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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, by Churchill, Complete
+#18 in our series by this Winston Churchill
+
+This author is a cousin of Sir Winston Churchill the Prime Minister
+
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+Title: Coniston by Winston Churchill, Complete
+
+Author: Winston Churchill (a cousin of Sir Winston Churchill)
+
+Official Release Date: February, 2003  [Etext #3766]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 08/14/01]
+[Last modified date = 11/07/01]
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+Edition: 11
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+Language: English
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston by Churchill, Complete
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+file for those who may wish to sample the author's ideas before making an
+entire meal of them.  D.W.]
+
+
+[NOTE: This author is a cousin of Sir Winston Churchill the Prime Minister
+of England during World War II.]
+
+
+
+
+
+CONISTON
+
+By WINSTON CHURCHILL
+
+
+
+     "We have been compelled to see what was weak in democracy as well as
+     what was strong.  We have begun obscurely to recognize that things
+     do not go of themselves, and that popular government is not in
+     itself a panacea, is no better than any other form except as the
+     virtue and wisdom of the people make it so, and that when men
+     undertake to do their own kingship, they enter upon, the dangers and
+     responsibilities as well as the privileges of the function.  Above
+     all, it looks as if we were on the way to be persuaded that no
+     government can be carried on by declamation."
+
+                                   --JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.
+
+
+
+
+CONISTON
+
+
+BOOK I
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+First I am to write a love-story of long ago, of a time some little while
+after General Jackson had got into the White House and had shown the
+world what a real democracy was.  The Era of the first six Presidents had
+closed, and a new Era had begun.  I am speaking of political Eras.
+Certain gentlemen, with a pious belief in democracy, but with a firmer
+determination to get on top, arose,--and got in top.  So many of these
+gentlemen arose in the different states, and they were so clever, and
+they found so many chinks in the Constitution to crawl through and steal
+the people's chestnuts, that the Era may be called the Boss-Era.  After
+the Boss came along certain Things without souls, but of many minds, and
+found more chinks in the Constitution: bigger chinks, for the Things were
+bigger, and they stole more chestnuts.  But I am getting far ahead of my
+love-story--and of my book.
+
+The reader is warned that this first love-story will, in a few chapters,
+come to an end: and not to a happy end--otherwise there would be no book.
+Lest he should throw the book away when he arrives at this page, it is
+only fair to tell him that there is another and a much longer love story
+later on, if he will only continue to read, in which, it is hoped, he may
+not be disappointed.
+
+The hills seem to leap up against the sky as I describe that region where
+Cynthia Ware was born, and the very old country names help to summon up
+the picture.  Coniston Mountain, called by some the Blue Mountain, clad
+in Hercynian forests, ten good miles in length, north and south, with its
+notch road that winds over the saddle behind the withers of it.  Coniston
+Water, that  oozes out from under the loam in a hundred places, on the
+eastern slope, gathers into a rushing stream to cleave the very granite,
+flows southward around the south end of Coniston Mountain, and having
+turned the mills at Brampton, idles through meadows westward in its own
+green valley until it comes to Harwich, where it works again and tumbles
+into a river.  Brampton and Harwich are rivals, but Coniston Water gives
+of its power impartially to each.  From the little farm clearings on the
+western slope of Coniston Mountain you can sweep the broad valley of a
+certain broad river where grew (and grow still) the giant pines that gave
+many a mast to King George's navy as tribute for the land.  And beyond
+that river rises beautiful Farewell Mountain of many colors, now
+sapphire, now amethyst, its crest rimmed about at evening with saffron
+flame; and, beyond Farewell, the emerald billows of the western peaks
+catching the level light.  A dozen little brooks are born high among the
+western spruces on Coniston to score deep, cool valleys in their way
+through Clovelly  township to the broad music of the water and fresh
+river-valleys full of the music of the water and fresh with the odor of
+the ferns.
+
+To this day the railroad has not reached Coniston Village--nay, nor
+Coniston Flat, four miles nearer Brampton.  The village lies on its own
+little shelf under the forest-clad slope of the mountain, and in the
+midst of its dozen houses is the green triangle where the militia used to
+drill on June days.  At one end of the triangle is the great pine mast
+that graced no frigate of George's, but flew the stars and stripes on
+many a liberty day.  Across the road is Jonah Winch's store, with a
+platform so high that a man may step off his horse directly on to it;
+with its checker-paned windows, with its dark interior smelling of coffee
+and apples and molasses, yes, and of Endea rum--for this was before the
+days of the revivals.
+
+How those checker-paned windows bring back the picture of that village
+green!  The meeting-house has them, lantern-like, wide and high, in three
+sashes--white meeting-house, seat alike of government and religion, with
+its terraced steeple, with its classic porches north and south.  Behind
+it is the long shed, and in front, rising out of the milkweed and the
+flowering thistle, the horse block of the first meeting-house, where many
+a pillion has left its burden in times bygone.  Honest Jock Hallowell
+built that second meeting-house--was, indeed, still building it at the
+time of which we write.  He had hewn every beam and king post in it, and
+set every plate and slip.  And Jock Hallowell is the man who, unwittingly
+starts this chronicle.
+
+At noon, on one of those madcap April days of that Coniston country, Jock
+descended from his work on the steeple to perceive the ungainly figure of
+Jethro Bass coming toward him across the green.  Jethro was about thirty
+years of age, and he wore a coonskin cap even in those days, and trousers
+tacked into his boots.  He carried his big head bent forward, a little to
+one aide, and was not, at first sight, a prepossessing-looking person.
+As our story largely concerns him and we must get started somehow, it may
+as well be to fix a little attention on him.
+
+"Heigho!" said Jock, rubbing his hands on his leather apron.
+
+"H-how be you, Jock?" said Jethro, stopping.
+
+"Heigho!" cried Jock, "what's this game of fox and geese you're a-playin'
+among the farmers?"
+
+"C-callate to git the steeple done before frost?" inquired Jethro,
+without so much as a smile.  "B-build it tight, Jock--b-build it tight."
+
+"Guess he'll build his'n tight, whatever it is," said Jock, looking after
+him as Jethro made his way to the little tannery near by.
+
+Let it be known that there was such a thing as social rank in Coniston;
+and something which, for the sake of an advantageous parallel, we may
+call an Established Church.  Coniston was a Congregational town still,
+and the deacons and dignitaries of that church were likewise the pillars
+of the state.  Not many years before the time of which we write actual
+disestablishment had occurred, when the town ceased--as a town--to pay
+the salary of Priest Ware, as the minister was called.  The father of
+Jethro Bass, Nathan the currier, had once, in a youthful lapse, permitted
+a Baptist preacher to immerse him in Coniston Water.  This had been the
+extent of Nathan's religion; Jethro had none at all, and was, for this
+and other reasons, somewhere near the bottom of the social scale.
+
+"Fox and geese!" repeated Jock, with his eyes still on Jethro's
+retreating back.  The builder of the meetinghouse rubbed a great, brown
+arm, scratched his head, and turned and came face to face with Cynthia
+Ware, in a poke bonnet.
+
+Contrast is a favorite trick of authors, and no greater contrast is to be
+had in Coniston than that between Cynthia Ware and Jethro Bass.  In the
+first place; Cynthia was the minister's daughter, and twenty-one.  I can
+summon her now under the great maples of the village street, a virginal
+figure, gray eyes that kindled the face shaded by the poke bonnet, and up
+you went above the clouds.
+
+"What about fox and geese, Jock?" said Cynthia.
+
+"Jethro Bass," said Jock, who, by reason of his ability, was a privileged
+character.  "Mark my words, Cynthy, Jethro Bass is an all-fired sight
+smarter that folks in this town think he be.  They don't take notice of
+him, because he don't say much, and stutters.  He hain't be'n eddicated a
+great deal, but I wouldn't be afeard to warrant he'd make a racket in the
+world some of these days."
+
+"Jock Hallowell!" cried Cynthia, the gray beginning to dance, "I suppose
+you think Jethro's going to be President."
+
+"All right," said Jock, "you can laugh.  Ever talked with Jethro?"
+
+"I've hardly spoken two words to him in my life," she replied.  And it
+was true, although the little white parsonage was scarce two hundred
+yards from the tannery house.
+
+"Jethro's never ailed much," Jock remarked, having reference to Cynthia's
+proclivities for visiting the sick.  "I've seed a good many different men
+in my time, and I tell you, Cynthia Ware, that Jethro's got a kind of
+power you don't often come acrost.  Folks don't suspicion it."
+
+In spite of herself, Cynthia was impressed by the ring of sincerity in
+the builder's voice.  Now that she thought of it, there was rugged power
+in Jethro's face, especially when he took off the coonskin cap.  She
+always nodded a greeting when she saw him in the tannery yard or on the
+road, and sometimes he nodded back, but oftener he had not appeared to
+see her.  She had thought this failure to nod stupidity, but it might
+after all be abstraction.
+
+"What makes you think he has ability?" she asked, picking flowers from a
+bunch of arbutus she held.
+
+"He's rich, for one thing," said Jock.  He had not intended a
+dissertation on Jethro Bass, but he felt bound to defend his statements.
+
+"Rich!"
+
+"Wal, he hain't poor.  He's got as many as thirty mortgages round among
+the farmers--some on land, and some on cattle."
+
+"How did he make the money?" demanded Cynthia, in surprise.
+
+"Hides an' wool an' bark--turned 'em over an' swep' in.  Gits a load, and
+Lyman Hull drives him down to Boston with that six-hoss team.  Lyman gits
+drunk, Jethro keeps sober and saves."
+
+Jock began to fashion some wooden pegs with his adze, for nails were
+scarce in those days.  Still Cynthia lingered, picking flowers from the
+bunch.
+
+"What did you mean by 'fox and geese' Jock?" she said presently.
+
+Jock laughed.  He did not belong to the Establishment, but was a
+Universalist; politically he admired General Jackson.  "What'd you say if
+Jethro was Chairman of the next Board of Selectmen?" he demanded.
+
+No wonder Cynthia gasped.  Jethro Bass, Chairman of the Board, in the
+honored seat of Deacon Moses Hatch, the perquisite of the church in
+Coniston!  The idea was heresy.  As a matter of fact, Jock himself
+uttered it as a playful exaggeration.  Certain nonconformist farmers, of
+whom there were not a few in the town, had come into Jonah Winch's store
+that morning; and Jabez Miller, who lived on the north slope, had taken
+away the breath of the orthodox by suggesting that Jethro Bass be
+nominated for town office.  Jock Hallowell had paused once or twice on
+his work on the steeple to look across the tree-tops at Coniston
+shouldering the sky.  He had been putting two and two together, and now
+he was merely making five out of it, instead of four.  He remembered that
+Jethro Bass had for some years been journeying through the town, baying
+his hides and wool, and collecting the interest on his mortgages.
+
+Cynthia would have liked to reprove Jock Hallowell, and tell him there
+were some subjects which should not be joked about.  Jethro Bass,
+Chairman of the Board of Selectmen!
+
+"Well, here comes, young Moses, I do believe," said Jock, gathering his
+pegs into his apron and preparing to ascend once more.  "Callated he'd
+spring up pretty soon."
+
+"Jock, you do talk foolishly for a man who is able to build a church,"
+said Cynthia, as she walked away.  The young Moses referred to was Moses
+Hatch, Junior, son of the pillar of the Church and State, and it was an
+open secret that he was madly in love with Cynthia.  Let it be said of
+him that he was a steady-going young man, and that he sighed for the
+moon.
+
+"Moses," said the girl, when they came in sight of the elms that, shaded
+the gable of the parsonage, "what do you think of Jethro Bass?"
+
+"Jethro Bass!" exclaimed honest Moses, "whatever put him into your head,
+Cynthy?"  Had she mentioned perhaps, any other young man in Coniston,
+Moses would have been eaten with jealousy.
+
+"Oh, Jock was joking about him.  What do you think of him?"
+
+"Never thought one way or t'other," he answered.  "Jethro never had much
+to do with the boys.  He's always in that tannery, or out buyin' of
+hides.  He does make a sharp bargain when he buys a hide.  We always goes
+shares on our'n."
+
+Cynthia was not only the minister's daughter,--distinction enough,--her
+reputation for learning was spread through the country roundabout, and at
+the age of twenty she had had an offer to teach school in Harwich.  Once
+a week in summer she went to Brampton, to the Social library there, and
+sat at the feet of that Miss Lucretia Penniman of whom Brampton has ever
+been so proud--Lucretia Penniman, one of the first to sound the clarion
+note for the intellectual independence of American women; who wrote the
+"Hymn to Coniston"; who, to the awe of her townspeople, went out into the
+great world and became editress of a famous woman's journal, and knew
+Longfellow and Hawthorne and Bryant.  Miss Lucretia it was who started
+the Brampton Social Library, and filled it with such books as both sexes
+might read with profit.  Never was there a stricter index than hers.
+Cynthia, Miss Lucretia loved, and the training of that mind was the
+pleasantest task of her life.
+
+Curiosity as a factor has never, perhaps, been given its proper weight by
+philosophers.  Besides being fatal to a certain domestic animal, as an
+instigating force it has brought joy and sorrow into the lives of men and
+women, and made and marred careers.  And curiosity now laid hold of
+Cynthia Ware.  Why in the world she should ever have been curious about
+Jethro Bass is a mystery to many, for the two of them were as far apart
+as the poles.  Cynthia, of all people, took to watching the tanner's
+son, and listening to the brief colloquies he had with other men at Jonah
+Winch's store, when she went there to buy things for the parsonage; and
+it seemed to her that Jock had not been altogether wrong, and that there
+was in the man an indefinable but very compelling force.  And when a
+woman begins to admit that a man has force, her curiosity usually
+increases.  On one or two of these occasions Cynthia had been startled to
+find his eyes fixed upon her, and though the feeling she had was closely
+akin to fear, she found something distinctly pleasurable in it.
+
+May came, and the pools dried up, the orchards were pink and white, the
+birches and the maples were all yellow-green on the mountain sides
+against the dark pines, and Cynthia was driving the minister's gig to
+Brampton.  Ahead of her, in the canon made by the road between the great
+woods, strode an uncouth but powerful figure--coonskin cap, homespun
+breeches tucked into boots, and all.  The gig slowed down, and Cynthia
+began to tremble with that same delightful fear.  She knew it must be
+wicked, because she liked it so much.  Unaccountable thing!  She felt all
+akin to the nature about her, and her blood was coursing as the sap
+rushes through a tree.  She would not speak to him; of that she was sure,
+and equally sure that he would not speak to her.  The horse was walking
+now, and suddenly Jethro Bass faced around, and her heart stood still.
+
+"H-how be you, Cynthy?" he asked.
+
+"How do you do, Jethro?"
+
+A thrush in the woods began to sing a hymn, and they listened.  After
+that a silence, save for the notes of answering birds quickened by the
+song, the minister's horse nibbling at the bushes.  Cynthia herself could
+not have explained why she lingered.  Suddenly he shot a question at her.
+
+"Where be you goin'?"
+
+"To Brampton, to get Miss Lucretia to change this book," and she held it
+up from her lap.  It was a very large book.
+
+"Wh-what's it about," he demanded.
+
+"Napoleon Bonaparte."
+
+"Who was be?"
+
+"He was a very strong man.  He began life poor and unknown, and fought
+his way upward until he conquered the world."
+
+"C-conquered the world, did you say?  Conquered the world?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Jethro pondered.
+
+"Guess there's somethin' wrong about that book--somethin' wrong.  Conquer
+the United States?"
+
+Cynthia smiled.  She herself did not realize that we were not a part of
+the world, then.
+
+"He conquered Europe; where all the kings and queens are, and became a
+king himself--an emperor."
+
+"I want to-know!" said Jethro.  "You said he was a poor boy?"
+
+"Why don't you read the book, Jethro?" Cynthia answered.  "I am sure I
+can get Miss Lucretia to let you have it."
+
+"Don't know as I'd understand it," he demurred.
+
+"I'll try to explain what you don't understand," said Cynthia, and her
+heart gave a bound at the very idea.
+
+"Will You?" he said, looking at her eagerly.  "Will you?  You mean it?"
+
+"Certainly," she answered, and blushed, not knowing why.  "I-I must be
+going," and she gathered up the reins.
+
+"When will you give it to me?"
+
+"I'll stop at the tannery when I come back from Brampton," she said, and
+drove on.  Once she gave a fleeting glance over her shoulder, and he was
+still standing where she had left him.
+
+When she returned, in the yellow afternoon light that flowed over wood
+and pasture, he came out of the tannery door.  Jake Wheeler or Speedy
+Bates, the journeyman tailoress, from whom little escaped, could not have
+said it was by design--thought nothing, indeed, of that part of it.
+
+"As I live!" cried Speedy from the window to Aunt Lucy Prescott in the
+bed, "if Cynthy ain't givin' him a book as big as the Bible!"
+
+Aunt Lucy hoped, first, that it was the Bible, and second, that Jethro
+would read it.  Aunt Lucy, and Established Church Coniston in general,
+believed in snatching brands from the burning, and who so deft as Cynthia
+at this kind of snatching!  So Cynthia herself was a hypocrite for once,
+and did not know it.  At that time Jethro's sins were mostly of omission.
+As far as rum was concerned, he was a creature after Aunt Lucy's own
+heart, for he never touched it: true, gaunt Deacon Ira Perkins, tithing-
+man, had once chided him for breaking the Sabbath--shooting at a fox.
+
+To return to the book.  As long as he lived, Jethro looked back to the
+joy of the monumental task of mastering its contents.  In his mind,
+Napoleon became a rough Yankee general; of the cities, villages, and
+fortress he formed as accurate a picture as a resident of Venice from
+Marco Polo's account of Tartary.  Jethro had learned to read, after a
+fashion, to write, add, multiply, and divide.  He knew that George
+Washington and certain barefooted companions had forced a proud Britain
+to her knees, and much of the warring in the book took color from Captain
+Timothy Prescott's stories of General Stark and his campaigns, heard at
+Jonah Winch's store.  What Paris looked like, or Berlin, or the Hospice
+of St. Bernard--though imaged by a winter Coniston--troubled Jethro not
+at all; the thing that stuck in his mind was that Napoleon--for a
+considerable time, at least--compelled men to do his bidding.
+Constitutions crumble before the Strong.  Not that Jethro philosophized
+about constitutions.  Existing conditions presented themselves, and it
+occurred to him that there were crevices in the town system, and ways
+into power through the crevices for men clever enough to find them.
+
+A week later, and in these same great woods on the way to Brampton,
+Cynthia overtook him once more.  It was characteristic of him that he
+plunged at once into the subject uppermost in his mind.
+
+"Not a very big place, this Corsica--not a very big place."
+
+"A little island in the Mediterranean," said Cynthia.
+
+"Hum.  Country folks, the Bonapartes--country folks?"
+
+Cynthia laughed.
+
+"I suppose you might call them so," she said.  "They were poor, and lived
+out of the world."
+
+"He was a smart man.  But he found things goin' his way.  Didn't have to
+move 'em."
+
+"Not at first;" she admitted; "but he had to move mountains later.  How
+far have you read?"
+
+"One thing that helped him," said Jethro, in indirect answer to this
+question, "he got a smart woman for his wife--a smart woman."
+
+Cynthia looked down at the reins in her lap, and she felt again that
+wicked stirring within her,--incredible stirring of minister's daughter
+for tanner's son.  Coniston believes, and always will believe, that the
+social bars are strong enough.  So Cynthia looked down at the reins.
+
+"Poor Josephine!" she said, "I always wish he had not cast her off."
+
+"C-cast her off?" said Jethro.  "Cast her off!  Why did he do that?"
+
+"After a while, when he got to be Emperor, he needed a wife who would be
+more useful to him.  Josephine had become a drag.  He cared more about
+getting on in the world than he did about his wife."
+
+Jethro looked away contemplatively.
+
+"Wa-wahn't the woman to blame any?" he said.
+
+"Read the book, and you'll see," retorted Cynthia, flicking her horse,
+which started at all gaits down the road.  Jethro stood in his tracks,
+staring, but this time he did not see her face above the hood of the gig.
+Presently he trudged on, head downward, pondering upon another problem
+than Napoleon's.  Cynthia, at length, arrived in Brampton Street, in a
+humor that puzzled the good Miss Lucretia sorely.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+The sun had dropped behind the mountain, leaving Coniston in amethystine
+shadow, and the last bee had flown homeward from the apple blossoms in
+front of Aunt Lucy Prescott's window, before Cynthia returned.  Aunt Lucy
+was Cynthia's grandmother, and eighty-nine years of age.  Still she sat
+in her window beside the lilac bush, lost in memories of a stout, rosy
+lass who had followed a stalwart husband up a broad river into the
+wilderness some seventy years agone in Indian days--Weathersfield
+Massacre days.  That lass was Aunt Lucy herself, and in just such a May
+had Timothy's axe rung through the Coniston forest and reared the log
+cabin, where six of her children were born.  Likewise in review passed
+the lonely months when Timothy was fighting behind his rugged General
+Stark for that privilege more desirable to his kind than life--self
+government.  Timothy Prescott would pull the forelock to no man, would
+have such God-fearing persons as he chose make his laws for him.
+
+Honest Captain Timothy and his Stark heroes, Aunt Lucy and her memories,
+have long gone to rest.  Little did they dream of the nation we have
+lived to see, straining at her constitution like a great ship at anchor
+in a gale, with funnels belching forth smoke, and a new race of men
+thronging her decks for the mastery.  Coniston is there still behind its
+mountain, with its rusty firelocks and its hillside graves.
+
+Cynthia, driving back from Brampton in the gig, smiled at Aunt Lucy in
+the window, but she did not so much as glance at the tannery house
+farther on.  The tannery house, be it known, was the cottage where Jethro
+dwelt, and which had belonged to Nathan, his father; and the tannery
+sheds were at some distance behind it, nearer Coniston Water.  Cynthia
+did not glance at the tannery house, for a wave of orthodox indignation
+had swept over her: at any rate, we may call it so.  In other words, she
+was angry with herself: pitied and scorned herself, if the truth be told,
+for her actions--an inevitable mood.
+
+In front of the minister's barn under the elms on the hill Cynthia pulled
+the harness from the tired horse with an energy that betokened activity
+of mind.  She was not one who shrank from self-knowledge, and the
+question put itself to her, "Whither was this matter tending?"  The fire
+that is in strong men has ever been a lure to women; and many, meaning to
+play with it, have been burnt thereby since the world began.  But to turn
+the fire.  to some use, to make the world better for it or stranger for
+it, that were an achievement indeed!  The horse munching his hay, Cynthia
+lingered as the light fainted above the ridge, with the thought that this
+might be woman's province, and Miss Lucretia Penniman might go on leading
+her women regiments to no avail.  Nevertheless she was angry with Jethro,
+not because of what he had said, but because of what he was.
+
+The next day is Sunday, and there is mild excitement in Coniston.  For
+Jethro Bass, still with the coonskin cap, but in a brass-buttoned coat
+secretly purchased in Brampton, appeared at meeting!  It made no
+difference that he entered quietly, and sat in the rear slip, orthodox
+Coniston knew that he was behind them: good Mr. Ware knew it, and changed
+a little his prayers and sermon: Cynthia knew it, grew hot and cold by
+turns under her poke bonnet.  Was he not her brand, and would she not get
+the credit of snatching him?  How willingly, then, would she have given
+up that credit to the many who coveted it--if it were a credit.  Was
+Jethro at meeting for any religious purpose?
+
+Jethro's importance to Coniston lay in his soul, and that soul was
+numbered at present ninety and ninth.  When the meeting was over, Aunt
+Lucy Prescott hobbled out at an amazing pace to advise him to read
+chapter seven of Matthew, but he had vanished: via the horse sheds; if
+she had known it, and along Coniston Water to the house by the tannery,
+where he drew breath in a state of mind not to be depicted.  He had gazed
+at the back of Cynthia's poke bonnet for two hours, but he had an uneasy
+feeling that he would have to pay a price.
+
+The price was paid, in part, during the next six days.  To do
+Jethro's importance absolute justice, he did inspire fear among his
+contemporaries, and young men and women did not say much to his face;
+what they did say gave them little satisfaction.  Grim Deacon Ira stopped
+him as he was going to buy hides, and would have prayed over him if
+Jethro had waited; dear Aunt Lucy did pray, but in private.  In six days
+orthodox Coniston came to the conclusion that this ninety and ninth soul
+were better left to her who had snatched it, Cynthia Ware.
+
+As for Cynthia, nothing was farther from her mind.  Unchristian as was
+the thought, if this thing she had awakened could only have been put back
+to sleep again, she would have thought herself happy.  But would she have
+been happy?  When Moses Hatch congratulated her, with more humor than
+sincerity, he received the greatest scare of his life.  Yet in those days
+she welcomed Moses's society as she never had before; and Coniston,
+including Moses himself, began thinking of a wedding.
+
+Another Saturday came, and no Cynthia went to Brampton.  Jethro may or
+may not have been on the road.  Sunday, and there was Jethro on the back
+seat in the meetinghouse: Sunday noon, over his frugal dinner, the
+minister mildly remonstrates with Cynthia for neglecting one who has
+shown signs of grace, citing certain failures of others of his
+congregation: Cynthia turns scarlet, leaving the minister puzzled and a
+little uneasy: Monday, Miss Lucretia Penniman, alarmed, comes to Coniston
+to inquire after Cynthia's health: Cynthia drives back with her as far as
+Four Corners, talking literature and the advancement of woman; returns on
+foot, thinking of something else, when she discerns a figure seated on a
+log by the roadside, bent as in meditation.  There was no going back the
+thing to do was to come on, as unconcernedly as possible, not noticing
+anything,--which Cynthia did, not without a little inward palpitating and
+curiosity, for which she hated herself and looked the sterner.  The
+figure unfolded itself, like a Jack from a box.
+
+"You say the woman wahn't any to blame--wahn't any to blame?"
+
+The poke bonnet turned away.  The shoulders under it began to shake, and
+presently the astonished Jethro heard what seemed to be faint peals of
+laughter.  Suddenly she turned around to him, all trace of laughter gone.
+
+"Why don't you read the book?"
+
+"So I am," said Jethro, "so I am.  Hain't come to this casting-off yet."
+
+"And you didn't look ahead to find out?" This with scorn.
+
+"Never heard of readin' a book in that fashion.  I'll come to it in time-
+-g-guess it won't run away."
+
+Cynthia stared at him, perhaps with a new interest at this plodding
+determination.  She was not quite sure that she ought to stand talking to
+him a third time in these woods, especially if the subject of
+conversation were not, as Coniston thought, the salvation of his soul.
+But she stayed.  Here was a woman who could be dealt with by no known
+rules, who did not even deign to notice a week of marked coldness.
+
+"Jethro," she said, with a terrifying sternness, "I am going to ask you a
+question, and you must answer me truthfully."
+
+"G-guess I won't find any trouble about that," said Jethro, apparently
+not in the least terrified.
+
+"I want you to tell me why you are going to meeting."
+
+"To see you," said Jethro, promptly, "to see you."
+
+"Don't you know that that is wrong?"
+
+"H-hadn't thought much about it," answered Jethro.
+
+"Well, you should think about it.  People don't go to meeting to--to look
+at other people."
+
+"Thought they did," said Jethro.  "W-why do they wear their best clothes
+--why do they wear their best clothes?"
+
+"To honor God," said Cynthia, with a shade lacking in the conviction, for
+she added hurriedly: "It isn't right for you to go to church to see--
+anybody.  You go there to hear the Scriptures expounded, and to have your
+sins forgiven.  Because I lent you that book, and you come to meeting,
+people think I'm converting you."
+
+"So you be," replied Jethro, and this time it was he who smiled, "so you
+be."
+
+Cynthia turned away, her lips pressed together: How to deal with such a
+man!  Wondrous notes broke on the stillness, the thrush was singing his
+hymn again, only now it seemed a paean.  High in the azure a hawk
+wheeled, and floated.
+
+"Couldn't you see I was very angry with you?"
+
+"S-saw you was goin' with Moses Hatch more than common."
+
+Cynthia drew breath sharply.  This was audacity--and yet she liked it.
+
+"I am very fond of Moses," she said quickly.
+
+"You always was charitable, Cynthy," said he.
+
+"Haven't I been charitable to you?" she retorted.
+
+"G-guess it has be'n charity," said Jethro.  He looked down at her
+solemnly, thoughtfully, no trace of anger in his face, turned, and
+without another word strode off in the direction of Coniston Flat.
+
+He left a tumultuous Cynthia, amazement and repentance struggling with
+anger, which forbade her calling him back: pride in her answering to
+pride in him, and she rejoicing fiercely that he had pride.  Had he but
+known it, every step he took away from her that evening was a step in
+advance, and she gloried in the fact that he did not once look back.  As
+she walked toward Coniston, the thought came to her that she was rid of
+the thing she had stirred up, perhaps forever, and the thrush burst into
+his song once more.
+
+That night, after Cynthia's candle had gone out, when the minister sat on
+his doorsteps looking at the glory of the moon on the mountain forest, he
+was startled by the sight of a figure slowly climbing toward him up the
+slope.  A second glance told him that it was Jethro's.  Vaguely troubled,
+he watched his approach; for good Priest Ware, while able to obey one-
+half the scriptural injunction, had not the wisdom of the serpent, and
+women, as typified by Cynthia, were a continual puzzle to him. That very
+evening, Moses Hatch had called, had been received with more favor than
+usual, and suddenly packed off about his business.  Seated in the
+moonlight, the minister wondered vaguely whether Jethro Bass were
+troubling the girl.  And now Jethro stood before him, holding out a book.
+Rising, Mr. Ware bade him good evening, mildly and cordially.
+
+"C-come to leave this book for Cynthy," said Jethro.
+
+Mr. Ware took it, mechanically.
+
+"Have you finished it?" he asked kindly.
+
+"All I want," replied Jethro, "all I want."
+
+He turned, and went down the slope.  Twice the words rose to the
+minister's lips to call him back, and were suppressed.  Yet what to say
+to him if he came?  Mr. Ware sat down again, sadly wondering why Jethro
+Bass should be so difficult to talk to.
+
+The parsonage was of only one story, with a steep, sloping roof.  On the
+left of the doorway was Cynthia's room, and the minister imagined he
+heard a faint, rustling noise at her window. Presently he arose, barred
+the door; could be heard moving.  around in his room for a while, and
+after that all was silence save for the mournful crying of a whippoorwill
+in the woods.  Then a door opened softly, a white vision stole into the
+little entry lighted by the fan-window, above, seized the book and stole
+back.  Had the minister been a prying man about his household, he would
+have noticed next day that Cynthia's candle was burned down to the
+socket.  He saw nothing of the kind: he saw, in fact, that his daughter
+flitted about the house singing, and he went out into the sun to drop
+potatoes.
+
+No sooner had he reached the barn than this singing ceased.  But how was
+Mr. Ware to know that?
+
+Twice Cynthia, during the week that followed, got halfway down the slope
+of the parsonage hill, the book under her arm, on her way to the tannery;
+twice went back, tears of humiliation and self-pity in her eyes at the
+thought that she should make advances to a man, and that man the tanner's
+son.  Her household work done, a longing for further motion seized her,
+and she walked out under the maples of the village street.  Let it be
+understood that Coniston was a village, by courtesy, and its shaded road
+a street.  Suddenly, there was the tannery, Jethro standing in front of
+it, contemplative.  Did he see her?  Would he come to her?  Cynthia,
+seized by a panic of shame, flew into Aunt Lucy Prescott's, sat through
+half an hour of torture while Aunt Lucy talked of redemption of sinners,
+during ten minutes of which Jethro stood, still contemplative.  What
+tumult was in his breast, or whether there was any tumult, Cynthia knew
+not.  He went into the tannery again, and though she saw him twice later
+in the week, he gave no sign of seeing her.
+
+On Saturday Cynthia bought a new bonnet in Brampton; Sunday morning put
+it on, suddenly remembered that one went to church to honor God, and wore
+her old one; walked to meeting in a flutter of expectancy not to be
+denied, and would have looked around had that not been a cardinal sin in
+Coniston.  No Jethro!  General opinion (had she waited to hear it among
+the horse sheds or on the green), that Jethro's soul had slid back into
+the murky regions, from which it were folly for even Cynthia to try to
+drag it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+To prove that Jethro's soul had not slid back into the murky regions, and
+that it was still indulging in flights, it is necessary to follow him
+(for a very short space) to Boston.  Jethro himself went in Lyman Hull's
+six-horse team with a load of his own merchandise--hides that he had
+tanned, and other country produce.  And they did not go by the way of
+Truro Pass to the Capital, but took the state turnpike over the ranges,
+where you can see for miles and miles and miles on a clear summer day
+across the trembling floors of the forest tops to lonely sentinel
+mountains fourscore miles away.
+
+No one takes the state turnpike nowadays except crazy tourists who are
+willing to risk their necks and their horses' legs for the sake of
+scenery.  The tough little Morgans of that time, which kept their feet
+like cats, have all but disappeared, but there were places on that road
+where Lyman Hull put the shoes under his wheels for four miles at a
+stretch.  He was not a companion many people would have chosen with whom
+to enjoy the beauties of such a trip, and nearly everybody in Coniston
+was afraid of him.  Jethro Bass would sit silent on the seat for hours
+and--it is a fact to be noted that when he told Lyman to do a thing,
+Lyman did it; not, perhaps, without cursing and grumbling.  Lyman was a
+profane and wicked man--drover, farmer, trader, anything.  He had a cider
+mill on his farm on the south slopes of Coniston which Mr. Ware had
+mentioned in his sermons, and which was the resort of the ungodly.  The
+cider was not so  good as Squire Northcutt's, but cheaper.  Jethro was
+not afraid of Lyman, and he had a mortgage on the six-horse team, and on
+the farm and the cider mill.
+
+After six days, Jethro and Lyman drove over Charlestown bridge and into
+the crooked streets of Boston, and at length arrived at a drover's hotel,
+or lodging-house that did not, we may be sure, front on Mount Vernon
+Street or face the Mall.  Lyman proceeded to get drunk, and Jethro to
+sell the hides and other merchandise which Lyman had hauled for him.
+
+There was a young man in Boston, when Jethro arrived in Lyman Hull's
+team, named William Wetherell.  By extraordinary circumstances he and
+another connected with him are to take no small part in this story, which
+is a sufficient excuse for his introduction.  His father had been a
+prosperous Portsmouth merchant in the West India trade, a man of many
+attainments, who had failed and died of a broken heart; and William, at
+two and twenty, was a clerk in the little jewellery shop of Mr. Judson in
+Cornhill.
+
+William Wetherell had literary aspirations, and sat from morning till
+night behind the counter, reading and dreaming: dreaming that he was to
+be an Irving or a Walter Scott, and yet the sum total of his works in
+after years consisted of some letters to the Newcastle Guardian, and a
+beginning of the Town History of Coniston!
+
+William had a contempt for the awkward young countryman who suddenly
+loomed up before him that summer's morning across the counter.  But a
+moment before the clerk had been in a place where he would fain have
+lingered--a city where blue waters flow swiftly between white palaces
+toward the sunrise.
+
+         "And I have fitted up some chambers there
+          Looking toward the golden Eastern air,
+          And level with the living winds, which flow
+          Like waves above the living waves below."
+
+Little did William Wetherell guess, when he glanced up at the intruder,
+that he was looking upon one of the forces of his own life!  The
+countryman wore a blue swallow tail coat (fashioned by the hand of Speedy
+Bates), a neck-cloth, a coonskin cap, and his trousers were tucked into
+rawhide boots.  He did not seem a promising customer for expensive
+jewellery, and the literary clerk did not rise, but merely closed his
+book with his thumb in it.
+
+"S-sell things here," asked the countryman, "s-sell things here?"
+
+"Occasionally, when folks have money to buy them."
+
+"My name's Jethro Bass," said the countryman, "Jethro Bass from Coniston.
+Ever hear of Coniston?"
+
+Young Mr. Wetherell never had, but many years afterward he remembered his
+name, heaven knows why.  Jethro Bass!  Perhaps it had a strange ring to
+it.
+
+"F-folks told me to be careful," was Jethro's next remark.  He did not
+look at the clerk, but kept his eyes fixed on the things within the
+counter.
+
+"Somebody ought to have come with you," said the clerk, with a smile of
+superiority.
+
+"D-don't know much about city ways."
+
+"Well," said the clerk, beginning to be amused, "a man has to keep his
+wits about him."
+
+Even then Jethro spared him a look, but continued to study the contents
+of the case.
+
+"What can I do for you, Mr. Bass?  We have some really good things here.
+For example, this Swiss watch, which I will sell you cheap, for one
+hundred and fifty dollars."
+
+"One hundred and fifty dollars--er--one hundred and fifty?"
+
+Wetherell nodded.  Still the countryman did not look up.
+
+"F-folks told me to be careful," he repeated without a smile.  He was
+looking at the lockets, and finally pointed a large finger at one of
+them--the most expensive, by the way.  "W-what d'ye get for that?" he
+asked.
+
+"Twenty dollars," the clerk promptly replied.  Thirty was nearer the
+price, but what did it matter.
+
+"H-how much for that?" he said, pointing to another.  The clerk told him.
+He inquired about them all, deliberately repeating the sums, considering
+with so well-feigned an air of a purchaser that Mr. Wetherell began to
+take a real joy in the situation.  For trade was slack in August, and
+diversion scarce.  Finally he commanded that the case be put on the top
+of the counter, and Wetherell humored him.  Whereupon he picked up the
+locket he had first chosen.  It looked very delicate in his huge, rough
+hand, and Wetherell was surprised that the eyes of Mr. Bass had been
+caught by the most expensive, for it was far from being the showiest.
+
+"T-twenty dollars?" he asked.
+
+"We may as well call it that," laughed Wetherell.
+
+"It's not too good for Cynthy," he said.
+
+"Nothing's too good for Cynthy," answered Mr. Wetherell, mockingly,
+little knowing how he might come to mean it.
+
+Jethro Bass paid no attention to this speech.  Pulling a great cowhide
+wallet from his pocket, still holding the locket in his hand, to the
+amazement of the clerk he counted out twenty dollars and laid them down.
+
+"G-guess I'll take that one, g-guess I'll take that one," he said.
+
+Then he looked at Mr. Wetherell for the first time.
+
+"Hold!" cried the clerk, more alarmed than he cared to show, "that's not
+the price.  Did you think I could sell it for that price?"
+
+"W-wahn't that the price you fixed?"
+
+"You simpleton!" retorted Wetherell, with a conviction now that he was
+calling him the wrong name.  "Give me back the locket, and you shall have
+your money, again."
+
+"W-wahn't that the price you fixed?"
+
+"Yes, but--"
+
+"G-guess I'll keep the locket--g-guess I'll keep the locket."
+
+Wetherell looked at him aghast, and there was no doubt about his
+determination.  With a sinking heart the clerk realized that he should
+have to make good to Mr. Judson the seven odd dollars of difference, and
+then he lost his head.  Slipping round the counter to the door of the
+shop, he turned the key, thrust it in his pocket, and faced Mr. Bass
+again--from behind the counter.
+
+"You don't leave this shop," cried the clerk, "until you give me back
+that locket."
+
+Jethro Bass turned.  A bench ran along the farther wall, and there he
+planted himself without a word, while the clerk stared at him,--with what
+feelings of uneasiness I shall not attempt to describe,--for the customer
+was plainly determined to wait until hunger should drive one of them
+forth.  The minutes passed, and Wetherell began to hate him.  Then some
+one tried the door, peered in through the glass, perceived Jethro, shook
+the knob, knocked violently, all to no purpose.  Jethro seemed lost in a
+reverie.
+
+"This has gone far enough," said the clerk, trying to keep his voice from
+shaking  "it is beyond a joke.  Give me back the locket."  And he
+tendered Jethro the money again.
+
+"W-wahn't that the price you fixed?" asked Jethro, innocently.
+
+Wetherell choked.  The man outside shook the door again, and people on
+the sidewalk stopped, and presently against the window panes a sea of
+curious faces gazed in upon them.  Mr. Bass's thoughts apparently were
+fixed on Eternity--he looked neither at the people nor at Wetherell.  And
+then, the crowd parting as for one in authority, as in a bad dream the
+clerk saw his employer, Mr. Judson, courteously pushing away the customer
+at the door who would not be denied.  Another moment, and Mr. Judson had
+gained admittance with his private key, and stood on the threshold
+staring at clerk and customer.  Jethro gave no sign that the situation
+had changed.
+
+"William," said Mr. Judson, in a dangerously quiet voice, "perhaps you
+can explain this extraordinary state of affairs."
+
+"I can, sir," William cried.  "This gentleman" (the word stuck in his
+throat), "this gentleman came in here to examine lockets which I had no
+reason to believe he would buy.  I admit my fault, sir.  He asked the
+price of the most expensive, and I told him twenty dollars, merely for a
+jest, sir."  William hesitated.
+
+"Well?" said Mr. Judson.
+
+"After pricing every locket in the case, he seized the first one, handed
+me twenty dollars, and now refuses to give it up, although he knows the
+price is twenty-seven."
+
+"Then?"
+
+"Then I locked the door, sir.  He sat down there, and hasn't moved
+since."
+
+Mr. Judson looked again at Mr. Bass; this time with unmistakable
+interest.  The other customer began to laugh, and the crowd was pressing
+in, and Mr. Judson turned and shut the door in their faces.  All this
+time Mr. Bass had not moved, not so much as to lift his head or shift one
+of his great cowhide boots.
+
+"Well, sir," demanded Mr. Judson, "what have you to say?"
+
+"N-nothin'.  G-guess I'll keep the locket.  I've, paid for it--I've paid
+for it."
+
+"And you are aware, my friend," said Mr. Judson, "that my clerk has given
+you the wrong price?"
+
+"Guess that's his lookout."  He still sat there, doggedly unconcerned.
+
+A bull would have seemed more at home in a china shop than Jethro Bass in
+a jewellery store.  But Mr. Judson himself was a man out of the ordinary,
+and instead of getting angry he began to be more interested.
+
+"Took you for a greenhorn, did he?" he remarked.
+
+"F-folks told me to be careful--to be careful," said Mr. Bass.
+
+Then Mr. Judson laughed.  It was all the more disconcerting to William
+Wetherell, because his employer laughed rarely.  He laid his hand on
+Jethro's shoulder.
+
+"He might have spared himself the trouble, my young friend," he said.
+"You didn't expect to find a greenhorn behind a jewellery counter, did
+you?"
+
+"S-surprised me some," said Jethro.
+
+Mr. Judson laughed again, all the while looking at him.
+
+"I am going to let you keep the locket," he said, "because it will teach
+my greenhorn a lesson.  William, do you hear that?"
+
+"Yes, sir," William said, and his face was very red.
+
+Mr. Bass rose solemnly, apparently unmoved by his triumph in a somewhat
+remarkable transaction, and William long remembered how he towered over
+all of them.  He held the locket out to Mr. Judson, who stared at it,
+astonished.
+
+"What's this?" said that gentleman; "you don't want it?"
+
+"Guess I'll have it marked," said Jethro, "ef it don't cost extry."
+
+"Marked!" gasped Mr. Judson, "marked!"
+
+"Ef it don't cost extry," Jethro repeated.
+
+"Well, I'll--" exclaimed Mr. Judson, and suddenly recalled the fact that
+he was a church member.  "What inscription do you wish put into it?" he
+asked, recovering himself with an effort.
