of the
+trunk.
+
+"There is a confusion somewhere that I _do_ mind," he began nervously.
+
+She looked up in surprise. "Why, father, is there something that you
+don't like? Don't you like it about Dine?"
+
+"Daughter, if you are so blind that you will not see, I must tell you. I
+like it well enough about Dine, but I do not like it about _you_?"
+
+Was it about Dr. Towne? How could he object to him? For he could not be
+aware of _her_ objection.
+
+"I am afraid that you are teasing Gus rather too much."
+
+"Teasing Gus! I never really teased him in my life. We have never
+quarrelled even once."
+
+"I thought that women were quick about such things, but you are as blind
+as a bat."
+
+"Such things?" She was making room for a glove box, a pretty one of
+Russia leather that Gus had given her. "He never cares for what I say!"
+
+"How do you know that?"
+
+"How do I know?" she repeated in perplexity, making space in a corner
+while she considered her reply. "Don't _you_ know why he can not be
+teased by what I say and do?"
+
+"I know this--he has asked me if he may marry you some day."
+
+"_Me!_ You mean Dine. You can't mean me. I know it is Dine."
+
+"Oh, child," laughing heartily, "why should I mean Dine? Why should it
+not be you?"
+
+"It must be Dine," she said positively. "Didn't he say Dine?"
+
+"Am I in my dotage?"
+
+"Couldn't you misunderstand?"
+
+"No, I could not. What is the matter with you, to-night? You act as if
+you were bewildered."
+
+"So I am."
+
+"One evening, on the piazza, was it in May or June? I was not well and I
+said so to him; and he answered by telling me that he had always thought
+of you, that he had grown up hoping to marry you. Dine! Am I blind? Have
+I been blind these ten years?"
+
+"Didn't he say any thing about Dine?"
+
+"We spoke of her, of course. I would not tell you, but I see how you are
+playing with him; he will not intrude himself. O, Tessa, for a bright
+girl, you are very stupid."
+
+"I am not bright; I am stupid."
+
+"This sisterly love is all very well, but a man can not bear to have it
+carried too far. He is pure gold, daughter; he is worthy of a princess.
+Now don't worry; you haven't done any harm. Go to bed and go to sleep;
+you have had too much worry this last week."
+
+"I know it must be Dine."
+
+"If you did not look half sick, I would be angry with you. I thought
+women were quick witted."
+
+"I suppose some are," she said slowly. "He will never ask me, never."
+
+"Why not?" he asked sharply.
+
+"Because--because--"
+
+"Because you haven't thought of it. If you do not like any one--and I
+don't see how you can--you don't, do you?"
+
+"I don't--know."
+
+"There! There, dear, don't cry! Go to sleep and forget it."
+
+"I thought it was Dine. I have always thought that it was Dine."
+
+"Well, good night. Don't throw away the best man in the world. I have
+known him ever since he wore dresses, and he is worthy--even of you. Put
+out your light and go to sleep. Don't give him a heartache."
+
+"Oh, I won't, I won't--if I can help it!"
+
+"Don't have any whims. There, child, don't cry! Kiss me and go to
+sleep."
+
+She did not cry; she was stunned and bewildered; it was too dreadful to
+be true; even if she did love Ralph Towne she would not love him if it
+would make unhappy this friend and helper of all her life! This new
+friend should not come between them to make him miserable. Even if the
+old dream about Ralph Towne _could_ come true, she would not accept his
+love at the cost of Gus Hammerton's happiness. Was he not her right arm?
+Was he not her right eye? She had never missed him because he had always
+lived in her life; he was as much a part of her home as her father and
+Dine; she would give up any thing rather than hurt him. Had she not
+suffered with him when she thought that he was unhappy about Dine? She
+had loved him so much that she had never thought of loving him; she had
+been so proud that he had loved Dine. Was it his influence that had kept
+her from loving Felix Harrison? Was he the hindrance that was coming
+between her and Dr. Towne? Was she troubled because she could not honor
+and trust Dr. Towne as she had unconsciously honored and trusted this
+old, old friend? If the illusion about Ralph Towne had never been
+dispelled, she would not have discovered that Gus Hammerton was "pure
+gold" as her father had said. They were both miserable to-night because
+of her--and she had permitted one of them to kiss her. Ralph Towne had
+left her once to fight out her battle alone--he had not been the shadow
+of a rock in her weary land--she could think of this now away from the
+fascination of his presence; but, present or absent, there was no doubt,
+no reasoning about the old friend; he had been tried, he was steadfast
+and true. True, she had forgiven Ralph Towne; but her forgiveness had
+not wrought any change in him. He was the Ralph Towne of a year ago,
+with this difference that now he loved her. Had his love for her wrought
+any change in him? Was he not himself? Would he not always be himself?
+Was she satisfied with him if she could feel the need of change?
+
+A year ago would she have reasoned thus? Where love is, is there need of
+reasoning to prove its existence, its depth or its power of continuance?
+She knew that she loved God; she knew that she loved her father. If she
+loved Ralph Towne, why did she not know that, also?
+
+Why must she reason? Why might she not _know_? She did not know that she
+loved him. Did she know that she did _not_ love him? Wearied even to
+exhaustion, her head drooped until it touched the soft pile in the open
+trunk; there were no tears, not a sound moved her lips; she was very
+glad that she was going away.
+
+If she might tell Gus, would he not talk it over to her and make it
+plain? It would not be the first matter in which he had taught her to
+discern between the wrong and the right. Was there a wrong and a right
+in this choosing?
+
+The large tears gathered and fell.
+
+Ralph Towne could not help her; he would say caressingly, "Love me, and
+end the matter." In her extremity he was not a helper. Would he ever be
+in any extremity of hers?
+
+The tears fell for very weariness and bewilderment. What beside was
+there to shed tears about? She was so weary that she had forgotten.
+
+A laugh in the hall below; the sound of a scuffle, another laugh, and
+the closing of the street door.
+
+Those two children!
+
+Dinah burst into the room, still laughing. "Why, Tessa! All through! You
+look as if you wanted to pack yourself up, too," she cried in a breezy
+voice. "The candle is almost burnt down."
+
+"No matter. Don't get another."
+
+"Your voice sounds as if you were sick. Mother has been expecting you to
+be too sick to go."
+
+"I shall not be sick," rising, and dropping the lid of her trunk. "Tell
+me about the night you overheard Gus talking to father on the piazza."
+
+"I did tell you, didn't I? He did not mind because John came tonight;
+didn't you hear him tease me? About that night? Oh, I was asleep, and
+they were on the piazza; of course I don't know how long they had been
+talking, nor what suggested it, but I heard him say,--really I've
+forgotten just what, it was so long ago,--but father said that he was so
+glad and happy about it, or it meant that. I suppose I may have missed
+some of it. Poor old Gus said that he knew I did not care for any one
+else. Isn't it touching? Poor fellow! And I didn't then. I never should
+if I hadn't gone away and found John. Lucky for me, wasn't it? Gus never
+looked at me as he did at you tonight, anyway; I guess he's
+transferring."
+
+Long after midnight Tessa fell asleep; her last thought shaping itself
+thus:
+
+"I can not reason myself into loving or not loving, any more than I can
+reason the sun into shining or not shining."
+
+On her way to the train the next morning, she mailed a letter addressed--
+
+ _"Ralph Towne, M. D.,
+ City."_
+
+Her tender, passionate, truth-loving, bewildered heart had poured itself
+out in these words:
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"I am so afraid of leading you to think something that is not true;
+something that I may have to contradict in the future. When I am with
+you, I forget every thing but you; when I am alone, my heart rises up
+and warns me that I may be making another mistake, that I only _think_ I
+love you because I want to so much, and that I should only worry you
+with my caprices and doubts if I should marry you. You have been very
+patient with me, but you might lose your patience if I should try it too
+far. I _will_ not marry you until I am _sure_; I must know of a
+certainty that I love you with the love that hopes, endures, that can
+suffer long and still is kind. You do not know me, I am hard and proud;
+when I went down into the Valley of Humiliation because of believing
+that you loved me when you did not, I was not gentle and sweet and
+forgiving--I was hard and bitter; I hated you almost as much as I had
+loved you. Now I must think it all through and live through all those
+days, the days when I loved you and the days when I hated you, before I
+can understand myself. I could marry you and we could live a life of
+surface peace and satisfaction, and you might be satisfied in me and
+with me; but if _I_ felt the need of loving you more than I did love
+you, my life would be bondage. If the pride and hardness and
+unforgivingness may be taken away and I _may_ love you and believe in
+you as I did that day that you brought me the English violets, I shall
+be as happy--no, a thousand times happier than I was then. But you must
+not hope for that; it is not _natural_; it may be that of grace such
+changes are wrought, but grace is long in working in proud hearts. You
+are not bound to me by any word that you have spoken; find some one
+gentle and loving who will love you for what you are and for what you
+will be."