+
+Jethro thrust his hand into his pocket, and again the cowhide wallet came
+out.  He tendered Mr. Judson a somewhat soiled piece of paper, and Mr.
+Judson read:--
+
+               "Cynthy, from Jethro"
+
+"Cynthy," Mr. Judson repeated, in a tremulous voice, "Cynthy, not
+Cynthia."
+
+"H-how is it written," said Jethro, leaning over it, "h-how is it
+written?"
+
+"Cynthy," answered Mr. Judson, involuntarily.
+
+"Then make it Cynthy--make it Cynthy."
+
+"Cynthy it shall be," said Mr. Judson, with conviction.
+
+"When'll you have it done?"
+
+"To-night," replied Mr. Judson, with a twinkle in his eye, "to-night, as
+a special favor."
+
+"What time--w-what time?"
+
+"Seven o'clock, sir.  May I send it to your hotel?  The Tremont House, I
+suppose?"
+
+"I-I'll call," said Jethro, so solemnly that Mr. Judson kept his laughter
+until he was gone.
+
+From the door they watched him silently as he strode across the street
+and turned the corner.  Then Mr. Judson turned.  "That man will make his
+mark, William," he said; and added thoughtfully, "but whether for good or
+evil, I know not."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+What Cynthia may have thought or felt during Jethro's absence in Boston,
+and for some months thereafter, she kept to herself.  Honest Moses Hatch
+pursued his courting untroubled, and never knew that he had a rival.
+Moses would as soon have questioned the seasons or the weather as
+Cynthia's changes of moods,--which were indeed the weather for him, and
+when storms came he sat with his back to them, waiting for the sunshine.
+He had long ceased proposing marriage, in the firm belief that Cynthia
+would set the day in her own good time.  Thereby he was saved much
+suffering.
+
+The summer flew on apace, for Coniston.  Fragrant hay was cut on
+hillsides won from rock and forest, and Coniston Water sang a gentler
+melody--save when the clouds floated among the spruces on the mountain
+and the rain beat on the shingles.  During the still days before the turn
+of the year,--days of bending fruit boughs, crab-apples glistening red in
+the soft sunlight,--rumor came from Brampton to wrinkle the forehead of
+Moses Hatch as he worked among his father's orchards.
+
+The rumor was of a Mr. Isaac Dudley Worthington, a name destined to make
+much rumor before it was to be carved on the marble.  Isaac D.
+Worthington, indeed, might by a stretch of the imagination be called the
+pioneer of all the genus to be known in the future as City Folks, who
+were, two generations later, to invade the country like a devouring army
+of locusts.
+
+At that time a stranger in Brampton was enough to set the town agog.  But
+a young man of three and twenty, with an independent income of four
+hundred dollars a year!--or any income at all not derived from his own
+labor--was unheard of.  It is said that when the stage from over Truro
+Gap arrived in Brampton Street a hundred eyes gazed at him unseen, from
+various ambushes, and followed him up the walk to Silas Wheelock's, where
+he was to board.  In half an hour Brampton knew the essentials of Isaac
+Worthington's story, and Sam Price was on his way with it to Coniston for
+distribution at Jonah Winch's store.
+
+Young Mr. Worthington was from Boston--no less; slim, pale, medium
+height, but with an alert look, and a high-bridged nose.  But his
+clothes!  Sam Price's vocabulary was insufficient here, they were cut in
+such a way, and Mr. Worthington was downright distinguished-looking under
+his gray beaver.  Why had he come to Brampton? demanded Deacon Ira
+Perkins.  Sam had saved this for the last.  Young Mr. Worthington was
+threatened with consumption, and had been sent to live with his distant
+relative, Silas Wheelock.
+
+The presence of a gentleman of leisure--although threatened with
+consumption--became an all-absorbing topic in two villages and three
+hamlets, and more than one swain, hitherto successful, felt the wind blow
+colder.  But in a fortnight it was known that a petticoat did not make
+Isaac Worthington even turn his head.  Curiosity centred on Silas
+Wheelock's barn, where Mr. Worthington had fitted up a shop, and,
+presently various strange models of contrivances began to take shape
+there.  What these were, Silas himself knew not; and the gentleman of
+leisure was, alas! close-mouthed.  When he was not sawing and hammering
+and planing, he took long walks up and down Coniston Water, and was
+surprised deep in thought at several places.
+
+Nathan Bass's story-and-a-half house, devoid of paint, faced the road,
+and behind it was the shed, or barn, that served as the tannery, and
+between the tannery and Coniston Water were the vats.  The rain flew in
+silvery spray, and the drops shone like jewels on the coat of a young man
+who stood looking in at the tannery door.  Young Jake Wheeler, son of the
+village spendthrift, was driving a lean white horse round in a ring: to
+the horse was attached a beam, and on the beam a huge round stone rolled
+on a circular oak platform.  Jethro Bass, who was engaged in pushing
+hemlock bark under the stone to be crushed, straightened.  Of the three,
+the horse had seen the visitor first, and stopped in his tracks.
+
+"Jethro!" whispered Jake, tingling with an excitement that was but
+natural.  Jethro had begun to sweep the finer pieces of bark toward the
+centre.  "It's the city man, walked up here from Brampton."
+
+It was indeed Mr. Worthington, slightly more sunburned and less citified-
+looking than on his arrival, and he wore a woollen cap of Brampton make.
+Even then, despite his wavy hair and delicate appearance, Isaac
+Worthington had the hawk-like look which became famous in later years,
+and at length he approached Jethro and fixed his eye upon him.
+
+"Kind of slow work, isn't it?" remarked Mr. Worthington.
+
+The white horse was the only one to break the silence that followed, by
+sneezing with all his might.
+
+"How is the tannery business in these parts?" essayed Mr. Worthington
+again.
+
+"Thinkin' of it?" said Jethro.  "T-thinkin' of it, be you?"
+
+"No, answered Mr. Worthington, hastily.  "If I were," he added, "I'd put
+in new machinery.  That horse and stone is primitive."
+
+"What kind of machinery would you put in?" asked Jethro.
+
+"Ah," answered Worthington, "that will interest you.  All New Englanders
+are naturally progressive, I take it."
+
+"W-what was it you took?"
+
+"I was merely remarking on the enterprise of New Englanders," said
+Worthington, flushing.  "On my journey up here, beside the Merrimac, I
+had the opportunity to inspect the new steam-boiler, the falling-mill,
+the splitting machine, and other remarkable improvements.  In fact, these
+suggested one or two little things to me, which might be of interest to
+you."
+
+Well," said Jethro, "they might, and then again they mightn't.  Guess it
+depends."
+
+"Depends!" exclaimed the man of leisure, "depends on what?"
+
+"H-how much you know about it."
+
+Young Mr. Worthington, instead of being justly indignant, laughed and
+settled himself comfortably on a pile of bark.  He thought Jethro a
+character, and he was not mistaken.  On the other hand, Mr. Worthington
+displayed a knowledge of the falling-mill and splitting-machine and the
+process of tanneries in general that was surprising.  Jethro, had Mr.
+Worthington but known it, was more interested in animate machines: more
+interested in Mr. Worthington than the falling-mill or, indeed, the
+tannery business.
+
+At length the visitor fell silent, his sense of superiority suddenly
+gone.  Others had had this same feeling with Jethro, even the minister;
+but the man of leisure (who was nothing of the sort) merely felt a kind
+of bewilderment.
+
+"Callatin' to live in Brampton--be you?" asked Jethro.
+
+"I am living there now."
+
+"C-callatin' to set up a mill some day?"
+
+Mr. Worthington fairly leaped off the bark pile.
+
+"What makes you say that?" he demanded.
+
+"G-guesswork," said Jethro, starting to shovel again, "g-guesswork."
+
+To take a walk in the wild, to come upon a bumpkin in cowhide boots
+crushing bark, to have him read within twenty minutes a cherished and
+well-hidden ambition which Brampton had not discovered in a month (and
+did not discover for many years) was sufficiently startling.  Well might
+Mr. Worthington tremble for his other ambitions, and they were many.
+
+Jethro stepped out, passing Mr. Worthington as though he had already
+forgotten that gentleman's existence, and seized an armful of bark that
+lay under cover of a lean-to.  Just then, heralded by a brightening of
+the western sky, a girl appeared down the road, her head bent a little as
+in thought, and if she saw the group by the tannery house she gave no
+sign.  Two of them stared at her--Jake Wheeler and Mr. Worthington.
+Suddenly Jake, implike, turned and stared at Worthington.
+
+"Cynthy Ware, the minister's daughter," he said.
+
+"Haven't I seen her in Brampton?" inquired Mr. Worthington, little
+thinking of the consequences of the question.
+
+"Guess you have," answered Jake.  "Cynthy goes to the Social Library, to
+git books.  She knows more'n the minister himself, a sight more."
+
+"Where does the minister live?" asked Mr. Worthington.
+
+Jake pulled him by the sleeve toward the road, and pointed to the low
+gable of the little parsonage under the elms on the hill beyond the
+meeting-house.  The visitor gave a short glance at it, swung around and
+gave a longer glance at the figure disappearing in the other direction.
+He did not suspect that Jake was what is now called a news agency.  Then
+Mr. Worthington turned to Jethro, who was stooping over the bark.
+
+"If you come to Brampton, call and see me," he said.  "You'll find me at
+Silas Wheelock's."
+
+He got no answer, but apparently expected none, and he started off down
+the Brampton road in the direction Cynthia had taken.
+
+"That makes another," said Jake, significantly, "and Speedy Bates says he
+never looks at wimmen.  Godfrey, I wish I could see Moses now."
+
+Mr. Worthington had not been quite ingenuous with Jake.  To tell the
+truth, he had made the acquaintance of the Social Library and Miss
+Lucretia, and that lady had sung the praises of her favorite.  Once out
+of sight of Jethro, Mr. Worthington quickened his steps, passed the
+store, where he was remarked by two of Jonah's customers, and his blood
+leaped when he saw the girl in front of him, walking faster now.  Yes, it
+is a fact that Isaac Worthington's blood once leaped.  He kept on, but
+when near her had a spasm of fright to make his teeth fairly chatter, and
+than another spasm followed, for Cynthia had turned around.
+
+"How do you do Mr. Worthington?" she said, dropping him a little
+courtesy.  Mr. Worthington stopped in his tracks, and it was some time
+before he remembered to take off his woollen cap and sweep the mud with
+it.
+
+"You know my name!" he exclaimed.
+
+"It is known from Tarleton Four Corners to Harwich," said Cynthia, "all
+that distance.  To tell the truth," she added, "those are the boundaries
+of my world."  And Mr. Worthington being still silent, "How do you like
+being a big frog in a little pond?"
+
+"If it were your pond, Miss Cynthia," he responded gallantly, "I should
+be content to be a little frog."
+
+"Would you?" she said; "I don't believe you."
+
+This was not subtle flattery, but the truth--Mr. Worthington would never
+be content to be a little anything.  So he had been judged twice in an
+afternoon, once by Jethro and again by Cynthia.
+
+"Why don't you believe me?" he asked ecstatically.
+
+"A woman's instinct, Mr. Worthington, has very little reason in it."
+
+"I hear, Miss Cynthia," he said gallantly, "that your instinct is
+fortified by learning, since Miss Penniman tells me that you are quite
+capable of taking a school in Boston."
+
+"Then I should be doubly sure of your character," she retorted with a
+twinkle.
+
+"Will you tell my fortune?" he said gayly.
+
+"Not on such a slight acquaintance," she replied.  "Good-by, Mr.
+Worthington."
+
+"I shall see you in Brampton," he cried, "I--I have seen you in
+Brampton."
+
+She did not answer this confession, but left him, and presently
+disappeared beyond the triangle of the green, while Mr. Worthington
+pursued his way to Brampton by the road,--his thoughts that evening not
+on waterfalls or machinery.  As for Cynthia's conduct, I do not defend or
+explain it, for I have found out that the best and wisest of women can at
+times be coquettish.
+
+It was that meeting which shook the serenity of poor Moses, and he
+learned of it when he went to Jonah Winch's store an hour later.  An hour
+later, indeed, Coniston was discussing the man of leisure in a new light.
+It was possible that Cynthia might take him, and Deacon Ira Perkins made
+a note the next time he went to Brampton to question Silas Wheelock on
+Mr. Worthington's origin, habits, and orthodoxy.
+
+Cynthia troubled herself very little about any of these.  Scarcely any
+purpose in the world is single, but she had had a purpose in talking to
+Mr. Worthington, besides the pleasure it gave her.  And the next
+Saturday, when she rode off to Brampton, some one looked through the
+cracks in the tannery shed and saw that she wore her new bonnet.
+
+There is scarcely a pleasanter place in the world than Brampton Street on
+a summer's day.  Down the length of it runs a wide green, shaded by
+spreading trees, and on either side, tree-shaded, too, and each in its
+own little plot, gabled houses of that simple, graceful architecture of
+our forefathers.  Some of these had fluted pilasters and cornices, the
+envy of many a modern architect, and fan-shaped windows in dormer and
+doorway.  And there was the church, then new, that still stands to the
+glory of its builders; with terraced steeple and pillared porch and the
+widest of checker-paned sashes to let in the light on high-backed pews
+and gallery.
+
+The celebrated Social Library, halfway up the street, occupied part of
+Miss Lucretia's little house; or, it might better be said, Miss Lucretia
+boarded with the Social Library.  There Cynthia hitched her horse, gave
+greeting to Mr. Ezra Graves and others who paused, and, before she was
+fairly in the door, was clasped in Miss Lucretia's arms.  There were new
+books to be discussed, arrived by the stage the day before; but scarce
+half an hour had passed before Cynthia started guiltily at a timid knock,
+and Miss Lucretia rose briskly.
+
+"It must be Ezra Graves come for the Gibbon," she said.  "He's early."
+And she went to the door.  Cynthia thought it was not Ezra.  Then came
+Miss Lucretia's voice from the entry:--
+
+"Why, Mr. Worthington! Have you read the Last of the Mohicans already?"
+
+There he stood, indeed, the man of leisure, and to-day he wore his beaver
+hat.  No, he had not yet read the 'Last of the Mohicans.'  There were
+things in it that Mr. Worthington would like to discuss with Miss
+Penniman.  Was it not a social library?  At this juncture there came a
+giggle from within that made him turn scarlet, and he scarcely heard Miss
+Lucretia offering to discuss the whole range of letters.  Enter Mr.
+Worthington, bows profoundly to Miss Lucretia's guest, his beaver in his
+hand, and the discussion begins, Cynthia taking no part in it.  Strangely
+enough, Mr. Worthington's remarks on American Indians are not only
+intelligent, but interesting.  The clock strikes four, Miss Lucretia
+starts up, suddenly remembering that she has promised to read to an
+invalid, and with many regrets from Mr. Worthington, she departs.  Then
+he sits down again, twirling his beaver, while Cynthia looks at him in
+quiet amusement.
+
+"I shall walk to Coniston again, next week," he announced.
+
+"What an energetic man!" said Cynthia.
+
+"I want to have my fortune told."
+
+"I hear that you walk a great deal," she remarked, "up and down Coniston
+Water.  I shall begin to think you romantic, Mr. Worthington--perhaps a
+poet."
+
+"I don't walk up and down Coniston Water for that reason," he answered
+earnestly.
+
+"Might I be so bold as to ask the reason?" she ventured.
+
+Great men have their weaknesses.  And many, close-mouthed with their own
+sex, will tell their cherished hopes to a woman, if their interests are
+engaged.  With a bas-relief of Isaac Worthington in the town library to-
+day (his own library), and a full-length portrait of him in the capitol
+of the state, who shall deny this title to greatness?
+
+He leaned a little toward her, his face illumined by his subject, which
+was himself.
+
+"I will confide in you," he said, "that some day I shall build here in
+Brampton a woollen mill which will be the best of its kind.  If I gain
+money, it will not be to hoard it or to waste it.  I shall try to make
+the town better for it, and the state, and I shall try to elevate my
+neighbors."
+
+Cynthia could not deny that these were laudable ambitions.
+
+"Something tells me," he continued, "that I shall succeed.  And that is
+why I walk on Coniston Water--to choose the best site for a dam."
+
+"I am honored by your secret, but I feel that the responsibility you
+repose in me is too great," she said.
+
+"I can think of none in whom I would rather confide," said he.
+
+"And am I the only one in all Brampton, Harwich, and Coniston who knows
+this?" she asked.
+
+Mr. Worthington laughed.
+
+"The only one of importance," he answered.  "This week, when I went to
+Coniston, I had a strange experience.  I left the brook at a tannery, and
+a most singular fellow was in the shed shovelling bark.  I tried to get
+him to talk, and told him about some new tanning machinery I had seen.
+Suddenly he turned on me and asked me if I was 'callatin' to set up a
+mill.'  He gave me a queer feeling.  Do you have many such odd characters
+in Coniston, Miss Cynthia?  You're not going?"
+
+Cynthia had risen, and all of the laugher was gone from her eyes.  What
+had happened to make her grow suddenly grave, Isaac Worthington never
+knew.
+
+"I have to get my father's supper," she said.
+
+He, too, rose, puzzled and disconcerted at this change in her.
+
+"And may I not come to Coniston?" he asked.
+
+"My father and I should be glad to see you, Mr. Worthington," she
+answered.
+
+He untied her horse and essayed one more topic.
+
+"You are taking a very big book," he said.  "May I look at the title?"
+
+She showed it to him in silence.  It was the "Life of Napoleon
+Bonaparte."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+Isaac Worthington came to Coniston not once, but many times, before the
+snow fell; and afterward, too, in Silas Wheelock's yellow sleigh through
+the great drifts under the pines, the chestnut Morgan trotting to one
+side in the tracks.  On one of these excursions he fell in with that
+singular character of a bumpkin who had interested him on his first
+visit, in coonskin cap and overcoat and mittens.  Jethro Bass was
+plodding in the same direction, and Isaac Worthington, out of the
+goodness of his heart, invited him into the sleigh.  He was scarcely
+prepared for the bumpkin's curt refusal, but put it down to native
+boorishness, and thought no more about it then.
+
+What troubled Mr. Worthington infinitely more was the progress of his
+suit; for it had become a snit, though progress is a wrong word to use in
+connection with it.  So far had he got,--not a great distance,--and then
+came to what he at length discovered was a wall, and apparently
+impenetrable.  He was not even allowed to look over it.  Cynthia was
+kind, engaging; even mirthful, at times, save when he approached it; and
+he became convinced that a certain sorrow lay in the forbidden ground.
+The nearest he had come to it was when he mentioned again, by accident,
+that life of Napoleon.
+
+That Cynthia would accept him, nobody doubted for an instant.  It would
+be madness not to.  He was orthodox, so Deacon Ira had discovered, of
+good habits, and there was the princely four hundred a year--almost a
+minister's salary!  Little people guessed that there was no love-making--
+only endless discussions of books beside the great centre chimney, and
+discussions of Isaac Worthington's career.
+
+It is a fact--for future consideration--that Isaac Worthington proposed
+to Cynthia Ware, although neither Speedy Bates nor Deacon Ira Perkins
+heard him do so.  It had been very carefully prepared, that speech, and
+was a model of proposals for the rising young men of all time.  Mr.
+Worthington preferred to offer himself for what he was going to be--not
+for what he was.  He tendered to Cynthia a note for a large amount,
+payable in some twenty years, with interest.  The astonishing thing to
+record is that in twenty years he could have more than paid the note,
+although he could not have foreseen at that time the Worthington Free
+Library and the Truro Railroad, and the stained-glass window in the
+church and the great marble monument on the hill--to another woman.  All
+of these things, and more, Cynthia might have had if she had only
+accepted that promise to pay!  But she did not accept it.  He was a
+trifle more robust than when he came to Brampton in the summer, but
+perhaps she doubted his promise to pay.
+
+It may have been guessed, although the language we have used has been
+purposely delicate, that Cynthia was already in love with--somebody else.
+Shame of shames and horror of horrors--with Jethro Bass!  With Strength,
+in the crudest form in which it is created, perhaps, but yet with
+Strength.  The strength might gradually and eventually be refined.  Such
+was her hope, when she had any.  It is hard, looking back upon that
+virginal and cultured Cynthia, to be convinced that she could have loved
+passionately, and such a man!  But love she did, and passionately, too,
+and hated herself for it, and prayed and struggled to cast out what she
+believed, at times, to be a devil.
+
+The ancient allegory of Cupid and the arrows has never been improved
+upon: of Cupid, who should never in the world have been trusted with a
+weapon, who defies all game laws, who shoots people in the bushes and
+innocent bystanders generally, the weak and the helpless and the strong
+and self-confident!  There is no more reason in it than that.  He shot
+Cynthia Ware, and what she suffered in secret Coniston never guessed.
+What parallels in history shall I quote to bring home the enormity of
+such a mesalliance?  Orthodox Coniston would have gone into sackcloth and
+ashes,--was soon to go into these, anyway.
+
+I am not trying to keep the lovers apart for any mere purposes of
+fiction,--this is a true chronicle, and they stayed apart most of that
+winter.  Jethro went about his daily tasks, which were now become
+manifold, and he wore the locket on its little chain himself.  He did not
+think that Cynthia loved him--yet, but he had the effrontery to believe
+that she might, some day; and he was content to wait.  He saw that she
+avoided him, and he was too proud to go to the parsonage and so incur
+ridicule and contempt.
+
+Jethro was content to wait.  That is a clew to his character throughout
+his life.  He would wait for his love, he would wait for his hate: he had
+waited ten years before putting into practice the first step of a little
+scheme which he had been gradually developing during that time, for which
+he had been amassing money, and the life of Napoleon Bonaparte, by the
+way, had given him some valuable ideas.  Jethro, as well as Isaac D.
+Worthington, had ambitions, although no one in Coniston had hitherto
+guessed them except Jock Hallowell--and Cynthia Ware, after her curiosity
+had been aroused.
+
+Even as Isaac D. Worthington did not dream of the Truro Railroad and of
+an era in the haze of futurity, it did not occur to Jethro Bass that his
+ambitions tended to the making of another era that was at hand.  Makers
+of eras are too busy thinking about themselves and like immediate matters
+to worry about history.  Jethro never heard the expression about "cracks
+in the Constitution," and would not have known what it meant,--he merely
+had the desire to get on top.  But with Established Church Coniston tight
+in the saddle (in the person of Moses Hatch, Senior), how was he to do
+it?
+
+As the winter wore on, and March town meeting approached, strange rumors
+of a Democratic ticket began to drift into Jonah Winch's store,--a
+Democratic ticket headed by Fletcher Bartlett, of all men, as chairman of
+the board.  Moses laughed when he first heard of it, for Fletcher was an
+easy-going farmer of the Methodist persuasion who was always in debt, and
+the other members of the ticket, so far as Moses could learn of it--were
+remarkable neither for orthodoxy or solidity.  The rumors persisted, and
+still Moses laughed, for the senior selectman was a big man with flesh on
+him, who could laugh with dignity.
+
+"Moses," said Deacon Lysander Richardson as they stood on the platform of
+the store one sunny Saturday in February, "somebody's put Fletcher up to
+this.  He hain't got sense enough to act that independent all by
+himself."
+
+"You be always croakin', Lysander," answered Moses.
+
+Cynthia Ware, who had come to the store for buttons for Speedy Bates, who
+was making a new coat for the minister, heard these remarks, and stood
+thoughtfully staring at the blue coat-tails of the elders.  A brass
+button was gone from Deacon Lysander's, and she wanted to sew it on.
+Suddenly she looked up, and saw Jock Hallowell standing beside her.  Jock
+winked--and Cynthia blushed and hurried homeward without a word.  She
+remembered, vividly enough, what Jack had told her the spring before, and
+several times during the week that followed she thought of waylaying him
+and asking what he knew.  But she could not summon the courage.  As a
+matter of fact, Jock knew nothing, but he had a theory.  He was a strange
+man, Jock, who whistled all day on roof and steeple and meddled with
+nobody's business, as a rule.  What had impelled him to talk to Cynthia
+in the way he had must remain a mystery.
+
+Meanwhile the disquieting rumors continued to come in.  Jabez Miller, on
+the north slope, had told Samuel Todd, who told Ephraim Williams, that he
+was going to vote for Fletcher.  Moses Hatch hitched up his team and went
+out to see Jabez, spent an hour in general conversation, and then plumped
+the question, taking, as he said, that means of finding out.  Jabez
+hemmed and hawed, said his farm was mortgaged; spoke at some length about
+the American citizen, however humble, having a right to vote as he chose.
+A most unusual line for Jabez, and the whole matter very mysterious and
+not a little ominous.  Moses drove homeward that sparkling day, shutting
+his eyes to the glare of the ice crystals on the pines, and thinking
+profoundly.  He made other excursions, enough to satisfy himself that
+this disease, so new and unheard of (the right of the unfit to hold
+office), actually existed.  Where the germ began that caused it, Moses
+knew no better than the deacon, since those who were suspected of
+leanings toward Fletcher Bartlett were strangely secretive.  The
+practical result of Moses' profound thought was a meeting, in his own
+house, without respect to party, Democrats and Whigs alike, opened by a
+prayer from the minister himself.  The meeting, after a futile session,
+broke up dismally.  Sedition and conspiracy existed; a chief offender and
+master mind there was, somewhere.  But who was he?
+
+Good Mr. Ware went home, troubled in spirit, shaking his head.  He had a
+cold, and was not so strong as he used to be, and should not have gone to
+the meeting at all.  At supper, Cynthia listened with her eyes on her
+plate while he told her of the affair.
+
+"Somebody's behind this, Cynthia," he said.  "It's the most astonishing
+thing in my experience that we cannot discover who has incited them.  All
+the unattached people in the town seem to have been organized."  Mr. Ware
+was wont to speak with moderation even at his own table.  He said
+unattached--not ungodly.
+
+Cynthia kept her eyes on her plate, but she felt as though her body were
+afire.  Little did the minister imagine, as he went off to write his
+sermon, that his daughter might have given him the clew to the mystery.
+Yes, Cynthia guessed; and she could not read that evening because of the
+tumult of her thoughts.  What was her duty in the matter?  To tell her
+father her suspicions?  They were only suspicions, after all, and she
+could make no accusations.  And Jethro!  Although she condemned him,
+there was something in the situation that appealed to a most
+reprehensible sense of humor.  Cynthia caught herself smiling once or
+twice, and knew that it was wicked.  She excused Jethro, and told herself
+that, with his lack of training, he could know no better.  Then an idea
+came to her, and the very boldness of it made her grow hot again.  She
+would appeal to him tell him that that power he had over other men could
+be put to better and finer uses.  She would appeal to him, and he would
+abandon the matter.  That the man loved her with the whole of his rude
+strength she was sure, and that knowledge had been the only salve to her
+shame.
+
+So far we have only suspicions ourselves; and, strange to relate, if we
+go around Coniston with Jethro behind his little red Morgan, we shall
+come back with nothing but--suspicions.  They will amount to convictions,
+yet we cannot prove them.  The reader very naturally demands some
+specific information--how did Jethro do it?  I confess that I can only
+indicate in a very general way: I can prove nothing.  Nobody ever could
+prove anything against Jethro Bass.  Bring the following evidence before
+any grand jury in the country, and see if they don't throw it out of
+court.
+
+Jethro in the course of his weekly round of strictly business visits
+throughout the town, drives into Samuel Todd's farmyard, and hitches on
+the sunny side of the red barns.  The town of Coniston, it must be
+explained for the benefit of those who do not understand the word "town"
+in the New England senses was a tract of country about ten miles by ten,
+the most thickly settled portion of which was the village of Coniston,
+consisting of twelve houses.  Jethro drives into the barnyard, and Samuel
+Todd comes out.  He is a little man, and has a habit of rubbing the sharp
+ridge of his nose.
+
+"How be you, Jethro?" says Samuel.  "Killed the brindle Thursday.  Finest
+hide you ever seed."
+
+"G-goin' to town meetin' Tuesday--g-goin' to town meetin' Tuesday--
+Sam'l?" says Jethro.
+
+"I was callatin' to, Jethro."
+
+"Democrat--hain't ye--Democrat?"
+
+"Callate to be."
+
+"How much store do ye set by that hide?"
+
+Samuel rubs his nose.  Then he names a price that the hide might fetch,
+under favorable circumstances, in Boston--Jethro does not wince.
+
+"Who d'ye callate to vote for, Sam'l?"
+
+Samuel rubs his nose.
+
+"Heerd they was a-goin' to put up Fletcher and Amos Cuthbert, an' Sam
+Price for Moderator."  (What a convenient word is they when used
+politically!)  "Hain't made up my mind, clear," says Samuel.
+
+"C-comin' by the tannery after town meetin'?" inquired Jethro, casually.
+
+"Don't know but what I kin."
+
+"F-fetch the hide--f-fetch the hide."
+
+And Jethro drives off, with Samuel looking after him, rubbing his nose.
+"No bill," says the jury--if you can get Samuel into court.  But you
+can't.  Even Moses Hatch can get nothing out of Samuel, who then talks
+Jacksonian principles and the nights of an American citizen.
+
+Let us pursue this matter a little farther, and form a committee of
+investigation.  Where did Mr. Todd learn anything about Jacksonian
+principles?  From Mr. Samuel Price, whom they have spoken of for
+Moderator.  And where did Mr. Price learn of these principles?  Any one
+in Coniston will tell you that Mr. Price makes a specialty of orators and
+oratory; and will hold forth at the drop of a hat in Jonah Winch's store
+or anywhere else.  Who is Mr. Price?  He is a tall, sallow young man of
+eight and twenty, with a wedge-shaped face, a bachelor and a Methodist,
+who farms in a small way on the southern slope, and saves his money.  He
+has become almost insupportable since they have named him for Moderator.
+
+Get Mr. Sam Price into court.  Here is a man who assuredly knows who they
+are: if we are, not much mistaken, he is their mouthpiece.  Get, an eel
+into court.  There is only one man in town who can hold an eel, and he
+isn't on the jury.  Mr. Price will talk plentifully, in his nasal way;
+but he won't tell you anything.
+
+Mr. Price has been nominated to fill Deacon Lysander Richardson's shoes
+in the following manner: One day in the late autumn a man in a coonskin
+cap stops beside Mr. Price's woodpile, where Mr. Price has been chopping
+wood, pausing occasionally to stare off through the purple haze at the
+south shoulder of Coniston Mountain.
+
+"How be you, Jethro?" says Mr. Price, nasally.
+
+"D-Democrats are talkin' some of namin' you Moderator next meetin'," says
+the man in the coonskin cap.
+
+"Want to know!" ejaculates Mr. Price, dropping the axe and straightening
+up in amazement.  For Mr. Price's ambition soared no higher, and he had
+made no secret of it.  "Wal!  Whar'd you hear that, Jethro?"
+
+"H-heerd it round--some.  D-Democrat--hain't you--Democrat?"
+
+"Always callate to be."
+
+"J-Jacksonian Democrat?"
+
+"Guess I be."
+
+Silence for a while, that Mr. Price may feel the gavel in his hand, which
+he does.
+
+"Know somewhat about Jacksonian principles, don't ye--know somewhat?"
+
+Callate to," says Mr. Price, proudly.
+
+"T-talk 'em up, Sam--t-talk 'em up.  C-canvass, Sam."
+
+With these words of brotherly advice Mr. Bass went off down the road, and
+Mr. Price chopped no more wood that night; but repeated to himself many
+times in his nasal voice, "I want to know!"  In the course of the next
+few weeks various gentlemen mentioned to Mr. Price that he had been
+spoken of for Moderator, and he became acquainted with the names of the
+other candidates on the same mysterious ticket who were mentioned.
+Whereupon he girded up his loins and went forth and preached the word of
+Jacksonian Democracy in all the farmhouses roundabout, with such effect
+that Samuel Todd and others were able to talk with some fluency about the
+rights of American citizens.
+
+Question before the Committee, undisposed of: Who nominated Samuel Price
+for Moderator?  Samuel Price gives the evidence, tells the court he does
+not know, and is duly cautioned and excused.
+
+Let us call, next, Mr. Eben Williams, if we can.  Moses Hatch, Senior,
+has already interrogated him with all the authority of the law and the
+church, for Mr. Williams is orthodox, though the deacons have to remind
+him of his duty once in a while.  Eben is timid, and replies to us, as to
+Moses, that he has heard of the Democratic ticket, and callates that
+Fletcher Bartlett, who has always been the leader of the Democratic
+party, has named the ticket.  He did not mention Jethro Bass to Deacon
+Hatch.  Why should he?  What has Jethro Bass got to do with politics?
+
+Eben lives on a southern spur, next to Amos Cuthbert, where you can look
+off for forty miles across the billowy mountains of the west.  From no
+spot in Coniston town is the sunset so fine on distant Farewell Mountain,
+and Eben's sheep feed on pastures where only mountain-bred sheep can
+cling and thrive.  Coniston, be it known, at this time is one of the
+famous wool towns of New England: before the industry went West, with
+other industries.  But Eben Williams's sheep do not wholly belong to him
+they are mortgaged--and Eben's farm is mortgaged.
+
+Jethro Bass--Eben testifies to us--is in the habit of visiting him once a
+month, perhaps, when he goes to Amos Cuthbert's.  Just friendly calls.
+Is it not a fact that Jethro Bass holds his mortgage?  Yes, for eight
+hundred dollars.  How long has he held that mortgage?  About a year and a
+half.  Has the interest been paid promptly?  Well, the fact is that Eben
+hasn't paid any interest yet.
+
+Now let us take the concrete incident.  Before that hypocritical thaw
+early in February, Jethro called upon Amos Cuthbert--not so surly then as
+he has since become--and talked about buying his wool when it should be
+duly cut, and permitted Amos to talk about the position of second
+selectman, for which some person or persons unknown to the jury had
+nominated him.  On his way down to the Four Corners, Jethro had merely
+pulled up his sleigh before Eben Williams's house, which stood behind a
+huge snow bank and practically on the road.  Eben appeared at the door, a
+little dishevelled in hair and beard, for he had been sleeping.
+
+"How be you, Jethro?" he said nervously.  Jethro nodded.
+
+"Weather looks a mite soft."
+
+No answer.
+
+"About that interest," said Eben, plunging into the dread subject, "don't
+know as I'm ready this month after all."
+
+"G-goin' to town meetin', Eben?"
+
+"Wahn't callatin' to," answered Eben.
+
+"G-goin' to town meetin', Eben?"
+
+Eben, puzzled and dismayed, ran his hand through his hair.
+
+"Wahn't callatin' to--but I kin--I kin."
+
+"D-Democrat--hain't ye--D-Democrat?"
+
+"I kin be," said Eben.  Then he looked at Jethro and added in a startled
+voice, "Don't know but what I be--Yes, I guess I be."
+
+"H-heerd the ticket?"
+
+Yes, Eben had heard the ticket.  What man had not.  Some one has been
+most industrious, and most disinterested, in distributing that ticket.
+
+"Hain't a mite of hurry about the interest right now--right now," said
+Jethro.  "M-may be along the third week in March--may be--c-can t tell."
+
+And Jethro clucked to his horse, and drove away.  Eben Williams went back
+into his house and sat down with his head in his hands.  In about two
+hours, when his wife called him to fetch water, he set down the pail on
+the snow and stared across the next ridge at the eastern horizon,
+whitening after the sunset.
+
+The third week in March was the week after town meeting!
+
+"M-may be--c-can't tell," repeated Eben to himself, unconsciously
+imitating Jethro's stutter.  "Godfrey, I'll hev to git that ticket
+straight from Amos."
+
+Yes, we may have our suspicions.  But how can we get a bill on this
+evidence?  There are some thirty other individuals in Coniston whose
+mortgages Jethro holds, from a horse to a house and farm.  It is not
+likely that they will tell Beacon Hatch, or us; that they are going to
+town meeting and vote for that fatherless ticket because Jethro Bass
+wishes them to do so.  And Jethro has never said that he wishes them to.
+If so, where are your witnesses?  Have we not come back to our starting-
+point, even as Moses Hatch drove around in a circle..  And we have the
+advantage over Moses, for we suspect somebody, and he did not know whom
+to suspect.  Certainly not Jethro Bass, the man that lived under his nose
+and never said anything--and had no right to.  Jethro Bass had never
+taken any active part in politics, though some folks had heard, in his
+rounds on business, that he had discussed them, and had spread the news
+of the infamous ticket without a parent.  So much was spoken of at the
+meeting over which Priest Ware prayed.  It was even declared that, being
+a Democrat, Jethro might have influenced some of those under obligations
+to him.  Sam Price was at last fixed upon as the malefactor, though
+people agreed that they had not given him credit for so much sense, and
+Jacksonian principles became as much abhorred by the orthodox as the
+spotted fever.
+
+We can call a host of other witnesses if we like, among them cranky,
+happy-go-lucky Fletcher Bartlett, who has led forlorn hopes in former
+years.  Court proceedings make tiresome reading, and if those who have
+been over ours have not arrived at some notion of the simple and innocent
+method of the new Era of politics note dawning--they never will.  Nothing
+proved.  But here is part of the ticket which nobody started:--
+
+          For
+
+          SENIOR SELECTMAN, FLETCHER BARTLETT.
+
+          (Farm and buildings on Thousand Acre Hill mortgaged to Jethro
+          Bass.)
+
+          SECOND SELECTMAN, AMOS CUTHBERT.
+
+          (Farm and buildings on Town's End Ridge mortgaged to Jethro
+          Bass.)
+
+          THIRD SELECTMAN, CHESTER PERKINS.
+
+          (Sop of some kind to the Established Church party.  Horse and
+          cow mortgaged to Jethro Bass, though his father, the tithing-
+          man, doesn't know it.)
+
+          MODERATOR, SAMUEL PRICE.
+
+          (Natural ambition--dove of oratory and Jacksonian principles.)
+
+          etc., etc.
+
+The notes are mine, not Moses's.  Strange that they didn't occur to
+Moses.  What a wealthy man has our hero become at thirty-one! Jethro Bass
+was rich beyond the dreams of avarice--for Coniston.  Truth compels me to
+admit that the sum total of all his mortgages did not amount to nine
+thousand "dollars"; but that was a large sum of money for Coniston in
+those days, and even now.  Nathan Bass had been a saving man, and had
+left to his son one-half of this fortune.  If thrift and the ability to
+gain wealth be qualities for a hero, Jethro had them--in those days.
+
+The Sunday before March meeting, it blew bitter cold, and Priest Ware,
+preaching in mittens, denounced sedition in general.  Underneath him, on
+the first landing of the high pulpit, the deacons sat with knitted brows,
+and the key-note from Isaiah Prescott's pitch pipe sounded like mournful
+echo of the mournful wind without.
+
+Monday was ushered in with that sleet storm to which the almanacs still
+refer, and another scarcely less important event occurred that day which
+we shall have to pass by for the present; on Tuesday, the sleet still
+raging, came the historic town meeting.  Deacon Moses Hatch, his chores
+done and his breakfast and prayers completed, fought his way with his
+head down through a white waste to the meeting-house door, and unlocked
+it, and shivered as he made the fire.  It was certainly not good election
+weather, thought Moses, and others of the orthodox persuasion, high in
+office, were of the same opinion as they stood with parted coat tails
+before the stove.  Whoever had stirred up and organized the hordes,
+whoever was the author of that ticket of the discontented, had not
+counted upon the sleet.  Heaven-sent sleet, said Deacon Ira Perkins, and
+would not speak to his son Chester, who sat down just then in one of the
+rear slips.  Chester had become an agitator, a Jacksonian Democrat, and
+an outcast, to be prayed for but not spoken to.
+
+We shall leave them their peace of mind for half an hour more, those
+stanch old deacons and selectmen, who did their duty by their fellow-
+citizens as they saw it and took no man's bidding.  They could not see
+the trackless roads over the hills, now becoming tracked, and the bent
+figures driving doggedly against the storm, each impelled by a motive:
+each motive strengthened by a master mind until it had become imperative.
+Some, like Eben Williams behind his rickety horse, came through fear;
+others through ambition; others were actuated by both; and still others
+were stung by the pain of the sleet to a still greater jealousy and envy,
+and the remembrance of those who had been in power.  I must not omit the
+conscientious Jacksonians who were misguided enough to believe in such a
+ticket.
+
+The sheds were not large enough to hold the teams that day.  Jethro's
+barn and tannery were full, and many other barns in the village.  And now
+the peace of mind of the orthodox is a thing of the past.  Deacon
+Lysander Richardson, the moderator, sits aghast in his high place as they
+come trooping in, men who have not been to town meeting for ten years.
+Deacon Lysander, with his white band of whiskers that goes around his
+neck like a sixteenth-century ruff under his chin, will soon be a memory.
+Now enters one, if Deacon Lysander had known it symbolic of the new Era.
+One who, though his large head is bent, towers over most of the men who
+make way for him in the aisle, nodding but not speaking, and takes his
+place in the chair under the platform on the right of the meeting-pause
+under one of the high, three-part windows.  That chair was always his in
+future years, and there he sat afterward, silent, apparently taking no
+part.  But not a man dropped a ballot into the box whom Jethro Bass did
+not see and mark.
+
+And now, when the meeting-house is crowded as it has never been before,
+when Jonah Winch has arranged his dinner booth in the corner, Deacon
+Lysander raps for order and the minister prays.  They proceed, first, to
+elect a representative to the General  Court.  The Jacksonians do not
+contest that seat,--this year,--and Isaiah Prescott, fourteenth child of
+Timothy, the Stark hero, father of a young Ephraim whom we shall hear
+from later, is elected.  And now!  Now for a sensation, now for disorder
+and misrule!
+
+"Gentlemen," says Deacon Lysander, "you will prepare your ballots for the
+choice of the first Selectman."
+
+The Whigs have theirs written out, Deacon Moses Hatch.  But who has
+written out these others that are being so assiduously passed around?
+Sam Price, perhaps, for he is passing them most assiduously.  And what
+name is written on them?  Fletcher Bartlett, of course; that was on the
+ticket.  Somebody is tricked again.  That is not the name on the ticket.
+Look over Sara Price's shoulder and you will see the name--Jethro Bass.
+
+It bursts from the lips of Fletcher Bartlett himself--of Fletcher,
+inflammable as gunpowder.
+
+"Gentlemen, I withdraw as your candidate, and nominate a better and an
+abler man,--Jethro Bass."
+
+"Jethro Bass for Chairman of the Selectmen!"
+
+The cry is taken up all over the meeting-house, and rises high above the
+hiss of the sleet on the great windows.  Somebody's got on the stove, to
+add to the confusion and horror.  The only man in the whole place who is
+not excited is Jethro Bass himself, who sits in his chair regardless of
+those pressing around him.  Many years afterward he confessed to some one
+that he was surprised--and this is true.  Fletcher Bartlett had surprised
+and tricked him, but was forgiven.  Forty men are howling at the
+moderator, who is pounding on the table with a blacksmith's blows.
+Squire Asa Northcutt, with his arms fanning like a windmill from the edge
+of the platform, at length shouts down everybody else--down to a hum.
+Some listen to him: hear the words "infamous outrage"--"if Jethro Bass is
+elected Selectman, Coniston will never be able to hold up her head among
+her sister towns for very shame."  (Momentary blank, for somebody has got
+on the stove again, a scuffle going on there.)  "I see it all now," says
+the Squire--(marvel of perspicacity!) "Jethro Bass has debased and
+debauched this town--" (blank again, and the squire points a finger of
+rage and scorn at the unmoved offender in the chair) "he has bought and
+intimidated men to do his bidding.  He has sinned against heaven, and
+against the spirit of that most immortal of documents--" (Blank again.
+Most unfortunate blank, for this is becoming oratory, but somebody from
+below has seized the squire by the leg.) Squire Northcutt is too
+dignified and elderly a person to descend to rough and tumble, but he did
+get his leg liberated and kicked Fletcher Bartlett in the face.  Oh,
+Coniston, that such scenes should take place in your town meeting!  By
+this time another is orating, Mr. Sam Price, Jackson Democrat.  There was
+no shorthand reporter in Coniston in those days, and it is just as well,
+perhaps, that the accusations and recriminations should sink into
+oblivion.
+
+At last, by mighty efforts of the peace loving in both parties, something
+like order is restored, the ballots are in the box, and Deacon Lysander
+is counting them: not like another moderator I have heard of, who spilled
+the votes on the floor until his own man was elected.  No.  Had they
+registered his own death sentence, the deacon would have counted them
+straight, and needed no town clerk to verify his figures.  But when he
+came to pronounce the vote, shame and sorrow and mortification overcame
+him.  Coniston, his native town, which he had served and revered, was
+dishonored, and it was for him, Lysander Richardson, to proclaim her
+disgrace.  The deacon choked, and tears of bitterness stood in his eyes,
+and there came a silence only broken by the surging of the sleet as he
+rapped on the table.
+
+"Seventy-five votes have been cast for Jethro Bass--sixty-three for Moses
+Hatch.  Necessary for a choice, seventy--and Jethro Bass is elected
+senior Selectman."
+
+The deacon sat down, and men say that a great sob shook him, while
+Jacksonian Democracy went wild--not looking into future years to see what
+they were going wild about.  Jethro Bass Chairman of the Board of
+Selectmen, in the honored place of Deacon Moses Hatch!  Bourbon royalists
+never looked with greater abhorrence on the Corsican adventurer and
+usurper of the throne than did the orthodox in Coniston on this tanner,
+who had earned no right to aspire to any distinction, and who by his
+wiles had acquired the highest office in the town government.  Fletcher
+Bartlett in, as a leader of the irresponsible opposition, would have been
+calamity enough.  But Jethro Bass!
+
+This man whom they had despised was the master mind who had organized and
+marshalled the loose vote, was the author of that ticket, who sat in his
+corner unmoved alike by the congratulations of his friends and the
+maledictions of his enemies; who rose to take his oath of office as
+unconcerned as though the house were empty, albeit Deacon Lysander could
+scarcely get the words out.  And then Jethro sat down again in his chair
+--not to leave it for six and thirty years.  From this time forth that
+chair became a seat of power, and of dominion over a state.
+
+Thus it was that Jock Hallowell's prophecy, so lightly uttered, came to
+pass.
+
+How the remainder of that Jacksonian ticket was elected, down to the very
+hog-reeves, and amid what turmoil of the Democracy and bitterness of
+spirit of the orthodox, I need not recount.  There is no moral to the
+story, alas--it was one of those things which inscrutable heaven
+permitted to be done.  After that dark town-meeting day some of those
+stern old fathers became broken men, and it is said in Coniston that this
+calamity to righteous government, and not the storm, gave to Priest Ware
+his death-stroke.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+And now we must go back for a chapter--a very short chapter--to the day
+before that town meeting which had so momentous an influence upon the
+history of Coniston and of the state.  That Monday, too, it will be
+remembered, dawned in storm, the sleet hissing in the wide throats of the
+centre-chimneys, and bearing down great boughs of trees until they broke
+in agony.  Dusk came early, and howling darkness that hid a muffled
+figure on the ice-bound road staring at the yellow cracks in the tannery
+door.  Presently the figure crossed the yard; the door, flying open,
+released a shaft of light that shot across the white ground, revealed a
+face beneath a hood to him who stood within.
+
+"Jethro!"
+
+She darted swiftly past him, seizing the door and drawing it closed after
+her.  A lantern hung on the central post and flung its rays upon his
+face.  Her own, mercifully, was in the shadow, and burning now with a
+shame that was insupportable.  Now that she was there, beside him, her
+strength failed her, and her courage--courage that she had been storing
+for this dread undertaking throughout the whole of that dreadful day.
+Now that she was there, she would have given her life to have been able
+to retrace her steps, to lose herself in the wild, dark places of the
+mountain.
+
+"Cynthy!"  His voice betrayed the passion which her presence had
+quickened.
+
+The words she would have spoken would not come.  She could think of
+nothing but that she was alone with him, and in bodily terror of him.
+She turned to the door again, to grasp the wooden latch; but he barred
+the way, and she fell back.
+
+"Let me go," she cried.  "I did not mean to come.  Do you hear?--let me
+go!"
+
+To her amazement he stepped aside--a most unaccountable action for him.
+More unaccountable still, she did not move, now that she was free, but
+stood poised for flight, held by she knew not what.
+
+"G-go if you've a mind to, Cynthy--if you've a mind to."
+
+"I've come to say something to you," she faltered.  It was not, at all
+the way she had pictured herself as saying it.
+
+"H-haven't took' Moses--have you?"
+
+Oh," she cried, "do you think I came here to speak of such a thing as
+that?"
+
+"H-haven't took--Moses, have you?"
+
+She was trembling, and yet she could almost have smiled at this well-
+remembered trick of pertinacity.
+
+"No," she said, and immediately hated herself for answering him.
+
+"H-haven't took that Worthington cuss?"
+
+He was jealous!
+
+"I didn't come to discuss Mr. Worthington," she replied.
+
+"Folks say it's only a matter of time," said he.  "Made up your mind to
+take him, Cynthy?  M-made up your mind?"
+
+"You've no right to talk to me in this way," she said, and added, the
+words seeming to slip of themselves from her lips, "Why do you do it?"
+
+"Because I'm--interested," he said.
+
+"You haven't shown it," she flashed back, forgetting the place, and the
+storm, and her errand even, forgetting that Jake Wheeler, or any one in
+Coniston, might come and surprise her there.
+
+He took a step toward her, and she retreated.  The light struck her face,
+and he bent over her as though searching it for a sign.  The cape on her
+shoulders rose and fell as she breathed.
+
+"'Twahn't charity, Cynthy--was it?  'Twahn't charity?"
+
+"It was you who called it such," she answered, in a low voice.
+
+A sleet-charged gust hurled itself against the door, and the lantern
+flickered.
+
+"Wahn't it charity."
+
+"It was friendship, Jethro.  You ought to have known that, and you should
+not have brought back the book."
+
+"Friendship," he repeated, "y-you said friendship?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"M-meant friendship?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia, but more faintly, and yet with a certain delicious
+fright as she glanced at him shyly.  Surely there had never been a
+stranger man!  Now he was apparently in a revery.
+
+"G-guess it's because I'm not good enough to be anything more," he
+remarked suddenly.  "Is that it?"
+
+"You have not tried even to be a friend," she said.
+
+"H-how about Worthington?" he persisted.  "Just friends with him?"
+
+"I won't talk about Mr. Worthington," cried Cynthia, desperately, and
+retreated toward the lantern again.
+
+"J-just friends with Worthington?"
+
+"Why?" she asked, her words barely heard above the gust, "why do you want
+to know?"
+
+He came after her.  It was as if she had summoned some unseen,
+uncontrollable power, only to be appalled by it, and the mountain-storm
+without seemed the symbol of it.  His very voice seemed to partake of its
+strength.
+
+"Cynthy," he said, "if you'd took him, I'd have killed him.  Cynthy, I
+love you--I want you to be my woman--"
+
+"Your woman!"
+
+He caught her, struggling wildly, terror-stricken, in his arms, beat down
+her hands, flung back her hood, and kissed her forehead--her hair, blown
+by the wind--her lips.  In that moment she felt the mystery of heaven and
+hell, of all kinds of power.  In that moment she was like a seed flying
+in the storm above the mountain spruces whither, she knew not, cared not.
+There was one thought that drifted across the chaos like a blue light of
+the spirit:  Could she control the storm?  Could she say whither the
+winds might blow, where the seed might be planted?  Then she found
+herself listening, struggling no longer, for he held her powerless.
+Strangest of all, most hopeful of all, his own mind was working, though
+his soul rocked with passion.
+
+"Cynthy--ever since we stopped that day on the road in Northcutt's woods,
+I've thought of nothin' but to marry you--m-marry you.  Then you give me
+that book--I hain't had much education, but it come across me if you was
+to help me that way--And when I seed you with Worthington, I could have
+killed him easy as breakin' bark."
+
+"Hush, Jethro."
+
+She struggled free and leaped away from him, panting, while he tore open
+his coat and drew forth something which gleamed in the lantern's rays--a
+silver locket.  Cynthia scarcely saw it.  Her blood was throbbing in her
+temples, she could not reason, but she knew that the appeal for the sake
+of which she had stooped must be delivered now.
+
+"Jethro," she said, "do you know why I came here--why I came to you?"
+
+"No," he said.  "No.  W--wanted me, didn't you?  Wanted me--I wanted you,
+Cynthy."
+
+"I would never have come to you for that," she cried, "never!"
+
+"L-love me, Cynthy--love me, don't you?"
+
+How could he ask, seeing that she had been in his arms, and had not fled?
+And yet she must go through with what she had come to do, at any cost.
+
+"Jethro, I have come to speak to you about the town meeting tomorrow."
+
+He halted as though he had been struck, his hand tightening over the
+locket.
+
+"T-town meetin'?"
+
+"Yes.  All this new organization is your doing," she cried.  "Do you
+think that I am foolish enough to believe that Fletcher Bartlett or Sam
+Price planned this thing?  No, Jethro.  I know who has done it, and I
+could have told them if they had asked me."
+
+He looked at her, and the light of a new admiration was in his eye.
+
+"Knowed it--did you?"
+
+"Yes," she answered, a little defiantly, "I did."
+
+"H-how'd you know it--how'd you know it, Cynthy?"  How did she know it,
+indeed?
+
+"I guessed it," said Cynthia, desperately, "knowing you, I guessed it."
+
+"A-always thought you was smart, Cynthy."
+
+"Tell me, did you do this thing?"
+
+"Th-thought you knowed it--th-thought you knowed."
+
+"I believe that these men are doing your bidding."
+
+"Hain't you guessin' a little mite too much; Cynthy?"
+
+"Jethro," she said, "you told me just now that--that you loved me.  Don't
+touch me!" she cried, when he would have taken her in his arms again.
+"If you love me, you will tell me why you have done such a thing."
+
+What instinct there was in the man which forbade him speaking out to her,
+I know not.  I do believe that he would have confessed, if he could.
+Isaac Worthington had been impelled to reveal his plans and aspirations,
+but Jethro Bass was as powerless in this supreme moment of his life as
+was Coniston Mountain to move the granite on which it stood.  Cynthia's
+heart sank, and a note of passionate appeal came into her voice.
+
+"Oh, Jethro!" she cried, "this is not the way to use your power, to
+compel men like Eben Williams and Samuel Todd and--and Lyman Hull, who is
+a drunkard and a vagabond, to come in and vote for those who are not fit
+to hold office."  She was using the minister's own arguments.  "We have
+always had clean men, and honorable and good men."
+
+He did not speak, but dropped his hands to his sides.  His thoughts were
+not to be fathomed, yet Cynthia took the movement for silent confession,-
+-which it was not, and stood appalled at the very magnitude of his
+accomplishment, astonished at the secrecy he had maintained.  She had
+heard that his name had been mentioned in the meeting at the house of
+Moses Hatch as having taken part in the matter, and she guessed something
+of certain of his methods.  But she had felt his force, and knew that
+this was not the only secret of his power.
+
+What might he not aspire to, if properly guided?  No, she did not believe
+him to be, unscrupulous--but merely ignorant: a man who was capable of
+such love as she felt was in him, a man whom she could love, could not
+mean to be unscrupulous.  Defence of him leaped to her own lips.
+
+"You did not know what you were doing," she said.  "I was sure of it, or
+I would not have come to you.  Oh, Jethro! you must stop it--you must
+prevent this election."
+
+Her eyes met his, her own pleading, and the very wind without seemed to
+pause for his answer.  But what she asked was impossible.  That wind
+which he himself had loosed, which was to topple over institutions, was
+rising, and he could no more have stopped it then than he could have
+hushed the storm.
+
+"You will not do what I ask--now?" she said, very slowly.  Then her voice
+failed her, she drew her hands together, and it was as if her heart had
+ceased to beat.  Sorrow and anger and fierce shame overwhelmed her, and
+she turned from him in silence and went to the door.
+
+"Cynthy," he cried hoarsely, "Cynthy!"
+
+"You must never speak to me again," she said, and was gone into the
+storm.
+
+Yes, she had failed.  But she did not know that she had left something
+behind which he treasured as long as he lived.
+
+In the spring, when the new leaves were green on the slopes of Coniston,
+Priest Ware ended a life of faithful service.  The high pulpit, taken
+from the old meeting house, and the cricket on which he used to stand and
+the Bible from which he used to preach have remained objects of
+veneration in Coniston to this day.  A fortnight later many tearful faces
+gazed after the Truro coach as it galloped out of Brampton in a cloud of
+dust, and one there was watching unseen from the spruces on the hill, who
+saw within it a girl dressed in black, dry-eyed, staring from the window.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+Out of the stump of a blasted tree in the Coniston woods a flower will
+sometimes grow, and even so the story which I have now to tell springs
+from the love of Cynthia Ware and Jethro Bass.  The flower, when it came
+to bloom, was fair in life, and I hope that in these pages it will not
+lose too much of its beauty and sweetness.
+
+For a little while we are going to gallop through the years as before we
+have ambled through the days, although the reader's breath may be taken
+away in the process.  How Cynthia Ware went over the Truro Pass to
+Boston, and how she became a teacher in a high school there;--largely
+through the kindness of that Miss Lucretia Penniman of whom we have
+spoken, who wrote in Cynthia's behalf to certain friends she had in that
+city; how she met one William Wetherell, no longer a clerk in Mr.
+Judson's jewellery shop, but a newspaper man with I know not what
+ambitions--and limitations in strength of body and will; how, many, many
+years afterward, she nursed him tenderly through a sickness and--married
+him, is all told in a paragraph.  Marry him she did, to take care of him,
+and told him so.  She made no secret of the maternal in this love.
+
+One evening, the summer after their marriage, they were walking in the
+Mall under the great elms that border the Common on the Tremont Street
+side.  They often used to wander there, talking of the books he was to
+write when strength should come and a little leisure, and sometimes their
+glances would linger longingly on Colonnade Row that Bulfinch built across
+the way, where dwelt the rich and powerful of the city--and yet he would
+not have exchanged their lot for his.  Could he have earned with his own
+hands such a house, and sit Cynthia there in glory, what happiness!
+But, I stray.
+
+They were walking in the twilight, for the sun had sunk all red in the
+marshes of the Charles, when there chanced along a certain Mr. Judson, a
+jeweller, taking the air likewise.  So there came into Wetherell's mind
+that amusing adventure with the country lad and the locket.  His name, by
+reason of some strange quality in it, he had never forgotten, and
+suddenly he recalled that the place the countryman had come from was
+Coniston.
+
+"Cynthia," said her husband, when Mr. Judson was gone, "did you know any
+one in Coniston named Jethro Bass?"
+
+She did not answer him.  And, thinking she had not heard, he spoke again.
+
+"Why do you ask?" she said, in a low tone, without looking at him.
+
+He told her the story.  Not until the end of it did the significance of
+the name engraved come to him--Cynthy.
+
+"Cynthy, from Jethro."
+
+"Why, it might have been you!" he said jestingly.  "Was he an admirer of
+yours, Cynthia, that strange, uncouth countryman?  Did he give you the
+locket?"
+
+"No," she answered, "he never did."
+
+Wetherell glanced at her in surprise, and saw that her lip was quivering,
+that tears were on her lashes.  She laid her hand on his arm.
+
+"William," she said, drawing him to a bench, "come, let us sit down, and
+I will tell you the story of Jethro Bass.  We have been happy together,
+you and I, for I have found peace with you.  I have tried to be honest
+with you, William, and I will always be so.  I told you before we were
+married that I loved another man.  I have tried to forget him, but as God
+is my judge, I cannot.  I believe I shall love him until I die."
+
+They sat in the summer twilight, until darkness fell, and the lights
+gleamed through the leaves, and a deep, cool breath coming up from the
+sea stirred the leaves above their heads.  That she should have loved
+Jethro seemed as strange to her as to him, and yet Wetherell was to feel
+the irresistible force of him.  Hers was not a love that she chose, or
+would have chosen, but something elemental that cried out from the man to
+her, and drew her.  Something that had in it now, as of yore, much of
+pain and even terror, but drew her.  Strangest of all was that William
+Wetherell understood and was not jealous of this thing: which leads us to
+believe that some essence of virility was lacking in him, some substance
+that makes the fighters and conquerors in this world.  In such mood he
+listened to the story of Jethro Bass.
+
+"My dear husband," said Cynthia, when she had finished, her  hand
+tightening over his, "I have never told you this for fear that it might
+trouble you as it has troubled me.  I have found in your love sanctuary;
+and all that remains of myself I have given to you."
+
+"You have found a weakling to protect, and an invalid to nurse," he
+answered.  "To have your compassion, Cynthia, is all I crave."
+
+So they lived through the happiest and swiftest years of his life,
+working side by side, sharing this strange secret between them.  And
+after that night Cynthia talked to him often of Coniston, until he came
+to know the mountain that lay along the western sky, and the sweet
+hillsides by Coniston Water under the blue haze of autumn, aye, and
+clothed in the colors of spring, the bright blossoms of thorn and apple
+against the tender green of the woods and fields.  So he grew to love the
+simple people there, but little did he foresee that he was to end his
+life among them!
+
+But so it came to pass, she was taken from him, who had been the one joy
+and inspiration of his weary days, and he was driven, wandering, into
+unfrequented streets that he might not recall, the places where she had
+once trod, and through the wakeful nights her voice haunted him,--its
+laughter, its sweet notes of seriousness; little ways and manners of her
+look came to twist his heart, and he prayed God to take him, too, until
+it seemed that Cynthia frowned upon him for his weakness.  One mild
+Sunday afternoon, he took little Cynthia by the hand and led her,
+toddling, out into the sunny Common, where he used to walk with her
+mother, and the infant prattle seemed to bring--at last a strange peace
+to his storm-tossed soul.
+
+For many years these Sunday walks in the Common were Wetherell's greatest
+pleasure and solace, and it seemed as though little Cynthia had come into
+the world with an instinct, as it were, of her mission that lent to her
+infant words a sweet gravity and weight.  Many people used to stop and
+speak to the child, among them a great physician whom they grew to know.
+He was, there every Sunday, and at length it came to be a habit with him
+to sit down on the bench and take Cynthia on his knee, and his stern face
+would soften as he talked to her.
+
+One Sunday when Cynthia was eight years old he missed them, and the next,
+and at dusk he strode into their little lodging behind the hill and up to
+the bedside.  He glanced at Wetherell, patting Cynthia on the head the
+while, and bade her cheerily to go out of the room.  But she held tight
+hold of her father's hand and looked up at the doctor bravely.
+
+"I am taking care of my father," she said.
+
+"So you shall, little woman," he answered.  "I would that we had such
+nurses as you at the hospital.  Why didn't you send for me at once?"
+
+"I wanted to," said Cynthia.
+
+"Bless her good sense;" said the doctor; "she has more than you,
+Wetherell.  Why didn't you take her advice?  If your father does not do
+as I tell him, he will be a very sick man indeed.  He must go into the
+country and stay there."
+
+"But I must live, Doctor," said William Wetherell.
+
+The doctor looked at Cynthia.
+
+"You will not live if you stay here," he replied.
+
+"Then he will go," said Cynthia, so quietly that he gave her another
+look, strange and tender and comprehending.  He, sat and talked of many
+things: of the great war that was agonizing the nation; of the strong man
+who, harassed and suffering himself, was striving to guide it, likening
+Lincoln unto a physician.  So the doctor was wont to take the minds of
+patients from themselves.  And before he left he gave poor Wetherell a
+fortnight to decide.
+
+As he lay on his back in that room among the chimney tops trying vainly
+to solve the problem of how he was to earn his salt in the country, a
+visitor was climbing the last steep flight of stairs.  That visitor was
+none other than Sergeant Ephraim Prescott, son of Isaiah of the pitch-
+pipe, and own cousin of Cynthia Ware's.  Sergeant Ephraim was just home
+from the war and still clad in blue, and he walked with a slight limp by
+reason of a bullet he had got in the Wilderness, and he had such an
+honest, genial face that little Cynthia was on his knee in a moment.
+
+"How be you, Will?  Kind of poorly, I callate.  So Cynthy's b'en took,"
+he said sadly.  "Always thought a sight of Cynthy.  Little Cynthy favors
+her some.  Yes, thought I'd drop in and see how you be on my way home."
+
+Sergeant Ephraim had much to say about the great war, and about Coniston.
+True to the instincts of the blood of the Stark hero, he had left the
+plough and the furrow' at the first call, forty years of age though he
+was.  But it had been otherwise with many in Coniston and Brampton and
+Harwich.  Some of these, when the drafting came, had fled in bands to the
+mountain and defied capture.  Mr. Dudley Worthington, now a mill owner,
+had found a substitute; Heth Sutton of Clovelly had been drafted and had
+driven over the mountain to implore Jethro Bass abjectly to get him out
+of it.  In short, many funny things had happened--funny things to
+Sergeant Ephraim, but not at all to William Wetherell, who sympathized
+with Heth in his panic.
+
+"So Jethro Bass has become a great man," said Wetherell.
+
+"Great!" Ephraim ejaculated.  "Guess he's the biggest man in the state
+to-day.  Queer how he got his power began twenty-four years ago when I
+wahn't but twenty.  I call that town meetin' to mind as if 'twas
+yesterday never was such an upset.  Jethro's be'n first Selectman ever
+sense, though he turned Republican in '60.  Old folks don't fancy
+Jethro's kind of politics much, but times change.  Jethro saved my life,
+I guess."
+
+"Saved your life!" exclaimed Wetherell.
+
+"Got me a furlough," said Ephraim.  "Guess I would have died in the
+hospital if he hadn't got it so all-fired quick, and he druv down to
+Brampton to fetch me back.  You'd have thought I was General Grant the
+way folks treated me."
+
+"You went back to the war.  after your leg healed?" Wetherell asked, in
+wondering admiration of the man's courage.
+
+"Well," said Ephraim, simply, "the other boys was gettin' full of bullets
+and dysentery, and it didn't seem just right.  The leg troubles me some
+on wet days, but not to amount to much.  You hain't thinkin' of dyin'
+yourself, be ye, William?"
+
+William was thinking very seriously of it, but it was Cynthia who spoke,
+and startled them both.
+
+"The doctor says he will die if he doesn't go to the country."
+
+"Somethin' like consumption, William?" asked Ephraim.
+
+"So the doctor said."
+
+"So I callated," said Ephraim.  "Come back to Coniston with me; there
+hain't a healthier place in New England."
+
+"How could I support myself in Coniston?" Wetherell asked.
+
+Ephraim ruminated.  Suddenly he stuck his hand into the bosom of his blue
+coat, and his face lighted and even gushed as he drew out a crumpled
+letter.
+
+"It don't take much gumption to run a store, does it, William?  Guess you
+could run a store, couldn't you?"
+
+"I would try anything," said Wetherell.
+
+"Well," said Ephraim' "there's the store at Coniston.  With folks goin'
+West, and all that, nobody seems to want it much."  He looked at the
+letter.  "Lem Hallowell' says there hain't nobody to take it."
+
+"Jonah Winch's!" exclaimed Wetherell.
+
+"Jonah made it go, but that was before all this hullabaloo about
+Temperance Cadets and what not.  Jonah sold good rum, but now you can't
+get nothin' in Coniston but hard cider and potato whiskey.  Still, it's
+the place for somebody without much get-up," and he eyed his cousin by
+marriage.  "Better come and try it, William."
+
+So much for dreams!  Instead of a successor to Irving and Emerson,
+William Wetherell became a successor to Jonah Winch.
+
+That journey to Coniston was full of wonder to Cynthia, and of wonder and
+sadness to Wetherell, for it was the way his other Cynthia had come to
+Boston.  From the state capital the railroad followed the same deep
+valley as the old coach road, but ended at Truro, and then they took
+stage over Truro Pass for Brampton, where honest Ephraim awaited them and
+their slender luggage with a team.  Brampton, with its wide-shadowed
+green, and terrace-steepled church; home once of the Social Library and
+Lucretia Penniman, now famous; home now of Isaac Dudley Worthington,
+whose great mills the stage driver had pointed out to them on Coniston
+Water as they entered the town.
+
+Then came a drive through the cool evening to Coniston, Ephraim showing
+them landmarks.  There was Deacon Lysander's house, where little Rias
+Richardson lived now; and on that slope and hidden in its forest nook,
+among the birches and briers, the little schoolhouse where Cynthia had
+learned to spell; here, where the road made an aisle in the woods, she
+had met Jethro.  The choir of the birds was singing an evening anthem now
+as then, to the lower notes of Coniston Water, and the moist, hothouse
+fragrance of the ferns rose from the deep places.
+
+At last they came suddenly upon the little hamlet of Coniston itself.
+There was the flagpole and the triangular green, scene of many a muster;
+Jonah Winch's store, with its horse block and checker-paned windows, just
+as Jonah had left it; Nathan Bass's tannery shed, now weather-stained and
+neglected, for Jethro lived on Thousand Acre Hill now; the Prescott
+house, home of the Stark hero, where Ephraim lived, "innocent of paint"
+(as one of Coniston's sons has put it), "innocent of paint as a Coniston
+maiden's face"; the white meeting-house, where Priest Ware had preached--
+and the parsonage.  Cynthia and Wetherell loitered in front of it, while
+the blue shadow of the mountain deepened into night, until Mr. Satterlee,
+the minister, found them there, and they went in and stood reverently in
+the little chamber on the right of the door, which had been Cynthia's.
+
+Long Wetherell lay awake that night, in his room at the gable-end over
+the store, listening to the rustling of the great oak beside the windows,
+to the whippoorwills calling across Coniston Water.  But at last a peace
+descended upon him, and he slept: yes, and awoke with the same sense of
+peace at little Cynthia's touch, to go out into the cool morning, when
+the mountain side was in myriad sheens of green under the rising sun.
+Behind the store was an old-fashioned garden, set about by a neat stone
+wall, hidden here and there by the masses of lilac and currant bushes,
+and at the south of it was a great rose-covered boulder of granite.  And
+beyond, through the foliage of the willows and the low apple trees which
+Jonah Winch had set out, Coniston Water gleamed and tumbled.  Under an
+arching elm near the house was the well, stone-rimmed, with its long pole
+and crotch, and bucket all green with the damp moss which clung to it.
+
+Ephraim Prescott had been right when he had declared that it did not take
+much gumption to keep store in Coniston.  William Wetherell merely
+assumed certain obligations at the Brampton bank, and Lem Hallowell,
+Jock's son, who now drove the Brampton stage, brought the goods to the
+door.  Little Rias Richardson was willing to come in, and help move the
+barrels, and on such occasions wore carpet slippers to save his shoes.
+William still had time for his books; in that Coniston air he began to
+feel stronger, and to wonder whether he might not be a Washington Irving
+yet.  And yet he had one worry and one fear, and both of these concerned
+one man,--Jethro Bass.  Him, by her own confession, Cynthia Ware had
+loved to her dying day, hating herself for it: and he, William Wetherell,
+had married this woman whom Jethro had loved so violently, and must
+always love--so Wetherell thought: that was the worry.  How would Jethro
+treat him? that was the fear.  William Wetherell was not the most
+courageous man in the world.
+
+Jethro Bass had not been in Coniston since William's arrival.  No need to
+ask where he was.  Jake Wheeler, Jethro's lieutenant in Coniston, gave
+William a glowing account of that Throne Room in the Pelican Hotel at the
+capital, from whence Jethro ruled the state during the sessions of the
+General Court.  This legislature sat to him as a sort of advisory
+committee of three hundred and fifty: an expensive advisory committee to
+the people, relic of an obsolete form of government.  Many stories of the
+now all-powerful Jethro William heard from the little coterie which made
+their headquarters in his store--stories of how those methods of which we
+have read were gradually spread over other towns and other counties.  Not
+that Jethro held mortgages in these towns and counties, but the local
+lieutenants did, and bowed to him as an overlord.  There were funny
+stories, and grim stories of vengeance which William Wetherell heard and
+trembled at.  Might not Jethro wish to take vengeance upon him?
+
+One story he did not hear, because no one in Coniston knew it.  No one
+knew that Cynthia Ware and Jethro Bass had ever loved each other.
+
+At last, toward the end of June, it was noised about that the great man
+was coming home for a few days.  One beautiful afternoon William
+Wetherell stood on the platform of the store, looking off at Coniston,
+talking to Moses Hatch--young Moses, who is father of six children now
+and has forgotten Cynthia Ware.  Old Moses sleeps on the hillside, let us
+hope in the peace of the orthodox and the righteous.  A cloud of dust
+arose above the road to the southward, and out of it came a country wagon
+drawn by a fat horse, and in the wagon the strangest couple Wetherell had
+ever seen.  The little woman who sat retiringly at one end of the seat
+was all in brilliant colors from bonnet to flounce, like a paroquet, red
+and green predominating.  The man, big in build, large-headed, wore an
+old-fashioned blue swallow-tailed coat with brass buttons, a stock, and
+coonskin hat, though it was summer, and the thumping of William
+Wetherell's heart told him that this was Jethro Bass.  He nodded briefly
+at Moses Hatch, who greeted him with genial obsequiousness.
+
+"Legislatur' through?" shouted Moses.
+
+The great man shook his head and drove on.
+
+"Has Jethro Bass ever been a member of the Legislature?" asked the
+storekeeper, for the sake of something to say.
+
+"Never would take any office but Chairman of the Selectmen," answered
+Moses, who apparently bore no ill will for his father's sake.  "Jethro
+kind of fathers the Legislatur', I guess, though I don't take much stock
+in politics.  Goes down sessions to see that they don't get too gumptious
+and kick off the swaddlin' clothes."
+
+"And--was that his wife?" Wetherell asked, hesitatingly.
+
+"Aunt Listy, they call her.  Nobody ever knew how he come to marry her.
+Jethro went up to Wisdom once, in the centre of the state, and come back
+with her.  Funny place to bring a wife from--Wisdom!  Funnier place to
+bring Listy from.  He loads her down with them ribbons and gewgaws--all
+the shades of the rainbow!  Says he wants her to be the best-dressed
+woman in the state.  Callate she is," added Moses, with conviction.
+"Listy's a fine woman, but all she knows is enough to say, 'Yes, Jethro,'
+and 'No, Jethro.'--Guess that's all Jethro wants in a wife; but he
+certainly is good to her."
+
+"And why has he come back before the Legislature's over?" said Wetherell.
+
+"Cuttin' of his farms.  Always comes back hayin' time.  That's the way
+Jethro spends the money he makes in politics, and he hain't no more of a
+farmer than--" Moses looked at Wetherell.
+
+"Than I'm a storekeeper," said the latter, smiling.
+
+"Than I'm a lawyer," said Moses, politely.
+
+They were interrupted at this moment by the appearance of Jake Wheeler
+and Sam Price, who came gaping out of the darkness of the store.
+
+"Was that Jethro, Mose?" demanded Jake.  "Guess we'll go along up and see
+if there's any orders."
+
+"I suppose the humblest of God's critturs has their uses," Moses remarked
+contemplatively, as he watched the retreating figures of Sam and Jake.
+"Leastwise that's Jethro's philosophy.  When you come to know him, you'll
+notice how much those fellers walk like him.  Never seed a man who had so
+many imitators.  Some of,'em's took to talkie' like him, even to
+stutterin'.  Bijah Bixby, over to Clovelly, comes pretty nigh it, too."
+
+Moses loaded his sugar and beans into his wagon, and drove off.
+
+An air of suppressed excitement seemed to pervade those who came that
+afternoon to the store to trade and talk--mostly to talk.  After such
+purchases as they could remember were made, they lingered on the barrels
+and on the stoop, in the hope of seeing Jethro, whose habit; it was,
+apparently, to come down and dispense such news as he thought fit for
+circulation.  That Wetherell shared this excitement, too, he could not
+deny, but for a different cause.  At last, when the shadows of the big
+trees had crept across the green, he came, the customers flocking to the
+porch to greet him, Wetherell standing curiously behind them in the door.
+Heedless of the dust, he strode down the road with the awkward gait that
+was all his own, kicking up his heels behind.  And behind him, heels
+kicking up likewise, followed Jake and Sam, Jethro apparently oblivious
+of their presence.  A modest silence was maintained from the stoop,
+broken at length by Lem Hallowell, who (men said) was an exact
+reproduction of Jock, the meeting-house builder.  Lem alone was not
+abashed in the presence of greatness.
+
+"How be you, Jethro?" he said heartily.  "Air the Legislatur' behavin'
+themselves?"
+
+"B-bout as common," said Jethro.
+
+Surely nothing very profound in this remark, but received as though it
+were Solomon's.
+
+Be prepared for a change in Jethro, after the galloping years.  He is now
+fifty-seven, but he might be any age.  He is still smooth-shaven, his
+skin is clear, and his eye is bright, for he lives largely on bread and
+milk, and eschews stimulants.  But the lines in his face have deepened
+and his big features seem to have grown bigger.
+
+"Who be you thinkin' of for next governor, Jethro?" queries Rias
+Richardson, timidly.
+
+"They say Alvy Hopkins of Gosport is willin' to pay for it," said Chester
+Perkins, sarcastically.  Chester; we fear, is a born agitator, fated to
+remain always in opposition.  He is still a Democrat, and Jethro, as is
+well known, has extended the mortgage so as to include Chester's farm.
+
+"Wouldn't give a Red Brook Seedling for Alvy," ejaculated the nasal Mr.
+Price.
+
+"D-don't like Red Brook Seedlings, Sam?  D-don't like 'em?" said Jethro.
+He had parted his blue coat tails and seated himself on the stoop, his
+long legs hanging over it.
+
+"Never seed a man who had a good word to say for 'em," said Mr. Price,
+with less conviction.
+
+"Done well on mine," said Jethro, "d-done well.  I was satisfied with my
+Red Brook Seedlings."
+
+Mr. Price's sallow face looked as if he would have contradicted another
+man.
+
+"How was that, Jethro?" piped up Jake Wheeler, voicing the general
+desire.
+
+Jethro looked off into the blue space beyond the mountain line.
+
+"G-got mine when they first come round--seed cost me considerable.
+Raised more than a hundred bushels L-Listy put some of 'em on the table--
+t-then gave some to my old hoss Tom.  Tom said: 'Hain't I always been a
+good beast, Jethro?  Hain't I carried you faithful, summer and winter,
+for a good many years?  And now you give me Red Brook Seedlings?'"
+
+Here everybody laughed, and stopped abruptly, for Jethro still looked
+contemplative.
+
+"Give some of 'em to the hogs.  W-wouldn't touch 'em.  H-had over a
+hundred bushels on hand--n-new variety.  W-what's that feller's name down
+to Ayer, Massachusetts, deals in all kinds of seeds?  Ellett--that's it.
+Wrote to Ellet, said I had a hundred bushels of Red Brooks to sell, as
+fine a lookin' potato as I had in my cellar.  Made up my mind to take
+what he offered, if it was only five cents.  He wrote back a dollar a
+bushel.  I-I was always satisfied with my Red Brook Seedlings, Sam.  But
+I never raised any more--n-never raised any more."
+
+Uproarious laughter greeted the end of this story, and continued in fits
+as some humorous point recurred to one or the other of the listeners.
+William Wetherell perceived that the conversation, for the moment at
+least, was safely away from politics, and in that dubious state where it
+was difficult to reopen.  This was perhaps what Jethro wanted.  Even Jake
+Wheeler was tongue-tied, and Jethro appeared to be lost in reflection.
+
+At this instant a diversion occurred--a trifling diversion, so it seemed
+at the time.  Around the corner of the store, her cheeks flushed and her
+dark hair flying, ran little Cynthia, her hands, browned already by the
+Coniston sun, filled with wild strawberries.
+
+"See what I've found, Daddy!" she cried, "see what I've found!"
+
+Jethro Bass started, and flung back his head like a man who has heard a
+voice from another world, and then he looked at the child with a kind of
+stupefaction.  The cry, died on Cynthia's lips, and she stopped, gazing
+up at him with wonder in her eyes.
+
+"F-found strawberries?" said Jethro, at last.
+
+"Yes," she answered.  She was very grave and serious now, as was her
+manner in dealing with people.
+
+"S-show 'em to me," said Jethro.
+
+Cynthia went to him, without embarrassment, and put her hand on his knee.
+Not once had he taken his eyes from her face.  He put out his own hand
+with an awkward, shy movement, picked a strawberry from her fingers, and
+thrust it in his mouth.
+
+"Mm," said Jethro, gravely.  "Er--what's your name, little gal--what's
+your name?"
+
+"Cynthia."
+
+There was a long pause.
+
+"Er--er--Cynthia?" he said at length, "Cynthia?"
+
+"Cynthia."
+
+"Er-er, Cynthia--not Cynthy?"
+
+"Cynthia," she said again.
+
+He bent over her and lowered his voice.
+
+"M-may I call you Cynthy--Cynthy?" he asked.
+
+"Y-yes," answered Cynthia, looking up to her father and then glancing
+shyly at Jethro.
+
+His eyes were on the mountain, and he seemed to have forgotten her until
+she reached out to him, timidly, another strawberry.  He seized her
+little hand instead and held it between his own--much to the astonishment
+of his friends.
+
+"Whose little gal be you?" he asked.
+
+"Dad's."
+
+"She's Will Wetherell's daughter," said Lem Hallowell.  "He's took on the
+store.  Will," he added, turning to Wetherell, "let me make you
+acquainted with Jethro Bass."
+
+Jethro rose slowly, and towered above Wetherell on the stoop.  There was
+an inscrutable look in his black eyes, as of one who sees without being
+seen.  Did he know who William Wetherell was?  If so, he gave no sign,
+and took Wetherell's hand limply.
+
+"Will's kinder hipped on book-l'arnin'," Lemuel continued kindly.  "Come
+here to keep store for his health.  Guess you may have heerd, Jethro,
+that Will married Cynthy Ware.  You call Cynthy to mind, don't ye?"
+
+Jethro Bass dropped Wetherell's hand, but answered nothing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+A week passed, and Jethro did not appear in the village, report having it
+that he was cutting his farms on Thousand Acre Hill.  When Jethro was
+farming,--so it was said,--he would not stop to talk politics even with
+the President of the United States were that dignitary to lean over his
+pasture fence and beckon to him.  On a sultry Friday morning, when
+William Wetherell was seated at Jonah Winch's desk in the cool recesses
+of the store slowly and painfully going over certain troublesome accounts
+which seemed hopeless, he was thrown into a panic by the sight of one
+staring at him from the far side of a counter.  History sometimes
+reverses itself.
+
+"What can I do for you--Mr. Bass?" asked the storekeeper, rather weakly.
+
+"Just stepped in--stepped in," he answered.  "W-where's Cynthy?"
+
+"She was in the garden--shall I get her?"
+
+"No," he said, parting his coat tails and seating himself on the counter.
+"Go on figurin', don't mind me."
+
+The thing was manifestly impossible.  Perhaps Wetherell indicated as much
+by his answer.
+
+"Like storekeepin'?" Jethro asked presently, perceiving that he did not
+continue his work.
+
+"A man must live, Mr. Bass," said Wetherell; "I had to leave the city for
+my health.  I began life keeping store," he added, "but I little thought
+I should end it so."
+
+"Given to book-l'arnin' then, wahn't you?" Jethro remarked.  He did not
+smile, but stared at the square of light that was the doorway, "Judson's
+jewellery store, wahn't it?  Judson's?"
+
+"Yes, Judson's," Wetherell answered, as soon as he recovered from his
+amazement.  There was no telling from Jethro's manner whether he were
+enemy or friend; whether he bore the storekeeper a grudge for having
+attained to a happiness that had not been his.
+
+"Hain't made a great deal out of life, hev you?  N-not a great deal?"
+Jethro observed at last.
+
+Wetherell flushed, although Jethro had merely stated a truth which had
+often occurred to the storekeeper himself.
+
+"It isn't given to all of us to find Rome in brick and leave it in
+marble," he replied a little sadly.
+
+Jethro Bass looked at him quickly.
+
+"Er-what's that?" he demanded.  "F-found Rome in brick, left it in
+marble.  Fine thought."  He ruminated a little.  "Never writ anything--
+did you--never writ anything?"
+
+"Nothing worth publishing," answered poor William Wetherell.
+
+"J-just dreamed'--dreamed and kept store.  S--something to have dreamed--
+eh--something to have dreamed?"
+
+Wetherell forgot his uneasiness in the unexpected turn the conversation
+had taken.  It seemed very strange to him that he was at last face to
+face again wish the man whom Cynthia Ware had never been able to drive
+from her heart.  Would, he mention her?  Had he continued to love her, in
+spite of the woman he had married and adorned?  Wetherell asked himself
+these questions before he spoke.
+
+"It is more to have accomplished," he said.
+
+"S-something to have dreamed," repeated Jethro, rising slowly from the
+counter.  He went toward the doorway that led into the garden, and there
+he halted and stood listening.
+
+"C-Cynthy!" he said, "C-Cynthy!"
+
+Wetherell dropped his pen at the sound of the name on Jethro's lips.  But
+it was little Cynthia he was calling little Cynthia in the garden.  The
+child came at his voice, and stood looking up at him silently.
+
+"H-how old be you, Cynthy?"
+
+"Nine," answered Cynthia, promptly.
+
+"L-like the country, Cynthy--like the country better than the city?"
+
+"Oh, yes," said Cynthia.
+
+"And country folks?  L--like country folks better than city folks?"
+
+"I didn't know many city folks," said Cynthia.  "I liked the old doctor
+who sent Daddy up here ever so much, and I liked Mrs. Darwin."
+
+"Mis' Darwin?"
+
+"She kept the house we lived in.  She used to give me cookies," said
+Cynthia, "and bread to feed the pigeons."
+
+"Pigeons?  F-folks keep pigeons in the city?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Cynthia, laughing at such an idea; "the pigeons came on
+the roof under our window, and they used to fly right up on the window-
+sill and feed out of my hand.  They kept me company while Daddy, was
+away, working.  On Sundays we used to go into
+the Common and feed them, before Daddy got sick.  The Common was
+something like the country, only not half as nice."
+
+"C-couldn't pick flowers in the Common and go barefoot--e--couldn't go
+barefoot, Cynthy?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Cynthia, laughing again at his sober face.
+
+"C-couldn't dig up the Common and plant flowers--could you?"
+
+"Of course you couldn't."
+
+"P-plant 'em out there?" asked Jethro.
+
+"Oh, yes," cried Cynthia; "I'll show you."  She hesitated a moment, and
+then thrust her hand into his.  "Do you want to see?"