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.--WHAT SHE MEANT.
+
+
+In the weeks that followed, Tessa learned to the full the meaning of
+_homesickness_. No kindness could have exceeded the kindness that she
+hourly received from uncle and aunt and from the inmates of the cottage
+over the way; still every night, or rather early every morning, she fell
+asleep with tears upon her cheeks; she longed for her father, her
+mother, for Dine and Gus, for Miss Jewett, for Nan Gerard, and even
+poor, grief-stricken Sue; for Mrs. Towne's dear face and dear hands she
+longed inexpressibly, and she longed with a longing to which she would
+give no sympathy for another presence, an unobtrusive presence that
+would not push its way, a presence with the aroma of humility,
+gentleness, and a shy love that persisted with a persistence that
+neither the darkness of night nor the light of day could dispel.
+
+Lying alone in the darkness in the strange, low room, with a fading glow
+upon the hearth that lent an air of unreality to the old-fashioned
+furniture, she congratulated herself upon having been brave and true, of
+having withheld from her lips a draught for which she had so long and so
+despairingly thirsted; she had been so brave and true that she must
+needs be strong, wherefore then was she so weak? Sometimes for hours she
+would lie in perfect quiet thinking of Mr. Hammerton; but thinking of
+him as calmly as she thought about her father. There was no intensity in
+her love for him, no thrill, save that of gratitude for his years of
+brotherly watchfulness; she would have been proud of him had he married
+Dine; his friendship was a distinction that she had worn for years as
+her rarest ornament; he was her intellect, as her father was her
+conscience, but to give up all the others for him, to love him above
+father, mother, sister--to give up forever the hope of loving Ralph Towne
+some day--she shuddered and covered her face with her hands there alone
+in the dark. Cheery enough she was through the days, sewing for Aunt
+Theresa and falling into her happiest talk of books and people, thoughts
+and things, reading aloud to Uncle Knox, and every evening reading aloud
+the pages of manuscript that she had written that day, and every
+afternoon, laying aside work or writing, to run across to the cottage
+for a couple of hours with Miss Sarepta.
+
+Miss Sarepta at her window in her wheelchair watched all day the black,
+brown, or blue figure at her writing or sewing, and when the hour came,
+saw the pencils dropped into the box, the leaves of manuscript gathered,
+the figure rise and toss out its arms with a weary motion; then, in a
+few moments the figure with a bright shawl over its head would run down
+the path, stand a moment at the gate to look up and down and all around,
+and then, with the air of a child out of school, run across the street
+and sometimes around the garden before she brought her bright face into
+the watcher's cosy, little world.
+
+Miss Sarepta's mother described Tessa as "bright, wide awake, and ready
+for the next thing."
+
+Miss Sarepta told Tessa that while knowing that good things were laid up
+for her, she had no thought that such a good thing as Tessa Wadsworth
+was laid up for this winter's enjoyment and employment.
+
+It may be that the strain of the day's living added to the feverishness
+of the night's yearnings; for when darkness fell and the wind sounded in
+the sitting-room chimney, her heart sank, her hands grew cold, her
+throat ached with repressed tears, and when she could no longer bear it,
+the daily paper having been read aloud and a letter or two written, she
+would take her candle and bid the old people as cheery a good night as
+her lips could utter and hasten up-stairs to her fire on the hearth to
+reperuse her letters and to dream waking dreams of what might be, and
+when the fire burned low to lie awake in the darkness, till, spent in
+flesh and in spirit, she would fall asleep.
+
+At the beginning of the third week, she took herself to hand; with a
+figurative and merciless gripe upon each shoulder she thus addressed
+herself: "Now, Tessa Wadsworth, you and I have had enough of this; we
+have had enough of freaks and whims for one lifetime; you are to behave
+and go to sleep."
+
+Behaving and going to sleep took until midnight with the first attempt,
+and she dreamed of Dr. Lake and awoke crying. Was Sue crying, too? Sue
+had loved her husband, his influence would color all her life, she might
+yet become her ideal of a woman; _womanly_. Sue's hand had been in his
+life; had not his hand with a firmer grasp tightened around her life?
+
+Tessa did not forget to be metaphysical even at midnight with the tears
+of a dream on her eyelashes.
+
+Was every one she loved asleep, or had some one dreamed of her and awoke
+to think of her?
+
+"God bless every one I love," she murmured, "and every one who loves
+me."
+
+The next night by sheer force of will she was asleep before the clock
+struck eleven, and did not dream of home or once awake until Hilda, the
+Swedish servant, passed her door at dawn.
+
+Her letters through this time were radiant, of course. Mrs. Towne only,
+with her perfect understanding of Tessa, detected the homesickness, or
+heartsickness. Tessa was wading in deep waters; she did not need her,
+else she would have come to her. She had learned that it was her
+characteristic to fight out her battles alone.
+
+Had Ralph any thing to do with this? He had suddenly grown graver, not
+more silent; in the morning his eyes would have a sleepless look, the
+sunshine seemed utterly gone from them; once he said, apropos of
+nothing, after a long fit of abstraction: "It is right for a man to pay
+for being a fool and a knave, but it comes terribly hard."
+
+"I suppose it must," she had replied, "until he learns how God
+forgives."
+
+In her next letter to Tessa, Mrs. Towne had written, "Do you know how
+God forgives?" and Tessa had replied, "You and I seem to be thinking the
+same thought nowadays, and nowanights, for last night it came to me that
+loving _enough_ to forgive is the love that makes Him so happy."
+
+This letter was the only one of all written that winter that Mrs. Towne
+showed to her son. It was not returned to her. Months afterward he
+showed it to Tessa, saying that that thought was more to him than all
+the sermons to which he had ever listened. "Because you didn't know how
+to listen," she answered saucily, adding in a reverent tone, "I did not
+understand it until I _lived_ it."
+
+The letter had been written with burning cheeks; if he might read it,
+she would be glad; it would reveal something that she did not dare tell
+him herself; but she had no hope that he would see it.
+
+"Tessa is not so bright as she was," observed Miss Sarepta's mother,
+"she's more settled down; I guess that she has found out what she means;
+it takes a deal of time for young women to do that."
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.--SHUT IN.
+
+
+It was a trial to Sarepta Towne that the sun did not rise and set in the
+west, for in that case her bay window would have been perfect.
+
+Dinah had named this window "summer time:" on each side ivy was climbing
+in profusion; on the right side stood a fuchsia six feet in height;
+opposite this an oleander was bursting into bloom; a rose geranium and a
+pot of sweet clover were placed on brackets and were Tessa's special
+favorites; one hanging basket from which trailed Wandering Jew was
+filled with oxalis in bloom, another was but a mass of graceful and
+shining greens.
+
+In the centre of the window on a low table stood a Ward's case; into
+this Dinah had never grown tired of looking; Professor Towne had
+constructed it on his last visit at home, and one of the pleasures of it
+to Miss Sarepta had consisted in the talks they had while planning it
+together. Among its ferns, mosses, berries, and trailing arbutus they
+had formed a grotto of shells and bits of rocks; the floor was bits of
+looking-glass; tufts of eye-bright were mingled with the mosses and were
+now in bloom, and Miss Sarepta was sure that the trailing arbutus would
+flower before Tessa could bring it home to her from the woods.
+
+"This room is full of Philip and Cousin Ralph," Sarepta had said; "his
+picture is but one of the things in it and in this house to remind me of
+Cousin Ralph."
+
+"Sarepta breathes Philip," her mother replied.
+
+"We are twin spirits like Blaise and Jacqueline Pascal. Do you know
+about them, Tessa?"
+
+"I know that he was a monk and she a nun."
+
+"That is like me, and not like Philip," said Miss Sarepta; "he shall not
+be a monk because I am a nun!"
+
+"His wife will be jealous enough of you, though," said Mrs. Towne; "not
+a mail comes that he does not send you something. How would she like
+that?"
+
+"Philip could not love any one that would come between us. Tessa, do you
+admire my brother as much as I wish you to do?"
+
+"I admire him exceedingly," said Tessa, looking up from her twenty-fifth
+block of the basket quilt; "he is my ideal. I knew that I had found my
+ideal as soon as I saw him; I did not wait to hear him speak."