+
+"Guess I do," said he, energetically, and she led him into the garden,
+pointing out with pride the rows of sweet peas and pansies, which she had
+made herself.  Impelled by a strange curiosity, William Wetherell went to
+the door and watched them.  There was a look on the face of Jethro Bass
+that was new to it as he listened to the child talk of the wondrous
+things around them that summer's day,--the flowers and the bees and the
+brook (they must go down and stand on the brink of it), and the songs of
+the vireo and the hermit thrush.
+
+"Hain't lonely here, Cynthy--hain't lonely here?" he said.
+
+"Not in the country," said Cynthia.  Suddenly she lifted her eyes to his
+with a questioning look.  "Are you lonely, sometimes?"
+
+He did not answer at once.
+
+"Not with you, Cynthy--not with you."
+
+By all of which it will be seen that the acquaintance was progressing.
+They sat down for a while on the old millstone that formed the step, and
+there discussed Cynthia's tastes.  She was too old for dolls, Jethro
+supposed.  Yes, Cynthia was too old for dolls.  She did not say so, but
+the only doll she had ever owned had become insipid when the delight of
+such a reality as taking care of a helpless father had been thrust upon
+her.  Books, suggested Jethro.  Books she had known from her earliest
+infancy: they had been piled around that bedroom over the roof.  Books
+and book lore and the command of the English tongue were William
+Wetherell's only legacies to his daughter, and many an evening that
+spring she had read him to sleep from classic volumes of prose and poetry
+I hesitate to name, for fear you will think her precocious.  They went
+across the green to Cousin Ephraim Prescott's harness shop, where Jethro
+had tied his horse, and it was settled that Cynthia liked books.
+
+On the morning following this extraordinary conversation, Jethro Bass and
+his wife departed for the state capital.  Listy was bedecked in amazing
+greens and yellows, and Jethro drove, looking neither to the right nor
+left, his coat tails hanging down behind the seat, the reins lying slack
+across the plump quarters of his horse--the same fat Tom who, by the way,
+had so indignantly spurned the Iced Brook Seedlings.  And Jake Wheeler
+went along to bring back the team from Brampton.  To such base uses are
+political lieutenants sometimes put, although fate would have told you it
+was an honor, and he came back to the store that evening fairly bristling
+with political secrets which he could not be induced to impart.
+
+One evening a fortnight later, while the lieutenant was holding forth in
+commendably general terms on the politics of the state to a speechless if
+not wholly admiring audience, a bomb burst in their midst.  William
+Wetherell did not know that it was a periodical bomb, like those flung at
+regular intervals from the Union mortars into Vicksburg.  These bombs, at
+any rate, never failed to cause consternation and fright in Coniston,
+although they never did any harm.  One thing noticeable, they were always
+fired in Jethro's absence.  And the bombardier was always Chester
+Perkins, son of the most unbending and rigorous of tithing-men, but
+Chester resembled his father in no particular save that he, too, was a
+deacon and a pillar of the church.  Deacon Ira had been tall and gaunt
+and sunken and uncommunicative.  Chester was stout, and said to perspire
+even in winter, apoplectic, irascible, talkative, and still, as has been
+said, a Democrat.  He drove up to the store this evening to the not
+inappropriate rumble of distant thunder, and he stood up in his wagon in
+front of the gathering and shook his fist in Jake Wheeler's face.
+
+"This town's tired of puttin' up with a King," he cried.  "Yes, King-=I
+said it, and I don't care who hears me.  It's time to stop this one-man
+rule.  You kin go and tell him I said it, Jake Wheeler, if you've a mind
+to.  I guess there's plenty who'll do that."
+
+An uneasy silence followed--the silence which cries treason louder than
+any voice.  Some shifted uneasily, and spat, and Jake Wheeler thrust his
+hands in his pockets and walked away, as much as to say that it was
+treason even to listen to such talk.  Lem Hallowell seemed unperturbed.
+
+"On the rampage agin, Chet?" he remarked.
+
+"You'd ought to know better, Lem," cried the enraged Chester; "hain't the
+hull road by the Four Corners ready to drop into the brook?  What be you
+a-goin' to do about it?"
+
+"I'll show you when I git to it," answered Lem, quietly.  And, show them
+he did.
+
+"Git to it!" shouted Chester, scornfully, "I'll git to it.  I'll tell you
+right now I'm a candidate for the Chairman of the Selectmen, if town
+meetin' is eight months away.  An', Sam Price, I'll expect the Democrats
+to git into line."
+
+With this ultimatum Chester drove away as rapidly as he had come.
+
+"I want to know!" said Sam Price, an exclamation peculiarly suited to his
+voice.  But nevertheless Sam might be counted on in each of these little
+rebellions.  He, too, had remained steadfast to Jacksonian principles,
+and he had never forgiven Jethro about a little matter of a state office
+which he (Sam) had failed to obtain.
+
+Before he went to bed Jake Wheeler had written a letter which he sent off
+to the state capital by the stage the next morning.  In it he indicted no
+less than twenty of his fellow-townsmen for treason; and he also thought
+it wise to send over to Clovelly for Bijah Bixby, a lieutenant in that
+section, to come and look over the ground and ascertain by his well-known
+methods how far the treason had eaten into the body politic.  Such was
+Jake's ordinary procedure when the bombs were fired, for Mr. Wheeler was
+nothing if not cautious.
+
+Three mornings later, a little after seven o'clock, when the storekeeper
+and his small daughter were preparing to go to Brampton upon a very
+troublesome errand, Chester Perkins appeared again.  It is always easy to
+stir up dissatisfaction among the ne'er-do-wells (Jethro had once done it
+himself), and during the three days which had elapsed since Chester had
+flung down the gauntlet there had been more or less of downright treason
+heard in the store.  William Wetherell, who had perplexities of his own,
+had done his best to keep out of the discussions that had raged on his
+cracker boxes and barrels, for his head was a jumble of figures which
+would not come right.  And now as he stood there in the freshness of the
+early summer morning, waiting for Lem Hallowell's stage, poor Wetherell's
+heart was very heavy.
+
+"Will Wetherell," said Chester, "you be a gentleman and a student, hain't
+you?  Read history, hain't you?"
+
+"I have read some," said William Wetherell.
+
+"I callate that a man of parts," said Chester, "such as you be, will help
+us agin corruption and a dictator.  I'm a-countin' on you, Will
+Wetherell.  You've got the store, and you kin tell the boys the
+difference between right and wrong.  They'll listen to you, because
+you're eddicated."
+
+"I don't know anything about politics," answered Wetherell, with an
+appealing glance at the silent group,--group that was always there.  Rias
+Richardson, who had donned the carpet slippers preparatory to tending
+store for the day, shuffled inside.  Deacon Lysander, his father, would
+not have done so.
+
+"You know sornethin' about history and the Constitootion, don't ye?"
+demanded Chester, truculently.  N'Jethro Bass don't hold your mortgage,
+does he?  Bank in Brampton holds it--hain't that so?  You hain't afeard
+of Jethro like the rest on 'em, be you?"
+
+"I don't know what right you have to talk to me that way, Mr. Perkins,"
+said Wetherell.
+
+"What right?  Jethro holds my mortgage--the hull town knows it-and he kin
+close me out to-morrow if he's a mind to--"
+
+"See here, Chester Perkins," Lem Hallowell interposed, as he drove up
+with the stage, "what kind of free principles be you preachin'?  You'd
+ought to know better'n coerce."
+
+"What be you a-goin' to do about that Four Corners road?" Chester cried
+to the stage driver.
+
+"I give 'em till to-morrow night to fix it," said Lem.  "Git in, Will.
+Cynthy's over to the harness shop with Eph.  We'll stop as we go 'long."
+
+"Give 'em till to-morrow night!" Chester shouted after them.  "What you
+goin' to do then?"
+
+But Lem did not answer this inquiry.  He stopped at the harness shop,
+where Ephraim came limping out and lifted Cynthia to the seat beside her
+father, and they joggled off to Brampton.  The dew still lay in myriad
+drops on the red herd's-grass, turning it to lavender in the morning sun,
+and the heavy scent of the wet ferns hung in the forest.  Lem whistled,
+and joked with little Cynthia, and gave her the reins to drive, and of
+last they came in sight of Brampton Street, with its terrace-steepled
+church and line of wagons hitched to the common rail, for it was market
+day.  Father and daughter walked up and down, hand in hand, under the
+great trees, and then they went to the bank.
+
+It was a brick building on a corner opposite the common, imposing for
+Brampton, and very imposing to Wetherell.  It seemed like a tomb as he
+entered its door, Cynthia clutching his fingers, and never but once in
+his life had he been so near to leaving all hope behind.  He waited
+patiently by the barred windows until the clerk, who was counting bills,
+chose to look up at him.
+
+"Want to draw money?" he demanded.
+
+The words seemed charged with irony.  William Wetherell told him,
+falteringly, his name and business, and he thought the man looked at him
+compassionately.
+
+"You'll have to see Mr. Worthington," he said; "he hasn't gone to the
+mills yet."
+
+"Dudley Worthington?" exclaimed Wetherell.
+
+The teller smiled.
+
+"Yes.  He's the president of this bank."'
+
+He opened a door in the partition, and leaving Cynthia dangling her feet
+from a chair, Wetherell was ushered, not without trepidation, into the
+great man's office, and found himself at last in the presence of Mr.
+Isaac D. Worthington, who used to wander up and down Coniston Water
+searching for a mill site.
+
+He sat behind a table covered with green leather, on which papers were
+laid with elaborate neatness, and he wore a double-breasted skirted coat
+of black, with braided lapels, a dark purple blanket cravat with a large
+red cameo pin.  And Mr. Worthington's features harmonized perfectly with
+this costume--those of a successful, ambitious man who followed custom
+and convention blindly; clean-shaven, save for reddish chops, blue eyes
+of extreme keenness, and thin-upped mouth which had been tightening year
+by year as the output of the Worthington Minx increased.
+
+"Well, sir," he said sharply, "what can I do for you?"
+
+"I am William Wetherell, the storekeeper at Coniston."
+
+"Not the Wetherell who married Cynthia Ware!"
+
+No, Mr. Worthington did not say that.  He did not know that Cynthia Ware
+was married, or alive or dead, and--let it be confessed at once--he did
+not care.
+
+This is what he did say:--
+
+"Wetherell--Wetherell.  Oh, yes, you've come about that note--the
+mortgage on the store at Coniston."  He stared at William Wetherell,
+drummed with his fingers on the table, and smiled slightly.  "I am happy
+to say that the Brampton Bank does not own this note any longer.  If we
+did,--merely as a matter of business, you understand" (he coughed),--"we
+should have had to foreclose."
+
+"Don't own the note!" exclaimed Wetherell.  "Who does own it?"
+
+"We sold it a little while ago--since you asked for the extension--to
+Jethro Bass."
+
+"Jethro Bass!"  Wetherell's feet seemed to give way under him, and he sat
+down.
+
+"Mr. Bass is a little quixotic--that is a charitable way to put it--
+quixotic.  He does--strange things like this once in awhile."
+
+The storekeeper found no words to answer, but sat mutely staring at him.
+Mr. Worthington coughed again.
+
+"You appear to be an educated man.  Haven't I heard some story of your
+giving up other pursuits in Boston to come up here for your health?
+Certainly I place you now.  I confess to a little interest in literature
+myself--in libraries."
+
+In spite of his stupefaction at the news he had just received, Wetherell
+thought of Mr. Worthington's beaver hat, and of that gentleman's first
+interest in libraries, for Cynthia had told the story to her husband.
+
+"It is perhaps an open secret," continued Mr. Worthington, "that in the
+near future I intend to establish a free library in Brampton.  I feel it
+my duty to do all I can for the town where I have made my success, and
+there is nothing which induces more to the popular welfare than a good
+library."  Whereupon he shot at Wetherell another of his keen looks.  "I
+do not talk this way ordinarily to my customers, Mr. Wetherell," he
+began; "but you interest me, and I am going to tell you something in
+confidence.  I am sure it will not be betrayed."
+
+"Oh, no," said the bewildered storekeeper, who was in no condition to
+listen to confidences.
+
+He went quietly to the door, opened it, looked out, and closed it softly.
+Then he looked out of the window.
+
+"Have a care of this man Bass," he said, in a lower voice.  "He began
+many years ago by debauching the liberties of that little town of
+Coniston, and since then he has gradually debauched the whole state,
+judges and all.  If I have a case to try" (he spoke now with more
+intensity and bitterness), "concerning my mills, or my bank, before I get
+through I find that rascal mixed up in it somewhere, and unless I arrange
+matters with him, I--"
+
+He paused abruptly, his eyes going out of the window, pointing with a
+long finger at a grizzled man crossing the street with a yellow and red
+horse blanket thrown over his shoulders.
+
+"That man, Judge Baker, holding court in this town now, Bass owns body
+and soul."
+
+"And the horse blanket?" Wetherell queried, irresistibly.
+
+Dudley Worthington did not smile.
+
+"Take my advice, Mr. Wetherell, and pay off that note somehow."  An odor
+of the stable pervaded the room, and a great unkempt grizzled head and
+shoulders, horse blanket and all, were stuck into it.
+
+"Mornin', Dudley," said the head, "busy?"
+
+"Come right in, Judge," answered Mr. Worthington.  "Never too busy to see
+you."  The head disappeared.
+
+"Take my advice, Mr. Wetherell."
+
+And then the storekeeper went into the bank.
+
+For some moments he stood dazed by what he had heard, the query ringing
+in his head: Why had Jethro Bass bought that note?  Did he think that the
+storekeeper at Coniston would be of use to him, politically?  The words
+Chester Perkins had spoken that morning came back to Wetherell as he
+stood in the door.  And how was he to meet Jethro Bass again with no
+money to pay even the interest on the note?  Then suddenly he missed
+Cynthia, hurried out, and spied her under the trees on the common so deep
+in conversation with a boy that she did not perceive him until he spoke
+to her.  The boy looked up, smiling frankly at something Cynthia had said
+to him.  He had honest, humorous eyes, and a browned, freckled face, and
+was, perhaps, two years older than Cynthia.
+
+"What's the matter?" said Wetherell.
+
+Cynthia's face was flushed, and she was plainly vexed about something.
+
+"I gave her a whistle," said the boy, with a little laugh of vexation,
+"and now she says she won't take it because I owned up I made it for
+another girl."
+
+Cynthia held it out to him, not deigning to appeal her ease.
+
+"You must take it back," she said.
+
+"But I want you to have it," said the boy.
+
+"It wouldn't be right for me to take it when you made it for somebody
+else."
+
+After all, people with consciences are born, not made.  But this was a
+finer distinction that the boy had ever met with in his experience.
+
+"I didn't know you when I made the whistle," he objected, puzzled and
+downcast.
+
+"That doesn't make any difference."
+
+"I like you better than the other girl."
+
+"You have no right to," retorted the casuist; "you've known her longer."
+
+"That doesn't make any difference," said the boy; "there are lots of
+people I don't like I have always known.  This girl doesn't live in
+Brampton, anyway."
+
+"Where does she live?" demanded Cynthia,--which was a step backward.
+
+"At the state capital.  Her name's Janet Duncan.  There, do you believe
+me now?"
+
+William Wetherell had heard of Janet Duncan's father, Alexander Duncan,
+who had the reputation of being the richest man in the state.  And he
+began to wonder who the boy could be.
+
+"I believe you," said Cynthia; "but as long as you made it for her, it's
+hers.  Will you take it?"
+
+"No," said he, determinedly.
+
+"Very well," answered Cynthia.  She laid down the whistle beside him on
+the rail, and went off a little distance and seated herself on a bench.
+The boy laughed.
+
+"I like that girl," he remarked; "the rest of 'em take everything I give
+'em, and ask for more.  She's prettier'n any of 'em, too."
+
+"What is your name?" Wetherell asked him, curiously, forgetting his own
+troubles.
+
+"Bob Worthington."
+
+"Are you the son of Dudley Worthington"
+
+"Everybody asks me that," he said; "I'm tired of it.  When I grow up,
+they'll have to stop it."
+
+"But you should be proud of your father."
+
+"I am proud of him, everybody's proud of him, Brampton's proud of him--
+he's proud of himself.  That's enough, ain't it?"  He eyed Wetherell
+somewhat defiantly, then his glance wandered to Cynthia, and he walked
+over to her.  He threw himself down on the grass in front of her, and lay
+looking up at her solemnly.  For a while she continued to stare
+inflexibly at the line of market wagons, and then she burst into a laugh.
+
+"Thought you wouldn't hold out forever," he remarked.
+
+"It's because you're so foolish," said Cynthia, "that's why I laughed."
+Then she grew sober again and held out her hand to him.  "Good-by."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"I must go back to my father.  I--I think he doesn't feel very well."
+
+"Next time I'll make a whistle for you," he called after her.
+
+"And give it to somebody else," said Cynthia.
+
+She had hold of her father's hand by that, but he caught up with her,
+very red in the face.
+
+"You know that isn't true," he cried angrily, and taking his way across
+Brampton Street, turned, and stood staring after them until they were out
+of sight.
+
+"Do you like him, Daddy?" asked Cynthia.
+
+William Wetherell did not answer.  He had other things to think about.
+
+"Daddy?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Does your trouble feel any better?"
+
+"Some, Cynthia.  But you mustn't think about it."
+
+"Daddy, why don't you ask Uncle Jethro to help you?"
+
+At the name Wetherell started as if he had had a shock.
+
+"What put him into your head, Cynthia?" he asked sharply.  "Why do you
+call him 'Uncle Jethro'?"
+
+"Because he asked me to.  Because he likes me, and I like him."
+
+The whole thing was a riddle he could not solve--one that was best left
+alone.  They had agreed to walk back the ten miles to Coniston, to save
+the money that dinner at the hotel would cost.  And so they started,
+Cynthia flitting hither and thither along the roadside, picking the
+stately purple iris flowers in the marshy places, while Wetherell
+pondered.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+Books she had known from her earliest infancy
+Curiosity as a factor has never, perhaps, been given its proper weight
+Pious belief in democracy, but with a firmer determination to get on top
+Giant pines that gave many a mast to King George's navy
+He hain't be'n eddicated a great deal
+Riddle he could not solve--one that was best left alone
+They don't take notice of him, because he don't say much
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, V1
+by Winston Churchill
+
+
+
+
+
+CONISTON
+
+BOOK 2.
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+When William Wetherell and Cynthia had reached the last turn in the road
+in Northcutt's woods, quarter of a mile from Coniston, they met the nasal
+Mr. Samuel Price driving silently in the other direction.  The word
+"silently" is used deliberately, because to Mr. Price appertained a
+certain ghostlike quality of flitting, and to Mr. Price's horse and wagon
+likewise.  He drew up for a brief moment when he saw Wetherell.
+
+"Wouldn't hurry back if I was you, Will."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+Mr. Price leaned out of the wagon.
+
+"Bije has come over from Clovelly to spy around a little mite."
+
+It was evident from Mr. Price's manner that he regarded the storekeeper
+as a member of the reform party.
+
+"What did he say, Daddy?" asked Cynthia, as Wetherell stood staring after
+the flitting buggy in bewilderment.
+
+"I haven't the faintest idea, Cynthia," answered her father, and they
+walked on.
+
+"Don't you know who 'Bije' is?
+
+"No," said her father, "and I don't care."
+
+It was almost criminal ignorance for a man who lived in that part of the
+country not to know Bijah Bixby of Clovelly, who was paying a little
+social visit to Coniston that day on his way home from the state
+capital,--tending, as it were, Jethro's flock.  Still, Wetherell must be
+excused because he was an impractical literary man with troubles of his
+own.  But how shall we chronicle Bijah's rank and precedence in the
+Jethro army, in which there are neither shoulder-straps nor annual
+registers?  To designate him as the Chamberlain of that hill Rajah, the
+Honorable Heth Sutton, would not be far out of the way.  The Honorable
+Heth, whom we all know and whom we shall see presently, is the man of
+substance and of broad acres in Clovelly: Bijah merely owns certain
+mortgages in that town, but he had created the Honorable Heth
+(politically) as surely as certain prime ministers we could name have
+created their sovereigns.  The Honorable Heth was Bijah's creation, and a
+grand creation he was, as no one will doubt when they see him.
+
+Bijah--as he will not hesitate to tell you--took Heth down in his pocket
+to the Legislature, and has more than once delivered him, in certain
+blocks of five and ten, and four and twenty, for certain considerations.
+The ancient Song of Sixpence applies to Bijah, but his pocket was
+generally full of proxies instead of rye, and the Honorable Heth was
+frequently one of the four and twenty blackbirds.  In short, Bijah was
+the working bee, and the Honorable Heth the ornamental drone.
+
+I do not know why I have dwelt so long on such a minor character as
+Bijah, except that the man fascinates me.  Of all the lieutenants in the
+state, his manners bore the closest resemblance to those of Jethro Bass.
+When he walked behind Jethro in the corridors of the Pelican, kicking up
+his heels behind, he might have been taken for Jethro's shadow.  He was
+of a good height and size, smooth-shaven, with little eyes that kindled,
+and his mouth moved not at all when he spoke: unlike Jethro, he "used"
+tobacco.
+
+When Bijah had driven into Coniston village and hitched his wagon to the
+rail, he went direct to the store.  Chester Perkins and others were
+watching him with various emotions from the stoop, and Bijah took a seat
+in the midst of them, characteristically engaging in conversation without
+the usual conventional forms of greeting, as if he had been there all
+day.
+
+"H-how much did you git for your wool, Chester--h-how much?"
+
+"Guess you hain't here to talk about wool, Bije," said Chester, red with
+anger.
+
+"Kind of neglectin' the farm lately, I hear," observed Bijah.
+
+"Jethro Bass sent you up to find out how much I was neglectin' it,"
+retorted Chester, throwing all caution to the winds.
+
+"Thinkin' of upsettin' Jethro, be you?  Thinkin' of upsettin' Jethro?"
+remarked Bije, in a genial tone.
+
+"Folks in Clovelly hain't got nothin' to do with it, if I am," said
+Chester.
+
+"Leetle early for campaignin', Chester, leetle early."
+
+"We do our campaignin' when we're a mind to."
+
+Bijah looked around.
+
+"Well, that's funny.  I could have took oath I seed Rias Richardson
+here."
+
+There was a deep silence.
+
+"And Sam Price," continued Bijah, in pretended astonishment, "wahn't he
+settin' on the edge of the stoop when I drove up?"
+
+Another silence, broken only by the enraged breathing of Chester, who was
+unable to retort.  Moses Hatch laughed.  The discreet departure of these
+gentlemen certainly had its comical side.
+
+"Rias as indoostrious as ever, Mose?" inquired Bijah.
+
+"He has his busy times," said Mose, grinning broadly.
+
+"See you've got the boys with their backs up, Chester," said Bijah.
+
+"Some of us are sick of tyranny," cried Chester; "you kin tell that to
+Jethro Bass when you go back, if he's got time to listen to you buyin'
+and sellin' out of railroads."
+
+"Hear Jethro's got the Grand Gulf Road in his pocket to do as he's a mind
+to with," said Moses, with a view to drawing Bijah out.  But the remark
+had exactly the opposite effect, Bijah screwing up his face into an
+expression of extraordinary secrecy and cunning.
+
+"How much did you git out of it, Bije?" demanded Chester.
+
+"Hain't looked through my clothes yet," said Bijah, his face screwed up
+tighter than ever.  "N-never look through my clothes till I git home,
+Chester, it hain't safe."
+
+It has become painfully evident that Mr. Bixby is that rare type of man
+who can sit down under the enemy's ramparts and smoke him out.  It was a
+rule of Jethro's code either to make an effective departure or else to
+remain and compel the other man to make an ineffective departure.  Lem
+Hallowell might have coped with him; but the stage was late, and after
+some scratching of heads and delving for effectual banter (through which
+Mr. Bixby sat genial and unconcerned), Chester's followers took their
+leave, each choosing his own pretext.
+
+In the meantime William Wetherell had entered the store by the back door
+--unperceived, as he hoped.  He had a vehement desire to be left in peace,
+and to avoid politics and political discussions forever--vain desire for
+the storekeeper of Coniston.  Mr. Wetherell entered the store, and to
+take his mind from his troubles, he picked up a copy of Byron: gradually
+the conversation on the stoop died away, and just as he was beginning to
+congratulate himself and enjoy the book, he had an unpleasant sensation
+of some one approaching him measuredly.  Wetherell did not move; indeed,
+he felt that he could not--he was as though charmed to the spot.  He
+could have cried aloud, but the store was empty, and there was no one to
+hear him.  Mr. Bixby did not speak until he was within a foot of his
+victim's ear.  His voice was very nasal, too.
+
+"Wetherell, hain't it?"
+
+The victim nodded helplessly.
+
+"Want to see you a minute."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Where can we talk private?" asked Mr. Bixby, looking around.
+
+"There's no one here," Wetherell answered.  "What do you wish to say?"
+
+"If the boys was to see me speakin' to you, they might git suspicious--
+you understand," he confided, his manner conveying a hint that they
+shared some common policy.
+
+"I don't meddle with politics," said Wetherell, desperately.
+
+"Exactly!" answered Bijah, coming even closer.  "I knowed you was a
+level-headed man, moment I set eyes on you.  Made up my mind I'd have a
+little talk in private with you--you understand.  The boys hain't got no
+reason to suspicion you care anything about politics, have they?"
+
+"None whatever."
+
+"You don't pay no attention to what they say?"
+
+"None."
+
+You hear it?"
+
+"Sometimes I can't help it."
+
+"Ex'actly!  You hear it."
+
+"I told you I couldn't help it."
+
+"Want you should vote right when the time comes," said Bijah.  "D-don't
+want to see such an intelligent man go wrong an' be sorry for it--you
+understand.  Chester Perkins is hare-brained.  Jethro Bass runs things in
+this state."
+
+"Mr. Bixby--"
+
+"You understand," said Bijah, screwing up his face.  "Guess your watch is
+a-comin' out."  He tucked it back caressingly, and started for the door--
+the back door.  Involuntarily Wetherell put his hand to his pocket, felt
+something crackle under it, and drew the something out.  To his amazement
+it was a ten-dollar bill.
+
+"Here!" he cried so sharply in his fright that Mr. Bixby, turned around.
+Wetherell ray after him.  "Take this back!"
+
+"Guess you got me," said Bijah.  "W-what is it?"
+
+"This money is yours," cried Wetherell, so loudly that Bijah started and
+glanced at the front of the store.
+
+"Guess you made some mistake," he said, staring at the storekeeper with
+such amazing innocence that he began to doubt his senses, and clutched
+the bill to see if it was real.
+
+"But I had no money in my pocket," said Wetherell, perplexedly.  And
+then, gaining, indignation, "Take this to the man who sent you, and give
+it back to him."
+
+But Bijah merely whispered caressingly in his ear, "Nobody sent me,--you
+understand,--nobody sent me," and was gone.  Wetherell stood for a
+moment, dazed by the man's audacity, and then, hurrying to the front
+stoop, the money still in his hand, he perceived Mr. Bixby in the sunlit
+road walking, Jethro-fashion, toward Ephraim Prescott's harness shop.
+
+"Why, Daddy," said Cynthia, coming in from the garden, "where did you get
+all that money?  Your troubles must feel better."
+
+"It is not mine," said Wetherell, starting.  And then, quivering with
+anger and mortification, he sank down on the stoop to debate what he
+should do.
+
+"Is it somebody else's?" asked the child, presently.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then why don't you give it back to them, Daddy?"
+
+How was Wetherell to know, in his fright, that Mr. Bixby had for once
+indulged in an overabundance of zeal in Jethro's behalf?  He went to the
+door, laughter came to him across the green from the harness shop, and
+his eye following the sound, fastened on Bijah seated comfortably in the
+midst of the group there.  Bitterly the storekeeper comprehended that,
+had he possessed courage, he would have marched straight after Mr. Bixby
+and confronted him before them all with the charge of bribery.  The blood
+throbbed in his temples, and yet he sat there, trembling, despising
+himself, repeating that he might have had the courage if Jethro Bass had
+not bought the mortgage.  The fear of the man had entered the
+storekeeper's soul.
+
+"Does it belong to that man over there?" asked Cynthia.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I'll take it to him, Daddy," and she held out her hand.
+
+"Not now," Wetherell answered nervously, glancing at the group.  He went
+into the store, addressed an envelope to "Mr. Bijah Bixby of Clovelly,"
+and gave it to Cynthia.  "When he comes back for his wagon, hand it to
+him," he said, feeling that he would rather, at that moment, face the
+devil himself than Mr. Bixby.
+
+Half an hour later, Cynthia gave Mr. Bixby the envelope as he unhitched
+his horse; and so deftly did Bijah slip it into his pocket, that he must
+certainly have misjudged its contents.  None of the loungers at Ephraim's
+remarked the transaction.
+
+If Jethro had indeed instructed Bijah to look after his flock at
+Coniston, it was an ill-conditioned move, and some of the flock resented
+it when they were quite sure that Bijah was climbing the notch road
+toward Clovelly.  The discussion (from which the storekeeper was
+providentially omitted) was in full swing when the stage arrived, and Lem
+Hallowell's voice silenced the uproar.  It was Lem's boast that he never
+had been and never would be a politician.
+
+"Why don't you folks quit railin' against Jethro and do somethin'?" he
+said.  "Bije turns up here, and you all scatter like a flock of crows.
+I'm tired of makin' complaints about that Brampton road, and to-day the
+hull side of it give way, and put me in the ditch.  Sure as the sun rises
+to-morrow, I'm goin' to make trouble for Jethro."
+
+"What be you a-goin' to do, Lem?"
+
+"Indict the town," replied Lem, vigorously.  "Who is the town?  Jethro,
+hain't he?  Who has charge of the highways?  Jethro Bass, Chairman of the
+Selectmen.  I've spoke to him, time and agin, about that piece, and he
+hain't done nothin'.  To-night I go to Harwich and git the court to
+app'int an agent to repair that road, and the town'll hev to pay the
+bill."
+
+The boldness of Lem's intention for the moment took away their breaths,
+and then the awe-stricken hush which followed his declaration was broken
+by the sound of Chester's fist hammering on the counter.
+
+"That's the sperrit," he cried; "I'll go along with you, Lem."
+
+"No, you won't," said Lem, "you'll stay right whar you be."
+
+"Chester wants to git credit for the move," suggested Sam Price, slyly.
+
+"It's a lie, Sam Price," shouted Chester.  "What made you sneak off when
+Bije Bixby come?"
+
+"Didn't sneak off," retorted Sam, indignantly, through his nose; "forgot
+them eggs I left to home."
+
+"Sam, said Lem, with a wink at Moses Hatch, "you hitch up your hoss and
+fetch me over to Harwich to git that indictment.  Might git a chance to
+see that lady."
+
+"Wal, now, I wish I could, Lem, but my hoss is stun lame."
+
+There was a roar of laughter, during which Sam tried to look unconcerned.
+
+"Mebbe Rias'll take me over," said Lem, soberly.  "You hitch up, Rias?"
+
+"He's gone," said Joe Northcutt, "slid out the door when you was speakin'
+to Sam."
+
+"Hain't none of you folks got spunk enough to carry me over to see the
+jedge?" demanded Lem; "my horses ain't fit to travel to-night."  Another
+silence followed, and Lem laughed contemptuously but good-naturedly, and
+turned on his heel.  "Guess I'll walk, then," he said.
+
+"You kin have my white hoss, Lem," said Moses Hatch.
+
+"All right," said Lem;" I'll come round and hitch up soon's I git my
+supper."
+
+An hour later, when Cynthia and her father and Millicent Skinner--who
+condescended to assist in the work and cooking of Mr. Wetherell's
+household--were seated at supper in the little kitchen behind the store,
+the head and shoulders of the stage-driver were thrust in at the window,
+his face shining from its evening application of soap and water.  He was
+making eyes at Cynthia.
+
+"Want to go to Harwich, Will?" he asked.
+
+William set his cup down quickly.
+
+"You hain't afeard, be you?" he continued. "Most folks that hasn't went
+West or died is afeard of Jethro Bass."
+
+"Daddy isn't afraid of him, and I'm not," said Cynthia.
+
+"That's right, Cynthy," said Lem, leaning over and giving a tug to the
+pigtail that hung down her back; "there hain't nothin' to be afeard of."
+
+"I like him," said Cynthia; "he's very good to me."
+
+"You stick to him, Cynthy," said the stage driver.
+
+"Ready, Will?"
+
+It may readily be surmised that Mr. Wetherell did not particularly wish
+to make this excursion, the avowed object of which was to get Mr. Bass
+into trouble.  But he went, and presently he found himself jogging along
+on the mountain road to Harwich.  From the crest of Town's End ridge they
+looked upon the western peaks tossing beneath a golden sky.  The spell of
+the evening's beauty seemed to have fallen on them both, and for a long
+time Lem spoke not a word, and nodded smilingly but absently to the
+greetings that came from the farm doorways.
+
+"Will," he said at last, "you acted sensible.  There's no mite of use of
+your gettin' mixed up in politics.  You're too good for 'em."
+
+"Too good!" exclaimed the storekeeper.
+
+"You're eddicated," Lem replied, with a tactful attempt to cover up a
+deficiency; "you're a gentleman, ef you do keep store."
+
+Lemuel apparently thought that gentlemen and politics were
+contradictions.  He began to whistle, while Wetherell sat and wondered
+that any one could be so care-free on such a mission.  The day faded, and
+went out, and the lights of Harwich twinkled in the valley.  Wetherell
+was almost tempted to mention his trouble to this man, as he had been to
+Ephraim: the fear that each might think he wished to borrow money held
+him back.
+
+"Jethro's all right," Lem remarked, "but if he neglects the road, he's
+got to stand for it, same's any other.  I writ him twice to the capital,
+and give him fair warning afore he went.  He knows I hain't doin' of it
+for politics.  I've often thought," Lem continued, "that ef some smart,
+good woman could have got hold of him when he was young, it would have
+made a big difference.  What's the matter?"
+
+"Have you room enough?"
+
+"I guess I've got the hull seat," said Lem.  "As I was sayin', if some
+able woman had married Jethro and made him look at things a little mite
+different, he would have b'en a big man.  He has all the earmarks.  Why,
+when he comes back to Coniston, them fellers'll hunt their holes like
+rabbits, mark my words."
+
+"You don't think--"
+
+"Don't think what?"
+
+"I understand he holds the mortgages of some of them," said Wetherell.
+
+"Shouldn't blame him a great deal ef he did git tired and sell Chester
+out soon.  This thing happens regular as leap year."
+
+"Jethro Bass doesn't seem to frighten you," said the storekeeper.
+
+"Well," said Lem, "I hain't afeard of him, that's so.  For the life of
+me, I can't help likin' him, though he does things that I wouldn't do for
+all the power in Christendom.  Here's Jedge Parkinson's house."
+
+Wetherell remained in the wagon while Lemuel went in to transact his
+business.  The judge's house, outlined in the starlight, was a modest
+dwelling with a little porch and clambering vines, set back in its own
+garden behind a picket fence.  Presently, from the direction of the lines
+of light in the shutters, came the sound of voices, Lem's deep and
+insistent, and another, pitched in a high nasal key, deprecatory and
+protesting.  There was still another, a harsh one that growled something
+unintelligible, and Wetherell guessed, from the fragments which he heard,
+that the judge before sitting down to his duty was trying to dissuade the
+stage driver from a step that was foolhardy.  He guessed likewise that
+Lem was not to be dissuaded.  At length a silence followed, then the door
+swung open, and three figures came down the illuminated path.
+
+"Like to make you acquainted with Jedge Abner Parkinson, Mr. Wetherell,
+and Jim Irving.  Jim's the sheriff of Truro County, and I guess the jedge
+don't need any recommendation as a lawyer from me.  You won't mind
+stayin' awhile with the jedge while Jim and I go down town with the team?
+You're both literary folks."
+
+Wetherell followed the judge into the house.  He was sallow, tall and
+spare and stooping, clean-shaven, with a hooked nose and bright eyes--the
+face of an able and adroit man, and he wore the long black coat of the
+politician-lawyer.  The room was filled with books, and from these Judge
+Parkinson immediately took his cue, probably through a fear that
+Wetherell might begin on the subject of Lemuel's errand.  However, it
+instantly became plain that the judge was a true book lover, and despite
+the fact that Lem's visit had disturbed him not a little, he soon grew
+animated in a discussion on the merits of Sir Walter Scott, paced the
+room, pitched his nasal voice higher and higher, covered his table with
+volumes of that author to illustrate his meaning.  Neither of them heard
+a knock, and they both stared dumfounded at the man who filled the
+doorway.
+
+It was Jethro Bass!
+
+He entered the room with characteristic unconcern, as if he had just left
+it on a trivial errand, and without a "How do you do?"  or a "Good
+evening," parted his coat tails, and sat down in the judge's armchair.
+The judge dropped the volume of Scott on the desk, and as for Wetherell,
+he realized for once the full meaning of the biblical expression of a
+man's tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth; the gleam of one of
+Jethro's brass buttons caught his eye and held it fascinated.
+
+"Literary talk, Judge?" said Jethro.  "D-don't mind me--go on."
+
+"Thought you were at the capital," said the judge, reclaiming some of his
+self-possession.
+
+"Good many folks thought so," answered Jethro, "g-good many folks."
+
+There was no conceivable answer to this, so the judge sat down with an
+affectation of ease.  He was a man on whom dignity lay heavily, and was
+not a little ruffled because Wetherell had been a witness of his
+discomfiture.  He leaned back in his chair, then leaned forward,
+stretching his neck and clearing his throat, a position in which he bore
+a ludicrous resemblance to a turkey gobbler.
+
+"Most through the Legislature?" inquired the judge.
+
+"'Bout as common," said Jethro.
+
+There was a long silence, and, forgetful for the moment of his own
+predicament, Wetherell found a fearful fascination in watching the
+contortions of the victim whose punishment was to precede his.  It had
+been one of the delights of Louis XI to contemplate the movements of a
+certain churchman whom he had had put in a cage, and some inkling of the
+pleasure to be derived from this pastime of tyrants dawned on Wetherell.
+Perhaps the judge, too, thought of this as he looked at "Quentin Durward"
+on the table.
+
+"I was just sayin' to Lem Hallowell," began the judge, at last, "that I
+thought he was a little mite hasty--"
+
+"Er--indicted us, Judge?" said Jethro.
+
+The judge and Wetherell heard the question with different emotions.  Mr.
+Parkinson did not seem astonished at the miracle which had put Jethro in
+possession of this information, but heaved a long sigh of relief, as a
+man will when the worst has at length arrived.
+
+"I had to, Jethro--couldn't help it.  I tried to get Hallowell to wait
+till you come back and talk it over friendly, but he wouldn't listen;
+said the road was dangerous, and that he'd spoken about it too often.  He
+said he hadn't anything against you."
+
+"Didn't come in to complain," said Jethro, "didn't come in to complain.
+Road is out of repair.  W-what's the next move?"
+
+"I'm sorry, Jethro--I swan I'm sorry."  He cleared his throat.  "Well,"
+he continued in his judicial manner, "the court has got to appoint an
+agent to repair that road, the agent will present the bill, and the town
+will have to pay the bill--whatever it is.  It's too bad, Jethro, that
+you have allowed this to be done."
+
+"You say you've got to app'int an agent?"
+
+"Yes--I'm sorry--"
+
+"Have you app'inted one?"
+
+"No."
+
+"G-got any candidates?"
+
+The judge scratched his head.
+
+"Well, I don't know as I have."
+
+"Well, have you?"
+
+"No," said the judge.
+
+"A-any legal objection to my bein' app'inted?" asked Jethro.
+
+The judge looked at him and gasped.  But the look was an involuntary
+tribute of admiration.
+
+"Well," he said hesitatingly, "I don't know as there is, Jethro.  No,
+there's no legal objection to it."
+
+"A-any other kind of objection?" said Jethro.
+
+The judge appeared to reflect.
+
+"Well, no," he said at last, "I don't know as there is."
+
+"Well, is there?" said Jethro, again.
+
+"No," said the judge, with the finality of a decision.  A smile seemed to
+be pulling at the corners of his mouth.
+
+"Well, I'm a candidate," said Jethro.
+
+"Do you tell me, Jethro, that you want me to appoint you agent to fix
+that road?"
+
+"I-I'm a candidate."
+
+"Well," said the judge, rising, "I'll do it."
+
+"When?" said Jethro, sitting still.
+
+"I'll send the papers over to you within two or three days.
+
+"O-ought to be done right away, Judge.  Road's in bad shape."
+
+"Well, I'll send the papers over to you to-morrow."
+
+"How long--would it take to make out that app'intment--how long?"
+
+"It wouldn't take but a little while."
+
+"I'll wait," said Jethro.
+
+"Do you want to take the appointment along with you to-night?" asked the
+judge, in surprise.
+
+"G-guess that's about it."
+
+Without a word the judge went over to his table, and for a while the
+silence was broken only by the scratching of his pen.
+
+"Er--interested in roads,--Will,--interested in roads?"
+
+The judge stopped writing to listen, since it was now the turn of the
+other victim.
+
+"Not particularly," answered Mr. Wetherell, whose throat was dry.
+
+"C-come over for the drive--c-come over for the drive?"
+
+"Yes," replied the storekeeper, rather faintly.
+
+"H-how's Cynthy?" said Jethro.
+
+The storekeeper was too astonished to answer.  At that moment there was a
+heavy step in the doorway, and Lem Hallowell entered the room.  He took
+one long look at Jethro and bent over and slapped his hand on his knee,
+and burst out laughing.
+
+"So here you be!" he cried.  "By Godfrey! ef you don't beat all outdoors,
+Jethro.  Wal, I got ahead of ye for once, but you can't say I didn't warn
+ye.  Come purty nigh bustin' the stage on that road today, and now I'm a-
+goin' to hev an agent app'inted."
+
+"W-who's the agent?" said Jethro.
+
+"We'll git one.  Might app'int Will, there, only he don't seem to want to
+get mixed up in it."
+
+"There's the agent," cried the judge, holding out the appointment to
+Jethro.
+
+"Wh-what?" ejaculated Lem.
+
+Jethro took the appointment, and put it in his cowhide wallet.
+
+"Be you the agent?" demanded the amazed stage driver.
+
+"C-callate to be," said Jethro, and without a smile or another word to
+any one he walked out into the night, and after various exclamations of
+astonishment and admiration, the stage driver followed.
+
+No one, indeed, could have enjoyed this unexpected coup of Jethro's more
+than Lem himself, and many times on their drive homeward he burst into
+loud and unexpected fits of laughter at the sublime conception of the
+Chairman of the Selectmen being himself appointed road agent.
+
+"Will," said he, "don't you tell this to a soul.  We'll have some fun out
+of some of the boys to-morrow."
+
+The storekeeper promised, but he had an unpleasant presentiment that he
+himself might be one of the boys in question.
+
+"How do you suppose Jethro Bass knew you were going to indict the town?"
+he asked of the stage driver.