+
+And that he was her ideal she became more and more assured, for in
+February he spent a week at home and she had opportunity to study him at
+all hours and in any hour of the day. He had lost his fancied
+resemblance to Dr. Towne, or _she_ had lost it in thinking of him as
+only himself. The long talks, during which she sat, at Miss Sarepta's
+side, on a foot cushion, work in hand, the basket blocks, or some more
+fanciful work for Miss Sarepta, she remembered afterward as one of the
+times in her life in which she _grew_. She told Miss Sarepta that she
+and her brother were like the men and women that St. Paul in his
+Epistles sent his love to. "He ought to marry a saint like Madame Guyon;
+I think that it would be easier to revere him as a saint than to marry
+him. I can't imagine any woman forgiving him, or loving him because he
+_needs_ her love; he stands so far above me, I could never think of him
+as at my side and sometimes saying, 'Help me, Tessa,' or, 'What do _you_
+think?'"
+
+"Now we know your ideal of marriage," laughed Mrs. Towne. "Philip is a
+good boy, but he sometimes needs looking after."
+
+"Stockings and shirt buttons!"
+
+"And other things, too. He is forgetful, and he's rather careless. How
+much he is taken up with that reading class!"
+
+"In a monkish way," smiled Miss Sarepta. "He was full of enthusiasm
+about Ralph, too, mother."
+
+"How is it, Miss Tessa, do you admire Dr. Towne as much as you do St.
+Philip?" inquired the old lady with good-humored sarcasm.
+
+"He is not a saint," said Tessa, "he needs looking after in several
+matters besides stockings and shirt buttons."
+
+"Philip talks about him! What is it that he says he is, Sarepta?"
+
+"In his profession just what he expected that he would be,--quick, quiet,
+gentle, sympathetic, patient, persevering; he has thrown himself into it
+heart and soul. Philip used to wonder if he would ever find his
+vocation; his life always had a promise of good things--"
+
+"But he was slow about it; not quick like Philip; he should have begun
+practice ten years ago. What has he been doing all this time?"
+
+"We can see the fruit of his doing, mother; it does not much matter as
+to the doing itself. Don't you know that six years are given to the
+perfecting even of a beetle?"
+
+"I don't know about beetles and things; I know that I used to think that
+my boy would outstrip Lydia's boy."
+
+"Mother! mother!" laughed Sarepta, "you mind earthly things. I shall
+never run a race with anybody. Can't you be a little proud of me?"
+
+Sarepta Towne had her brother's eyes, but her hair was brighter, with
+not one silver thread among its short curls; her fair, fresh face was
+certainly ten years younger than his. In summer her wrappers were of
+white; in winter she kept herself a bird in gay plumage; always the
+singing-bird, in white or crimson. When Philip Towne said "My sister,"
+his voice and eyes said "My saint."
+
+Once, after a silence, Tessa asked about her "Shut-ins." "How did it
+come into your heart at first?"
+
+"It is a long story; first tell me what your heart has been about. It
+has been painting your eyes darker and darker."
+
+"It is a very foolish heart then; it was only repeating something that I
+learned once and did not then understand. I do not know that I can say
+it correctly, but it is like this:
+
+ "'God's generous in giving, say I,
+ And the thing which he gives, I deny
+ That He ever can take back again.
+ He gives what He gives: be content.
+ He resumes nothing given; be sure.
+ God lend? where the usurers lent
+ In His temple, indignant He went
+ And scourged away all those impure.
+ He lends not, but gives to the end,
+ As He loves to the end. If it seem
+ That He draws back a gift, comprehend
+ 'Tis to add to it rather, amend
+ And finish it up to your dream.'"
+
+"Well?" said Miss Sarepta.
+
+"Once,--a long time ago, it seems now,--He gave me something; it was love
+for somebody; and then He took it--or I let it go, because it was too
+much trouble to keep it; I did not like His gift, it hurt too much; I
+was glad to let it go, and yet I missed it so; I was not worthy such a
+perfect gift as a love that could be hurt in loving; I could love as I
+loved all beauty and goodness and truth, but when I found that love must
+hold on and endure, must hope and believe, must suffer shame and loss, I
+gave it up. God was generous in giving; He gave me all I could receive,
+and when He would have given me more, I shrank away from His giving and
+said, 'It hurts too much. I am too proud to take love or give love if I
+must be made humble first. I wanted to give like a queen, not stooping
+from my full height, and I wanted to give to a king: instead, I was
+asked to give--just like any common mortal to another common mortal, and
+that after we had misinterpreted and misunderstood each other, and I had
+written hard things of him all over my heart, and what he had thought
+me, nobody knows but himself! And now I think, if I will, that I may
+have the love again finished up to my dream; finished above any thing
+that I knew how to ask or think, and it is altogether too good and
+perfect a gift for me; so good that I can not keep it, I must needs give
+it away."
+
+Tessa had told her story with quickened breath, not once lifting the
+eyes that were growing darker and darker.
+
+Miss Sarepta's "thank you" held all the appreciation that Tessa wished.
+
+"And now," after another silence, for these two loved silences together,
+"you want to know about my dear Shut-ins. Philip named them from the
+words, 'And the Lord shut him in.' It began one day when I was sitting
+alone thinking! I am often sitting alone thinking; but this day I was
+thinking sad thoughts about my useless, idle life, and I had planned my
+life to be such a busy life. There was nothing that I could do to help
+along; I had to sit still and be helped; and I shouldn't wonder if I
+cried a little. That was five years ago, we were living in the city
+then; in the middle of my bemoanings and my tears, I spied the postman
+crossing the street. How Philip laughed when I told him that I loved
+that postman better than any man in all the world! That day he brought
+me several lovely things: one of them a book from Cousin Ralph, and a
+letter from Aunt Lydia; that letter is the beginning of my story. She
+told me about a little invalid that she had found and suggested that I
+should write one of my charming letters to her. Of course you know that
+I write charming letters! So I wiped away my naughty tears and wrote the
+charming letter! In a few days, my hero, the postman, brought the reply.
+That was my first Shut-in letter. Bring me the album, I will show you
+Susie."
+
+Tessa brought it and Miss Sarepta opened it on her lap to an
+intelligent, serious, sweet face.
+
+"She has not taken a step for many years; she is among the youngest of
+many children; her great love is love for children, she teaches daily
+thirteen little ones. The one thing in her life that strikes me is her
+_faithfulness_. There is nothing too little for her to be faithful in.
+One of her great longings used to be for letters; oh, if the postman
+would only bring her a letter! For a year or two I wrote every week, the
+longest, brightest, most every-day letters I could think of. And one day
+it came to me that if _we_ had such a good time together, why should we
+not find some other to whom a letter or a book would be as a breath of
+fresh air. I pondered the matter for a month or two, but I couldn't
+advertise for an invalid, and none of my friends knew of any. One
+morning I glanced through a religious paper, and tossed it aside, then
+something moved me to pick it up again, and there she was! The one I
+sought! That was Elsie. Look at her pale, patient face. For fourteen
+years she has lived in one room. And hasn't she the brightest, most
+grateful, happiest heart that ever beat in a frail body or a strong one?
+Her poems are graceful little things; I will show you some of them. She
+had been praying six months for a helpful friend, when she received my
+first letter. Her letters are gems. You shall read a pile of them. And
+she had a Shut-in friend, to whom I must write, of course. She is Mabel.
+I have no picture of her. When she was well, they called her the
+laughing girl; she has lain eleven years in bed!"
+
+"Oh, dear me!" sighed Tessa.
+
+"Don't sigh, child. She writes in pencil as she can not lift her head. I
+call her my sunbeam. She often dates her letters 'In my Corner.' So
+another year went on with my three Shut-ins. I forgot to cry about my
+folded hands and useless life. One day it came into my mind to write a
+sketch and call it, 'Our Shut-in Society'; to write all about Mabel and
+Elsie and Sue, and send it to the paper in which I had found Elsie's
+first article.
+
+"And that sketch! How it was read! I received letters from north, south,
+east, and west concerning it. Was there really such a society, and were
+there such happy people as Mabel, Elsie, and Susie? One who had not
+spoken aloud for fourteen years would love to write to them; another who
+had locked her school-room door one summer day, and come home to rest,
+had been forced to rest through eight long years, and was so lonely,
+with her sisters married and away; another, quite an old man, who had
+lain for six years in the loft of an old log-cabin, was eager for a word
+or a paper. How his letter touched us all! 'The others have letters, but
+when the mail comes naught comes to me,' he wrote. But you will be tired
+of hearing my long story; you shall see their letters; you must see
+Delle's letters; she sits all day in a wheelchair, and has no hope of
+ever taking a step; she has a mother and a little boy; the brightest
+little boy! Her poems have appeared in some of our best periodicals; we
+are something beside a band of sufferers, Miss Tessa; some of us are
+literary! My most precious letters are from Elizabeth; her fiftieth
+birthday came not long since; for ten years her home has been in one
+room; she has written a book that the Shut-ins cry over.
+
+"And oh, we have a prisoner! A Shut-in shut up in state's prison. A
+young man with an innocent, boyish face; he ran away from home when he
+was a child and ran into state's prison because no one cared what became
+of him. His letters are unaffected and grateful; he does want to be a
+good boy! Thirty-six are on my list now; I would find more if I had
+strength to write more; some of them have more and some less than I;
+many of them have Shut-ins that I know nothing about. We remember each
+other on holidays and birthdays! The things that postmen and country
+mail-carriers have in their mail-bags are funny to see: flower seeds,
+bits of fancy work, photographs, pictures, any thing and every thing!
+
+"They all look forward to mail-time through the night and through the
+day.
+
+"And, speaking humanly, my share in it, all I receive and the little I
+give, came out of my self-bemoanings and tears; my longing to be a
+helper in some small way!
+
+"Now if you want to help me, you may cut some blocks of patch-work for
+me. One of the Shut-ins is making a quilt to leave as a memorial to her
+daughter, and I want to send my contribution to the mail to-night; and
+you may direct several papers for me, and cover that book, 'Thoughts for
+Weary Hours.' I press you into my service, you see."
+
+"Miss Sarepta, I am ashamed."
+
+"Shame is an evidence of something; go on."
+
+"I am ashamed that I am such a dreamer."
+
+"Philip says that you are a dreamer."
+
+"I care for my writing."
+
+"Mowers work while they whet their scythes," quoted Miss Sarepta.
+
+
+
+
+XXV.--BLUE MYRTLE.
+
+
+In March, Tessa found myrtle in bloom, and took a handful of the blue
+blossoms mingled with sprays of the green leaves to Miss Sarepta.
+
+"Spring has come," she said dropping them on the open book in Miss
+Sarepta's lap.
+
+"If spring has come, then I must lose you."
+
+"Every hand that I know in Dunellen is beckoning me homewards; my
+winter's work is done."
+
+That evening--it was the sixth of March, that date ever afterward was
+associated with blue myrtle and Nan Gerard--she was sitting at the table
+writing letters; in the same chair and at the same place at the table
+where Dinah had written her letter about Gus and her wonderful John;
+Aunt Theresa was knitting this evening also, and Uncle Knox was asleep
+in a chintz-covered wooden rocker with the big cat asleep on his knees.
+
+She had written a letter to Mabel and one to Elsie, lively descriptive
+letters, making a picture of Miss Sarepta's book-lined,
+picture-decorated, flower-scented room and a picture of Miss Sarepta,
+also touching lightly upon her own breezy out-of-door life with its hard
+work and its beautiful hopes. The third letter was a sheet to Mrs.
+Towne; the sentence in ending was one that Mrs. Towne had been eagerly
+and anxiously expecting all through the winter: "My ring reminds me of
+my promise; a promise that I shall keep some day, perhaps."
+
+"Tessa, are you unhappy, child?" asked Aunt Theresa with a knitting
+needle between her lips.
+
+"Unhappy! Why, auntie, what am I doing?"
+
+The tall lamp with its white china shade stood between them. Aunt
+Theresa took the knitting needle from its place of safety and counted
+fourteen stitches before she replied.
+
+"Sighing! When young people sigh, something must ail them. What do _you_
+have to be miserable about?"
+
+"I am not miserable."
+
+"Tell me, what are you miserable about?"
+
+"Sometimes--I am not satisfied--that is all."
+
+"I should think that that was enough. What are you dissatisfied about?
+Haven't you enough to eat and to drink and clothes enough to wear?
+Haven't you a good father and mother who wouldn't see you want for any
+thing? What is it that you haven't enough of, pray?"
+
+"I do not know that I am wishing for any thing--to night. I am learning
+to wait."
+
+"Yes, you are! You are wishing for something that isn't in this world, I
+know."
+
+"Then I'll find it in heaven."
+
+"People don't sigh after heaven as a usual thing. You read too many
+books, that's what's the matter with you. Reading too many books affects
+different people in different ways; I've seen a good deal of girls'
+reading."
+
+Tessa's pen was scribbling initials on a half sheet of paper.
+
+"I know the symptoms. Some girls when they read love-stories become
+dissatisfied with their looks; they look into the glass and worry over
+their freckles or their dark skins, or their big mouths or turn-up
+noses; they fuss over their waists and try to squeeze them slim and
+slender, and they cripple themselves squeezing their number four feet
+into number two shoes. But you are not that kind. And some girls despise
+their fathers and mothers because they can't speak grammar and pronounce
+long words, and because they say 'care' for carry and 'empt' for empty!
+And they despise their homes and their plain, substantial furniture. But
+you are not that kind either. Your face is well enough, and your father
+and mother are well enough, and your home is well enough."
+
+Tessa was scribbling Dunellen, then she wrote R. T. and Nan Gerard.
+
+"And you are not sighing for a lordly lover," continued Aunt Theresa,
+with increasing energy "You don't want him to wear a cloak or carry a
+sword. Your trouble is different! You read a higher grade of
+love-stories, about men that are honorable and true, who would die
+before they would tell a lie or say any thing that isn't so. They are as
+gentle as zephyrs; they would walk over eggs and not crack them; they
+are always thinking of something new and startling and deep that it
+can't enter a woman's mind to conceive, and their faces have different
+expressions enough in one minute to wear one ordinary set of muscles
+out; and they never think of themselves, they would burn up and not know
+it, because they were keeping a fly off of somebody else; they are so
+high and mighty and simple and noble that an angel might take pattern by
+them. And that is what troubles you. You read about such fine fellows
+and shut the book and step out into life and break your heart because
+the real, mannish man, who is usually as good as human nature and all
+the grace he has got will help him be, isn't so perfect and noble as
+this perfect man that somebody has made out of his head. You can't be
+satisfied with a real human man who thinks about himself and does wrong
+when it is too hard to do right, even if he comes on his bended knees
+and says he's sorry and that he'll never do such a thing again. You want
+to love somebody that you are proud of; you are too proud to love
+somebody that is as weak as you are. And so you can't be satisfied at
+all! Why _must_ you be satisfied?"
+
+"Why should I not be?"
+
+"For the best reason in the world; to be satisfied in any man, in his
+love for you and in your love for him, would be--do you know what it
+would be? It would be idolatry."
+
+Aunt Theresa's attention was given to her knitting; she did not see the
+shining of Tessa's eyes.
+
+"Be satisfied with God, child, and take all the happiness you can get."
+
+Tessa's pen was making tremulous capitals.
+
+"Be satisfied _with_, if you can, but not _in_, some good man who
+stumbles to-day and stands straight to-morrow; I fought it out on that
+line once, and so I know all about it."
+
+This then was the experience that Dr. Towne had said that she must ask
+for; had he guessed that it would be altogether on his side?
+
+This was it, and this was all. Uncle Knox's old eyes had a look for his
+old wife that they never held for any other living thing, and as for
+Aunt Theresa, how often had Tessa thought, "I want to grow old and love
+somebody the way you do."
+
+_Might_ she be satisfied with God and love Ralph Towne all she wanted
+to?
+
+"Why, Theresa," exclaimed Uncle Knox, opening his eyes and staring at
+his wife, "I haven't heard you talk so much sentiment for thirty years."
+
+"And you will not in another thirty years. But Tessa was in a tangle--I
+know eggs when I see the shells--and I had to help her out."
+
+A tap at the window brought Tessa to her feet. A neighbor had brought
+the mail; she took the papers and letters with a most cordial "thank
+you" and came to the table with both hands full. The papers she opened
+and glanced through; the letters she took up-stairs to read. The
+business-looking envelope she opened first; she read it once, twice,
+then gave an exclamation of delight. Oh, how pleased her father would
+be! Her manuscript had given such perfect satisfaction that, although
+written for pictures, the pictures would be discarded and new ones made
+to illustrate her story. Gus would congratulate her, and Miss Jewett;
+this appreciation by the publisher was the crown that the winter's work
+would always wear for her. With a long breath, she sighed, "Oh, what a
+blessed winter this has been to me!"
+
+The long, white envelope was from Mrs. Towne, the chocolate from Sue,
+the cream-colored from Dinah, the pale blue from Miss Jewett, the pink
+from Nan Gerard, and the square white from Laura Harrison. Mr. Hammerton
+had not once written; a kind message through her father or Dinah was all
+evidence he had given of remembrance. Mrs. Towne's letter was opened
+before the others. What would Dine or Miss Jewett or Laura think of
+this? The faint perfume was the lady herself, so real was her presence
+that Tessa felt her arms about her as she read.