+
+Lem burst into fresh peals of laughter; but this was something which he
+did not attempt to answer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+It so happened that there was a certain spinster whom Sam Price had been
+trying to make up his mind to marry for ten years or more, and it was
+that gentleman's habit to spend at least one day in the month in Harwich
+for the purpose of paying his respects.  In spite of the fact that his
+horse had been "stun lame" the night before, Mr. Price was able to start
+for Harwich, via Brampton, very early the next morning.  He was driving
+along through Northcutt's woods with one leg hanging over the wheel,
+humming through his nose what we may suppose to have been a love-ditty,
+and letting his imagination run riot about the lady in question, when he
+nearly fell out of his wagon.  The cause of this was the sight of fat Tom
+coming around a corner, with Jethro Bass behind him.  Lem Hallowell and
+the storekeeper had kept their secret so well that Sam, if he was
+thinking about Jethro at all, believed him at that moment to be seated in
+the Throne Room at the Pelican House, in the capital.
+
+Mr. Price, however, was one of an adaptable nature, and by the time he
+had pulled up beside Jethro he had recovered sufficiently to make a few
+remarks on farming subjects, and finally to express a polite surprise at
+Jethro's return.
+
+"But you come a little mite late, hain't you, Jethro?" he asked finally,
+with all of the indifference he could assume.
+
+"H-how's that, Sam--how's that?"
+
+"It's too bad,--I swan it is,--but Lem Hallowell rode over to Harwich
+last night and indicted the town for that piece of road by the Four
+Corners.  Took Will Wetherell along with him."
+
+"D-don't say so!" said Jethro.
+
+"I callate he done it," responded Sam, pulling a long face.  "The
+court'll hev to send an agent to do the job, and I guess you'll hev to
+foot the bill, Jethro."
+
+"C-court'll hev to app'int an agent?"
+
+"I callate."
+
+"Er--you a candidate--Sam--you a candidate?"
+
+"Don't know but what I be," answered the usually wary Mr. Price.
+
+"G-goin' to Harwich--hain't you?"
+
+"Mebbe I be, and mebbe I hain't," said Sam, not able to repress a self-
+conscious snicker.
+
+"M-might as well be you as anybody, Sam," said Jethro, as he drove on.
+
+It was not strange that the idea, thus planted, should grow in Mr.
+Price's favor as he proceeded.  He had been surprised at Jethro's
+complaisance, and he wondered whether, after all, he had done well to
+help Chester stir people up at this time.  When he reached Harwich,
+instead of presenting himself promptly at the spinster's house, he went
+first to the office of Judge Parkinson, as became a prudent man of
+affairs.
+
+Perhaps there is no need to go into the details of Mr. Price's
+discomfiture on the occasion of this interview.  The judge was by nature
+of a sour disposition, but he haw-hawed so loudly as he explained to Mr.
+Price the identity of the road agent that the judge of probate in the
+next office thought his colleague had gone mad.  Afterward Mr. Price
+stood for some time in the entry, where no one could see him, scratching
+his head and repeating his favorite exclamation, "I want to know!"  It
+has been ascertained that he omitted to pay his respects to the spinster
+on that day.
+
+Cyamon Johnson carried the story back to Coniston, where it had the
+effect of eliminating Mr. Price from local politics for some time to
+come.
+
+That same morning Chester Perkins was seen by many driving wildly about
+from farm to farm, supposedly haranguing his supporters to make a final
+stand against the tyrant, but by noon it was observed by those
+naturalists who were watching him that his activity had ceased. Chester
+arrived at dinner time at Joe Northcutt's, whose land bordered on the
+piece of road which had caused so much trouble, and Joe and half a dozen
+others had been at work there all morning under the road agent whom Judge
+Parkinson had appointed.  Now Mrs. Northcutt was Chester's sister, a
+woman who in addition to other qualities possessed the only sense of
+humor in the family.  She ushered the unsuspecting Chester into the
+kitchen, and there, seated beside Joe and sipping a saucer of very hot
+coffee, was Jethro Bass himself. Chester halted in the doorway, his face
+brick-red, words utterly failing him, while Joe sat horror-stricken,
+holding aloft on his fork a smoking potato.  Jethro continued to sip his
+coffee.
+
+"B-busy times, Chester," he said, "b-busy times."
+
+Chester choked.  Where were the burning words of denunciation which came
+so easily to his tongue on other occasions?  It is difficult to denounce
+a man who insists upon drinking coffee.
+
+"Set right down, Chester," said Mrs. Northcutt, behind him.
+
+Chester sat down, and to this day he cannot account for that action.
+Once seated, habit asserted itself; and he attacked the boiled dinner
+with a ferocity which should have been exercised against Jethro.
+
+"I suppose the stores down to the capital is finer than ever, Mr. Bass,"
+remarked Mrs. Northcutt.
+
+"So-so, Mis' Northcutt, so-so."
+
+"I was there ten years ago," remarked Mrs. Northcutt, with a sigh of
+reminiscence, "and I never see such fine silks and bonnets in my life.
+Now I've often wanted to ask you, did you buy that bonnet with the
+trembly jet things for Mis' Bass?"
+
+"That bonnet come out full better'n I expected," answered Jethro,
+modestly.
+
+"You have got taste in wimmin's fixin's, Mr. Bass.  Strange?  Now I
+wouldn't let Joe choose my things for worlds."
+
+So the dinner progressed, Joe with his eyes on his plate, Chester silent,
+but bursting with anger and resentment, until at last Jethro pushed back
+his chair, and said good day to Mrs. Northcutt and walked out.  Chester
+got up instantly and went after him, and Joe, full of forebodings,
+followed his brother-in-law!  Jethro was standing calmly on the grass
+plot, whittling a toothpick.  Chester stared at him a moment, and then
+strode off toward the barn, unhitched his horse and jumped in his wagon.
+Something prompted him to take another look at Jethro, who was still
+whittling.
+
+"C-carry me down to the road, Chester--c-carry me down to the road?" said
+Jethro.
+
+Joe Northcutt's knees gave way under him, and he sat down on a sugar
+kettle.  Chester tightened up his reins so suddenly that his horse
+reared, while Jethro calmly climbed into the seat beside him and they
+drove off.  It was some time before Joe had recovered sufficiently to
+arise and repair to the scene of operations on the road.
+
+It was Joe who brought the astounding news to the store that evening.
+Chester was Jethro's own candidate for senior Selectman!  Jethro himself
+had said so, that he would be happy to abdicate in Chester's favor, and
+make it unanimous--Chester having been a candidate so many times, and
+disappointed.
+
+"Whar's Chester?" said Lem Hallowell.
+
+Joe pulled a long face.
+
+"Just come from his house, and he hain't done a lick of work sence noon
+time.  Jest sets in a corner--won't talk, won't eat--jest sets thar."
+
+Lem sat down on the counter and laughed until he was forced to brush the
+tears from his cheeks at the idea of Chester Perkins being Jethro's
+candidate.  Where was reform now?  If Chester were elected, it would be
+in the eyes of the world as Jethro's man.  No wonder he sat in a corner
+and refused to eat.
+
+"Guess you'll ketch it next, Will, for goin' over to Harwich with Lem,"
+Joe remarked playfully to the storekeeper, as he departed.
+
+These various occurrences certainly did not tend to allay the uneasiness
+of Mr. Wetherell.  The next afternoon, at a time when a slack trade was
+slackest, he had taken his chair out under the apple tree and was sitting
+with that same volume of Byron in his lap--but he was not reading.  The
+humorous aspects of the doings of Mr. Bass did not particularly appeal to
+him now; and he was, in truth, beginning to hate this man whom the fates
+had so persistently intruded into his life.  William Wetherell was not,
+it may have been gathered, what may be called vindictive.  He was a
+sensitive, conscientious person whose life should have been in the vale;
+and yet at that moment he had a fierce desire to confront Jethro Bass
+and--and destroy him.  Yes, he felt equal to that.
+
+Shocks are not very beneficial to sensitive natures.  William Wetherell
+looked up, and there was Jethro Bass on the doorstep.
+
+"G-great resource--readin'--great resource," he remarked.
+
+In this manner Jethro snuffed out utterly that passion to destroy, and
+another sensation took its place--a sensation which made it very
+difficult for William Wetherell to speak, but he managed to reply that
+reading had been a great resource to him.  Jethro had a parcel in his
+hand, and he laid it down on the step beside him; and he seemed, for once
+in his life, to be in a mood for conversation.
+
+"It's hard for me to read a book," he observed.  "I own to it--it's a
+little mite hard.  H-hev to kind of spell it out in places.  Hain't had
+much time for readin'.  But it's kind of pleasant to l'arn what other
+folks has done in the world by pickin' up a book.  T-takes your mind off
+things--don't it?"
+
+Wetherell felt like saying that his reading had not been able to do that
+lately.  Then he made the plunge, and shuddered as he made it.
+
+"Mr. Bass--I--I have been waiting to speak to you about that mortgage."
+
+"Er--yes," he answered, without moving his head, "er--about the
+mortgage."
+
+"Mr. Worthington told me that you had bought it."
+
+"Yes, I did--yes, I did."
+
+"I'm afraid you will have to foreclose," said Wetherell; "I cannot
+reasonably ask you to defer the payments any longer."
+
+"If I foreclose it, what will you do?" he demanded abruptly.
+
+There was but one answer--Wetherell would have to go back to the city and
+face the consequences.  He had not the strength to earn his bread on a
+farm.
+
+"If I'd a b'en in any hurry for the money--g-guess I'd a notified you,"
+said Jethro.
+
+"I think you had better foreclose, Mr. Bass," Wetherell answered; "I
+can't hold out any hopes to you that it will ever be possible for me to
+pay it off.  It's only fair to tell you that."
+
+"Well," he said, with what seemed a suspicion of a smile, "I don't know
+but what that's about as honest an answer as I ever got."
+
+"Why did you do it?" Wetherell cried, suddenly goaded by another fear;
+"why did you buy that mortgage?"
+
+But this did not shake his composure.
+
+"H-have a little habit of collectin' 'em," he answered, "same as you do
+books.  G-guess some of 'em hain't as valuable."
+
+William Wetherell was beginning to think that Jethro knew something also
+of such refinements of cruelty as were practised by Caligula.  He drew
+forth his cowhide wallet and produced from it a folded piece of newspaper
+which must, Wetherell felt sure, contain the mortgage in question.
+
+"There's one power I always wished I had," he observed, "the power to make
+folks see some things as I see 'em.  I was acrost the Water to-night, on
+my hill farm, when the sun set, and the sky up thar above the mountain
+was all golden bars, and the river all a-flamin' purple, just as if it
+had been dyed by some of them Greek gods you're readin' about.  Now if I
+could put them things on paper, I wouldn't care a haycock to be
+President.  No, sir."
+
+The storekeeper's amazement as he listened to this speech may be
+imagined.  Was this Jethro Bass?  If so, here was a side of him the
+existence of which no one suspected.  Wetherell forgot the matter in
+hand.
+
+"Why don't you put that on paper?" he exclaimed.
+
+Jethro smiled, and made a deprecating motion with his thumb.
+
+"Sometimes when I hain't busy, I drop into the state library at the
+capital and enjoy myself.  It's like goin' to another world without any
+folks to bother you.  Er--er--there's books I'd like to talk to you
+about--sometime."
+
+"But I thought you told me you didn't read much, Mr. Bass?"
+
+He made no direct reply, but unfolded the newspaper in his hand, and then
+Wetherell saw that it was only a clipping.
+
+"H-happened to run across this in a newspaper--if this hain't this
+county, I wahn't born and raised here.  If it hain't Coniston Mountain
+about seven o'clock of a June evening, I never saw Coniston Mountain.
+Er--listen to this."
+
+Whereupon he read, with a feeling which Wetherell had not supposed he
+possessed, an extract: and as the storekeeper listened his blood began to
+run wildly. At length Jethro put down the paper without glancing at his
+companion.
+
+"There's somethin' about that that fetches you spinnin' through the air,"
+he said slowly.  "Sh-showed it to Jim Willard, editor of the Newcastle
+Guardian.  Er--what do you think he said?"
+
+"I don't know," said Wetherell, in a low voice.
+
+"Willard said, 'Bass, w-wish you'd find me that man.  I'll give  him five
+dollars every week for a letter like that--er--five dollars a week.'"
+
+He paused, folded up the paper again and put it in his pocket, took out a
+card and handed it to Wetherell.
+
+               James G. Willard, Editor.
+                  Newcastle Guardian.
+
+"That's his address," said Jethro.  "Er--guess you'll know what to do
+with it.  Er--five dollars a week--five dollars a week."
+
+"How did you know I wrote this article?" said Wetherell, as the card
+trembled between his fingers.
+
+"K-knowed the place was Coniston seen from the 'east, knowed there wahn't
+any one is Brampton or Harwich could have done it--g-guessed the rest--
+guessed the rest."
+
+Wetherell could only stare at him like a man who, with the halter about
+his neck, has been suddenly reprieved.  But Jethro Bass did not appear to
+be waiting for thanks.  He cleared his throat, and had Wetherell not been
+in such a condition himself, he would actually have suspected him of
+embarrassment.
+
+"Er--Wetherell?"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"W-won't say nothin' about the mortgage--p-pay it when you can."
+
+This roused the storekeeper to a burst of protest, but he stemmed it.
+
+"Hain't got the money, have you?"
+
+"No--but--"
+
+"If I needed money, d'ye suppose I'd bought the mortgage?"
+
+"No," answered the still bewildered Wetherell, "of course not."  There he
+stuck, that other suspicion of political coercion suddenly rising
+uppermost.  Could this be what the man meant?  Wetherell put his hand to
+his head, but he did not dare to ask the question.  Then Jethro Bass
+fixed his eyes upon him.
+
+"Hain't never mixed any in politics--hev you n-never mixed any?"
+
+Wetherell's heart sank.
+
+"No," he answered.
+
+"D-don't--take my advice--d-don't."
+
+"What!" cried the storekeeper, so loudly that he frightened himself.
+
+"D-don't," repeated Jethro, imperturbably.
+
+There was a short silence, the storekeeper being unable to speak.
+Coniston Water, at the foot of the garden, sang the same song, but it
+seemed to Wetherell to have changed its note from sorrow to joy.
+
+"H-hear things, don't you--hear things in the store?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Don't hear 'em.  Keep out of politics, Will, s-stick to store-keepin'
+and--and literature."
+
+Jethro got to his feet and turned his back on the storekeeper and picked
+up the parcel be had brought.
+
+"C-Cynthy well?" he inquired.
+
+"I--I'll call her," said Wetherell, huskily.  "She--she was down by the
+brook when you came."
+
+But Jethro Bass did not wait.  He took his parcel and strode down to
+Coniston Water, and there he found Cynthia seated on a rock with her toes
+in a pool.
+
+"How be you, Cynthy?" said he, looking down at her.
+
+"I'm well, Uncle Jethro," said Cynthia.
+
+"R-remembered what I told you to call me, hev you," said Jethro, plainly
+pleased.  "Th-that's right.  Cynthy?"
+
+Cynthia looked up at him inquiringly.
+
+"S-said you liked books--didn't you?  S-said you liked books?"
+
+"Yes, I do," she replied simply, "very much."
+
+He undid the wrapping of the parcel, and there lay disclosed a book with
+a very gorgeous cover.  He thrust it into the child's lap.
+
+"It's 'Robinson Crusoe'!" she exclaimed, and gave a little shiver of
+delight that made ripples in the pool.  Then she opened it--not without
+awe, for William Wetherell's hooks were not clothed in this magnificent
+manner.  "It's full of pictures," cried Cynthia.  "See, there he is
+making a ship!"
+
+"Y-you read it, Cynthy?" asked Jethro, a little anxiously.
+
+No, Cynthia hadn't.
+
+"L-like it, Cynthy--l-like it?" said he, not quite so anxiously.
+
+Cynthia looked up at him with a puzzled expression.
+
+"F-fetched it up from the capital for you, Cynthy--for you."
+
+"For me!"
+
+A strange thrill ran through Jethro Bass as he gazed upon the wonder and
+delight in the face of the child.
+
+"F-fetched it for you, Cynthy."
+
+For a moment Cynthia sat very still, and then she slowly closed the book
+and stared at the cover again, Jethro looking down at her the while.  To
+tell the truth, she found it difficult to express the emotions which the
+event had summoned up.
+
+"Thank you--Uncle Jethro," she said.
+
+Jethro, however, understood.  He had, indeed, never failed to understand
+her from the beginning.  He parted his coat tails and sat down on the
+rock beside her, and very gently opened the book again, to the first
+chapter.
+
+"G-goin' to read it, Cynthy?"
+
+"Oh, yes," she said, and trembled again.
+
+"Er--read it to me?"
+
+So Cynthia read "Robinson Crusoe" to him while the summer afternoon wore
+away, and the shadows across the pool grew longer and longer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+Thus William Wetherell became established in Coniston, and was started at
+last--poor man--upon a life that was fairly tranquil.  Lem Hallowell had
+once covered him with blushes by unfolding a newspaper in the store and
+reading an editorial beginning: "We publish today a new and attractive
+feature of the Guardian, a weekly contribution from a correspondent whose
+modesty is to be compared only with his genius as a writer.  We are
+confident that the readers of our Raper will appreciate the letter in
+another column signed 'W. W.'"  And from that day William was accorded
+much of the deference due to a litterateur which the fates had hitherto
+denied him.  Indeed, during the six years which we are about to skip over
+so lightly, he became a marked man in Coniston, and it was voted in towns
+meeting that he be intrusted with that most important of literary labors,
+the Town History of Coniston.
+
+During this period, too, there sprang up the strangest of intimacies
+between him and Jethro Bass.  Surely no more dissimilar men than these
+have ever been friends, and that the friendship was sometimes misjudged
+was one of the clouds on William Wetherell's horizon.  As the years went
+on he was still unable to pay off the mortgage; and sometimes, indeed, he
+could not even meet the interest, in spite of the princely sum he
+received from Mr. Willard of the Guardian.  This was one of the clouds on
+Jethro's horizon, too, if men had but known it, and he took such moneys
+as Wetherell insisted upon giving him grudgingly enough. It is needless
+to say that he refrained from making use of Mr. Wetherell politically,
+although no poorer vessel for political purposes was ever constructed.
+It is quite as needless to say, perhaps, that Chester Perkins never got
+to be Chairman of the Board of Selectmen.
+
+After Aunt Listy died, Jethro was more than ever to be found, when in
+Coniston, in the garden or the kitchen behind the store.  Yes, Aunt Listy
+is dead.  She has flitted through these pages as she flitted through life
+itself, arrayed by Jethro like the rainbow, and quite as shadowy and
+unreal.  There is no politician of a certain age in the state who does
+not remember her walking, clad in dragon-fly colors, through the streets
+of the capital on Jethro's arm, or descending the stairs of the Pelican
+House to supper.  None of Jethro's detractors may say that he ever failed
+in kindness to her, and he loved her as much as was in his heart to love
+any woman after Cynthia Ware.  As for Aunt Listy, she never seemed to
+feel any resentment against the child Jethro brought so frequently to
+Thousand Acre Hill.  Poor Aunt Listy!  some people used to wonder whether
+she ever felt any emotion at all.  But I believe that she did, in her own
+way.
+
+It is a well-known fact that Mr. Bijah Bixby came over from Clovelly, to
+request the place of superintendent of the funeral, a position which had
+already been filled.  A special office, too, was created on this occasion
+for an old supporter of Jethro's, Senator Peleg Hartington of Brampton.
+He was made chairman of the bearers, of whom Ephraim Prescott was one.
+
+After this, as we have said, Jethro was more than ever at the store--or
+rather in that domestic domain behind it which Wetherell and Cynthia
+shared with Miss Millicent Skinner.  Moses Hatch was wont to ask Cynthia
+how her daddies were.  It was he who used to clear out the road to the
+little schoolhouse among the birches when the snow almost buried the
+little village, and on sparkling mornings after the storms his oxen would
+stop to breathe in front of the store, a cluster of laughing children
+clinging to the snow-plough and tumbling over good-natured Moses in their
+frolics.  Cynthia became a country girl, and grew long and lithe of limb,
+and weather-burnt, and acquired an endurance that spoke wonders for the
+life-giving air of Coniston.  But she was a serious child, and Wetherell
+and Jethro sometimes wondered whether she was ever a child at all.  When
+Eben Hatch fell from the lumber pile on the ice, it was she who bound the
+cut in his head; and when Tom Richardson unexpectedly embraced the
+schoolhouse stove, Cynthia, not Miss Rebecca Northcutt, took charge of
+the situation.
+
+It was perhaps inevitable, with such a helpless father, that the girl
+should grow up with a sense of responsibility, being what she was.  Did
+William Wetherell go to Brampton, Cynthia examined his apparel, and he
+was marched shamefacedly back to his room to change; did he read too late
+at night, some unseen messenger summoned her out of her sleep, and he was
+packed off to bed.  Miss Millicent Skinner, too, was in a like mysterious
+way compelled to abdicate her high place in favor of Cynthia, and
+Wetherell was utterly unable to explain how this miracle was
+accomplished.  Not only did Millicent learn to cook, but Cynthia, at the
+age of fourteen, had taught her.  Some wit once suggested that the
+national arms of the United States should contain the emblem of crossed
+frying-pans, and Millicent was in this respect a true American.  When
+Wetherell began to suffer from her pies and doughnuts, the revolution
+took place--without stampeding, or recriminations, or trouble of any
+kind.  One evening he discovered Cynthia, decked in an apron, bending
+over the stove, and Millicent looking on with an expression that was (for
+Millicent) benign.
+
+This was to some extent explained, a few days later, when Wetherell found
+himself gazing across the counter at the motherly figure of Mrs. Moses
+Hatch, who held the well-deserved honor of being the best cook in
+Coniston.
+
+"Hain't had so much stomach trouble lately, Will?" she remarked.
+
+"No," he answered, surprised; "Cynthia is learning to cook."
+
+"Guess she is," said Mrs. Moses.  "That gal is worth any seven grown-up
+women in town.  And she was four nights settin' in my kitchen before I
+knowed what she was up to."
+
+"So you taught her, Amanda?
+
+"I taught her some.  She callated that Milly was killin' you, and I guess
+she was."
+
+During her school days, Jethro used frequently to find himself in front
+of the schoolhouse when the children came trooping out--quite by
+accident, of course.  Winter or summer, when he went away on his
+periodical trips, he never came back without a little remembrance in his
+carpet bag, usually a book, on the subject of which he had spent hours in
+conference with the librarian at the state library at the capital.  But
+in June of the year when Cynthia was fifteen, Jethro yielded to that
+passion which was one of the man's strangest characteristics, and
+appeared one evening in the garden behind the store with a bundle which
+certainly did not contain a book.  With all the gravity of a ceremony he
+took off the paper, and held up in relief against the astonished Cynthia
+a length of cardinal cloth.  William Wetherell, who was looking out of
+the window, drew his breath, and even Jethro drew back with an
+exclamation at the change wrought in her.  But Cynthia snatched the roll
+from his hand and wound it up with a feminine deftness.
+
+"Wh-what's the matter, Cynthy?"
+
+"Oh, I can't wear that, Uncle Jethro," she said.
+
+"C-can't wear it!  Why not?"
+
+Cynthia sat down on the grassy mound under the apple tree and clasped her
+hands across her knees.  She looked up at him and shook her head.
+
+"Don't you see that I couldn't wear it, Uncle Jethro?"
+
+"Why not?" he demanded. "Ch-change it if you've a mind to hev green."
+
+She shook her head, and smiled at him a little sadly.
+
+"T-took me a full hour to choose that, Cynthy," said he.  "H-had to go to
+Boston so I got it there."
+
+He was, indeed, grievously disappointed at this reception of his gift,
+and he stood eying the cardinal cloth very mournfully as it lay on the
+paper.  Cynthia, remorseful, reached up and seized his hand.
+
+"Sit down here, Uncle Jethro."  He sat down on the mound beside her, very
+much perplexed.  She still held his hand in hers.  "Uncle Jethro," she
+said slowly, "you mustn't think I'm not grateful."
+
+"N-no," he answered; "I don't think that, Cynthy.  I know you be."
+
+"I am grateful--I'm very grateful for everything you give me, although I
+should love you just as much if you didn't give me anything."
+
+She was striving very hard not to offend him, for in some ways he was as
+sensitive as Wetherell himself.  Even Coniston folk had laughed at the
+idiosyncrasy which Jethro had of dressing his wife in brilliant colors,
+and the girl knew this.
+
+"G-got it for you to wear to Brampton on the Fourth of July, Cynthy," he
+said.
+
+"Uncle Jethro, I couldn't wear that to Brampton!"
+
+"You'd look like a queen," said he.
+
+"But I'm not a queen," objected Cynthia.
+
+"Rather hev somethin' else?"
+
+"Yes," she said, looking at him suddenly with the gleam of laughter in
+her eyes, although she was on the verge of tears.
+
+"Wh-what?" Jethro demanded.
+
+"Well," said Cynthia, demurely gazing down at her ankles, "shoes and
+stockings."  The barefooted days had long gone by.
+
+Jethro laughed.  Perhaps some inkling of her reasons came to him, for he
+had a strange and intuitive understanding of her.  At any rate, he
+accepted her decision with a meekness which would have astonished many
+people who knew only that side of him which he showed to the world.
+Gently she released her hand, and folded up the bundle again and gave it
+to him.
+
+"B-better keep it--hadn't you?"
+
+"No, you keep it.  And I will wear it for you when I am rich, Uncle
+Jethro."
+
+Jethro did keep it, and in due time the cardinal cloth had its uses.  But
+Cynthia did not wear it on the Fourth of July.
+
+That was a great day for Brampton, being not only the nation's birthday,
+but the hundredth year since the adventurous little band of settlers from
+Connecticut had first gazed upon Coniston Water at that place.  Early in
+the morning wagon loads began to pour into Brampton Street from Harwich,
+from Coniston, from Tarleton Four Corners, and even from distant
+Clovelly, and Brampton was banner-hung for the occasion--flags across the
+stores, across the dwellings, and draped along the whole breadth of the
+meeting-house; but for sheer splendor the newly built mansion of Isaac D.
+Worthington outshone them all.  Although its owner was a professed
+believer in republican simplicity, no such edifice ornamented any town to
+the west of the state capital.  Small wonder that the way in front of it
+was blocked by a crowd lost in admiration of its Gothic proportions!  It
+stands to-day one of many monuments to its builder, with its windows of
+one pane (unheard-of magnificence), its tower of stone, its porch with
+pointed arches and scroll-work.  No fence divides its grounds from the
+public walk, and on the smooth-shaven lawn between the ornamental flower
+beds and the walk stand two stern mastiffs of iron, emblematic of the
+solidity and power of their owner.  It was as much to see this house as
+to hear the oratory that the countryside flocked to Brampton that day.
+
+All the day before Cynthia and Milly, and many another housewife, had
+been making wonderful things for the dinners they were to bring, and
+stowing them in the great basket ready for the early morning start.  At
+six o'clock Jethro's three-seated farm wagon was in front of the store.
+Cousin Ephraim Prescott, in a blue suit and an army felt hat with a cord,
+got up behind, a little stiffly by reason of that Wilderness bullet; and
+there were also William Wetherell and Lem Hallowell, his honest face
+shining, and Sue, his wife, and young Sue and Jock and Lilian, all a-
+quiver with excitement in their Sunday best.
+
+And as they drove away there trotted up behind them Moses and Amandy
+Hatch, with their farm team, and all the little Hatches,--Eben and George
+and Judy and Liza.  As they jogged along they drank in the fragrance of
+the dew-washed meadows and the pines, and a great blue heron stood knee-
+deep on the far side of Deacon Lysander's old mill-pond, watching them
+philosophically as they passed.
+
+It was eight o'clock when they got into the press of Brampton Street, and
+there was a hush as they made their way slowly through the throng, and
+many a stare at the curious figure in the old-fashioned blue swallowtail
+and brass buttons and tall hat, driving the farm wagon.  Husbands pointed
+him out to their wives, young men to sisters and sweethearts, some
+openly, some discreetly.  "There goes Jethro Bass," and some were bold
+enough to say, "Howdy, Jethro?"  Jake Wheeler was to be observed in the
+crowd ahead of them, hurried for once out of his Jethro step, actually
+running toward the tavern, lest such a one arrive unheralded.  Commotion
+is perceived on the tavern porch,--Mr. Sherman, the proprietor, bustling
+out, Jake Wheeler beside him; a chorus of "How be you, Jethros?" from the
+more courageous there,--but the farm team jogs on, leaving a discomfited
+gathering, into the side street, up an alley, and into the cool, ammonia-
+reeking sheds of lank Jim Sanborn's livery stable.  No obsequiousness
+from lank Jim, who has the traces slipped and the reins festooned from
+the bits almost before Jethro has lifted Cynthia to the floor.  Jethro,
+walking between Cynthia and her father, led the way, Ephraim, Lem, and
+Sue Hallowell following, the children, in unwonted shoes and stockings,
+bringing up the rear.  The people parted, and presently they found
+themselves opposite the new-scrolled band stand among the trees, where
+the Harwich band in glittering gold and red had just been installed.  The
+leader; catching sight of Jethro's party, and of Ephraim's corded army
+hat, made a bow, waved his baton, and they struck up "Marching through
+Georgia."  It was, of course, not dignified to cheer, but I think that
+the blood of every man and woman and child ran faster with the music, and
+so many of them looked at Cousin Ephraim that he slipped away behind the
+line of wagons.  So the day began.
+
+"Jest to think of bein' that rich, Will!" exclaimed Amanda Hatch to the
+storekeeper, as they stood in the little group which had gathered in
+front of the first citizen's new mansion.  "I own it scares me.  Think
+how much that house must hev cost, and even them dogs," said Amanda,
+staring at the mastiffs with awe.  "They tell me he has a grand piano
+from New York, and guests from Boston railroad presidents.  I call Isaac
+Worthington to mind when he wahn't but a slip of a boy with a cough,
+runnin' after Cynthy Ware."  She glanced down at Cynthia with something
+of compassion. "Just to think, child, he might have be'n your father!"
+
+"I'm glad he isn't," said Cynthia, hotly.
+
+"Of course, of course," replied the good-natured and well-intentioned
+Amanda, "I'd sooner have your father than Isaac Worthington.  But I was
+only thinkin' how nice it would be to be rich."
+
+Just then one of the glass-panelled doors of this house opened, and a
+good-looking lad of seventeen came out.
+
+"That's Bob Worthington," said Amanda, determined that they should miss
+nothing.  "My! it wahn't but the other day when he put on long pants.  It
+won't be a great while before he'll go into the mills and git all that
+money.  Guess he'll marry some city person.  He'd ought to take you,
+Cynthy."
+
+"I don't want him," said Cynthia, the color flaming into her cheeks.  And
+she went off across the green in search of Jethro.
+
+There was a laugh from the honest country folk who had listened.  Bob
+Worthington came to the edge of the porch and stood there, frankly
+scanning the crowd, with an entire lack of self-consciousness.  Some of
+them shifted nervously, with the New Englander's dislike of being caught
+in the act of sight-seeing.
+
+"What in the world is he starin' at me for?" said Amanda, backing behind
+the bulkier form of her husband.  "As I live, I believe he's comin'
+here."
+
+Young Mr. Worthington was, indeed, descending the steps and walking
+across the lawn toward them, nodding and smiling to acquaintances as he
+passed.  To Wetherell's astonishment he made directly for the place where
+he was standing and held out his hand.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Wetherell?" he said.  "Perhaps you don't remember
+me,--Bob Worthington."
+
+I can't say that I should have known you," answered the storekeeper.
+They were all absurdly silent, thinking of nothing to say and admiring
+the boy because he was at ease.
+
+"I hope you have a good seat at the exercises," he said, pressing
+Wetherell's hand again, and before he could thank him, Bob was off in the
+direction of the band stand.
+
+"One thing," remarked Amanda, "he ain't much like his dad.  You'd never
+catch Isaac Worthington bein' that common."
+
+Just then there came another interruption for William Wetherell, who was
+startled by the sound of a voice in his ear--a nasal voice that awoke
+unpleasant recollections.  He turned to confront, within the distance of
+eight inches, the face of Mr. Bijah Bixby of Clovelly screwed up into a
+greeting.  The storekeeper had met Mr. Bixby several times since that
+first memorable meeting, and on each occasion, as now, his hand had made
+an involuntary movement to his watch pocket.
+
+"Hain't seed you for some time, Will," remarked Mr. Bixby; "goin' over to
+the exercises?  We'll move along that way," and he thrust his hand under
+Mr. Wetherell's elbow.  "Whar's Jethro?"
+
+"He's here somewhere," answered the storekeeper, helplessly, moving along
+in spite of himself.
+
+"Keepin' out of sight, you understand," said Bijah, with a knowing wink,
+as much as to say that Mr. Wetherell was by this time a past master in
+Jethro tactics.  Mr. Bixby could never disabuse his mind of a certain
+interpretation which he put on the storekeeper's intimacy with Jethro.
+"You done well to git in with him, Will.  Didn't think you had it in you
+when I first looked you over."
+
+Mr. Wetherell wished to make an indignant denial, but he didn't know
+exactly how to begin.
+
+"Smartest man in the United States of America--guess you know that," Mr.
+Bixby continued amiably. "They can't git at him unless he wants 'em to.
+There's a railroad president at Isaac Worthington's who'd like to git at
+him to-day,--guess you know that,--Steve Merrill."
+
+Mr. Wetherell didn't know, but he was given no time to say so.
+
+"Steve Merrill, of the Grand Gulf and Northern.  He hain't here to see
+Worthington; he's here to see Jethro, when Jethro's a mind to.  Guess you
+understand."
+
+"I know nothing about it," answered Wetherell, shortly.  Mr. Bixby gave
+him a look of infinite admiration, as though he could not have pursued
+any more admirable line.
+
+"I know Steve Merrill better'n I know you," said Mr. Bixby, "and he knows
+me.  Whenever he sees me at the state capital he says,  'How be you,
+Bije?' just as natural as if I was a railroad president, and slaps me on
+the back.  When be you goin' to the capital, Will?  You'd ought to come
+down and be thar with the boys on this Truro Bill.  You could reach some
+on 'em the rest of us couldn't git at."
+
+William Wetherell avoided a reply to this very pointed inquiry by
+escaping into the meeting-house, where he found Jethro and Cynthia and
+Ephraim already seated halfway up the aisle.
+
+On the platform, behind a bank of flowers, are the velvet covered chairs
+which contain the dignitaries of the occasion.  The chief of these is, of
+course, Mr. Isaac Worthington, the one with the hawk-like look, sitting
+next to the Rev. Mr. Sweet, who is rather pudgy by contrast.  On the
+other side of Mr. Sweet, next to the parlor organ and the quartette, is
+the genial little railroad president Mr. Merrill, batting the flies which
+assail the unprotected crown of his head, and smiling benignly on the
+audience.
+
+Suddenly his eye becomes fixed, and he waves a fat hand vigorously at
+Jethro, who answers the salute with a nod of unwonted cordiality for him.
+Then comes a hush, and the exercises begin.
+
+There is a prayer, of course, by the Rev. Mr. Sweet, and a rendering of
+"My Country" and "I would not Change my Lot," and other choice selections
+by the quartette; and an original poem recited with much feeling by a
+lady admirer of Miss Lucretia Penniman, and the "Hymn to Coniston"
+declaimed by Mr. Gamaliel Ives, president of the Brampton Literary Club.
+But the crowning event is, of course, the oration by Mr. Isaac D.
+Worthington, the first citizen, who is introduced under that title by the
+chairman of the day; and as the benefactor of Brampton, who has bestowed
+upon the town the magnificent gift which was dedicated such a short time
+ago, the Worthington Free Library.
+
+Mr. Isaac D. Worthington stood erect beside the table, his hand thrust
+into the opening of his coat, and spoke at the rate of one hundred and
+eight words a minute, for exactly one hour.  He sketched with much skill
+the creed of the men who had fought their way through the forests to
+build their homes by Coniston Water, who had left their clearings to risk
+their lives behind Stark and Ethan Allen for that creed; he paid a
+graceful tribute to the veterans of the Civil War, scattered among his
+hearers--a tribute, by the way, which for some reason made Ephraim very
+indignant.  Mr. Worthington went on to outline the duty of citizens of
+the present day, as he conceived it, and in this connection referred,
+with becoming modesty, to the Worthington Free Library.  He had made his
+money in Brampton, and it was but right that he should spend it for the
+benefit of the people of Brampton.  The library, continued Mr.
+Worthington when the applause was over, had been the dream of a certain
+delicate youth who had come, many years ago, to Brampton for his health.
+(It is a curious fact, by the way, that Mr. Worthington seldom recalled
+the delicate youth now, except upon public occasions.)
+
+Yes, the dream of that youth had been to benefit in some way that
+community in which circumstances had decreed that he should live, and in
+this connection it might not be out of place to mention a bill then
+before the Legislature of the state, now in session.  If the bill became
+a law, the greatest modern factor of prosperity, the railroad, would come
+to Brampton.  The speaker was interrupted here by more applause.  Mr.
+Worthington did not deem it dignified or necessary to state that the
+railroad to which he referred was the Truro Railroad; and that he, as the
+largest stockholder, might indirectly share that prosperity with
+Brampton.  That would be wandering too far, from his subject, which, it
+will be recalled, was civic duties.  He took a glass of water, and went
+on to declare that he feared--sadly feared--that the ballot was not held
+as sacred as it had once been.  He asked the people of Brampton, and of
+the state, to stop and consider who in these days made the laws and
+granted the franchises.  Whereupon he shook his head very slowly and
+sadly, as much as to imply that, if the Truro Bill did not pass, the
+corruption of the ballot was to blame.  No, Mr. Worthington could think
+of no better subject on this Birthday of Independence than a
+recapitulation of the creed of our forefathers, from which we had so far
+wandered.
+
+In short, the first citizen, as became him, had delivered the first
+reform speech ever heard in Brampton, and the sensation which it created
+was quite commensurate to the occasion.  The presence in the audience of
+Jethro Bass, at whom many believed the remarks to have been aimed, added
+no little poignancy to that sensation, although Jethro gave no outward
+signs of the terror and remorse by which he must have been struck while
+listening to Mr. Worthington's ruminations of the corruption of the
+ballot.  Apparently unconscious of the eyes upon him, he walked out of
+the meeting-house with Cynthia by his side, and they stood waiting for
+Wetherell and Ephraim under the maple tree there.
+
+The be-ribboned members of the Independence Day committee were now on the
+steps, and behind them came Isaac Worthington and Mr. Merrill.  The
+people, scenting a dramatic situation, lingered.  Would the mill owner
+speak to the boss?  The mill owner, with a glance at the boss, did
+nothing of the kind, but immediately began to talk rapidly to Mr.
+Merrill.  That gentleman, however, would not be talked to, but came
+running over to Jethro and seized his hand, leaving Mr. Worthington to
+walk on by himself.
+
+"Jethro," cried the little railroad president, "upon my word.  Well,
+well.  And Miss Jethro," he took off his hat to Cynthia, "well, well.
+Didn't know you had a girl, Jethro."
+
+"W-wish she was mine, Steve," said Jethro.  "She's a good deal to me as
+it is.  Hain't you, Cynthy?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia.
+
+"Well, well," said Mr. Merrill, staring at her, "you'll have to look out
+for her some day--keep the boys away from her--eh?  Upon my word!  Well,
+Jethro," said he, with a twinkle in his eye, "are you goin' to reform?
+I'll bet you've got an annual over my road in your pocket right now."
+
+"Enjoy the speech-makin', Steve?" inquired Mr. Bass, solemnly.
+
+Mr. Merrill winked at Jethro, and laughed heartily.
+
+"Keep the boys away from her, Jethro," he repeated, laying his hand on
+the shoulder of the lad who stood beside him.  "It's a good thing Bob's
+going off to Harvard this fall.  Seems to me I heard about some cutting
+up at Andover--eh, Bob?"
+
+Bob grinned, showing a line of very white teeth.
+
+Mr. Merrill took Jethro by the arm and led him off a little distance,
+having a message of some importance to give him, the purport of which
+will appear later.  And Cynthia and Bob were left face to face.  Of
+course Bob could have gone on, if he had wished it.
+
+"Don't remember me, do you?" he said.
+
+"I do now," said Cynthia, looking at him rather timidly through her
+lashes.  Her face was hot, and she had been, very uncomfortable during
+Mr. Merrill's remarks.  Furthermore, Bob had not taken his eyes off her.
+
+"I remembered you right away," he said reproachfully; "I saw you in front
+of the house this morning, and you ran away."
+
+"I didn't runaway," replied Cynthia, indignantly.
+
+"It looked like it, to me," said Bob..  "I suppose you were afraid I was
+going to give you anther whistle."
+
+Cynthia bit her lip, and then she laughed.  Then she looked around to see
+where Jethro was, and discovered that they were alone in front of the
+meeting-house.  Ephraim and her father had passed on while Mr. Merrill
+was talking.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Bob.
+
+"I'm afraid they've gone," said Cynthia.  "I ought to be going after
+them.  They'll miss me."
+
+"Oh, no, they won't," said Bob, easily, "let's sit down under the tree.
+They'll come back."
+
+Whereupon he sat down under the maple.  But Cynthia remained standing,
+ready to fly.  She had an idea that it was wrong to stay--which made it
+all the more delightful.
+
+"Sit down--Cynthia," said he.
+
+She glanced down at him, startled.  He was sitting, with his legs
+crossed, looking up at her intently.
+
+"I like that name," he observed.  "I like it better than any girl's name
+I know.  Do be good-natured and sit down."  And he patted the ground
+close beside him.
+
+Shy laughed again.  The laugh had in it an exquisite note of shyness,
+which he liked.
+
+"Why do you want me to sit down?" she asked suddenly.
+
+"Because I want to talk to you."
+
+"Can't you talk to me standing up?"
+
+"I suppose I could," said Bob, "but--I shouldn't be able to say such nice
+things to you."
+
+The corners of her mouth trembled a little.
+
+"And whose loss would that be?" she asked.
+
+Bob Worthington was surprised at this retort, and correspondingly
+delighted.  He had not expected it in a country storekeeper's daughter,
+and he stared at Cynthia so frankly that she blushed again, and turned
+away.  He was a young man who, it may be surmised, had had some
+experience with the other sex at Andover and elsewhere.  He had not spent
+all of his life in Brampton.
+
+"I've often thought of you since that day when you wouldn't take the
+whistle," he declared.  "What are you laughing at?"
+
+"I'm laughing at you," said Cynthia, leaning against the tree, with her
+hands behind her.
+
+"You've been laughing at me ever since you've stood there," he said,
+aggrieved that his declarations should not betaken more seriously.
+
+"What have you thought about me?" she demanded.  She was really beginning
+to enjoy this episode.
+
+"Well--" he began, and hesitated--and broke down and laughed--Cynthia
+laughed with him.
+
+"I can tell you what I didn't think," said Bob.
+
+"What?" asked Cynthia, falling into the trap.
+
+"I didn't think you'd be so--so good-looking," said he, quite boldly.
+
+"And I didn't think you'd be so rude," responded Cynthia.  But though she
+blushed again, she was not exactly displeased.
+
+"What are you going to do this afternoon?" he asked.  "Let's go for a
+walk."
+
+"I'm going back to Coniston."
+
+"Let's go for a walk now," said he, springing to his feet.  "Come on."
+
+Cynthia looked at him and shook her head smilingly.
+
+"Here's Uncle Jethro--"
+
+"Uncle Jethro!" exclaimed Bob, "is he your uncle?"
+
+"Oh, no, not really.  But he's just the same.  He's very good to me."