+
+"Sue does not come to me as often as in the winter," she wrote; "the
+Gesners, one and all, are proving themselves more alluring. Miss Gesner
+will be a good friend to her. If you could hear her laugh and talk, you
+would think of her as Sue Greyson and never as the widowed Mrs. Lake.
+She is Dr. Lake's widow, certainly she is not his wife. Ralph growls
+about it in his kind way, but I think that he did not expect any thing
+deeper from her. Nan Gerard was with me all day yesterday; she was as
+sweet and shy as a wild flower. Nan's heart is awake. Am I a silly old
+woman? I dream of you every night. I would be a washer-woman and live in
+Gesner's Row, if I might have you for my daughter, never to leave me.
+Now I _am_ a silly old woman and I will go to bed."
+
+The perfumed sheet was passed to the reader's lips before the next
+envelope was torn open.
+
+Dinah's letter was a sheet of foolscap; it was written as a diary.
+
+The first entry was merely an account of attending a concert with John;
+the second stated in a few strong words the failure of a bank. Old Mr.
+Hammerton had lost a large amount of money and had had a stroke of
+paralysis.
+
+The third contained the history of a call from Sue; how tall and elegant
+she looked in her rich mourning, and how she had talked about her
+courtship and marriage all the time.
+
+The fourth day their father had had an attack of pain, but it had not
+lasted as long as usual.
+
+The last page was filled in Dine's eager, story-telling style:
+
+"Just to think, Tessa, now I know the end of my romance. It was dark
+last night just before tea, and I went into the front hall for something
+that I wanted to get out of the hat-stand drawer. The sitting-room door
+stood slightly ajar; I did not know that Gus was with father until I
+heard his voice. I did not listen, truly I did not; after I heard the
+first sentence I didn't dare stir for fear of making my presence known.
+I moved off as easily and swiftly as I could, but I heard every word as
+plainly as if I had been in the room. It is queer that I should overhear
+the beginning and the ending of poor Gus's only romance, isn't it? I
+heard him say, 'Every thing is changed in my plans; father is left with
+nothing but his good name, my mother is aged and feeble, my sister is a
+widow with a child; _her_ money is gone, too. I am the sole support of
+four people. I could not marry, even if I desired to do so. And since I
+have definitely learned that she does not think of me, and never has
+thought of me, and that she thinks of some one else, the bachelor's life
+will be no great hardship.'
+
+"I had got to the parlor door by that time, so, of course, I never can
+know father's answer. But isn't it dreadful? I suppose that he is over
+the disappointment, for his voice sounded as cool as usual; too cold, I
+thought. I should have liked him better if he had been in a flutter. I
+shall never tell any body but John. Poor old, wise old, dear old Gus! He
+will pursue the even tenor of his unmarried way, and no one will ever
+guess that he has had a romance. Perhaps Felix Harrison has had one,
+too. Perhaps every body has."
+
+So it _was_ Dinah, after all. And she had fought her long, hard fights
+all for nothing.
+
+It _was_ Dine, and now her father would understand; he would not think
+her blind and stupid; he would not be disappointed that she had not
+chosen his choice!
+
+And that it was herself that Gus Hammerton had loved, the wife of John
+Woodstock always believed. And that it was herself, Tessa never knew;
+for not knowing that he had stood at the window that night that Dr.
+Towne had brought her home, and witnessed their parting at the gate, how
+could she divine that "definitely learned that she does not think of
+me," had referred to her?
+
+Mr. Wadsworth had listened in utter bewilderment, recalling Tessa's
+repeated declaration that it was Dinah. "I _am_ in my dotage," he
+thought; "for I certainly understood that he said Tessa."
+
+"My wish was with your wish," he said.
+
+"She will be better satisfied," Mr. Hammerton answered in his most
+abrupt tone. "He is a fine man; I can understand his attraction for
+her."
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth entered at that instant and the conversation was too
+fraught with pain to both ever to be resumed; therefore it fell out that
+Mr. Hammerton was the only one in the world who ever knew, beyond a
+perhaps, which of the sisters he had asked of the father.
+
+That Tessa had not been influenced by his importunate and mistaken
+urging, was one of the things that her father was thankful for to the
+end of his days.
+
+"Poor Gus! The dear, brave boy," sighed Tessa over her letter. "And my
+worry has only been to reveal to me that I can not reason myself into
+loving or not loving."
+
+A paragraph in Nan Gerard's letter was dwelt long upon; then the
+daintily written pink sheet dropped from her fingers and she sat bending
+forward looking into the glowing brands until the lights were out
+down-stairs and Hilda's heavy step had passed her door.
+
+"Oh, Naughty Nan!" she said rousing herself, "I hope that you love him
+very, very much. Better than I know how to do!"
+
+The paragraph ran in this fashion:
+
+"I have had a very pretty present; I really believe that I like it
+better than any thing that Robert ever gave me. It is a ring with an
+onyx: on the stone is engraved two letters in monogram. You shall guess
+them, my counsellor, and it will not be hard when I whisper that one of
+them is T. I am very happy and very good. 'Nan's Experiment' is burnt up
+and with it all my foolishness. 'Such as I wish it to be.' I think of
+that whenever I look at my ring. Tell me all about your lovely Miss
+Sarepta. I like to know how I shall have to behave before her. We are to
+be married next month."
+
+Did Nan know the hurt and the hurt and the hurt of love? No wonder that
+she was "shy" with Mrs. Towne. Why had not Mrs. Towne told her? Must she
+write and congratulate Naughty Nan whose story was such as she wished it
+to be?
+
+The letters that she had written that evening were on the bureau; the
+sudden remembering of the line that she had written in Mrs. Towne's
+brought her to her feet with a rush of shame like the old hot flashes
+from head to foot; she seized the letter and rolling it up tucked it
+down among the coals; it blazed, burning slowly, the flame curled around
+the words that she had been saved just in time from sending; the words
+that would never be written or spoken.
+
+The room was chilly and the candle had burnt out before she went to bed;
+the lights opposite had long been out. The room was cold and dark and
+strange; outside in the darkness the night was wild.
+
+It was too late; her conflict had lasted too long; her pride and disdain
+had killed his love for her; perhaps he felt as she did in that time
+when she had wanted some one to love her, and he had taken Naughty Nan
+as she had taken Felix.
+
+She had lived it all through once; she could live it all through again;
+she could have slept, but would not for fear of the waking. Oh, if it
+would never come light, and she could lie forever shielded in darkness!
+But the light crept up higher and higher into the sky, Hilda passed the
+door, and Uncle Knox's heavy tread was in the hall below.
+
+Another day had come, and other days would always be coming; every day
+life must be full of work and play, even although Dr. Towne had failed
+in love that was patience; she had suffered once, because he was slow to
+understand himself, and plainly he had suffered to the verge of his
+endurance, because she was slow in understanding herself!
+
+The day wore on to twilight; she had worked listlessly; in the twilight
+she laid her work aside, and went over to the cottage.
+
+"I have something to show you," said Miss Sarepta; "guess what my last
+good gift from Philip is."
+
+"I did not know that he had any thing left to give you."
+
+"It is the last and best. A flower of spring!" From a thick envelope in
+her work-basket, she drew out a photograph, and, with its face upward,
+laid it in Tessa's hand.
+
+A piquant face: daring in the eyes, sweetness on the lips.
+
+"Nan Gerard!" cried Tessa, catching her breath with a sound like a sob.
+
+"Naughty Nan! And they are to be married here in this room, that I may
+be bridesmaid."
+
+"Oh, how stupid I was!"
+
+"Why, had you an inkling of it?"
+
+"Several of them, if I had had eyes to see!"
+
+"It came last night, and I lay awake all night, thinking of the woman
+that Philip will love henceforth better than he loves me."
+
+"Oh, how can you bear it?" Tessa knelt on the carpet at her side, with
+her head on the arm of the chair.
+
+"I could not, at first. I could not now, if I did not love Philip better
+than I love myself."
+
+So her sorrow had become Miss Sarepta's! She drew a long breath, and did
+not speak.
+
+"Don't feel so sorry for me, dear. I have known that in the nature of
+things,--which is but another name for God's will,--this must come. Even
+after all the years, it has come suddenly. Will she love my brother?"
+
+"I am sure she will; more and more as the years go on!"
+
+"Every heart must choose for itself," said Miss Sarepta dreamily, "and
+the choice of the Lord runs through all our choices."
+
+Tessa's lips gave a glad assent.
+
+A letter from Dinah that evening ended thus. "Father is not at all well;
+I think that he grows weaker every day. To-day he said, 'Isn't it
+_almost_ time for Tessa to come?'"
+
+At noon the next day she was in Dunellen.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.--ANOTHER MAY.
+
+
+May came with blossoms, lilacs, and a birthday, she smiled all to
+herself over last year's reverie; the anniversary of the day in which
+she had walked homewards with Mr. Hammerton and accepted Felix in the
+evening followed the birthday; a sad anniversary for Felix, she
+remembered, for he had her habit of retrospection.
+
+The days slipped through his mind, Laura had told her; he would often
+ask the day of the week or month. He had become quiet and melancholy,
+seemingly absorbed in the interest of the moment. He had greeted Tessa
+as he would have greeted any friend, at their last interview, and she
+had left him believing that his future would not be without happiness. A
+year ago to-day, Mr. Hammerton had said that a year made a difference,
+sometimes. And this year! How the events had hurried into each other,
+jostling against each other like good-humored people in a crowd! A year
+ago to-day she had thought of Nan Gerard as the wife of Ralph Towne;
+to-day she was sailing on the sea, Professor Towne's wife; just as
+naughty as ever, but rather more dignified. A year ago to-night she had
+held herself the promised wife of her old tormentor, Felix Harrison;
+since that night all his future had become a blank, the strong man had
+become as a little child; since that day Dine had found her wonderful
+John; since that day Dr. Lake had had his heart's desire, and had been
+called away from Sue, leaving her a widow; the hurrying year had taken
+from Gus a long hope and had given him a future of hard work with meagre
+wages. And Dr. Towne! But she could not trust herself to think of him.
+They met as usual, not less often; he had grown graver since last year,
+and had thrown himself heart and soul into his work: never
+demonstrative, his manner towards her, had, if possible, become less and
+less intrusive; but ever responsive, having nothing to respond to, now,
+but a gentle deference, a shyness that increased; a stranger would have
+said, meeting him with Tessa Wadsworth, that he was intensely interested
+in her, but exceedingly in doubt of finding favor.
+
+But Tessa could not see this; she felt only the restraint and
+chilliness.
+
+Once they were left suddenly alone together; he excused himself and
+abruptly left her; clearly, he had no reply to make to her letter; his
+love was worn out with her freaks and whims.
+
+"I deserve it," she said, taking stern pleasure in meting out justice to
+herself.
+
+One afternoon in late May, she found herself on the gnarled seat that
+the roots had braided for her; she had been gazing down into the brook
+and watching a robin-redbreast taking his bath in it, canary-fashion;
+she watched him until he had flown away and perched upon a post of the
+Old Place meadow fence, then her eyes came back to the water, the
+stones, and the weeds.
+
+"I always know where to find you!" The exclamation could be in no other
+loud voice; she recognized Sue before she lifted her eyes to the tall,
+black-draped figure. If Sue had had a sorrow, there was no trace of it
+in voice or countenance.
+
+"Isn't it dusty? How I shall look trailing around in all this black
+stuff! What do you always come here for? Do you come to meet somebody?"
+
+"It seems that I have come to meet you."
+
+"Don't you remember how you talked to me here that day? I did keep my
+promise; I _was_ good to Gerald. Poor, dear Gerald! I have nothing to
+reproach myself with."
+
+"Did mother send you here?"
+
+"She said that I would find you between the end of the planks and
+Mayfield. Come through the grounds of Old Place with me. I want you to
+see Mrs. Towne's flowers and a new arbor that Dr. Towne has been putting
+up."
+
+"No, thank you," said Tessa rising and tossing away a handful of
+withering wild flowers.
+
+"You don't know how lovely the place is. Dr. Towne is always thinking of
+some new thing to do; I asked him if it were for that grand wife that he
+has been waiting so long for, and, do you believe, he said 'Yes,' as
+sincerely as could be. He looked up at his mother and smiled when he
+said it, too. I believe they know something. Nan Gerard didn't get him
+any way! Won't she have a lovely time travelling! I always did want to
+go to Europe; Gerald never would have taken me. I can't believe that
+he's dead, can you?"
+
+As Tessa was busy with her veil and did not speak, Sue rattled on.
+
+"Did you know that I've been making another visit at Miss Gesner's? They
+call their place Blossom Hill, and it has been so sweet with blossoms."
+
+"Is she as lovely as ever?"
+
+"I don't know," said Sue, doubtfully; "sometimes I think that she is
+stiff and proud; the truth is she doesn't like to have her old brother
+pay attention to me. She thinks that he is too old a boy for such
+nonsense; but _he_ doesn't think so! Good for me that he doesn't. What
+are you walking so fast for? I went to drive with him every day after
+business hours; we _did_ look stylish!"
+
+"With Miss Gesner, too?" queried Tessa, in a voice that she could not
+steady.
+
+"No, indeed," laughed Sue, "and that's the beauty of it. What did we
+want her along for? Of course we talked about Gerald; we talked a great
+deal about him. I told him how kind he had been to me and how I adored
+him and how I mourned for him. I am sure that I cried myself sick; Dr.
+Towne gave me something one night to keep me from having hysterics! I
+should have died of grief if Mrs. Towne hadn't taken me to Old Place;
+she was like a mother, and _he_ was as kind as kind could be! It was
+like the other time before I was engaged to Gerald; I couldn't believe
+that it wasn't that time. The Gesners were kind, too; I thought at first
+that Miss Gesner really loved me; but she began to be stiff after she
+saw her brother kiss me. I couldn't help it; I told him that it was too
+soon for such goings on."
+
+"O, _Sue!_" cried Tessa, wearily. "And he loved you so."
+
+"Gerald! Of course he did! But that's all past and gone! He can't expect
+me never to have any good times, can he? He didn't leave me any money to
+have a good time with! I'm too young to shut myself up and think of his
+grave all the time. You and father are the most unreasonable people I
+ever saw! Why, he thinks because he thinks of mother every day, and
+wouldn't be married for any thing, that I must be that kind of a
+mourner, too! It's very hard; nobody ever had so much trouble as I do. I
+never used to like John Gesner, but you don't know how interesting he
+can be. He took off my wedding ring one day and said it didn't fit. It
+always was a little too large. Gerald said that I would grow into it,"
+she said, slipping it up and down on her finger and letting it drop on
+the grass.
+
+"There!" with a little laugh as she stooped to look for it, "suppose I
+could never find it. Is that what you call an omen, Tessa? Help me
+look!"
+
+"No, let it be. Let it be buried, too."
+
+"There! I have found it. You needn't be so cross to me. I wonder why you
+are cross to me. Gerald Raid once that you would be a good friend to me
+forever."
+
+"I will, Susie," said Tessa, fervently.
+
+"You always liked Gerald. What did you like him for?" asked Sue,
+curiously.
+
+As the answer was not forthcoming, Sue started off on a new branch of
+the old topic. "Mr. John Gesner is going to Europe this fall, or in the
+winter; he is going on business, but he says that if he had a wife to go
+around with him that he would stay a year or two. Wouldn't that be
+grand? Nan Gerard will have to be home when the Seminary opens, anyway.
+It would be grand to travel for two years."
+
+"Why does not Miss Gesner go with him?"
+
+"Oh, she wouldn't leave Lewis. Lewis and Blossom Hill are her two idols.
+Mr. John says that if he were married, he would build a new house right
+opposite, and he asked me as we passed the grand houses which style I
+liked best. There was one with porticoes and columns, I chose that. He
+said that it could be built while he was away, and be all ready for him
+to bring his bride home to. But you are not listening; you never think
+of what I am saying," Sue said, in a grumbling, tearful voice. "My
+friends are forever misunderstanding me. Gerald never misunderstood me.
+What do you think Dr. Towne said to me? He said that when I am old, I
+shall love Gerald better than any one; that what comes between will fall
+out and leave that time. Won't it be queer? He said that women ought to
+think love the best thing in the world. I cried while he was talking. I
+can love any body that is kind to me. When I told John Gesner that, he
+said, 'I will always be kind to you.' But you are not listening; I
+verily believe that you care more for that squirrel than you do for me!"
+
+"See it run," cried Tessa. "Isn't it a perfect little creature? If you
+will come and stay a week with me, we will take a walk every day."
+
+"I can't--now," Sue stumbled over her words. "Say, Tessa, Mr. Gesner has
+given me a set of pearls. I can wear pearls in mourning, can't I?"
+
+"With your mourning, you can wear any thing."
+
+"Can I? I didn't know it. It's awful lonesome at home; lonesomer than it
+ever was."
+
+"I would come and stay a week with you, but I do not like to leave
+father; he is not so strong as he was last summer."