+
+"I wonder whether he'd mind if I called him Uncle Jethro, too," said Bob,
+and Cynthia laughed at the notion.  This young man was certainly very
+comical, and very frank.  "Good-by," he said; "I'll come to see you some
+day in Coniston."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+That evening, after Cynthia had gone to bed, William Wetherell sat down
+at Jonah Winch's desk in the rear of the store to gaze at a blank sheet
+of paper until the Muses chose to send him subject matter for his weekly
+letter to the Guardian.  The window was open, and the cool airs from the
+mountain spruces mingled with the odors of corn meal and kerosene and
+calico print.  Jethro Bass, who had supped with the storekeeper, sat in
+the wooden armchair silent, with his head bent.  Sometimes he would sit
+there by the hour while Wetherell wrote or read, and take his departure
+when he was so moved without saying good night.  Presently Jethro lifted
+his chin, and dropped it again; there was a sound of wheels without, and,
+after an interval, a knock at the door.
+
+William Wetherell dropped his pen with a start of surprise, as it was
+late for a visitor in Coniston.  He glanced at Jethro, who did not move,
+and then he went to the door and shot back the great forged bolt of it,
+and stared out.  On the edge of the porch stood a tallish man in a
+double-breasted frock coat.
+
+"Mr. Worthington!" exclaimed the storekeeper.
+
+Mr. Worthington coughed and pulled at one of his mutton-chop whiskers,
+and seemed about to step off the porch again.  It was, indeed, the first
+citizen and reformer of Brampton.  No wonder William Wetherell was
+mystified.
+
+"Can I do anything for you?" he asked.  "Have you missed your way?"
+
+Wetherell thought he heard him muttering, "No, no," and then he was
+startled by another voice in his ear.  It was Jethro who was standing
+beside him.
+
+"G-guess he hain't missed his way a great deal.  Er--come in--come in."
+
+Mr. Worthington took a couple of steps forward.
+
+"I understood that you were to be alone," he remarked, addressing Jethro
+with an attempted severity of manner.
+
+"Didn't say so--d-didn't say so, did I?" answered Jethro.
+
+"Very well," said Mr. Worthington, "any other time will do for this
+little matter."
+
+"Er--good night," said Jethro, shortly, and there was the suspicion of a
+gleam in his eye as Mr. Worthington turned away.  The mill-owner, in
+fact, did not get any farther than the edge of the porch before he
+wheeled again.
+
+"The affair which I have to discuss with you is of a private nature, Mr.
+Bass," he said.
+
+"So I callated," said Jethro.
+
+"You may have the place to yourselves, gentlemen," Wetherell put in
+uneasily, and then Mr. Worthington came as far as the door, where he
+stood looking at the storekeeper with scant friendliness.  Jethro turned
+to Wetherell.
+
+"You a politician, Will?" he demanded.
+
+"No," said Wetherell.
+
+"You a business man?"
+
+"No," he said again.
+
+"You ever tell folks what you hear other people say?"
+
+"Certainly not," the storekeeper answered; "I'm not interested in other
+people's business."
+
+"Exactly," said Jethro.  "Guess you'd better stay."
+
+"But I don't care to stay," Wetherell objected.
+
+"Stay to oblige me--stay to oblige me?" he asked.
+
+"Well, yes, if you put it that way," Wetherell said, beginning to get
+some amusement out of the situation.
+
+He did not know what Jethro's object was in this matter; perhaps others
+may guess.
+
+Mr. Worthington, who had stood by with ill-disguised impatience during
+this colloquy, note broke in.
+
+"It is most unusual, Mr. Bass, to have a third person present at a
+conference in which he has no manner of concern.  I think on the whole,
+since you have insisted upon my coming to you--"
+
+"H-hain't insisted that I know of," said Jethro.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Worthington, "never mind that.
+
+"Perhaps it would be better for me to come to you some other time, when
+you are alone."
+
+In the meantime Wetherell had shut the door, and they had gradually
+walked to the rear of the store.  Jethro parted his coat tails, and sat
+down again in the armchair.  Wetherell, not wishing to be intrusive, went
+to his desk again, leaving the first citizen standing among the barrels.
+
+"W-what other time?" Jethro asked.
+
+"Any other time," said Mr. Worthington.
+
+"What other time?"
+
+"To-morrow night?" suggested Mr. Worthington, striving to hide his
+annoyance.
+
+"B-busy to-morrow night," said Jethro.
+
+"You know that what I have to talk to you about is of the utmost
+importance," said Worthington.  "Let us say Saturday night."
+
+"B-busy Saturday night," said Jethro.  "Meet you to-morrow."
+
+"What time?"
+
+"Noon," said Jethro, "noon."
+
+"Where?" asked Mr. Worthington, dubiously.
+
+"Band stand in Brampton Street," said Jethro, and the storekeeper was
+fain to bend over his desk to conceal his laughter, busying himself with
+his books.  Mr. Worthington sat down with as much dignity as he could
+muster on one of Jonah's old chairs, and Jonah Winch's clock ticked and
+ticked, and Wetherell's pen scratched and scratched on his weekly letter
+to Mr. Willard, although he knew that he was writing the sheerest
+nonsense.  As a matter of fact, he tore up the sheets the next morning
+without reading them.  Mr. Worthington unbuttoned his coat, fumbled in
+his pocket, and pulled out two cigars, one of which he pushed toward
+Jethro, who shook his head.  Mr. Worthington lighted his cigar and
+cleared his throat.
+
+"Perhaps you have observed, Mr. Bass," he said, "that this is a rapidly
+growing section of the state--that the people hereabouts are every day
+demanding modern and efficient means of communication with the outside
+world."
+
+"Struck you as a mill owner, has it?" said Jethro.
+
+"I do not care to emphasize my private interests," answered Mr.
+Worthington, at last appearing to get into his stride again.  "I wish to
+put the matter on broader grounds.  Men like you and me ought not to be
+so much concerned with our own affairs as with those of the population
+amongst whom we live.  And I think I am justified in putting it to you on
+these grounds."
+
+"H-have to be justified, do you--have to be justified?" Jethro inquired.
+"Er--why?"
+
+This was a poser, and for a moment he stared at Jethro, blankly, until he
+decided how to take it.  Then he crossed his legs and blew smoke toward
+the ceiling.
+
+"It is certainly fairer to everybody to take the broadest view of a
+situation," he remarked; "I am trying to regard this from the aspect of a
+citizen, and I am quite sure that it will appeal to you in the same
+light.  If the spirit which imbued the founders of this nation means
+anything, Mr. Bass, it means that the able men who are given a chance to
+rise by their own efforts must still retain the duties and
+responsibilities of the humblest citizens.  That, I take it, is our
+position, Mr. Bass,--yours and mine."
+
+Mr. Worthington had uncrossed his legs, and was now by the inspiration of
+his words impelled to an upright position.  Suddenly he glanced at
+Jethro, and started for Jethro had sunk down on the small of his back,
+his chin on his chest, in an attitude of lassitude if not of oblivion.
+There was a silence perhaps a little disconcerting for Mr. Worthington,
+who chose the opportunity to relight his cigar.
+
+"G-got through?" said Jethro, without moving, "g-got through?"
+
+"Through?" echoed Mr. Worthington, "through what?"
+
+"T-through Sunday-school," said Jethro.
+
+Worthington dropped his match and stamped on it, and Wetherell began to
+wonder how much the man would stand.  It suddenly came over the
+storekeeper that the predicament in which Mr. Worthington found himself
+whatever it was--must be a very desperate one.  He half rose in his
+chair, sat down again, and lighted another match.
+
+"Er--director in the Truro Road, hain't you, Mr. Worthington?"  asked
+Jethro, without looking at him.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Er--principal stockholder--ain't you?"
+
+"Yes--but that is neither here nor there, sir."
+
+"Road don't pay--r-road don't pay, does it?"
+
+"It certainly does not."
+
+"W-would pay if it went to Brampton and Harwich?"
+
+"Mr. Bass, the company consider that they are pledged to the people of
+this section to get the road through.  I am not prepared to say whether
+the road would pay, but it is quite likely that it would not."
+
+"Ch-charitable organization?" said Jethro, from the depths of his chair.
+
+"The pioneers in such matters take enormous risks for the benefit of the
+community, sir.  We believe that we are entitled to a franchise, and in
+my opinion the General Court are behaving disgracefully in refusing us
+one.  I will not say all I think about that affair, Mr. Bass.  I am
+convinced that influences are at work--" He broke off with a catch in his
+throat.
+
+"T-tried to get a franchise, did you?"
+
+"I am not here to quibble with you, Mr. Bass.  We tried to get it by
+every legitimate means, and failed, and you know it as well as I do."
+
+"Er--Heth Sutton didn't sign his receipt--er--did he?"
+
+The storekeeper, not being a politician, was not aware that the somewhat
+obscure reference of Jethro's to the Speaker of the House concerned an
+application which Mr. Worthington was supposed to have made to that
+gentleman, who had at length acknowledged his inability to oblige, and
+had advised Mr. Worthington to go to headquarters.  And Mr. Stephen
+Merrill, who had come to Brampton out of the kindness of his heart, had
+only arranged this meeting in a conversation with Jethro that day, after
+the reform speech.
+
+Mr. Worthington sprang to his feet, and flung out a hand toward Jethro.
+
+"Prove your insinuations, air," he cried; "I defy you to prove your
+insinuations."
+
+But Jethro still sat unmoved.
+
+"H-Heth in the charitable organization, too?" he asked.
+
+"People told me I was a fool to believe in honesty, but I thought better
+of the lawmakers of my state.  I'll tell you plainly what they said to
+me, sir.  They said, 'Go to Jethro Bass.'"
+
+"Well, so you have, hain't you?  So you have."
+
+"Yes, I have.  I've come to appeal to you in behalf of the people of your
+section to allow that franchise to go through the present Legislature."
+
+"Er--come to appeal, have you--come to appeal?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Worthington, sitting down again; "I have come to-night to
+appeal to you in the name of the farmers and merchants of this region--
+your neighbors,--to use your influence to get that franchise.  I have
+come to you with the conviction that I shall not have appealed in vain."
+
+"Er--appealed to Heth in the name of the farmers and merchants?"
+
+"Mr. Sutton is Speaker of the House."
+
+"F-farmers and merchants elected him," remarked Jethro, as though stating
+a fact.
+
+Worthington coughed.
+
+"It is probable that I made a mistake in going to Sutton," he admitted.
+
+"If I w-wanted to catch a pike, w-wouldn't use a pin-hook."
+
+"I might have known," remarked Worthington, after a pause, "that Sutton
+could not have been elected Speaker without your influence."
+
+Jethro did not answer that, but still remained sunk in his chair.  To all
+appearances he might have been asleep.
+
+"W-worth somethin' to the farmers and merchants to get that road through-
+-w-worth somethin', ain't it?"
+
+Wetherell held his breath.  For a moment Mr. Worthington sat very still,
+his face drawn, and then he wet his lips and rose slowly.
+
+"We may as well end this conversation, Mr. Bass," he said, and though he
+tried to speak firmly his voice shook, "it seems to be useless.  Good
+night."
+
+He picked up his hat and walked slowly toward the door, but Jethro did
+not move or speak.  Mr. Worthington reached the door opened it, and the
+night breeze started the lamp to smoking.  Wetherell got up and turned it
+down, and the first citizen was still standing in the doorway.  His back
+was toward them, but the fingers of his left hand--working convulsively
+caught Wetherell's eye and held it; save for the ticking of the clock and
+the chirping of the crickets in the grass, there was silence.  Then Mr.
+Worthington closed the door softly, hesitated, turned, and came back and
+stood before Jethro.
+
+"Mr. Bass," he said," we've got to have that franchise."
+
+William Wetherell glanced at the countryman who, without moving in his
+chair, without raising his voice, had brought the first citizen of
+Brampton to his knees.  The thing frightened the storekeeper, revolted
+him, and yet its drama held him fascinated.  By some subtle process which
+he had actually beheld, but could not fathom, this cold Mr. Worthington,
+this bank president who had given him sage advice, this preacher of
+political purity, had been reduced to a frenzied supplicant.  He stood
+bending over Jethro.
+
+"What's your price?  Name it, for God's sake."
+
+"B-better wait till you get the bill--hadn't you? b-better wait till you
+get the bill."
+
+"Will you put the franchise through?"
+
+"Goin' down to the capital soon?" Jethro inquired.
+
+"I'm going down on Thursday."
+
+"B-better come in and see me," said Jethro.
+
+"Very well," answered Mr. Worthington; "I'll be in at two o'clock on
+Thursday."  And then, without another word to either of them, he swung on
+his heel and strode quickly out of the store.  Jethro did not move.
+
+William Wetherell's hand was trembling so that he could not write, and he
+could not trust his voice to speak.  Although Jethro had never mentioned
+Isaac Worthington's name to him, Wetherell knew that Jethro hated the
+first citizen of Brampton.
+
+At length, when the sound of the wheels had died away, Jethro broke the
+silence.
+
+"Er--didn't laugh--did he, Will?  Didn't laugh once--did he?"
+
+"Laugh!" echoed the storekeeper, who himself had never been further from
+laughter in his life.
+
+"M-might have let him off easier if he'd laughed," said Jethro, "if he'd
+laughed just once, m-might have let him off easier."
+
+And with this remark he went out of the store and left Wetherell alone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+The weekly letter to the Newcastle Guardian was not finished that night,
+but Coniston slept, peacefully, unaware of Mr. Worthington's visit; and
+never, indeed, discovered it, since the historian for various reasons of
+his own did not see fit to insert the event in his plan of the Town
+History.  Before another sun had set Jethro Bass had departed for the
+state capital, not choosing to remain to superintend the haying of the
+many farms which had fallen into his hand,--a most unusual omission for
+him.
+
+Presently rumors of a mighty issue about the Truro Railroad began to be
+discussed by the politicians at the Coniston store, and Jake Wheeler held
+himself in instant readiness to answer a summons to the capital--which
+never came.
+
+Delegations from Brampton and Harwich went to petition the Legislature
+for the franchise, and the Brampton Clarion and Harwich Sentinel declared
+that the people of Truro County recognized in Isaac Worthington a great
+and public-spirited man, who ought by all means to be the next governor--
+if the franchise went through.
+
+One evening Lem Hallowell, after depositing a box of trimmings at Ephraim
+Prescott's harness shop, drove up to the platform of the store with the
+remark that "things were gittin' pretty hot down to the capital in that
+franchise fight."
+
+"Hain't you b'en sent for yet, Jake?" he cried, throwing his reins over
+the backs of his sweating Morgans; "well, that's strange.  Guess the
+fight hain't as hot as we hear about.  Jethro hain't had to call out his
+best men."
+
+"I'm a-goin' down if there's trouble," declared Jake, who consistently
+ignored banter.
+
+"Better git up and git," said Lem; "there's three out of the five
+railroads against Truro, and Steve Merrill layin' low.  Bije Bixby's down
+there, and Heth Sutton, and Abner Parkinson, and all the big bugs.
+Better get aboard, Jake."
+
+At this moment the discussion was interrupted by the sight of Cynthia
+Wetherell coming across the green with an open letter in her hand.
+
+"It's a message from Uncle Jethro," she said.
+
+The announcement was sufficient to warrant the sensation it produced on
+all sides.
+
+"'Tain't a letter from Jethro, is it?" exclaimed Sam Price, overcome by a
+pardonable curiosity.  For it was well known that one of Jethro's fixed
+principles in life was embodied in his own motto, "Don't write--send."
+
+"It's very funny," answered Cynthia, looking down at the paper with a
+puzzled expression.  "'Dear Cynthia: Judge Bass wished me to say to you
+that he would be pleased if you and Will would come to the capital and
+spend a week with him at the Pelican House, and see the sights.  The
+judge says Rias Richardson will tend store.  Yours truly, P. Hartington.'
+That's all," said Cynthia, looking up.
+
+For a moment you could have heard a pine needle drop on the stoop.  Then
+Rias thrust his hands in his pockets and voiced the general sentiment.
+
+"Well, I'll be--goldurned!" said he.
+
+"Didn't say nothin' about Jake?" queried Lem.
+
+"No," answered Cynthia, "that's all--except two pieces of cardboard with
+something about the Truro Railroad and our names.  I don't know what they
+are."  And she took them from the envelope.
+
+"Guess I could tell you if I was pressed," said Lem, amid a shout of
+merriment from the group.
+
+"Air you goin', Will?"  said Sam Price, pausing with his foot on the step
+of his buggy, that he might have the complete news before he left.
+
+"Godfrey, Will," exclaimed Rigs, breathlessly, "you hain't a-goin' to
+throw up a chance to stay a hull week at the Pelican, be you?"  The mere
+possibility of refusal overpowered Rias.
+
+Those who are familiar with that delightful French song which treats of
+the leave-taking of one Monsieur Dumollet will appreciate, perhaps, the
+attentions which were showered upon William Wetherell and Cynthia upon
+their departure for the capital next morning.  Although Mr. Wetherell had
+at one time been actually a resident of Boston, he received quite as many
+cautions from his neighbors as Monsieur Dumollet.  Billets doux and
+pistols were, of course, not mentioned, but it certainly behooved him,
+when he should have arrived at that place of intrigues, to be on the
+lookout for cabals.
+
+They took the stage-coach from Brampton over the pass: picturesque stage-
+coach with its apple-green body and leather springs, soon to be laid away
+forever if the coveted Truro Franchise Bill becomes a law; stage-coach
+which pulls up defiantly beside its own rival at Truro station, where our
+passengers take the train down the pleasant waterways and past the little
+white villages among the fruit trees to the capital.  The thrill of
+anticipation was in Cynthia's blood, and the flush of pleasure on her
+cheeks, when they stopped at last under the sheds.  The conductor snapped
+his fingers and cried, "This way, Judge," and there was Jethro in his
+swallow-tailed coat and stove-pipe hat awaiting them.  He seized
+Wetherell's carpet-bag with one hand and Cynthia's arm with the other,
+and shouldered his way through the people, who parted when they saw who
+it was.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," cried Cynthia, breathlessly, "I didn't know you were a
+judge.  What are you judge of?"
+
+"J-judge of clothes, Cynthy.  D-don't you wish you had the red cloth to
+wear here?"
+
+"No, I don't," said Cynthia.  "I'm glad enough to be here without it."
+
+"G-glad to hev you in any fixin's, Cynthy," he said, giving her arm a
+little squeeze, and by that time they were up the hill and William
+Wetherell quite winded.  For Jethro was strong as an ox, and Cynthia's
+muscles were like an Indian's.
+
+They were among the glories of Main Street now.  The capital was then,
+and still remains, a typically beautiful New England city, with wide
+streets shaded by shapely maples and elms, with substantial homes set
+back amidst lawns and gardens.  Here on Main Street were neat brick
+business buildings and banks and shops, with the park-like grounds of the
+Capitol farther on, and everywhere, from curb to doorway, were knots of
+men talking politics; broad-faced, sunburned farmers in store clothes,
+with beards that hid their shirt fronts; keen-featured, sallow, country
+lawyers in long black coats crumpled from much sitting on the small of
+the back; country storekeepers with shrewd eyes, and local proprietors
+and manufacturers.
+
+"Uncle Jethro, I didn't know you were such a great man," she said.
+
+"H-how did ye find out, Cynthy?"
+
+"The way people treat you here.  I knew you were great, of course," she
+hastened to add.
+
+"H-how do they treat me?" he asked, looking down at her.
+
+"You know," she answered.  "They all stop talking when you come along and
+stare at you.  But why don't you speak to them?"
+
+Jethro smiled and squeezed her arm again, and then they were in the
+corridor of the famous Pelican Hotel, hazy with cigar smoke and filled
+with politicians.  Some were standing, hanging on to pillars,
+gesticulating, some were ranged in benches along the wall, and a chosen
+few were in chairs grouped around the spittoons.  Upon the appearance of
+Jethro's party, the talk was hushed, the groups gave way, and they
+accomplished a kind of triumphal march to the desk.  The clerk, descrying
+them, desisted abruptly from a conversation across the cigar counter, and
+with all the form of a ceremony dipped the pen with a flourish into the
+ink and handed it to Jethro.
+
+"Your rooms are ready, Judge," he said.
+
+As they started for the stairs, Jethro and Cynthia leading the way,
+Wetherell felt a touch on his elbow and turned to confront Mr. Bijah
+Bixby--at very close range, as usual.
+
+"C-come down at last, Will?" he said.  "Thought ye would.  Need everybody
+this time--you understand."
+
+"I came on pleasure," retorted Mr. Wetherell, somewhat angrily.
+
+Mr. Bixby appeared hugely to enjoy the joke.
+
+"So I callated," he cried, still holding Wetherell's hand in a mild, but
+persuasive grip.  "So I callated.  Guess I done you an injustice, Will."
+
+"How's that?"
+
+"You're a leetle mite smarter than I thought you was.  So long.  Got a
+leetle business now--you understand a leetle business."
+
+Was it possible, indeed, for the simple-minded to come to the capital and
+not become involved in cabals?  With some misgivings William Wetherell
+watched Mr. Bixby disappear among the throng, kicking up his heels
+behind, and then went upstairs.  On the first floor Cynthia was standing
+by an open door.
+
+"Dad," she cried, "come and see the rooms Uncle Jethro's got for us!"
+She took Wetherell's hand and led him in.  "See the lace curtains, and
+the chandelier, and the big bureau with the marble top."
+
+Jethro had parted his coat tails and seated himself enjoyably on the bed.
+
+"D-don't come often," he said, "m-might as well have the best."
+
+"Jethro," said Wetherell, coughing nervously and fumbling in the pocket
+of his coat, "you've been very kind to us, and we hardly know how to
+thank you.  I--I didn't have any use for these."
+
+He held out the pieces of cardboard which had come in Cynthia's letter.
+He dared not look at Jethro, and his eye was fixed instead upon the
+somewhat grandiose signature of Isaac D. Worthington, which they bore.
+Jethro took them and tore them up, and slowly tossed the pieces into a
+cuspidor conveniently situated near the foot of the bed.  He rose and
+thrust his hands into his pockets.
+
+"Er--when you get freshened up, come into Number 7," he said.
+
+Number 7!  But we shall come to that later.  Supper first, in a great
+pillared dining room filled with notables, if we only had the key.
+Jethro sits silent at the head of the table eating his crackers and milk,
+with Cynthia on his left and William Wetherell on his right.  Poor
+William, greatly embarrassed by his sudden projection into the limelight,
+is helpless in the clutches of a lady-waitress who is demanding somewhat
+fiercely that he make an immediate choice from a list of dishes which she
+is shooting at him with astonishing rapidity.  But who is this, sitting
+beside him, who comes to William's rescue, and demands that the lady
+repeat the bill of fare?  Surely a notable, for he has a generous
+presence, and jet-black whiskers which catch the light, which give the
+gentleman, as Mr. Bixby remarked, "quite a settin'."  Yes, we have met
+him at last.  It is none other than the Honorable Heth Sutton, Rajah of
+Clovelly, Speaker of the House, who has condescended to help Mr.
+Wetherell.
+
+His chamberlain, Mr. Bijah Bixby, sits on the other side of the Honorable
+Heth, and performs the presentation of Mr. Wetherell.  But Mr. Sutton, as
+becomes a man of high position, says little after he has rebuked the
+waitress, and presently departs with a carefully chosen toothpick;
+whereupon Mr. Bixby moves into the vacant seat--not to Mr. Wetherell's
+unqualified delight.
+
+"I've knowed him ever sense we was boys," said Mr. Bixby; "you saw how
+intimate we was.  When he wants a thing done, he says, 'Bije, you go out
+and get 'em.' Never counts the cost.  He was nice to you--wahn't he,
+Will?"  And then Mr. Bixby leaned over and whispered in Mr. Wetherell's
+ear; "He knows--you understand--he knows."
+
+"Knows what?" demanded Mr. Wetherell.
+
+Mr. Bixby gave him another admiring look.
+
+"Knows you didn't come down here with Jethro jest to see the sights."
+
+At this instant the talk in the dining room fell flat, and looking up
+William Wetherell perceived a portly, rubicund man of middle age being
+shown to his seat by the headwaiter.  The gentleman wore a great,
+glittering diamond in his shirt, and a watch chain that contained much
+fine gold.  But the real cause of the silence was plainly in the young
+woman who walked beside him, and whose effective entrance argued no
+little practice and experience.  She was of a type that catches the eye
+involuntarily and holds it,--tall, well-rounded, fresh-complexioned, with
+heavy coils of shimmering gold hair.  Her pawn, which was far from
+unbecoming, was in keeping with those gifts with which nature had endowed
+her.  She carried her head high, and bestowed swift and evidently fatal
+glances to right and left during her progress through the room.  Mr.
+Bixby's voice roused the storekeeper from this contemplation of the
+beauty.
+
+"That's Alvy Hopkins of Gosport and his daughter.  Fine gal, hain't she?
+Ever sense she come down here t'other day she's stirred up more turmoil
+than any railroad bill I ever seed.  She was most suffocated at the
+governor's ball with fellers tryin' to get dances--some of 'em old
+fellers, too.  And you understand about Alvy?"
+
+"What about him?"
+
+"Alvy says he's a-goin' to be the next governor, or fail up."  Mr.
+Bixby's voice sank to a whisper, and he spoke into Mr. Wetherell's ear.
+"Alvy says he has twenty-five thousand dollars to put in if necessary.
+I'll introduce you to him, Will," he added meaningly.  "Guess you can
+help him some--you understand?"
+
+"Mr. Bixby!" cried Mr. Wetherell, putting down his knife and fork.
+
+"There!" said Mr. Bixby, reassuringly; "'twon't be no bother.  I know him
+as well as I do you--call each other by our given names.  Guess I was the
+first man he sent for last spring.  He knows I go through all them river
+towns.  He says, 'Bije, you get 'em.' I understood."
+
+William Wetherell began to realize the futility of trying to convince Mr.
+Bixby of his innocence in political matters, and glanced at Jethro.
+
+"You wouldn't think he was listenin', would you, Will?" Mr. Bixby
+remarked.
+
+"Listening?"
+
+"Ears are sharp as a dog's.  Callate he kin hear as far as the governor's
+table, and he don't look as if he knows anything.  One way he built up
+his power--listenin' when they're talkin' sly out there in the rotunda.
+They're almighty surprised when they l'arn he knows what they're up to.
+Guess you understand how to go along by quiet and listen when they're
+talkin' sly."
+
+"I never did such a thing in my life," cried William Wetherell,
+indignantly aghast.
+
+But Mr. Bixby winked.
+
+"So long, Will," he said, "see you in Number 7."
+
+Never, since the days of Pompadour and Du Barry, until modern American
+politics were invented, has a state been ruled from such a place as
+Number 7 in the Pelican House--familiarly known as the Throne Room.  In
+this historic cabinet there were five chairs, a marble-topped table, a
+pitcher of iced water, a bureau, a box of cigars and a Bible, a
+chandelier with all the gas jets burning, and a bed, whereon sat such
+dignitaries as obtained an audience,--railroad presidents, governors and
+ex-governors and prospective governors, the Speaker, the President of the
+Senate, Bijah Bixby, Peleg Hartington, mighty chiefs from the North
+Country, and lieutenants from other parts of the state.  These sat on the
+bed by preference.  Jethro sat in a chair by the window, and never took
+any part in the discussions that raged, but listened.  Generally there
+was some one seated beside him who talked persistently in his ear; as at
+present, for instance, Mr. Chauncey Weed, Chairman of the Committee on
+Corporations of the House, who took the additional precaution of putting
+his hand to his mouth when he spoke.
+
+Mr. Stephen Merrill was in the Throne Room that evening, and
+confidentially explained to the bewildered William Wetherell the exact
+situation in the Truro Franchise fight.  Inasmuch as it has become our
+duty to describe this celebrated conflict,--in a popular and engaging
+manner, if possible,--we shall have to do so through Mr. Wetherell's
+eyes, and on his responsibility.  The biographies of some of the
+gentlemen concerned have since been published, and for some unaccountable
+reason contain no mention of the Truro franchise.
+
+"All Gaul," said Mr. Merrill--he was speaking to a literary man--"all
+Gaul is divided into five railroads.  I am one, the Grand Gulf and
+Northern, the impecunious one.  That is the reason I'm so nice to
+everybody, Mr. Wetherell.  The other day a conductor on my road had a
+shock of paralysis when a man paid his fare.  Then there's Batch,
+president of the 'Down East' road, as we call it.  Batch and I are out of
+this fight,--we don't care whether Isaac D. Worthington gets his
+franchise or not, or I wouldn't be telling you this.  The two railroads
+which don't want him to get it, because the Truro would eventually become
+a competitor with them, are the Central and the Northwestern.  Alexander
+Duncan is president of the Central."
+
+"Alexander Duncan!" exclaimed Wetherell.  "He's the richest man in the
+state, isn't he?"
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Merrill, "and he lives in a big square house right here
+in the capital.  He ain't a bad fellow, Duncan.  You'd like him.  He
+loves books.  I wish you could see his library."
+
+"I'm afraid there's not much chance of that," answered Wetherell.
+
+"Well, as I say, there's Duncan, of the Central, and the other is
+Lovejoy, of the Northwestern.  Lovejoy's a bachelor and a skinflint.
+Those two, Duncan and Lovejoy, are using every means in their power to
+prevent Worthington from getting that franchise.  Have I made myself
+clear?"
+
+"Do you think Mr. Worthington will get it?" asked Wetherell, who had in
+mind a certain nocturnal visit at his store.
+
+Mr. Merrill almost leaped out of his chair at the question.  Then he
+mopped his face, and winked very deliberately at the storekeeper.  Then
+Mr. Merrill laughed.
+
+"Well, well," he said, "for a man who comes down here to stay with Jethro
+Bass to ask me that!"  Whereupon Mr. Wetherell flushed, and began to
+perspire himself.  "Didn't you hear Isaac D. Worthington's virtuous
+appeal to the people at Brampton?" said Mr. Merrill.
+
+"Yes," replied Wetherell, getting redder.
+
+"I like you, Will," said Mr. Merrill, unexpectedly, "darned if I don't.
+I'll tell you what I know about it, and you can have a little fun while
+you're here, lookin' on, only it won't do to write about it to the
+Newcastle Guardian.  Guess Willard wouldn't publish it, anyhow.  I
+suppose you know that Jethro pulls the strings, end we little railroad
+presidents dance.  We're the puppets now, but after a while, when I'm
+crowded out, all these little railroads will get together and there'll be
+a row worth looking at, or I'm mistaken.  But to go back to Worthington,"
+continued Mr. Merrill, "he made a little mistake with his bill in the
+beginning.  Instead of going to Jethro, he went to Heth Sutton, and Heth
+got the bill as far as the Committee on Corporations, and there she's
+been ever since, with our friend Chauncey Weed, who's whispering over
+there."
+
+"Mr. Sutton couldn't even get it out of the Committee!" exclaimed
+Wetherell.
+
+"Not an inch.  Jethro saw this thing coming about a year ago, and he took
+the precaution to have Chauncey Weed and the rest of the Committee in his
+pocket--and of course Heth Sutton's always been there."
+
+William Wetherell thought of that imposing and manly personage, the
+Honorable Heth Sutton, being in Jethro's pocket, and marvelled.  Mr.
+Chauncey Weed seemed of a species better able to thrive in the atmosphere
+of pockets.
+
+"Well, as I say, there was the Truro Franchise Bill sound asleep in the
+Committee, and when Isaac D. Worthington saw that his little arrangement
+with Heth Sutton wasn't any good, and that the people of the state didn't
+have anything more to say about it than the Crow Indians, and that the
+end of the session was getting nearer and nearer, he got desperate and
+went to Jethro, I suppose.  You know as well as I do that Jethro has
+agreed to put the bill through."
+
+"Then why doesn't he get the Committee to report it and put it through?"
+asked Wetherell.
+
+"Bless your simple literary nature," exclaimed Mr Merrill, "Jethro's got
+more power than any man in the state, but that isn't saying that he
+doesn't have to fight occasionally.  He has to fight now.  He has seven
+of the twelve senators hitched, and the governor.  But Duncan and Lovejoy
+have bought up all the loose blocks of representatives, and it is
+supposed that the franchise forces only control a quorum.  The end of the
+session is a week off, and never in all my experience have I seen a more
+praiseworthy attendance on the part of members."
+
+"Do you mean that they are being paid to remain in their seats?" cried
+the amazed Mr. Wetherell.
+
+"Well," answered Mr. Merrill, with a twinkle in his eye, "that is a
+little bald and--and unparliamentary, perhaps, but fairly accurate.  Our
+friend Jethro is confronted with a problem to tax even his faculties, and
+to look at him, a man wouldn't suspect he had a care in the world."
+
+Jethro was apparently quite as free from anxiety the next morning when he
+offered, after breakfast, to show Wetherell and Cynthia the sights of the
+town, though Wetherell could not but think that the Throne Room and the
+Truro Franchise Bill were left at a very crucial moment to take care of
+themselves.  Jethro talked to Cynthia--or rather, Cynthia talked to
+Jethro upon innumerable subject's; they looked upon the statue of a great
+statesman in the park, and Cynthia read aloud the quotation graven on the
+rock of the pedestal, "The People's Government, made for the People, made
+by the People, and answerable to the People."  After that they went into
+the state library, where Wetherell was introduced to the librarian, Mr.
+Storrow.  They did not go into the State House because, as everybody
+knows, Jethro Bass never went there.  Mr. Bijah Bixby and other
+lieutenants might be seen in the lobbies, and the governor might sign
+bills in his own apartment there, but the real seat of government was
+that Throne Room into which we have been permitted to enter.
+
+They walked out beyond the outskirts of the town, where there was a grove
+or picnic ground which was also used as a park by some of the
+inhabitants.  Jethro liked the spot, and was in the habit sometimes of
+taking refuge there when the atmosphere of the Pelican House became too
+thick.  The three of them had sat down on one of the board benches to
+rest, when presently two people were seen at a little distance walking
+among the trees, and the sight of them, for some reason, seemed to give
+Jethro infinite pleasure.
+
+"Why," exclaimed Cynthia," one of them is that horrid girl everybody was
+looking at in the dining room last night."
+
+"D-don't like her, Cynthy?" said Jethro.
+
+"No," said Cynthia, "I don't."
+
+"Pretty--hain't she--pretty?"
+
+"She's brazen," declared Cynthia.
+
+It was, indeed, Miss Cassandra Hopkins, daughter of that Honorable Alva
+who--according to Mr. Bixby was all ready with a certain sum of money to
+be the next governor.  Miss Cassandra was arrayed fluffily in cool, pink
+lawn, and she carried a fringed parasol, and she was gazing upward with
+telling effect into the face of the gentleman by her side.  This would
+have all been very romantic if the gentleman had been young and handsome,
+but he was certainly not a man to sweep a young girl off her feet.  He
+was tall, angular, though broad-shouldered, with a long, scrawny neck
+that rose out of a very low collar, and a large head, scantily covered
+with hair--a head that gave a physical as well as a mental effect of
+hardness.  His smooth-shaven face seemed to bear witness that its owner
+was one who had pushed frugality to the borders of a vice.  It was not a
+pleasant face, but now it wore an almost benign expression under the
+influence of Miss Cassandra's eyes.  So intent, apparently, were both of
+them upon each other that they did not notice the group on the bench at
+the other side of the grove.  William Wetherell ventured to ask Jethro
+who the man was.
+
+"N-name's Lovejoy," said Jethro.
+
+"Lovejoy!" ejaculated the storekeeper, thinking of what Mr. Merrill had
+told him of the opponents of the Truro Franchise Bill. "President of the
+'Northwestern' Railroad?"
+
+Jethro gave his friend a shrewd look.
+
+"G-gettin' posted--hain't you, Will?" he said.
+
+"Is she going to marry that old man?" asked Cynthia.
+
+Jethro smiled a little.  "G-guess not," said he, "g-guess not, if the old
+man can help it.  Nobody's married him yet, and hain't likely to."
+
+Jethro was unusually silent on the way back to the hotel, but he did not
+seem to be worried or displeased.  He only broke his silence once, in
+fact, when Cynthia called his attention to a large poster of some
+bloodhounds on a fence, announcing the fact in red letters that "Uncle
+Tom's Cabin" would be given by a certain travelling company at the Opera
+House the next evening.
+
+"L-like to go, Cynthy?"
+
+"Oh, Uncle Jethro, do you think we can go?"
+
+"Never b'en to a show--hev you--never b'en to a show?"
+
+"Never in my life," said Cynthia.
+
+"We'll all go," said Jethro, and he repeated it once or twice as they
+came to Main Street, seemingly greatly tickled at the prospect.  And
+there was the Truro Franchise Bill hanging over him, with only a week
+left of the session, and Lovejoy's and Duncan's men sitting so tight in
+their seats!  William Wetherell could not understand it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Half an hour later, when Mr. Wetherell knocked timidly at Number 7,--
+drawn thither by an irresistible curiosity,--the door was opened by a
+portly person who wore a shining silk hat and ample gold watch chain.
+The gentleman had, in fact, just arrived; but he seemed perfectly at home
+as he laid down his hat on the marble-topped bureau, mopped his face,
+took a glass of iced water at a gulp, chose a cigar, and sank down
+gradually on the bed.  Mr. Wetherell recognized him instantly as the
+father of the celebrated Cassandra.
+
+"Well, Jethro," said the gentleman, "I've got to come into the Throne
+Room once a day anyhow, just to make sure you don't forget me--eh?"
+
+"A-Alvy," said Jethro, "I want you to shake hands with a particular
+friend of mine, Mr. Will Wetherell of Coniston.  Er--Will, the Honorable
+Alvy Hopkins of Gosport."
+
+Mr. Hopkins rose from the bed as gradually as he had sunk down upon it,
+and seized Mr. Wetherell's hand impressively.  His own was very moist.
+
+"Heard you was in town, Mr. Wetherell," he said heartily.  "If Jethro
+calls you a particular friend, it means something, I guess.  It means
+something to me, anyhow."
+
+"Will hain't a politician," said Jethro.  "Er--Alvy?"
+
+"Hello!" said Mr. Hopkins.
+
+"Er--Will don't talk."
+
+"If Jethro had been real tactful," said the Honorable Alvy, sinking down
+again, "he'd have introduced me as the next governor of the state.
+Everybody knows I want to be governor, everybody knows I've got twenty
+thousand dollars in the bank to pay for that privilege.  Everybody knows
+I'm going to be governor if Jethro says so."
+
+William Wetherell was a little taken aback at this ingenuous statement of
+the gentleman from Gosport.  He looked out of the window through the
+foliage of the park, and his eye was caught by the monument there in
+front of the State House, and he thought of the inscription on the base
+of it, "The People's Government."  The Honorable Alva had not mentioned
+the people--undoubtedly.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Wetherell, twenty thousand dollars."  He sighed.  "Time was
+when a man could be governor for ten.  Those were the good old days--eh,
+Jethro?"
+
+"A-Alvy, 'Uncle Tom's Cabin's' comin' to town tomorrow--to-morrow."
+
+"You don't tell me," said the Honorable Alva, acquiescing cheerfully in
+the change of subject.  "We'll go.  Pleased to have you, too, Mr.
+Wetherell."
+
+"Alvy," said Jethro, again, "'Uncle Tom's Cabin' comes to town to-
+morrow."
+
+Mr. Hopkins stopped fanning himself, and glanced at Jethro questioningly.
+
+"A-Alvy, that give you an idea?" said Jethro, mildly.
+
+Mr. Wetherell looked blank: it gave him no idea whatsoever, except of
+little Eva and the bloodhounds.  For a few moments the  Honorable Alva
+appeared to be groping, too, and then his face began to crease into a
+smile of comprehension.
+
+"By Godfrey, Jethro, but you are smart." he exclaimed, with involuntary
+tribute; "you mean buy up the theatre?"
+
+"C-callate you'll find it's bought up."
+
+"You mean pay for it?" said Mr. Hopkins.
+
+"You've guessed it, Alvy, you've guessed it."
+
+Mr. Hopkins gazed at him in admiration, leaned out of the perpendicular,
+and promptly drew from his trousers' pocket a roll of stupendous
+proportions.  Wetting his thumb, he began to push aside the top bills.
+
+"How much is it?" he demanded.
+
+But Jethro put up his hand.
+
+"No hurry, Alvy--n-no hurry.  H-Honorable Alvy Hopkins of Gosport--p-
+patron of the theatre.  Hain't the first time you've b'en a patron,
+Alvy."
+
+"Jethro," said Mr. Hopkins, solemnly, putting up his money, "I'm much
+obliged to you.  I'm free to say I'd never have thought of it.  If you
+ain't the all-firedest smartest man in America to-day,--I don't except
+any, even General Grant,--then I ain't the next governor of this state."
+
+Whereupon he lapsed into an even more expressive silence, his face still
+glowing.
+
+"Er--Alvy," said Jethro presently, "what's the name of your gal?"
+
+"Well," said Mr. Hopkins, "I guess you've got me.  We did christen her
+Lily, but she didn't turn out exactly Lily.  She ain't the type," said
+Mr. Hopkins, slowly, not without a note of regret, and lapsed into
+silence.
+
+"W-what did you say her name was, Alvy?"
+
+"I guess her name's Cassandra," said the Honorable Alva.
+
+"C-Cassandry?"
+
+"Well, you see," he explained a trifle apologetically, "she's kind of
+taken some matters in her own hands, my gal.  Didn't like Lily, and it
+didn't seem to fit her anyway, so she called herself Cassandra.  Read it
+in a book.  It means, 'inspirer of love,' or some such poetry, but I
+don't deny that it goes with her better than Lily would."
+
+"Sh-she's a good deal of a gal, Alvy--fine-appearin' gal, Alvy."
+
+"Upon my word, Jethro, I didn't know you ever looked at a woman.  But I
+suppose you couldn't help lookin' at my gal--she does seem to draw men's
+eyes as if she was magnetized some way."  Mr. Hopkins did not speak as
+though this quality of his daughter gave him unmixed delight.  "But she's
+a good-hearted gal, Cassy is, high-spirited, and I won't deny she's
+handsome and smart."
+
+She'll kind of grace my position when I'm governor.  But to tell you the
+truth, Jethro, one old friend to another, durned if I don't wish she was
+married.  It's a terrible thing for a father to say, I know, but I'd feel
+easier about her if she was married to some good man who could hold her.
+There's young Joe Turner in Gosport, he'd give his soul to have her, and
+he'd do.  Cassy says she's after bigger game than Joe.  She's young--
+that's her only excuse.  Funny thing happened night before last,"
+continued Mr. Hopkins, laughing.  "Lovejoy saw her, and he's b'en out of
+his head ever since.  Al must be pretty near my age, ain't he?  Well,
+there's no fool like an old fool."
+
+"A-Alvy introduce me to Cassandry sometime will you?"
+
+"Why, certainly," answered Mr. Hopkins, heartily, "I'll bring her in
+here.  And now how about gettin' an adjournment to-morrow night for
+'Uncle Tom's Cabin'?  These night sessions kind of interfere."
+
+Half an hour later, when the representatives were pouring into the
+rotunda for dinner, a crowd was pressing thickly around the desk to read
+a placard pinned on the wall above it.  The placard announced the coming
+of Mr. Glover's Company for the following night, and that the Honorable
+Alva Hopkins of Gosport, ex-Speaker of the House, had bought three
+hundred and twelve seats for the benefit of the members.  And the
+Honorable Alva himself, very red in the face and almost smothered, could
+be dimly discerned at the foot of the stairs trying to fight his way out
+of a group of overenthusiastic friends and admirers.  Alva--so it was
+said on all sides--was doing the right thing.