+
+"You wouldn't let Mr. Gesner come and spend the evening; I haven't asked
+him, but I'm going to ask him the next time I see him."
+
+Dr. Greyson called for Sue late in the evening. "I have the comfort of
+my old age hard and fast," he said; "she will never want to run away
+from me again, will you, Susie?"
+
+"I don't know," said Sue, with a hard, uncomfortable laugh; "you must
+keep a sharp lookout. I may be in Africa by this time next year."
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.--SUNSET.
+
+
+"Father is very feeble," said Mrs. Wadsworth one day in June. "I shall
+persuade him to take a vacation. Lewis Gesner told him yesterday that he
+must take a rest; do you notice how he spends all his evenings on the
+sofa? I think that if Gus would come and play chess as he used to that
+it would rouse him."
+
+The week of Mr. Wadsworth's vacation ran into two weeks and into a
+month; Dr. Greyson fell into a friendly habit of calling daily; Mr.
+Lewis Gesner and Mr. Hammerton came for a chat with him on the piazza as
+often as every other day, sometimes one of them would pass the evening
+beside his lounge in the sitting-room. Mr. Hammerton amused him by talk
+of people and books with a half hour of politics thrown in; and Mr.
+Gesner with his genial voice and genial manner helped them all to
+believe that life had its warm corners, and that an evening all
+together, with the feeble old man on the lounge an interested listener,
+was certainly one of the cosiest.
+
+"Father, why have you kept Mr. Gesner to yourself all these years?"
+Tessa asked after one of these evenings.
+
+"I would have brought him home before, if I had known that you would
+have found him so charming."
+
+"He is my ideal of the shadow of a rock in a weary land," she answered;
+"I do not wonder that his sister's heart is bound up in him. How can
+brothers who live together be so different?"
+
+"John is well enough," said her father, "there's nothing wrong about
+him."
+
+"He makes me _creep_," said Tessa, vehemently, thinking of a pair of
+bracelets that Sue had brought to show her that day.
+
+Mr. Wadsworth lay silent for awhile, then opening his eyes gazed long at
+the figures and faces that were all his world; Mrs. Wadsworth's chair
+was at the foot of the lounge, the light from the lamp on the table fell
+on her busy hands, leaving her face in shadow; Dinah was reading at the
+table, with one hand pushed in among her curls; Tessa had dipped her pen
+into the ink and was carelessly holding it between thumb and finger
+before writing the last page of her three sheets to Miss Sarepta.
+
+"Oh my three girls!" he murmured so low that no one heard.
+
+Mrs. Wadsworth, in these days, was forgetting to be sharp, and hovered
+over him and lingered around him as lovingly as ever Tessa did.
+
+"Doctor," said Tessa, standing on the piazza with Dr. Greyson late one
+evening, "do you think that he may die suddenly?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Any time, when the pain comes?"
+
+"Any hour when the pain comes."
+
+"Does mother know?"
+
+"I think that she half suspects; she has asked me, and I have evaded the
+question."
+
+"Does he know it?"
+
+"He has known it since March."
+
+Since he had wanted her to come home!
+
+"Perhaps he has told mother."
+
+"She would only excite him and hasten the end."
+
+"She can be quiet enough when she chooses. I am glad--oh, I am so glad--"
+
+"Is the doctor gone?" cried Dinah rushing out, "father wants him. He has
+the pain dreadfully."
+
+The paroxysm was severe, but it passed away; Dr. Greyson decided to
+remain through the night; he fell asleep in the sitting-room and was
+awakened by Tessa's hand an hour before dawn.
+
+"Thank you, dear," said Mr. Wadsworth to his wife as she laid an extra
+quilt across his feet.
+
+They were his last words. Tessa always liked to think of them.
+
+July, August, and September dragged themselves through sunny days and
+rainy days into October. Tessa had learned that she could live without
+her father. There was little outward change in their home, the three
+were busy about their usual work and usual recreations; friends came and
+went; Tessa wrote and walked; gave two afternoons each week to Mrs.
+Towne, sometimes in Dunellen and sometimes at Old Place; ran in, as of
+old, for a helpful talk with Miss Jewett, not forgetting that she must
+be, what Dr. Lake had said,--a good friend to his wife. These were the
+busy hours; in the still hours,--but who can know for another the still
+hours?
+
+Mr. Hammerton and Mr. Lewis Gesner proved themselves to be invaluable
+friends; Tessa's warm regard for Mr. Gesner, even with the shock that
+came to her afterward, never became less; he ever remained her ideal of
+the rock in the weary land.
+
+Two weeks after her father's funeral, she had stood alone one evening
+towards dusk among her flowers: she had been gathering pansies and
+thinking that her father had always liked them and talked about them.
+
+There was a sound of wheels on the grass and a carriage stood at the
+opening in the shrubbery; the face into which she looked this time was
+not worn, or thin, or excited; a dark face, with grave, sympathetic
+eyes, was bending towards her.
+
+"I wish that I could help you," he said.
+
+"I know you do. No one can help me. I do not need help. I _am_ helped."
+
+"The air is sweet to-night."
+
+"And so still! Do you like my pansies?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Will you take them to your mother, and tell her that I will come
+to-morrow."
+
+"I will tell her; but I will keep the pansies for myself, if you will
+give them to me."
+
+She laid them in his hand with fingers that trembled.
+
+"Do they say something to me?"
+
+"They say a great deal to me!"
+
+"What do they say?"
+
+"I can not find a meaning for you. They must be their own interpreter."
+
+"But I may think that you gave them to me to keep as long as I live."
+
+"Yes; to keep as long as you live."
+
+"When you have something to say to me--something that you know I am
+waiting to hear--will you say it, freely, of your own accord."
+
+"Yes, freely, of my own accord."
+
+"I regret to trouble you; but if you ever waited, you know that it is
+the hardest of hard work."
+
+"I know," said Tessa, her voice breaking; "but you may not like what I
+say."
+
+"Perhaps you will say what I like then."
+
+"I will if I _can_."
+
+What had she to say, freely, of her own accord? I think that it was the
+knowledge of what she would say by and by when she was fully sure that
+helped her to bear the loneliness of this summer and autumn.
+
+And thus passed the summer that she had planned for rest. November found
+her making plans for winter. Her last winter's work had been sent to
+her, one volume with its new illustrations, and the other, with but one
+new picture; her father had looked forward to them; she sent copies to
+Elsie, Mabel, and Sue, also to Felix Harrison and Mr. Hammerton; Miss
+Jewett and Mrs. Towne made pretty and loving speeches over theirs; Tessa
+wondered, why, when she had written them with all her heart, they should
+seem so little to her now.
+
+"Where is your novel, Lady Blue," Mr. Hammerton, asked one evening.
+
+"I think that I shall live it first," she answered, seriously. "I
+couldn't love my ideal well enough to put him into a book, and the
+_real_ hero would only be lovable and commonplace, and no one would care
+to read about him--no one would care for him but me."
+
+"It must be something of an experience to learn that one's ideal can not
+be loved, and rather humiliating to find one's self in love with some
+one below one's standard."
+
+"That's what life is for,--to have an experience, isn't it?"
+
+"It seems to be some people's experience," he said, looking as wise as
+an owl, and as unsympathetic.
+
+November found Sue making plans, also. Her plans came out in this wise:
+she called one morning to talk to Tessa; Tessa was sewing in her own
+chamber, and Sue ran up lightly, as lightly as in the days before Gerald
+Lake had come to Dunellen.
+
+"Busy!" she said blithely, her flowing crape veil fluttering at the
+door.
+
+"Not too busy. Come in."
+
+Sue talked for an hour with her gloves on, then, carelessly, as she
+described some pretty thing that the Professor's wife had brought from
+over the sea, she drew the glove from her left hand, watching Tessa's
+face. The quick color--the quick, indignant color--repaid the manoeuvre;
+the wedding ring--the new wedding ring--was gone, and in its stead blazed
+a cluster of diamonds.
+
+"You might as well say something," began Sue, moving her hand in the
+sunlight.
+
+"I have nothing to say. I wonder how you dare come to me."
+
+"Why shouldn't I dare? I know it seems soon; but circumstances make a
+difference, and Mr. Gesner has to go to Europe next month. He took the
+other ring; I couldn't help it--I wouldn't have kept it safe with a lock
+of his hair in a little box--but he said that I shouldn't have this
+unless I gave him that."
+
+Tessa's head went down over her work; she had not wept aloud before
+since she was a little girl, but now the sobs burst through her lips
+uncontrolled. That ring that Dr. Lake had carried that day in the rain
+not fourteen months ago!
+
+Sue sprang to her feet, then dropped back into her chair and wept in
+sympathy, partly with a vague feeling of having done some dreadful
+thing, partly with the fear that life in a foreign land might not be
+wholly alluring; Mr. Gesner was kind, but poor Gerald had loved her so!
+
+"O, Tessa! Tessa! don't," she cried. "Stop crying and speak to me."
+
+"Go away from me. Go home. I will not speak to you."
+
+For a moment Sue waited, then she arose and moved towards the door,
+standing another moment, but as Tessa did not turn or speak, she went
+down-stairs, not lightly, hushed by the revelation of a grief that she
+could not understand.
+
+[Illustration: "Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another
+day," said Sue.]
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.--HEARTS ALIKE.
+
+
+Early in December, in a snow-storm, Sue Lake was married to John Gesner.
+
+"Some things are incomprehensible," declared Mrs. Wadsworth,
+plaintively, looking at the snow, "to think that she should marry an old
+beau of mine. So soon, too. How a widow can ever think--"
+
+Tessa refused to see her married until the last moment. "You must be a
+good friend to me through thick and thin," Sue coaxed, and Tessa went
+the evening before; but the evening was long and silent, for Tessa could
+not talk or admire Sue's outfit. The pretty brown and crimson chairs
+were again wheeled before the back parlor grate; but when Sue went out
+to attend for the last time to her father's lunch, there was no
+hilarious entrance, and Tessa's tears dropped because they would not be
+restrained.
+
+Sue's talk and laughter sounded through the hall; but Tessa could hear
+only "Good-by, Mystic; you and I will have our talk another day."
+
+"Kiss me and say you are glad," prayed Sue, when they went up to Sue's
+chamber to exchange white silk and orange blossoms for travelling
+attire. "It's horrid for you to look like a funeral. Mrs. Towne looks
+glum, and Miss Gesner had to cry!"
+
+The snow-flakes were falling and melting, as they were falling and
+melting the day that Sue sang for Dr. Lake; there was a fire in the
+air-tight to-day, and by some chance the low rocker had been pushed
+close to the side of the white-draped bed. Sue seated herself in it to
+draw on her gloves and for a last hurried, hysteric flow of words.
+
+"I'll write to you from Liverpool, Tessa. I hope that we sha'n't have
+any storms; I might think that it was a judgment. I don't want to be
+drowned; I want to see London and Paris and Rome. Isn't it queer for me
+to be married twice before you are married once!"
+
+"You may be married three times before I am married once," said Tessa,
+opening a bureau drawer to lay away an old glove box.
+
+"Oh, no, I sha'n't! I'll stay a rich widow, but it was distressed to
+stay a poor one. Did I tell you that Stacey is married? I was so
+delighted. He's got a good wife, too; real sober and settled down. So I
+didn't do so much harm after all your fuming and fussing. I like to make
+people comfortable when I can. And now we're happy all around just like
+a book. I wonder what will become of you before I get back. I expect
+that Dine will be married. John is as tickled as he can be! It's lovely
+to be an old man's darling; I am to have my own way about every thing.
+I'm glad that he wasn't a widower; I hate widowers!"
+
+A tap at the door summoned Sue. "Good-by, dear old room!" she cried
+gayly. "You've seen the last of me. I hope that you will get every thing
+you are waiting for, Tessa."
+
+As once before on Sue's wedding day, Tessa was taken home in Dr. Towne's
+carriage.
+
+"I wonder if he knows," she said.
+
+"If he do it can not trouble him. He understood her."
+
+"I am beginning to understand what the hurt of love is."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Don't you know?"
+
+"I think that you are teaching me."
+
+"It is a lesson that we have learned together. I used to wonder why God
+ever let us hurt each other; perhaps that is the reason, that we may
+learn together what love is!"
+
+"Do not the students ever come to the end of the chapter and learn the
+next lesson?"
+
+"I do not know what the next chapter is."
+
+"Perhaps if we study hard we may learn that together."
+
+"Great patience is needed to learn a lesson with me."
+
+"I have a great deal of patience."
+
+"I'm afraid that I haven't."
+
+"Having confessed our sins, suppose that we forget them."
+
+"I can't forget mine."
+
+"Can you forget mine?"
+
+She tried to speak, but the words stumbled on her lips.
+
+"Look up and answer me."
+
+She could not look up; she could not answer.
+
+"Tessa, say something."
+
+"Something," she said childishly between laughter and tears.
+
+After a moment, during which her glove had been unbuttoned and
+rebuttoned and he had leaned back, holding the reins loosely, she spoke:
+
+"You _have_ been patient with me. I will not have any more whims or
+fancies--I know now beyond any need of reasoning--"
+
+"What do you know?"
+
+"Something very happy."
+
+"And now shall we be as happy as Sue and her rich old lover?"
+
+"Do you see this ring?" touching the emerald. "It means that I must tell
+your mother that I am satisfied, fully and entirely and thoroughly,
+before I say 'Yes.'"
+
+"_Can_ you tell her that?"
+
+"Ask her and she will tell you."
+
+"Tessa, it has been a weary time."
+
+"I think that there must always be a weary time before two people
+understand each other; I am so glad to have ours come before--"
+
+The sun set behind clouds on Sue's second wedding day. Tessa tried to
+write, she tried to read, she tried to sew, she tried to talk to her
+mother and Dine; but failed in every thing but sitting idle at one of
+the parlor windows and looking out at the snow. There was a long evening
+in the shabby parlor; quiet talk, laughing talk, and merry talk mingled
+with half sentences, as many things both old and new were talked about.
+
+There were several happenings after this; one of them, of course, was
+Dinah's marriage to her wonderful John; Tessa's wedding gift to her was
+a deed of the house in which they had both been born. Another happening,
+perhaps, as much in the nature of things as Dinah's marriage, although
+the girls could not bring themselves to think so, was their mother's
+marriage to Mr. Lewis Gesner. Tessa remembered her promise to her
+father; she spoke no word against it, and by repeated chidings kept
+Dinah's words and behavior within the limits of deference.
+
+Pretty little Mrs. Wadsworth was a radiant bride, and the bridegroom was
+all that could be desired; Mrs. Wadsworth prudently concealed her
+elation at having married a man richer than Tessa's husband and with a
+residence far handsomer. Mr. Lewis Gesner became the kindest of husbands
+and Miss Gesner was a model sister-in-law.
+
+On her own wedding day, one of Tessa's grateful thoughts was that her
+father would rejoice to know that his "three girls" were in happy homes.
+Miss Jewett's congratulation was a dower in itself: "Your fate was worth
+waiting for, Tessa."
+
+"Another poor man undone through you, Lady Blue," said Mr. Hammerton. "I
+might have known that you were growing up to do it."
+
+"Is Tessa married?" Felix asked in his slow way. "I hope that he will
+take good care of her."
+
+Another happening was the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. John Gesner and son.
+The baby had been born in Germany and could call his own name before he
+came home to Blossom Hill.
+
+The name was a surprise to Tessa: "Theodore, because it has such a
+pretty meaning," Sue told her. "His father wanted John or Lewis, but I
+insisted; I said that I would throw the baby away if I couldn't name
+him!"
+
+She petted him and was proud of his rosy face and bright eyes, but
+confided to Tessa that he was a great deal of trouble, and that she
+hated that everlasting "mamma, mamma."
+
+"I don't understand _you_, Tessa, you treat your little girl as if she
+were a princess."
+
+That afternoon Tessa and the baby were alone on one of the balconies at
+Old Place; baby in her betucked and beruffled white frock and white
+shoes was taking her first steps alone, and baby's mother was kneeling
+before her with both arms out-stretched to receive her after the
+triumph.
+
+Baby's father stood in a window watching them; but for the eyes that,
+just now, were like the woods in October his face would have been
+pronounced grave; the white threads in his hair were beginning to be
+noticeable, and before baby would be old enough to drive all around the
+country with him, his hair would be quite white.
+
+"An earnest man with a purpose in his life," Dunellen said.
+
+"Must you go out again so soon?"
+
+Baby was crowing over her success, and the mother's arms were holding
+her close.
+
+"There's a poor woman with a little baby that I must see to-night."
+
+"A girl-baby?"
+
+"Yes," smiling down at her, "a girl-baby."
+
+"Poor little girl-baby! _Poor_ little girl-baby!" she said, pressing her
+lips to baby's hair.
+
+"What were you thinking when the baby ran into your arms just now?"
+
+"I was thinking," holding the beruffled little figure closer, "that it
+isn't such a hard world, after all, for little girls to grow up in."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tessa Wadsworth's Discipline, by
+Jennie M. Drinkwater
+
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