+
+So it was that one sensation followed another at the capital, and the
+politicians for the moment stopped buzzing over the Truro Franchise Bill
+to discuss Mr. Hopkins and his master-stroke.  The afternoon Chronicle
+waxed enthusiastic on the subject of Mr. Hopkins's generosity, and
+predicted that, when Senator Hartington made the motion in the upper
+house and Mr. Jameson in the lower, the General Court would unanimously
+agree that there would be no evening session on the following day.  The
+Honorable Alva was the hero of the hour.
+
+That afternoon Cynthia and her father walked through the green park to
+make their first visit to the State House.  They stood hand in hand on
+the cool, marble-paved floor of the corridor, gazing silently at the
+stained and battered battle-flags behind the glass, and Wetherell seemed
+to be listening again to the appeal of a great President to a great
+Country in the time of her dire need--the soul calling on the body to
+fight for itself.  Wetherell seemed to feel again the thrill he felt when
+he saw the blue-clad men of this state crowded in the train at Boston:
+and to hear again the cheers, and the sobs, and the prayers as he looked
+upon the blood that stained stars and stripes alike with a holy stain.
+With that blood the country had been consecrated, and the state--yes, and
+the building where they stood.  So they went on up the stairs,
+reverently, nor heeded the noise of those in groups about them, and
+through a door into the great hall of the representatives of the state.
+
+Life is a mixture of emotions, a jumble of joy and sorrow and reverence
+and mirth and flippancy, of right feeling and heresy.  In the morning
+William Wetherell had laughed at Mr. Hopkins and the twenty thousand
+dollars he had put in the bank to defraud the people; but now he could
+have wept over it, and as he looked down upon the three hundred members
+of that House, he wondered how many of them represented their neighbors
+who supposedly had sent them here--and how many Mr. Lovejoy's railroad,
+Mr. Worthington's railroad, or another man's railroad.
+
+But gradually he forgot the battle-flags, and his mood changed.  Perhaps
+the sight of Mr. Speaker Sutton towering above the House, the very
+essence and bulk of authority, brought this about.  He aroused in
+Wetherell unwilling admiration and envy when he arose to put a question
+in his deep voice, or rapped sternly with his gavel to silence the tumult
+of voices that arose from time to time; or while some member was
+speaking, or the clerk was reading a bill at breathless speed, he turned
+with wonderful nonchalance to listen to the conversation of the gentlemen
+on the bench beside him, smiled, nodded, pulled his whiskers, at once
+conscious and unconscious of his high position.  And, most remarkable of
+all to the storekeeper, not a man of the three hundred, however obscure,
+could rise that the Speaker did not instantly call him by name.
+
+William Wetherell was occupied by such reflections as these when suddenly
+there fell a hush through the House.  The clerk had stopped reading, the
+Speaker had stopped conversing, and, seizing his gavel, looked
+expectantly over the heads of the members and nodded.  A sleek,
+comfortably dressed mail arose smilingly in the middle of the House, and
+subdued laughter rippled from seat to seat as he addressed the chair.
+
+"Mr. Jameson of Wantage."
+
+Mr. Jameson cleared his throat impressively and looked smilingly about
+him.
+
+"Mr. Speaker and gentlemen of the House," he said, "if I desired to
+arouse the enthusiasm--the just enthusiasm--of any gathering in this
+House, or in this city, or in this state, I should mention the name of
+the Honorable Alva Hopkins of Gosport.  I think I am right."
+
+Mr. Jameson was interrupted, as he no doubt expected, by applause from
+floor and gallery.  He stood rubbing his hands together, and it seemed to
+William Wetherell that the Speaker did not rap as sharply with his gavel
+as he had upon other occasions.
+
+"Gentlemen of the House," continued Mr. Jameson, presently, "the
+Honorable Alva Hopkins, whom we all know and love, has with unparalleled
+generosity--unparalleled, I say--bought up three hundred and twelve seats
+in Fosters Opera House for to-morrow night" (renewed applause), "in order
+that every member of this august body may have the opportunity to witness
+that most classic of histrionic productions, 'Uncle Tom's Cabin'."  (Loud
+applause, causing the Speaker to rap sharply.)  "That we may show a
+proper appreciation of this compliment--I move you, Mr. Speaker, that the
+House adjourn not later than six o'clock to-morrow, Wednesday evening,
+not to meet again until Thursday morning."
+
+Mr. Jameson of Wantage handed the resolution to a page and sat down
+amidst renewed applause.  Mr. Wetherell noticed that many members turned
+in their seats as they clapped, and glancing along the gallery he caught
+a flash of red and perceived the radiant Miss Cassandra herself leaning
+over the rail, her hands clasped in ecstasy.  Mr. Lovejoy was not with
+her--he evidently preferred to pay his attentions in private.
+
+"There she is again," whispered Cynthia, who had taken an instinctive and
+extraordinary dislike to Miss Cassandra.  Then Mr. Sutton rose
+majestically to put the question.
+
+"Gentlemen, are you ready for the question?" he cried.  "All those in
+favor of the resolution of the gentleman from Wantage, Mr. Jameson--" the
+Speaker stopped abruptly.  The legislators in the front seats swung
+around, and people in the gallery craned forward to see a member standing
+at his seat in the extreme rear of the hall.  He was a little man in an
+ill-fitting coat, his wizened face clean-shaven save for the broom-shaped
+beard under his chin, which he now held in his hand.  His thin, nasal
+voice was somehow absurdly penetrating as he addressed the chair.  Mr.
+Sutton was apparently, for once, taken by surprise, and stared a moment,
+as though racking his brain for the name.
+
+"The gentleman from Suffolk, Mr. Heath," he said, and smiling a little,
+sat down.
+
+The gentleman from Suffolk, still holding on to his beard, pitched in
+without preamble.
+
+"We farmers on the back seats don't often get a chance to be heard, Mr.
+Speaker," said he, amidst a general tittering from the front seats.  "We
+come down here without any l'arnin' of parli'ment'ry law, and before we
+know what's happened the session's over, and we hain't said nothin'."
+(More laughter.) "There's b'en a good many times when I wanted to say
+somethin', and this time I made up my mind I was a-goin' to--law or no
+law."
+
+(Applause, and a general show of interest in the gentleman from Suffolk.)
+"Naow, Mr. Speaker, I hain't ag'in' 'Uncle Tom's Cabin.'  It's a good
+play, and it's done an almighty lot of good.  And I hain't sayin' nothin'
+ag'in' Alvy Hopkins nor his munificence.  But I do know there's a sight
+of little bills on that desk that won't be passed if we don't set to-
+morrow night--little bills that are big bills for us farmers.  That thar
+woodchuck bill, for one."  (Laughter.) "My constituents want I should
+have that bill passed.  We don't need a quorum for them bills, but we
+need time.  Naow, Mr. Speaker, I say let all them that wants to go and
+see 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' go and see it, but let a few of us fellers that
+has woodchuck bills and other things that we've got to get through come
+down here and pass 'em.  You kin put 'em on the docket, and I guess if
+anything comes along that hain't jest right for everybody, somebody can
+challenge a quorum and bust up the session.  That's all."
+
+The gentleman from Suffolk sat down amidst thunderous applause, and
+before it died away Mr. Jameson was on his feet, smiling and rubbing his
+hands together, and was recognized.
+
+"Mr. Speaker," he said, as soon as he could be heard, "if the gentleman
+from Suffolk desires to pass woodchuck bills" (renewed laughter), "he can
+do so as far as I'm concerned.  I guess I know where most of the members
+of this House will be to-morrow night-" (Cries of 'You're right', and
+sharp rapping of the gavel.) "Mr. Speaker, I withdraw my resolution."
+
+"The gentleman from Wantage," said the Speaker, smiling broadly now,
+"withdraws his resolution."
+
+As William Wetherell was returning to the Pelican House, pondering over
+this incident, he almost ran into a distinguished-looking man walking
+briskly across Main Street.
+
+"It was Mr. Worthington!" said Cynthia, looking after him.
+
+But Mr. Worthington had a worried look on his face, and was probably too
+much engrossed in his own thoughts to notice his acquaintances.  He had,
+in fact, just come from the Throne Room, where he had been to remind
+Jethro that the session was almost over, and to ask him what he meant to
+do about the Truro Bill.  Jethro had given him no satisfaction.
+
+"Duncan and Lovejoy have their people paid to sit there night and day,"
+Mr. Worthington had said.  "We've got a bare majority on a full House;
+but you don't seem to dare to risk it.  What are you going to do about
+it, Mr. Bass?"
+
+"W-want the bill to pass--don't you?"
+
+"Certainly," Mr. Worthington had cried, on the edge of losing his temper.
+
+"L-left it to me--didn't you?
+
+"Yes, but I'm entitled to know what's being done.  I'm paying for it."
+
+"H-hain't paid for it yet--hev you?"
+
+"No, I most assuredly haven't."
+
+"B-better wait till you do."
+
+There was very little satisfaction in this, and Mr. Worthington had at
+length been compelled to depart, fuming, to the house of his friend the
+enemy, Mr. Duncan, there to attempt for the twentieth time to persuade
+Mr. Duncan to call off his dogs who were sitting with such praiseworthy
+pertinacity in their seats.  As the two friends walked on the lawn, Mr.
+Worthington tried to explain, likewise for the twentieth time, that the
+extension of the Truro Railroad could in no way lessen the Canadian
+traffic of the Central, Mr. Duncan's road.  But Mr. Duncan could not see
+it that way, and stuck to his present ally, Mr. Lovejoy, and refused
+point-blank to call off his dogs.  Business was business.
+
+It is an apparently inexplicable fact, however, that Mr. Worthington and
+his son Bob were guests at the Duncan mansion at the capital.  Two
+countries may not be allies, but their sovereigns may be friends.  In the
+present instance, Mr. Duncan and Mr. Worthington's railroads were
+opposed, diplomatically, but another year might see the Truro Railroad
+and the Central acting as one.  And Mr. Worthington had no intention
+whatever of sacrificing Mr. Duncan's friendship.  The first citizen of
+Brampton possessed one quality so essential to greatness--that of looking
+into the future, and he believed that the time would come when an event
+of some importance might create a perpetual alliance between himself and
+Mr. Duncan.  In short, Mr. Duncan had a daughter, Janet, and Mr.
+Worthington, as we know, had a son.  And Mr. Duncan, in addition to his
+own fortune, had married one of the richest heiresses in New England.
+Prudens futuri, that was Mr. Worthington's motto.
+
+The next morning Cynthia, who was walking about the town alone, found
+herself gazing over a picket fence at a great square house with a very
+wide cornice that stood by itself in the centre of a shade-flecked lawn.
+There were masses of shrubbery here and there, and a greenhouse, and a
+latticed summer-house: and Cynthia was wondering what it would be like to
+live in a great place like that, when a barouche with two shining horses
+in silver harness drove past her and stopped before the gate.  Four or
+five girls and boys came laughing out on the porch, and one of them, who
+held a fishing-rod in his hand, Cynthia recognized.  Startled and
+ashamed, she began to walk on as fast as she could in the opposite
+direction, when she heard the sound of footsteps on the lawn behind her,
+and her own name called in a familiar voice.  At that she hurried the
+faster; but she could not run, and the picket fence was half a block
+long, and Bob Worthington had an advantage over her.  Of course it was
+Bob, and he did not scruple to run, and in a few seconds he was leaning
+over the fence in front of her.  Now Cynthia was as red as a peony by
+this time, and she almost hated him.
+
+"Well, of all people, Cynthia Wetherell!" he cried; "didn't you hear me
+calling after you?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia.
+
+"Why didn't you stop?"
+
+"I didn't want to," said Cynthia, glancing at the distant group on the
+porch, who were watching them.  Suddenly she turned to him defiantly.  "I
+didn't know you were in that house, or in the capital," she said.
+
+"And I didn't know you were," said Bob, upon whose masculine intelligence
+the meaning of her words was entirely lost.  "If I had known it, you can
+bet I would have looked you up.  Where are you staying?"
+
+"At the Pelican House."
+
+"What!" said Bob, "with all the politicians?  How did you happen to go
+there?"
+
+"Mr. Bass asked my father and me to come down for a few days," answered
+Cynthia, her color heightening again. Life is full of contrasts, and
+Cynthia was becoming aware
+of some of them.
+
+"Uncle Jethro?" said Bob.
+
+"Yes, Uncle Jethro," said Cynthia, smiling in spite of herself.  He
+always made her smile.
+
+"Uncle Jethro owns the Pelican House," said Bob.
+
+"Does he?  I knew he was a great man, but I didn't know how great he was
+until I came down here."
+
+Cynthia said this so innocently that Bob repented his flippancy on the
+spot.  He had heard occasional remarks of his elders about Jethro.
+
+"I didn't mean quite that," he said, growing red in his turn.  "Uncle
+Jethro--Mr. Bass--is a great man of course.  That's what I meant."
+
+"And he's a very good man," said Cynthia, who understood now that he had
+spoken a little lightly of Jethro, and resented it.
+
+"I'm sure of it," said Bob, eagerly.  Then Cynthia began to walk on,
+slowly, and he followed her on the other side of the fence.  "Hold on,"
+he cried, "I haven't said half the things I want to say--yet."
+
+"What do you want to say?" asked Cynthia, still walking.  "I have to go."
+
+"Oh, no, you don't!  Wait just a minute--won't you?"
+
+Cynthia halted, with apparent unwillingness, and put out her toe between
+the pickets.  Then she saw that there was a little patch on that toe, and
+drew it in again.
+
+"What do you want to say?" she repeated.  "I don't believe you have
+anything to say at all."  And suddenly she flashed a look at him that
+made his heart thump.
+
+"I do--I swear I do!" he protested.  "I'm coming down to the Pelican to-
+morrow morning to get you to go for a walk."
+
+Cynthia could not but think that the remoteness of the time he set was
+scarce in keeping with his ardent tone.
+
+"I have something else to do to-morrow morning," she answered.
+
+"Then I'll come to-morrow afternoon," said Bob, instantly.
+
+"Who lives here?" she asked irrelevantly.
+
+"Mr. Duncan.  I'm visiting the Duncans."
+
+At this moment a carryall joined the carriage at the gate.  Cynthia
+glanced at the porch again.  The group there had gown larger, and they
+were still staring.  She began to feel uncomfortable again, and moved on
+slowly.
+
+"Mayn't I come?" asked Bob, going after her; and scraping the butt of the
+rod along the palings.
+
+"Aren't there enough girls here to satisfy you?" asked Cynthia.
+
+"They're enough--yes," he said, "but none of 'em could hold a candle to
+you."
+
+Cynthia laughed outright.
+
+"I believe you tell them all something like that," she said.
+
+"I don't do any such thing," he retorted, and then he laughed himself,
+and Cynthia laughed again.
+
+"I like you because you don't swallow everything whole," said Bob, "and--
+well, for a good many other reams."  And he looked into her face with
+such frank admiration that Cynthia blushed and turned away.
+
+"I don't believe a word you say," she answered, and started to walk off,
+this time in earnest.
+
+"Hold on," cried Bob.  They were almost at the end of the fence by this,
+and the pickets were sharp and rather high, or he would have climbed
+them.
+
+Cynthia paused hesitatingly.
+
+"I'll come at two o'clock to-morrow," said he; "We're going on a picnic
+to-day, to Dalton's Bend, on the river.  I wish I could get out of it."
+
+Just then there came a voice from the gateway.
+
+"Bob!  Bob Worthington!"
+
+They both turned involuntarily.  A slender girl with light brown hair was
+standing there, waving at him.
+
+"Who's that?" asked Cynthia.
+
+"That?" said Bob, in some confusion, "oh, that's Janet Duncan."
+
+"Good-by," said Cynthia.
+
+"I'm coming to-morrow," he called after her, but she did not turn.  In a
+little while she heard the carryall behind her clattering down the
+street, its passengers laughing and joking merrily.  Her face burned, for
+she thought that they were laughing at her; she wished with all her heart
+that she had not stopped to talk with him at the palings.  The girls,
+indeed, were giggling as the carryall passed, and she heard somebody call
+out his name, but nevertheless he leaned out of the seat and waved his
+hat at her, amid a shout of laughter.  Poor Cynthia!  She did not look at
+him.  Tears of vexation were in her eyes, and the light of her joy at
+this visit to the capital flickered, and she wished she were back in
+Coniston.  She thought it would be very nice to be rich, and to live in a
+great house in a city, and to go on picnics.
+
+The light flickered, but it did not wholly go out.  If it has not been
+shown that Cynthia was endowed with a fair amount of sense, many of these
+pages have been written in vain.  She sat down for a while in the park
+and thought of the many things she had to be thankful for--not the least
+of which was Jethro's kindness.  And she remembered that she was to see
+"Uncle Tom's Cabin" that evening.
+
+Such are the joys and sorrows of fifteen!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+Mr. Amos Cuthbert named it so--our old friend Amos who lives high up in
+the ether of Town's End ridge, and who now represents Coniston in the
+Legislature.  He is the same silent, sallow person as when Jethro first
+took a mortgage on his farm, only his skin is beginning to resemble dried
+parchment, and he is a trifle more cantankerous.  On the morning of that
+memorable day when, "Uncle Tom's Cabin" came to the capital, Amos had
+entered the Throne Room and given vent to his feelings in regard to the
+gentleman in the back seat who had demanded an evening sitting on behalf
+of the farmers.
+
+"Don't that beat all?" cried Amos.  "Let them have their darned woodchuck
+session; there won't nobody go to it.  For cussed, crisscross
+contrariness, give me a moss-back Democrat from a one-boss, one-man town
+like Suffolk.  I'm a-goin' to see the show."
+
+"G-goin' to the show, be you, Amos?" said Jethro.
+
+"Yes, I be," answered Amos, bitterly.  "I hain't agoin' nigh the house
+to-night."  And with this declaration he departed.
+
+"I wonder if he really is going?" queried Mr. Merrill looking at the
+ceiling.  And then he laughed.
+
+"Why shouldn't he go?" asked William Wetherell.
+
+Mr. Merrill's answer to this question was a wink, whereupon he, too,
+departed.  And while Wetherell was pondering over the possible meaning of
+these words the Honorable Alva Hopkins entered, wreathed in smiles, and
+closed the door behind him.
+
+"It's all fixed," he said, taking a seat near Jethro in the window.
+
+"S-seen your gal--Alvy--seen your gal?"
+
+Mr. Hopkins gave a glance at Wetherell.
+
+"Will don't talk," said Jethro, and resumed his inspection through the
+lace curtains of what was going on in the street.
+
+"Cassandry's, got him to go," said Mr. Hopkins.  "It's all fixed, as sure
+as Sunday.  If it misses fire, then I'll never mention the governorship
+again.  But if it don't miss fire," and the Honorable Alva leaned over
+and put his hand on Jethro's knee, "if it don't miss fire, I get the
+nomination.  Is that right?"
+
+"Y-you've guessed it, Alvy."
+
+"That's all I want to know," declared the Honorable Alva; "when you say
+that much, you never go back on it.  And, you can go ahead and give the
+orders, Jethro.  I have to see that the boys get the tickets.
+Cassandry's got a head on her shoulders, and she kind of wants to be
+governor, too."  He got as far as the door, when he turned and bestowed
+upon Jethro a glance of undoubted tribute.  "You've done a good many
+smart things," said he, "but I guess you never beat this, and never
+will."
+
+"H-hain't done it yet, Alvy," answered Jethro, still looking out through
+the window curtains at the ever ganging groups of gentlemen in the
+street.  These groups had a never ceasing interest for Jethro Bass.
+
+Mr. Wetherell didn't talk, but had he been the most incurable of gossips
+he felt that he could have done no damage to this mysterious affair,
+whatever it was.  In a certain event, Mr. Hopkins was promised the
+governorship: so much was plain.  And it was also evident that Miss
+Cassandra Hopkins was in some way to be instrumental.  William Wetherell
+did not like to ask Jethro, but he thought a little of sounding Mr.
+Merrill, and then he came to the conclusion that it would be wiser for
+him not to know.
+
+"Er--Will," said Jethro, presently, "you know Heth Sutton--Speaker Heth
+Sutton?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Er--wouldn't mind askin' him to step in and see me before the session--
+if he was comin' by--would you?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"Er--if he was comin' by," said Jethro.
+
+Mr. Wetherell found Mr. Speaker Sutton glued to a pillar in the rotunda
+below.  He had some difficulty in breaking through the throng that
+pressed around him, and still more in attracting his attention, as Mr.
+Sutton took no manner of notice of the customary form of placing one's
+hand under his elbow and pressing gently up.  Summoning up his courage,
+Mr. Wetherell tried the second method of seizing him by the buttonhole.
+He paused in his harangue, one hand uplifted, and turned and glanced at
+the storekeeper abstractedly.
+
+"Mr. Bass asked me to tell you to drop into Number 7," said Wetherell,
+and added, remembering express instructions, "if you were going by."
+
+Wetherell had not anticipated the magical effect this usual message would
+have on Mr. Sutton, nor had he thought that so large and dignified a body
+would move so rapidly.  Before the astonished gentlemen who had penned
+him could draw a breath, Mr. Sutton had reached the stairway and, was
+mounting it with an agility that did him credit.  Five minutes later
+Wetherell saw the Speaker descending again, the usually impressive
+quality of his face slightly modified by the twitching of a smile.
+
+Thus the day passed, and the gentlemen of the Lovejoy and Duncan factions
+sat, as tight as ever in their seats, and the Truro Franchise bill still
+slumbered undisturbed in Mr. Chauncey Weed's committee.
+
+At supper there was a decided festal air about the dining room of the
+Pelican House, the little band of agricultural gentlemen who wished to
+have a session not being patrons of that exclusive hotel.  Many of the
+Solons had sent home for their wives; that they might do the utmost
+justice to the Honorable Alva's hospitality.  Even Jethro, as he ate his
+crackers and milk, had a new coat with bright brass buttons, and Cynthia,
+who wore a fresh gingham which Miss Sukey Kittredge of Coniston had
+helped to design, so far relented in deference to Jethro's taste as to
+tie a red bow at her throat.
+
+The middle table under the chandelier was the immediate firmament of Miss
+Cassandra Hopkins.  And there, beside the future governor, sat the
+president of the "Northwestern" Railroad, Mr. Lovejoy, as the chief of
+the revolving satellites.  People began to say that Mr. Lovejoy was
+hooked at last, now that he had lost his head in such an unaccountable
+fashion as to pay his court in public; and it was very generally known
+that he was to make one of the Honorable Alva's immediate party at the
+performance of "Uncle Tam's Cabin."
+
+Mr. Speaker Sutton, of course, would have to forego the pleasure of the
+theatre as a penalty of his high position.  Mr. Merrill, who sat at
+Jethro's table next to Cynthia that evening, did a great deal of joking
+with the Honorable Heth about having to preside aver a woodchuck session,
+which the Speaker, so Mr. Wetherell thought, took in astonishingly good
+part, and seemed very willing to make the great sacrifice which his duty
+required of him.
+
+After supper Mr. Wetherell took a seat in the rotunda.  As an observer of
+human nature, he had begun to find a fascination in watching the group of
+politicians there.  First of all he encountered Mr. Amos Cuthbert, his
+little coal-black eyes burning brightly, and he was looking very
+irritable indeed.
+
+"So you're going to the show, Amos?" remarked the storekeeper, with an
+attempt at cordiality.
+
+To his bewilderment, Amos turned upon him fiercely.
+
+"Who said I was going to the show?" he snapped.
+
+"You yourself told me."
+
+"You'd ought to know whether I'm a-goin' or not," said Amos, and walked
+away.
+
+While Mr. Wetherell sat meditating, upon this inexplicable retort, a
+retired, scholarly looking gentleman with a white beard, who wore
+spectacles, came out of the door leading from the barber shop and quietly
+took a seat beside him.  The storekeeper's attention was next distracted
+by the sight of one who wandered slowly but ceaselessly from group to
+group, kicking up his heels behind, and halting always in the rear of the
+speakers.  Needless to say that this was our friend Mr. Bijah Bixby, who
+was following out his celebrated tactics of "going along by when they
+were talkin' sly."  Suddenly Mr. Bixby's eye alighted on Mr. Wetherell,
+who by a stretch of imagination conceived that it expressed both
+astonishment and approval, although he was wholly at a loss to understand
+these sentiments.  Mr. Bixby winked--Mr. Wetherell was sure of that.  But
+to his surprise, Bijah did not pause in his rounds to greet him.
+
+Mr. Wetherell was beginning to be decidedly uneasy, and was about to go
+upstairs, when Mr. Merrill came down the rotunda whistling, with his
+hands in his pockets.  He stopped whistling when he spied the
+storekeeper, and approached him in his usual hearty manner.
+
+"Well, well, this is fortunate," said Mr. Merrill; "how are you, Duncan?
+I want you to know Mr. Wetherell.  Wetherell writes that weekly letter
+for the Guardian you were speaking to me about last year.  Will, this is
+Mr. Alexander Duncan, president of the 'Central.'"
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Wetherell?" said the scholarly gentleman with the
+spectacles, putting out his hand.  "I'm glad to meet you, very glad,
+indeed.  I read your letters with the greatest pleasure."
+
+Mr. Wetherell, as he took Mr. Duncan's hand, had a variety of emotions
+which may be imagined, and need not be set down in particular.
+
+"Funny thing," Mr. Merrill continued, "I was looking for you, Duncan.  It
+occurred to me that you would like to meet Mr. Wetherell.  I was afraid
+you were in Boston."
+
+"I have just got back," said Mr. Duncan.
+
+"I wanted Wetherell to see your library.  I was telling him about it."
+
+"I should be delighted to show it to him," answered Mr. Duncan.  That
+library, as is well known, was a special weakness of Mr. Duncan's.
+
+Poor William Wetherell, who was quite overwhelmed by the fact that the
+great Mr. Duncan had actually read his letters and liked them, could
+scarcely utter a sensible word.  Almost before he realized what had
+happened he was following Mr. Duncan out of the Pelican House, when the
+storekeeper was mystified once more by a nudge and another wink from Mr.
+Bixby, conveying unbounded admiration.
+
+"Why don't you write a book, Mr. Wetherell?" inquired the railroad
+president, when they were crossing the park.
+
+"I don't think I could do it," said Mr. Wetherell, modestly.  Such
+incense was overpowering, and he immediately forgot Mr. Bixby.
+
+"Yes, you can," said Mr. Duncan, "only you don't know it.  Take your
+letters for a beginning.  You can draw people well enough, when you try.
+There was your description of the lonely hill-farm on the spur--I shall
+always remember that: the gaunt farmer, toiling every minute between sun
+and sun; the thin, patient woman bending to a task that never charged or
+lightened; the children growing up and leaving one by one, some to the
+cities, some to the West, until the old people are left alone in the
+evening of life--to the sunsets and the storms.  Of course you must write
+a book."
+
+Mr. Duncan quoted other letters, and William Wetherell thrilled.  Poor
+man! he had had little enough incense in his time, and none at all from
+the great.  They came to the big square house with the cornice which
+Cynthia had seen the day before, and walked across the lawn through the
+open door.  William Wetherell had a glimpse of a great drawing-room with
+high windows, out of which was wafted the sound of a piano and of
+youthful voice and laughter, and then he was in the library.  The thought
+of one man owning all those books overpowered him.  There they were, in
+stately rows, from the floor to the high ceiling, and a portable ladder
+with which to reach them.
+
+Mr. Duncan, understanding perhaps something of the storekeeper's
+embarrassment, proceeded to take down his treasures: first editions from
+the shelves, and folios and mistrals from drawers in a great iron safe in
+one corner and laid them on the mahogany desk.  It was the railroad
+president's hobby, and could he find an appreciative guest, he was happy.
+It need scarcely be said that he found William Wetherell appreciative,
+and possessed of knowledge of Shaksperiana and other matters that
+astonished his host as well as pleased him.  For Wetherell had found his
+tongue at last.
+
+After a while Mr. Duncan drew out his watch and gave a start.
+
+"By George!" he exclaimed, "it's after eight o'clock.  I'll have to ask
+you to excuse me to-night, Mr. Wetherell.  I'd like to show you the rest
+of them--can't you come around to-morrow afternoon?"
+
+Mr. Wetherell, who had forgotten his own engagement and "Uncle Tom's
+Cabin," said he would be happy to come.  And they went out together and
+began to walk toward the State House.
+
+"It isn't often I find a man who knows anything at all about these
+things," continued Mr. Duncan, whose heart was quite won.  "Why do you
+bury yourself in Coniston?"
+
+"I went there from Briton for my health," said the storekeeper.
+
+"Jethro Bass lives there, doesn't he" said Mr. Duncan, with a laugh.  But
+I suppose you don't know anything about politics."
+
+"I know nothing at all," said Mr. Wetherell, which was quite true.  He
+had been in dreamland, but now the fact struck him again, with something
+of a shock, that this mild-mannered gentleman was one of those who had
+been paying certain legislators to remain in their seats.  Wetherell
+thought of speaking to Mr. Duncan of his friendship with Jethro Bass, but
+the occasion passed.
+
+"I wish to heaven I didn't have to know anything about politics," Mr.
+Duncan was saying; "they disgust me.  There's a little matter on now,
+about an extension of the Truro Railroad to Harwich, which wouldn't
+interest you, but you can't conceive what a nuisance it has been to watch
+that House day and night, as I've had to.  It's no joke to have that
+townsman of yours; Jethro Bass, opposed to you.  I won't say anything
+against him, for he many be a friend of yours, and I have to use him
+sometimes myself."  Mr. Duncan sighed.  "It's all very sordid and
+annoying.  Now this evening, for instance, when we might have enjoyed
+ourselves with those books, I've' got to go to the House, just because
+some backwoods farmers want to talk about woodchucks.  I suppose it's
+foolish," said Mr. Duncan; "but Bass has tricked us so often that I've
+got into the habit of being watchful.  I should have been here twenty
+minutes ago."
+
+By this time they had come to the entrance of the State House, and
+Wetherell followed Mr. Duncan in, to have a look at the woodchuck session
+himself.  Several members hurried by and up the stairs, some of them in
+their Sunday black; and the lobby above seemed, even to the storekeeper's
+unpractised eye, a trifle active for a woodchuck session.  Mr. Duncan
+muttered something, and quickened his gait a little on the steps that led
+to the gallery.  This place was almost empty.  They went down to the
+rail, and the railroad president cast his eye over the House.
+
+"Good God!" he said sharply, "there's almost a quorum here."  He ran his
+eye over the members. "There is a quorum here."
+
+Mr. Duncan stood drumming nervously with his fingers on the rail,
+scanning the heads below.  The members were scattered far and wide
+through the seats, like an army in open order, listening in silence to
+the droning voice of the clerk.  Moths burned in the gas flames, and June
+bugs hummed in at the high windows and tilted against the walls.  Then
+Mr. Duncan's finger nails whitened as his thin hands clutched the rail,
+and a sense of a pending event was upon Wetherell.  Slowly he realized
+that he was listening to the Speaker's deep voice.
+
+"'The Committee on Corporations, to whom was referred House Bill Number
+109, entitled, 'An Act to extend the Truro Railroad to Harwich, having
+considered the same, report the same with the following resolution:
+Resolved, that the bill ought to pass.  Chauncey Weed, for the
+Committee.'"
+
+The Truro Franchise!  The lights danced, and even a sudden weakness came
+upon the storekeeper.  Jethro's trick!  The Duncan and Lovejoy
+representatives in the theatre, the adherents of the bill here!
+Wetherell saw Mr. Duncan beside him, a tense figure leaning on the rail,
+calling to some one below.  A man darted up the centre, another up the
+side aisle.  Then Mr. Duncan flashed at William Wetherell from his blue
+eye such a look of anger as the storekeeper never forgot, and he, too,
+was gone.  Tingling and perspiring, Wetherell leaned out over the railing
+as the Speaker rapped calmly for order.  Hysteric laughter, mingled with
+hoarse cries, ran over the House, but the Honorable Heth Sutton did not
+even smile.
+
+A dozen members were on their feet shouting to the chair.  One was
+recognized, and that man Wetherell perceived with amazement to be Mr.
+Jameson of Wantage, adherent of Jethro's--he who had moved to adjourn for
+"Uncle Tom's Cabin"!  A score of members crowded into the aisles, but the
+Speaker's voice again rose above the tumult.
+
+"The doorkeepers will close the doors!  Mr. Jameson of Wantage moves that
+the report of the Committee be accepted, and on this motion a roll-call
+is ordered."
+
+The doorkeepers, who must have been inspired, had already slammed the
+doors in the faces of those seeking wildly to escape.  The clerk already
+had the little, short-legged desk before him and was calling the roll
+with incredible rapidity.  Bewildered and excited as Wetherell was, and
+knowing as little of parliamentary law as the gentleman who had proposed
+the woodchuck session, he began to form some sort of a notion of Jethro's
+generalship, and he saw that the innocent rural members who belonged to
+Duncan and Lovejoy's faction had tried to get away before the roll-call,
+destroy the quorum, and so adjourn the House.  These, needless to say,
+were not parliamentarians, either.  They had lacked a leader, they were
+stunned by the suddenness of the onslaught, and had not moved quickly
+enough.  Like trapped animals, they wandered blindly about for a few
+moments, and then sank down anywhere.  Each answered the roll-call
+sullenly, out of necessity, for every one of them was a marked man.  Then
+Wetherell remembered the two members who had escaped, and Mr. Duncan, and
+fell to calculating how long it would take these to reach Fosters Opera
+House, break into the middle of an act, and get out enough partisans to
+come back and kill the bill.  Mr. Wetherell began to wish he could
+witness the scene there, too, but something held him here, shaking with
+excitement, listening to each name that the clerk called.
+
+Would the people at the theatre get back in time?
+
+Despite William Wetherell's principles, whatever these may have been, he
+was so carried away that he found himself with his watch in his hand,
+counting off the minutes as the roll-call went on.  Fosters Opera House
+was some six squares distant, and by a liberal estimate Mr. Duncan and
+his advance guard ought to get back within twenty minutes of the time he
+left.  Wetherell was not aware that people were coming into the gallery
+behind him; he was not aware that one sat at his elbow until a familiar
+voice spoke, directly into his ear.
+
+"Er--Will--held Duncan pretty tight--didn't you?  He's a hard one to
+fool, too.  Never suspected a mite, did he?  Look out for your watch!"
+
+Mr. Bixby seized it or it would have fallen.  If his life had depended on
+it, William Wetherell could not have spoken a word to Mr. Bixby then.
+
+"You done well, Will, sure enough," that gentleman continued to whisper.
+"And Alvy's gal done well, too--you understand.  I guess she's the only
+one that ever snarled up Al Lovejoy so that he didn't know where he was
+at.  But it took a fine, delicate touch for her job and yours, Will.
+Godfrey, this is the quickest roll-call I ever seed!  They've got halfway
+through Truro County.  That fellow can talk faster than a side-show,
+ticket-seller at a circus."
+
+The clerk was, indeed, performing prodigies of pronunciation.  When he
+reached Wells County, the last, Mr. Bixby so far lost his habitual sang
+froid as to hammer on the rail with his fist.
+
+"If there hain't a quorum, we're done for," he said.  "How much time has
+gone away?  Twenty minutes!  Godfrey, some of 'em may break loose and git
+here is five minutes!"
+
+"Break loose?" Wetherell exclaimed involuntarily.
+
+Mr. Bixby screwed up his face.
+
+"You understand.  Accidents is liable to happen."
+
+Mr. Wetherell didn't understand in the least, but just then the clerk
+reached the last name on the roll; an instant of absolute silence, save
+for the June-bugs, followed, while the assistant clerk ran over his
+figures deftly and handed them to Mr. Sutton, who leaned forward to
+receive them.
+
+"One hundred and twelve gentlemen have voted in the affirmative and
+forty-eight in the negative, and the report of the Committee is
+accepted."
+
+"Ten more'n a quorum!" ejaculated Mr. Bixby, in a voice of thanksgiving,
+as the turmoil below began again.  It seemed as though every man in the
+opposition was on his feet and yelling at the chair: some to adjourn;
+some to indefinitely postpone; some demanding roll-calls; others swearing
+at these--for a division vote would have opened the doors.  Others tried
+to get out, and then ran down the aisles and called fiercely on the
+Speaker to open the doors, and threatened him.  But the Honorable Heth
+Sutton did not lose his head, and it may be doubted whether he ever
+appeared to better advantage than at that moment.  He had a voice like
+one of the Clovelly bulls that fed in his own pastures in the valley, and
+by sheer bellowing he got silence, or something approaching it,--the
+protests dying down to a hum; had recognised another friend of the bill,
+and was putting another question.
+
+"Mr. Gibbs of Wareham moves that the rules of the House be so far
+suspended that this bill be read a second and third time by its title,
+and be put upon its final passage at this time.  And on this motion,"
+thundered Mr. Sutton, above the tide of rising voices, "the yeas and nays
+are called for.  The doorkeepers will keep the doors shut."
+
+"Abbey of Ashburton."
+
+The nimble clerk had begun on the roll almost before the Speaker was
+through, and checked off the name.  Bijah Bixby mopped his brow with a
+blue pocket-handkerchief.
+
+"My God," he said, "what a risk Jethro's took! they can't git through
+another roll-call.  Jest look at Heth!  Ain't he carryin' it magnificent?
+Hain't as ruffled as I be.  I've knowed him ever sence he wahn't no
+higher'n that desk.  Never would have b'en in politics if it hadn't b'en
+for me.  Funny thing, Will--you and I was so excited we never thought to
+look at the clock.  Put up your watch.  Godfrey, what's this?"
+
+The noise of many feet was heard behind them.  Men and women were
+crowding breathlessly into the gallery.
+
+"Didn't take it long to git noised araound," said Mr. Bixby.  "Say, Will,
+they're bound to have got at 'em in the thea'tre.  Don't see how they
+held 'em off, c-cussed if I do."
+
+The seconds ticked into minutes, the air became stifling, for now the
+front of the gallery was packed.  Now, if ever, the fate of the Truro
+Franchise hung in the balance, and, perhaps, the rule of Jethro Bass.
+And now, as in the distance, came a faint, indefinable stir, not yet to
+be identified by Wetherell's ears as a sound, but registered somewhere in
+his brain as a warning note.  Bijah Bixby, as sensitive as he,
+straightened up to listen, and then the whispering was hushed.  The
+members below raised their heads, and some clutched the seats in front of
+them and looked up at the high windows.  Only the Speaker sat like a wax
+statue of himself, and glanced neither to the right nor to the left.
+
+"Harkness of Truro," said the clerk.
+
+"He's almost to Wells County again," whispered Bijah, excitedly. "I
+didn't callate he could do it.  Will?"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Will--you hear somethin'?"
+
+A distant shout floated with the night breeze in at the windows; a man on
+the floor got to his feet and stood straining: a commotion was going on
+at the back of the gallery, and a voice was heard crying out:--
+
+"For the love of God, let me through!"
+
+Then Wetherell turned to see the crowd at the back parting a little, to
+see a desperate man in a gorgeous white necktie fighting his way toward
+the rail.  He wore no hat, his collar was wilted, and his normally ashen
+face had turned white.  And, strangest of all, clutched tightly in his
+hand was a pink ribbon.
+
+"It's A1 Lovejoy," said Bijah, laconically.
+
+Unmindful of the awe-stricken stares he got from those about him when his
+identity became known, Mr. Lovejoy gained the rail and shoved aside a man
+who was actually making way for him.  Leaning far out, he scanned the
+house with inarticulate rage while the roll-call went monotonously on.
+Some of the members looked up at him and laughed; others began to make
+frantic signs, indicative of helplessness; still others telegraphed him
+obvious advice about reenforcements which, if anything, increased his
+fury.  Mr. Bixby was now fanning himself with the blue handkerchief.
+
+"I hear 'em!" he said, "I hear 'em, Will!"
+
+And he did.  The unmistakable hum of the voices of many men and the sound
+of feet on stone flagging shook the silent night without.  The clerk read
+off the last name on the roll.
+
+"Tompkins of Ulster."
+
+His assistant lost no time now.  A mistake would have been fatal, but he
+was an old hand.  Unmindful of the rumble on the wooden stairs below, Mr.
+Sutton took the list with an admirable deliberation.
+
+"One hundred and twelve gentlemen have voted in the affirmative, forty-
+eight in the negative, the rules of the House are suspended, and" (the
+clerk having twice mumbled the title of the bill) "the question is: Shall
+the bill pass?  As many as are of opinion that the bill pass will say
+Aye, contrary minded No."
+
+Feet were in the House corridor now, and voices rising there, and noises
+that must have been scuffling--yes, and beating of door panels.  Almost
+every member was standing, and it seemed as if they were all shouting,--
+"personal privilege," "fraud," "trickery," "open the doors."  Bijah was
+slowly squeezing the blood out of William Wetherell's arm.
+
+"The doorkeepers has the keys in their pockets!" Mr. Bixby had to shout,
+for once.
+
+Even then the Speaker did not flinch.  By a seeming miracle he got a
+semblance of order, recognized his man, and his great voice rang through
+the hall and drowned all other sounds.
+
+"And on this question a roll-call is ordered.  The doorkeepers will close
+the doors!"
+
+Then, as in reaction, the gallery trembled with a roar of laughter.  But
+Mr. Sutton did not smile.  The clerk scratched off the names with
+lightning rapidity, scarce waiting for the answers.  Every man's color
+was known, and it was against the rules to be present and fail to vote.
+The noise in the corridors grew louder, some one dealt a smashing kick on
+a panel, and Wetherell ventured to ask Mr. Bixby if he thought the doors
+would hold.
+
+"They can break in all they've a mind to now," he chuckled; "the Truro
+Franchise is safe."
+
+"What do you mean?" Wetherell demanded excitedly.
+
+"If a member hain't present when a question is put, he can't git into a
+roll-call," said Bijah.
+
+The fact that the day was lost was evidently brought home to those below,
+for the strife subsided gradually, and finally ceased altogether.  The
+whispers in the gallery died down, the spectators relayed a little.
+Lovejoy alone remained tense, though he had seated himself on a bench,
+and the hot anger in which he had come was now cooled into a
+vindictiveness that set the hard lines of his face even harder.  He still
+clutched the ribbon.  The last part of that famous roll-call was
+conducted so quietly that a stranger entering the House would have
+suspected nothing unusual.  It was finished in absolute silence.
+
+"One hundred and twelve gentlemen have voted in the affirmative, forty-
+eight in the negative, and the bill passes.  The House will attend to the
+title of the bill."
+
+"An act to extend the Truro Railroad to Harwich," said the clerk, glibly.
+
+"Such will be the title of the bill unless otherwise ordered by the
+House," said Mr. Speaker Sutton.  "The doorkeepers will open the doors."
+
+Somebody moved to adjourn, the motion was carried, and thus ended what
+has gone down to history as the Woodchuck Session.  Pandemonium reigned.
+One hundred and forty belated members fought their way in at the four
+entrances, and mingled with them were lobbyists of all sorts and
+conditions, residents and visitors to the capital, men and women to whom
+the drama of "Uncle Tom's Cabin" was as nothing to that of the Truro
+Franchise Bill.  It was a sight to look down upon.  Fierce wrangles began
+in a score of places, isolated personal remarks rose above the din, but
+your New Englander rarely comes to blows; in other spots men with broad
+smiles seized others by the hands and shook them violently, while Mr.
+Speaker Sutton seemed in danger of suffocation by his friends.  His
+enemies, for the moment, could get nowhere near him.  On this scene Mr.
+Bijah Bixby gazed with pardonable pleasure.
+
+"Guess there wahn't a mite of trouble about the river towns," he said, "I
+had 'em in my pocket.  Will, let's amble round to the theatre.  We ought
+to git in two acts."
+
+William Wetherell went.  There is no need to go into the psychology of
+the matter.  It may have been numbness; it may have been temporary
+insanity caused by the excitement of the battle he had witnessed, for his
+brain was in a whirl; or Mr. Bixby may have hypnotized him.  As they
+walked through the silent streets toward the Opera House, he listened
+perforce to Mr. Bixby's comments upon some of the innumerable details
+which Jethro had planned and quietly carried out while sitting, in the
+window of the Throne Room.  A great light dawned on William Wetherell,
+but too late.
+
+Jethro's trusted lieutenants (of whom, needless to say, Mr. Bixby was
+one) had been commanded to notify such of their supporters whose fidelity
+and secrecy could be absolutely depended upon to attend the Woodchuck
+Session; and, further to guard against surprise, this order had not gone
+out until the last minute (hence Mr. Amos Cuthbert's conduct).  The seats
+of these members at the theatre had been filled by accommodating
+townspeople and visitors.  Forestalling a possible vote on the morrow to
+recall and reconsider, there remained some sixty members whose loyalty
+was unquestioned, but whose reputation for discretion was not of the
+best.  So much for the parliamentary side of the affair, which was a
+revelation of generalship and organization to William Wetherell.  By the
+time he had grasped it they were come in view of the lights of Fosters
+Opera House, and they perceived, among a sprinkling of idlers, a
+conspicuous and meditative gentleman leaning against a pillar.  He was
+ludicrously tall and ludicrously thin, his hands were in his trousers
+pockets, and the skirts of his Sunday broadcloth coat hung down behind
+him awry.  One long foot was crossed over the other and rested on the
+point of the toe, and his head was tilted to one side.  He had, on the
+whole, the appearance of a rather mournful stork.  Mr. Bixby approached
+him gravely, seized him by the lower shoulder, and tilted him down until
+it was possible to speak into his ear.  The gentleman apparently did not
+resent this, although he seemed in imminent danger of being upset.
+
+"How be you, Peleg?  Er--you know Will?"
+
+"No," said the gentleman.
+
+Mr. Bixby seized Mr. Wetherell under the elbow, and addressed himself to
+the storekeeper's ear.
+
+"Will, I want you to shake hands with Senator Peleg Hartington, of
+Brampton.  This is Will Wetherell, Peleg,--from Coniston--you
+understand."
+
+The senator took one hand from his pocket.
+
+"How be you?" he said.  Mr. Bixby was once more pulling down on his
+shoulder.
+
+"H-haow was it here?" he demanded.
+
+"Almighty funny," answered Senator Hartington, sadly, and waved at the
+lobby.  "There wahn't standin' room in the place."
+
+"Jethro Bass Republican Club come and packed the entrance," explained Mr.
+Bixby with a wink.  "You understand, Will?  Go on, Peleg."
+
+"Sidewalk and street, too," continued Mr. Hartington, slowly. "First come
+along Ball of Towles, hollerin' like blazes.  They crumpled him all up
+and lost him.  Next come old man Duncan himself."
+
+"Will kep' Duncan," Mr. Bixby interjected.
+
+"That was wholly an accident," exclaimed Mr. Wetherell, angrily.
+
+"Will wahn't born in the country," said Mr. Bixby.
+
+Mr. Hartington bestowed on the storekeeper a mournful look, and
+continued:--
+
+"Never seed Duncan sweatin' before.  He didn't seem to grasp why the boys
+was there."
+
+"Didn't seem to understand," put in Mr. Bixby, sympathetically.
+
+"'For God's sake, gentlemen,' says he, 'let me in!  The Truro Bill!'
+'The Truro Bill hain't in the theatre, Mr. Duncan,' says Dan Everett.
+Cussed if I didn't come near laughin'.  'That's "Uncle Tom's Cabin," Mr.
+Duncan,' says Dan.  'You're a dam fool,' says Duncan.  I didn't know he
+was profane.  'Make room for Mr. Duncan,' says Dan, 'he wants to see the
+show.'  'I'm a-goin' to see you in jail for this, Everett,' says Duncan.
+They let him push in about half a rod, and they swallowed him.  He was
+makin' such a noise that they had to close the doors of the theatre--so's
+not to disturb the play-actors."
+
+"You understand," said Mr. Bixby to Wetherell.  Whereupon he gave another
+shake to Mr. Hartington, who had relapsed into a sort of funereal
+meditation.
+
+"Well," resumed that personage, "there was some more come, hollerin'
+about the Truro Bill.  Not many.  Guess they'll all have to git their
+wimmen-folks to press their clothes to-morrow.  Then Duncan wanted to git
+out again, but 'twan't exactly convenient.  Callated he was suffocatin'--
+seemed to need air.  Little mite limp when he broke loose, Duncan was."
+
+The Honorable Peleg stopped again, as if he were overcome by the
+recollection of Mr. Duncan's plight.
+
+"Er--er--Peleg!"
+
+Mr. Hartington started.
+
+"What'd they do?--what'd they do?"
+
+"Do?"
+
+"How'd they git notice to 'em?"
+
+"Oh," said Mr. Hartington, "cussed if that wuhn't funny.  Let's see,
+where was I?  After awhile they went over t'other side of the street,
+talkin' sly, waitin' for the act to end.  But goldarned if it ever did
+end."
+
+For once Mr. Bixby didn't seem to understand.
+
+"D-didn't end?"
+
+"No," explained Mr. Hartington; "seems they hitched a kind of nigger
+minstrel show right on to it--banjos and thingumajigs in front of the
+curtain while they was changin' scenes, and they hitched the second act
+right on to that.  Nobody come out of the theatre at all.  Funny notion,
+wahn't it?"
+
+Mr. Bixby's face took on a look of extreme cunning.  He smiled broadly
+and poked Mr. Wetherell in an extremely sensitive portion of his ribs.
+On such occasions the nasal quality of Bijah's voice seemed to grow.
+
+"You see?" he said.
+
+"Know that little man, Gibbs, don't ye?" inquired Mr. Hartington.
+
+"Airley Gibbs, hain't it?  Runs a livery business daown to Rutgers, on
+Lovejoy's railroad," replied Mr. Bixby, promptly. "I know him.  Knew old
+man Gibbs well's I do you.  Mean cuss."
+
+"This Airley's smart--wahn't quite smart enough, though.  His bright idea
+come a little mite late.  Hunted up old Christy, got the key to his law
+office right here in the Duncan Block, went up through the skylight,
+clumb down to the roof of Randall's store next door, shinned up the
+lightnin' rod on t'other side, and stuck his head plump into the Opery
+House window."
+
+"I want to know!" ejaculated Mr. Bixby.
+
+"Somethin' terrible pathetic was goin' on on the stage," resumed Mr.
+Hartington, "the folks didn't see him at first,--they was all cryin' and
+everythin' was still, but Airley wahn't affected.  As quick as he got his
+breath he hollered right out loud's he could: 'The Truro Bill's up in the
+House, boys.  We're skun if you don't git thar quick.'  Then they tell
+me' the lightnin' rod give way; anyhow, he came down on Randall's gravel
+roof considerable hard, I take it."
+
+Mr. Hartington, apparently, had an aggravating way of falling into
+mournful revery and of forgetting his subject.  Mr. Bixby was forced to
+jog him again.
+
+"Yes, they did," he said, "they did.  They come out like the theatre was
+afire.  There was some delay in gettin' to the street, but not much--not
+much.  All the Republican Clubs in the state couldn't have held 'em then,
+and the profanity they used wahn't especially edifyin'."
+
+"Peleg's a deacon--you understand," said Mr. Bixby.  "Say, Peleg, where
+was Al Lovejoy?"
+
+"Lovejoy come along with the first of 'em.  Must have hurried some--they
+tell me he was settin' way down in front alongside of Alvy Hopkins's gal,
+and when Airley hollered out she screeched and clutched on to Al, and Al
+said somethin' he hadn't ought to and tore off one of them pink gew-gaws
+she was covered with.  He was the maddest man I ever see.  Some of the
+club was crowded inside, behind the seats, standin' up to see the show.
+Al was so anxious to git through he hit Si Dudley in the mouth--injured
+him some, I guess.  Pity, wahn't it?"
+
+"Si hain't in politics, you understand," said Mr. Bixby.  "Callate Si
+paid to git in there, didn't he, Peleg?"
+
+"Callate he did," assented Senator Hartington.
+
+A long and painful pause followed.  There seemed, indeed, nothing more
+to be said.  The sound of applause floated out of the Opera House doors,
+around which the remaining loiterers were clustered.
+
+"Goin' in, be you, Peleg?" inquired Mr. Bixby.
+
+Mr. Hartington shook his head.
+
+"Will and me had a notion to see somethin' of the show," said Mr. Bixby,
+almost apologetically.  "I kep' my ticket."
+
+"Well," said Mr. Hartington, reflectively, "I guess you'll find some of
+the show left.  That hain't b'en hurt much, so far as I can ascertain."
+
+The next afternoon, when Mr. Isaac D. Worthington happened to be sitting
+alone in the office of the Truro Railroad at the capital, there came a
+knock at the door, and Mr. Bijah Bixby entered.  Now, incredible as it
+may seem, Mr. Worthington did not know Mr. Bixby--or rather, did not
+remember him.  Mr. Worthington had not had at that time much of an
+experience in politics, and he did not possess a very good memory for
+faces.
+
+Mr. Bixby, who had, as we know, a confidential and winning manner, seated
+himself in a chair very close to Mr. Worthington--somewhat to that
+gentleman's alarm.  "How be you?" said Bijah, "I-I've got a little bill
+here--you understand."
+
+Mr. Worthington didn't understand, and he drew his chair away from Mr.
+Bixby's.
+
+"I don't know anything about it, sir," answered the president of the
+Truro Railroad, indignantly; "this is neither the manner nor the place to
+present a bill.  I don't want to see it."
+
+Mr. Bixby moved his chair up again.  "Callate you will want to see this
+bill, Mr. Worthington," he insisted, not at all abashed.  "Jethro Bass
+sent it--you understand--it's engrossed."
+
+Whereupon Mr. Bixby drew from his capacious pocket a roll, tied with
+white ribbon, and pressed it into Mr. Worthington's hands.  It was the
+Truro Franchise Bill.
+
+It is safe to say that Mr. Worthington understood.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+There are certain instruments used by scientists so delicate that they
+have to be wrapped in cotton wool and kept in ductless places, and so
+sensitive that the slightest shock will derange them.  And there are
+certain souls which cannot stand the jars of life--souls created to
+register thoughts and sentiments too fine for those of coarser
+construction.  Such was the soul of the storekeeper of Coniston.  Whether
+or not he was one of those immortalized in the famous Elegy, it is not
+for us to say.  A celebrated poet who read the letters to the Guardian--
+at Miss Lucretia Penniman's request--has declared Mr. Wetherell to have
+been a genius.  He wrote those letters, as we know, after he had piled
+his boxes and rolled his barrels into place; after he had added up the
+columns in his ledger and recorded, each week, the small but ever
+increasing deficit which he owed to Jethro Bass.  Could he have been
+removed from the barrels and the ledgers, and the debts and the cares and
+the implications, what might we have had from his pen?  That will never
+be known.
+
+We left him in the lobby of the Opera House, but he did not go in to see
+the final act of "Uncle Tom's Cabin."  He made his way, alone, back to
+the hotel, slipped in by a side entrance, and went directly to his room,
+where Cynthia found him, half an hour later, seated by the open window in
+the dark.
+
+"Aren't you well, Dad?" she asked anxiously.  "Why didn't you come to see
+the play?"
+
+"I--I was detained Cynthia," he said.  "Yes--I am well."
+
+She sat down beside him and felt his forehead and his hands, and the
+events of the evening which were on her lips to tell him remained
+unspoken.
+
+"You ought not to have left Coniston," she said; "the excitement is too
+much for you.  We will go back tomorrow."
+
+"Yes, Cynthia, we will go back to-morrow."
+
+"In the morning?"
+
+"On the early train," said Wetherell, "and now you must go to sleep."
+
+"I am glad," said Cynthia, as she kissed him good night.  "I have enjoyed
+it here, and I am grateful to Uncle Jethro for bringing us, but--but I
+like Coniston best."
+
+William Wetherell could have slept but a few hours.  When he awoke the
+sparrows were twittering outside, the fresh cool smells of the morning
+were coming in at his windows, and the sunlight was just striking across
+the roofs through the green trees of the Capitol Park.  The remembrance
+of a certain incident of the night before crept into his mind, and he got
+up, and drew on his clothes and thrust his few belongings into the
+carpet-bag, and knocked on Cynthia's door.  She was already dressed, and
+her eyes rested searchingly on his face.
+
+"Dad, you aren't well.  I know it," she said.
+
+But he denied that he was not.
+
+Her belongings were in a neat little bundle under her arm.  But when she
+went to put them in the bag she gave an exclamation, knelt down, took
+everything out that he had packed, and folded each article over again
+with amazing quickness.  Then she made a rapid survey of the room lest
+she had forgotten anything, closed the bag, and they went out and along
+the corridor.  But when Wetherell turned to go down the stairs, she
+stopped him.
+
+"Aren't you going to say goodby to Uncle Jethro?"
+
+"I--I would rather go on and get in the train, Cynthia," he said.
+"Jethro will understand."
+
+Cynthia was worried, but she did not care to leave him; and she led him,
+protesting, into the dining room.  He had a sinking fear that they might
+meet Jethro there, but only a few big-boned countrymen were scattered
+about, attended by sleepy waitresses.  Lest Cynthia might suspect how his
+head was throbbing, Wetherell tried bravely to eat his breakfast.  He did
+not know that she had gone out, while they were waiting, and written a
+note to Jethro, explaining that her father was ill, and that they were
+going back to Coniston.  After breakfast, when they went to the desk, the
+clerk stared at them in astonishment.
+
+"Going, Mr. Wetherell?" he exclaimed.
+
+"I find that I have to get back," stammered the storekeeper. "Will you
+tell me the amount of my bill?"
+
+"Judge Bass gave me instructions that he would settle that."
+
+"It is very kind of Mr. Bass," said Wetherell, "but I prefer to pay it
+myself."
+
+The man hesitated.
+
+"The judge will be very angry, Mr. Wetherell."
+
+"Kindly give me the bill."
+
+The clerk made it out and handed it over in silence.  Wetherell had in
+his pocket the money from several contributions to the Guardian, and he
+paid him.  Then they set out for the station, bought their tickets and
+hurried past the sprinkling of people there.  The little train for Truro
+was standing under the sheds, the hissing steam from the locomotive
+rising perpendicular in the still air of the morning, and soon they were
+settled in one of the straight-backed seats.  The car was almost empty,
+for few people were going up that day, and at length, after what, seemed
+an eternity of waiting, they started, and soon were in the country once
+more in that wonderful Truro valley with its fruit trees and its clover
+scents; with its sparkling stream that tumbled through the passes and
+mirrored between green meadow-banks the blue and white of the sky.  How
+hungrily they drank in the freshness of it.
+
+They reached Truro village at eleven.  Outside the little tavern there,
+after dinner, the green stage was drawn up; and Tom the driver cracked
+his long whip over the Morgan leaders and they started, swaying in the
+sand ruts and jolting over the great stones that cropped out of the road.
+Up they climbed, through narrow ways in the forest--ways hedged with
+alder and fern and sumach and wild grape, adorned with oxeye daisies and
+tiger lilies, and the big purple flowers which they knew and loved so
+well.  They passed, too, wild lakes overhung with primeval trees, where
+the iris and the waterlily grew among the fallen trunks and the water-
+fowl called to each other across the blue stretches.  And at length, when
+the sun was beginning visibly to fall, they came out into an open cut on
+the western side and saw again the long line of Coniston once more
+against the sky.
+
+"Dad," said Cynthia, as she gazed, "don't you love it better than any
+other place in the world?"
+
+He did.  But he could not answer her.
+
+An hour later, from the hilltops above Isaac Worthington's mills, they
+saw the terraced steeple of Brampton church, and soon the horses were
+standing with drooping heads and wet sides in front of Mr. Sherman's
+tavern in Brampton Street; and Lem Hallowell, his honest face aglow with
+joy, was lifting Cynthia out of the coach as if she were a bundle of
+feathers.
+
+"Upon my word," he cried, "this is a little might sudden!  What's the
+matter with the capital, Will?  Too wicked and sophisticated down thar to
+suit ye?"  By this time, Wetherell, too, had reached the ground, and as
+Lem Hallowell gazed into his face the laughter in his own died away and
+gave place to a look of concern.  "Don't wonder ye come back," he said,
+"you're as white as Moses's hoss."
+
+"He isn't feeling very well, Lem;" said Cynthia.
+
+"Jest tuckered, that's all," answered Lem; "you git him right into the
+stage, Cynthy, I won't be long.  Hurry them things off, Tom," he called,
+and himself seized a huge crate from the back of the coach and flung it
+on his shoulder.  He had his cargo on in a jiffy, clucked to his horses,
+and they turned into the familiar road to Coniston just as the sun was
+dipping behind the south end of the mountain.
+
+"They'll be surprised some, and disappointed some," said Lem, cheerily;
+"they was kind of plannin' a little celebration when you come back, Will-
+-you and Cynthy.  Amandy Hatch was a-goin' to bake a cake, and the
+minister was callatin' to say some word of welcome.  Wahn't goin' to be
+anything grand--jest homelike.  But you was right to come if you was
+tuckered.  I guess Cynthy fetched you.  Rias he kep' store and done it
+well,--brisker'n I ever see him, Rias was.  Wait till I put some of them
+things back, and make you more comfortable, Will."
+
+He moved a few parcels and packages from Wetherell's feet and glanced at
+Cynthia as he did so.  The mountain cast its vast blue shadow over forest
+and pasture, and above the pines the white mist was rising from Coniston
+Water--rising in strange shapes.  Lem's voice seemed to William Wetherell
+to have given way to a world-wide silence, in the midst of which he
+sought vainly for Cynthia and the stage driver.  Most extraordinary of
+all, out of the silence and the void came the checker-paned windows of
+the store at Coniston, then the store itself, with the great oaks bending
+over it, then the dear familiar faces,--Moses and Amandy, Eph Prescott
+limping toward them, and little Rias Richardson in an apron with a scoop
+shovel in his hand, and many others.  They were not smiling at the
+storekeeper's return--they looked very grave.  Then somebody lifted him
+tenderly from the stage and said:--
+
+"Don't you worry a mite, Cynthy.  Jest tuckered, that's all."
+
+William Wetherell was "just tuckered."  The great Dr. Coles, authority on
+pulmonary troubles, who came all the way from Boston, could give no
+better verdict than that.  It was Jethro Bass who had induced Dr. Coles
+to come to Coniston--much against the great man's inclination, and to the
+detriment of his patients: Jethro who, on receiving Cynthia's note, had
+left the capital on the next train and had come to Coniston, and had at
+once gone to Boston for the specialist.
+
+"I do not know why I came," said the famous physician to Dr. Abraham
+Rowell of Tarleton, "I never shall know.  There is something about that
+man Jethro Bass which compels you to do his will.  He has a most
+extraordinary personality.  Is this storekeeper a great friend of his?"
+
+"The only intimate friend he had in the world," answered Dr. Rowell;
+"none of us could ever understand it.  And as for the girl, Jethro Bass
+worships her."
+
+"If nursing could cure him, I'd trust her to do it.  She's a natural-born
+nurse."
+
+The two physicians were talking in low tones in the little garden behind
+the store when Jethro came out of the doorway.
+
+"He looks as if he were suffering too," said the Boston physician, and he
+walked toward Jethro and laid a hand upon his shoulders. "I give him
+until winter, my friend," said Dr. Coles.
+
+Jethro Bass sat down on the doorstep--on that same millstone where he had
+talked with Cynthia many years before--and was silent for a long while.
+The doctor was used to scenes of sorrow, but the sight of this man's
+suffering unnerved him, and he turned from it.
+
+"D-doctor?" said Jethro, at last.
+
+The doctor turned again: "Yes?" he said.
+
+"D-doctor--if Wetherell hadn't b'en to the capital would he have lived--
+if he hadn't been to the capital?"
+
+"My friend," said Dr. Coles, "if Mr. Wetherell had always lived in a warm
+house, and had always been well fed, and helped over the rough places and
+shielded from the storms, he might have lived longer.  It is a marvel to
+me that he has lived so long."
+
+And then the doctor went way, back to Boston.  Many times in his long
+professional life had the veil been lifted for him--a little.  But as he
+sat in the train he said to himself that in this visit to the hamlet of
+Coniston he had had the strangest glimpse of all.  William Wetherell
+rallied, as Dr. Coles had predicted, from that first sharp attack, and
+one morning they brought up a reclining chair which belonged to Mr.
+Satterlee, the minister, and set it in the window.  There, in the still
+days of the early autumn, Wetherell looked down upon the garden he had
+grown to love, and listened to the song of Coniston Water.  There
+Cynthia, who had scarcely left his side, read to him from Keats and
+Shelley and Tennyson--yet the thought grew on her that he did not seem to
+hear.  Even that wonderful passage of Milton's, beginning "So sinks the
+day-star in the ocean bed," which he always used to beg her to repeat,
+did not seem to move him now.
+
+The neighbors came and sat with him, but he would not often speak.
+Cheery Lem Hallowell and his wife, and Cousin Ephraim, to talk about the
+war, hobbling slowly up the stairs--for rheumatism had been added to that
+trouble of the Wilderness bullet now, and Ephraim was getting along in
+years; and Rias Richardson stole up in his carpet slippers; and Moses,
+after his chores were done, and Amandy with her cakes and delicacies,
+which he left untouched--though Amandy never knew it.  Yes, and Jethro
+came.  Day by day he would come silently into the room, and sit silently
+for a space, and go as silently out of it.  The farms were neglected now
+on Thousand Acre Hill.  William Wetherell would take his hand, and speak
+to him, but do no more than that.
+
+There were times when Cynthia leaned over him, listening as he breathed
+to know whether he slept or were awake.  If he were not sleeping, he
+would speak her name: he repeated it often in those days, as though the
+sound of it gave him comfort; and he would fall asleep with it on his
+lips, holding her hand, and thinking, perhaps, of that other Cynthia who
+had tended and nursed and shielded him in other days.  Then she would
+steal down the stairs to Jethro on the doorstep: to Jethro who would sit
+there for hours at a time, to the wonder and awe of his neighbors.
+Although they knew that he loved the storekeeper as he loved no other
+man, his was a grief that they could not understand.
+
+Cynthia used to go to Jethro in the garden.  Sorrow had brought them very
+near together; and though she had loved him before, now he had become her
+reliance and her refuge.  The first time Cynthia saw him; when the worst
+of the illness had passed and the strange and terrifying apathy had come,
+she had hidden her head on his shoulder and wept there.  Jethro kept that
+coat, with the tear stains on it, to his dying day, and never wore it
+again.
+
+"Sometimes--sometimes I think if he hadn't gone to the capital, Cynthy,
+this mightn't hev come," he said to her once.
+
+"But the doctor said that didn't matter, Uncle Jethro," she answered,
+trying to comfort him.  She, too, believed that something had happened at
+the capital.
+
+"N-never spoke to you about anything there--n-never spoke to you,
+Cynthia?"
+
+"No, never," she said.  "He--he hardly speaks at all, Uncle Jethro."
+
+One bright morning after the sun had driven away the frost, when the
+sumacs and maples beside Coniston Water were aflame with red, Bias
+Richardson came stealing up the stairs and whispered something to
+Cynthia.
+
+"Dad," she said, laying down her book, "it's Mr. Merrill.  Will you see
+him?"
+
+William Wetherell gave her a great fright.  He started up from his
+pillows, and seized her wrist with a strength which she had not thought
+remained in his fingers.
+
+"Mr. Merrill!" he cried--"Mr. Merrill here!"
+
+"Yes," answered Cynthia, agitatedly, "he's downstairs--in the store."
+
+"Ask him to come up," said Wetherell, sinking back again, "ask him to
+come up."
+
+Cynthia, as she stood in the passage, was of two minds about it.  She was
+thoroughly frightened, and went first to the garden to ask Jethro's
+advice.  But Jethro, so Milly Skinner said, had gone off half an hour
+before, and did not know that Mr. Merrill had arrived.  Cynthia went back
+again to her father.
+
+"Where's Mr. Merrill?" asked Wetherell.
+
+"Dad, do you think you ought to see him?  He--he might excite you."
+
+"I insist upon seeing him, Cynthia."
+
+William Wetherell had never said anything like that before.  But Cynthia
+obeyed him, and presently led Mr. Merrill into the room.  The kindly
+little railroad president was very serious now.  The wasted face of the
+storekeeper, enhanced as it was by the beard, gave Mr. Merrill such a
+shock that he could not speak for a few moments--he who rarely lacked for
+cheering words on any occasion.  A lump rose in his throat as he went
+over and stood by the chair and took the sick man's hand.
+
+"I am glad you came, Mr. Merrill," said Wetherell, simply, "I wanted to
+speak to you.  Cynthia, will you leave us alone for a few minutes?"
+
+Cynthia went, troubled and perplexed, wondering at the change in him.  He
+had had something on his mind--now she was sure of it--something which
+Mr. Merrill might be able to relieve.
+
+It was Mr. Merrill who spoke first when she was gone.
+
+"I was coming up to Brampton," he said, "and Tom Collins, who drives the
+Truro coach, told me you were sick.  I had not heard of it."
+
+Mr. Merrill, too, had something on his mind, and did not quite know how
+to go on.  There was in William Wetherell, as he sat in the chair with
+his eyes fixed on his visitor's face, a dignity which Mr. Merrill had not
+seen before--had not thought the man might possess.
+
+"I was coming to see you, anyway," Mr. Merrill said.
+
+"I did you a wrong--though as God judges me, I did not think of it at the
+time.  It was not until Alexander Duncan spoke to me last week that I
+thought of it at all."
+
+"Yes," said Wetherell.
+
+"You see," continued Mr. Merrill wiping his brow, for he found the matter
+even more difficult than he had imagined, "it was not until Duncan told
+me how you had acted in his library that I guessed the truth--that I
+remembered myself how you had acted.  I knew that you were not mixed up
+in politics, but I also knew that you were an intimate friend of
+Jethro's, and I thought that you had been let into the secret of the
+woodchuck session.  I don't defend the game of politics as it is played,
+Mr. Wetherell, but all of us who are friends of Jethro's are generally
+willing to lend a hand in any little manoeuvre that is going on, and have
+a practical joke when we can.  It was not until I saw you sitting there
+beside Duncan that the idea occurred to me.  It didn't make a great deal
+of difference whether Duncan or Lovejoy got to the House or not, provided
+they didn't learn of the matter too early, because some of their men had
+been bought off that day.  It suited Jethro's sense of humor to play the
+game that way--and it was very effective.  When I saw you there beside
+Duncan I remembered that he had spoken about the Guardian letters, and
+the notion occurred to me to get him to show you his library.  I have
+explained to him that you were innocent.  I--I hope you haven't been
+worrying."
+
+William Wetherell sat very still for a while, gazing out of the window,
+but a new look had come into his eyes.
+
+"Jethro Bass did not know that you--that you had used me?" he asked at
+length.
+
+"No," replied Mr. Merrill thickly, "no.  He didn't know a thing about it
+--he doesn't know it now, I believe."
+
+A smile came upon Wetherell's face, but Mr. Merrill could not look at it.
+
+"You have made me very happy," said the storekeeper, tremulously.  "I--I
+have no right to be proud--I have taken his money--he has supported my
+daughter and myself all these years.  But he had never asked me to--to do
+anything, and I liked to think that he never would."
+
+Mr. Merrill could not speak.  The tears were streaming down his cheeks.
+
+"I want you to promise me, Mr. Merril!" he went on presently, "I want you
+to promise me that you will never speak to Jethro, of this, or to my
+daughter, Cynthia."
+
+Mr. Merrill merely nodded his head in assent.  Still he could not speak.
+
+"They might think it was this that caused my death.  It was not.  I know
+very well that I am worn out, and that I should have gone soon in any
+case.  And I must leave Cynthia to him.  He loves her as his own child."
+
+William Wetherell, his faith in Jethro restored, was facing death as he
+had never faced life.  Mr. Merrill was greatly affected.
+
+"You must not speak of dying, Wetherell," said he, brokenly.  "Will you
+forgive me?"
+
+"There is nothing to forgive, now that you have explained matters, Mr.
+Merrill" said the storekeeper, and he smiled again.  "If my fibre had
+been a little tougher, this thing would never have happened.  There is
+only one more request I have to make.  And that is, to assure Mr. Duncan,
+from me, that I did not detain him purposely."
+
+"I will see him on my way to Boston," answered Mr. Merrill.
+
+Then Cynthia was called.  She was waiting anxiously in the passage for
+the interview to be ended, and when she came in one glance at her
+father's face told her that he was happier.  She, too, was happier.
+
+"I wish you would come every day, Mr. Merrill" she said, when they
+descended into the garden after the three had talked awhile.  "It is the
+first time since he fell ill that he seems himself."
+
+Mr. Merrill's answer was to take her hand and pat it.  He sat down on the
+millstone and drew a deep breath of that sparkling air and sighed, for
+his memory ran back to his own innocent boyhood in the New England
+country.  He talked to Cynthia until Jethro came.
+
+"I have taken a fancy to this girl, Jethro," said the little railroad
+president, "I believe I'll steal her; a fellow can't have too many of
+'em, you know.  I'll tell you one thing,--you won't keep her always shut
+up here in Coniston.  She's much too good to waste on the desert air."
+Perhaps Mr. Merrill, too, had been thinking of the Elegy that morning.
+"I don't mean to run down Coniston it's one of the most beautiful places
+I ever saw.  But seriously, Jethro, you and Wetherell ought to send her
+to school in Boston after a while.  She's about the age of my girls, and
+she can live in my house: Ain't I right?"
+
+"D-don't know but what you be, Steve," Jethro answered slowly.
+
+"I am right," declared Mr. Merrill "you'll back me in this, I know it.
+Why, she's like your own daughter.  You remember what I say.  I mean it.
+--"What are you thinking about, Cynthia?"
+
+"I couldn't leave Dad and Uncle Jethro," she said.
+
+"Why, bless your soul," said Mr. Merrill "bring Dad along.  We'll find
+room for him.  And I guess Uncle Jethro will get to Boston twice a month
+if you're there."
+
+And Mr. Merrill got into the buggy with Mr. Sherman and drove away to
+Brampton, thinking of many things.
+
+"S-Steve's a good man," said Jethro.  "C-come up here from Brampton to
+see your father--did he?"
+
+"Yes," answered Cynthia, "he is very kind."  She was about to tell Jethro
+what a strange difference this visit had made in her father's spirits,
+but some instinct kept her silent.  She knew that Jethro had never ceased
+to reproach himself for inviting Wetherell to the capital, and she was
+sure that something had happened there which had disturbed her father and
+brought on that fearful apathy.  But the apathy was dispelled now, and
+she shrank from giving Jethro pain by mentioning the fact.
+
+He never knew, indeed, until many years afterward, what had brought
+Stephen Merrill to Coniston.  When Jethro went up the stairs that
+afternoon, he found William Wetherell alone, looking out over the garden
+with a new peace and contentment in his eyes.  Jethro drew breath when he
+saw that look, as if a great load had been lifted from his heart.
+
+"F-feelin' some better to-day, Will?" he said.
+
+"I am well again, Jethro," replied the storekeeper, pressing Jethro's
+hand for the first time in months.
+
+"S-soon be, Will," said Jethro, "s-soon be."
+
+Wetherell, who was not speaking of the welfare of the body, did not
+answer.
+
+"Jethro," he said presently, "there is a little box lying in the top of
+my trunk over there in the corner.  Will you get it for me."
+
+Jethro rose and opened the rawhide trunk and handed the little rosewood
+box to his friend.  Wetherell took it and lifted the lid reverently, with
+that same smile on his face and far-off look in his eyes, and drew out a
+small daguerreotype in a faded velvet frame.  He gazed at the picture a
+long time, and then he held it out to Jethro; and Jethro looked at it,
+and his hand trembled.
+
+It was a picture of Cynthia Ware.  And who can say what emotions it awoke
+in Jethro's heart?  She was older than the Cynthia he had known, and yet
+she did not seem so.  There was the same sweet, virginal look in the gray
+eyes, and the same exquisite purity in the features.  He saw her again--
+as if it were yesterday--walking in the golden green light under the
+village maples, and himself standing in the tannery door; he saw the face
+under the poke bonnet on the road to Brampton, and heard the thrush
+singing in the woods.  And--if he could only blot out that scene from his
+life!--remembered her, a transformed Cynthia,--remembered that face in
+the lantern-light when he had flung back the hood that shaded it; and
+that hair which he had kissed, wet, then, from the sleet.  Ah, God, for
+that briefest of moments she had been his!
+
+So he stared at the picture as it lay in the palm of his hand, and forgot
+him who had been her husband.  But at length he started, as from a dream,
+and gave it back to Wetherell, who was watching him.  Her name had never
+been mentioned between the two men, and yet she had been the one woman in
+the world to both.
+
+"It is strange," said William Wetherell, "it is strange that I should
+have had but two friends in my life, and that she should have been one
+and you the other.  She found me destitute and brought me back to life
+and married me, and cared for me until she died.  And after that--you
+cared for me."
+
+"You--you mustn't think of that, Will, 'twahn't much what I did--no more
+than any one else would hev done!"
+
+"It was everything," answered the storekeeper, simply; "each of you came
+between me and destruction.  There is something that I have always meant
+to tell you, Jethro,--something that it may be a comfort for you to know.
+Cynthia loved you."
+
+Jethro Bass did not answer.  He got up and stood in the window, looking
+out.
+
+"When she married me," Wetherell continued steadily, "she told me that
+there was one whom she had never been able to drive from her heart.  And
+one summer evening, how well I recall it!--we were walking under the
+trees on the Mall and we met my old employer, Mr. Judson, the jeweller.
+He put me in mind of the young countryman who had come in to buy a
+locket, and I asked her if she knew you.  Strange that I should have
+remembered your name, wasn't it?  It was then that she led me to a bench
+and confessed that you were the man whom she could not forget.  I used to
+hate you then--as much as was in me to hate.  I hated and feared you when
+I first came to Coniston.  But now I can tell you--I can even be happy in
+telling you."
+
+Jethro Bass groaned.  He put his hand to his throat as though he were
+stifling.  Many, many years ago he had worn the locket there.  And now?
+Now an impulse seized him, and he yielded to it.  He thrust his hand in
+his coat and drew out a cowhide wallet, and from the wallet the oval
+locket itself.  There it was, tarnished with age, but with that memorable
+inscription still legible,--"Cynthy, from Jethro"; not Cynthia, but
+Cynthy.  How the years fell away as he read it!  He handed it in silence
+to the storekeeper, and in silence went to the window again.  Jethro Bass
+was a man who could find no outlet for his agony in speech or tears.
+
+"Yes," said Wetherell, "I thought you would have kept it.  Dear, dear,
+how well I remember it!  And I remember how I patronized you when you
+came into the shop.  I believed I should live to be something in the
+world, then.  Yes, she loved you, Jethro.  I can die more easily now that
+I have told you--it has been on my mind all these years."
+
+The locket fell open in William Wetherell's hand, for the clasp had
+become worn with time, and there was a picture of little Cynthia within:
+of little Cynthia,--not so little now,--a photograph taken in Brampton
+the year before.  Wetherell laid it beside the daguerreotype.
+
+"She looks like her," he said aloud; "but the child is more vigorous,
+more human--less like a spirit.  I have always thought of Cynthia Ware as
+a spirit."
+
+Jethro turned at the words, and came and stood looking over Wetherell's
+shoulder at the pictures of mother and daughter.  In the rosewood box was
+a brooch and a gold ring--Cynthia Ware's wedding ring--and two small
+slips of yellow paper.  William Wetherell opened one of these, disclosing
+a little braid of brown hair.  He folded the paper again and laid it in
+the locket, and handed that to Jethro.
+
+"It is all I have to give you," he said, "but I know that you will
+cherish it, and cherish her, when I am gone.  She--she has been a
+daughter to both of us."
+
+"Yes," said Jethro, "I will."
+
+William Wetherell lived but a few days longer.  They laid him to rest at
+last in the little ground which Captain Timothy Prescott had hewn out of
+the forest with his axe, where Captain Timothy himself lies under his
+slate headstone with the quaint lettering of bygone days.--That same
+autumn Jethro Bass made a pilgrimage to Boston, and now Cynthia Ware
+sleeps there, too, beside her husband, amid the scenes she loved so well.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+Certain souls which cannot stand the jars of life
+It is all I have to give you
+It was almost criminal ignorance
+Sit down under the enemy's ramparts and smoke him out
+Thought that gentlemen and politics were contradictions
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, V2
+by Winston Churchill
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONISTON
+
+
+
+BOOK III
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+One day, in the November following William Wetherell's death, Jethro Bass
+astonished Coniston by moving to the little cottage in the village which
+stood beside the disused tannery, and which had been his father's.  It
+was known as the tannery house.  His reasons for this step, when at
+length discovered, were generally commended: they were, in fact, a
+disinclination to leave a girl of Cynthia's tender age alone on Thousand
+Acre Hill while he journeyed on his affairs about the country.  The Rev.
+Mr. Satterlee, gaunt, red-faced, but the six feet of him a man and a
+Christian, from his square-toed boots to the bleaching yellow hair around
+his temples, offered to become her teacher.  For by this time Cynthia had
+exhausted the resources of the little school among the birches.
+
+The four years of her life in the tannery house which are now briefly to
+be chronicled were, for her, full of happiness and peace.  Though the
+young may sorrow, they do not often mourn.  Cynthia missed her father; at
+times, when the winds kept her wakeful at night, she wept for him.  But
+she loved Jethro Bass and served him with a devotion that filled his
+heart with strange ecstasies--yes, and forebodings.  In all his existence
+he had never known a love like this.  He may have imagined it once, back
+in the bright days of his youth; but the dreams of its fulfilment had
+fallen far short of the exquisite touch of the reality in which he now
+spent his days at home.  In summer, when she sat, in the face of all the
+conventions of the village, reading under the butternut tree before the
+house, she would feel his eyes upon her, and the mysterious yearning in
+them would startle her.  Often during her lessons with Mr. Satterlee in
+the parlor of the parsonage she would hear a noise outside and perceive
+Jethro leaning against the pillar.  Both Cynthia and Mr. Satterlee knew
+that he was there, and both, by a kind of tacit agreement, ignored the
+circumstance.
+
+Cynthia, in this period, undertook Jethro's education, too.  She could
+have induced him to study the making of Latin verse by the mere asking.
+During those days which he spent at home, and which he had grown to value
+beyond price, he might have been seen seated on the ground with his back
+to the butternut tree while Cynthia read aloud from the well-worn books
+which had been her father's treasures, books that took on marvels of
+meaning from her lips.  Cynthia's powers of selection were not remarkable
+at this period, and perhaps it was as well that she never knew the effect
+of the various works upon the hitherto untamed soul of her listener.
+Milton and Tennyson and Longfellow awoke in him by their very music
+troubled and half-formed regrets; Carlyle's "Frederick the Great" set up
+tumultuous imaginings; but the "Life of Jackson" (as did the story of
+Napoleon long ago) stirred all that was masterful in his blood. Unlettered
+as he was, Jethro had a power which often marks the American of action--
+a singular grasp of the application of any sentence or paragraph to his
+own life; and often, about this time, he took away the breath of a judge
+or a senator by flinging at them a chunk of Carlyle or Parton.
+
+It was perhaps as well that Cynthia was not a woman at this time, and
+that she had grown up with him, as it were.  His love, indeed, was that
+of a father for a daughter; but it held within it as a core the revived
+love of his youth for Cynthia, her mother.  Tender as were the
+manifestations of this love, Cynthia never guessed the fires within, for
+there was in truth something primeval in the fierceness of his passion.
+She was his now--his alone, to cherish and sweeten the declining years
+of his life, and when by a chance Jethro looked upon her and thought of
+the suitor who was to come in the fulness of her years, he burned with a
+hatred which it is given few men to feel.  It was well for Jethro that
+these thoughts came not often.
+
+Sometimes, in the summer afternoons, they took long drives through the
+town behind Jethro's white horse on business.  "Jethro's gal," as Cynthia
+came to be affectionately called, held the reins while Jethro went in to
+talk to the men folk.  One August evening found Cynthia thus beside a
+poplar in front of Amos Cuthbert's farmhouse, a poplar that shimmered
+green-gold in the late afternoon, and from the buggy-seat Cynthia looked
+down upon a thousand purple hilltops and mountain peaks of another state.
+The view aroused in the girl visions of the many wonders which life was
+to hold, and she did not hear the sharp voice beside her until the woman
+had spoken twice.  Jethro came out in the middle of the conversation,
+nodded to Mrs. Cuthbert, and drove off.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," asked Cynthia, presently, "what is a mortgage?"
+
+Jethro struck the horse with the whip, an uncommon action with him, and
+the buggy was jerked forward sharply over the boulders.
+
+"Er--who's b'en talkin' about mortgages, Cynthy?" he demanded.
+
+"Mrs. Cuthbert said that when folks had mortgage held over them they had
+to take orders whether they liked them or not.  She said that Amos had to
+do what you told him because there was a mortgage.  That isn't so is it?"
+
+Jethro did not speak.  Presently Cynthia laid her hand over his.
+
+"Mrs. Cuthbert is a spiteful woman," she said.  "I know the reason why
+people obey you--it's because you're so great.  And Daddy used to tell me
+so."
+
+A tremor shook Jethro's frame and the hand on which hers rested, and all
+the way down the mountain valleys to Coniston village he did not speak
+again.  But Cynthia was used to his silences, and respected them.
+
+To Ephraim Prescott, who, as the days went on, found it more and more
+difficult to sew harness on account of his rheumatism, Jethro was not
+only a great man but a hero.  For Cynthia was vaguely troubled at having
+found one discontent.  She was wont to entertain Ephraim on the days when
+his hands failed him, when he sat sunning himself before his door; and
+she knew that he was honest.
+
+"Who's b'en talkin' to you, Cynthia?" he cried.  "Why, Jethro's the
+biggest man I know, and the best.  I don't like to think where some of us
+would have b'en if he hadn't given us a lift."
+
+"But he has enemies, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, still troubled.
+"What great man hain't?" exclaimed the soldier.  "Jethro's enemies hain't
+worth thinkin' about."
+
+The thought that Jethro had enemies was very painful to Cynthia, and she
+wanted to know who they were that she might show them a proper contempt
+if she met them.  Lem Hallowell brushed aside the subject with his usual
+bluff humor, and pinched her cheek and told her not to trouble her head;
+Amanda Hatch dwelt upon the inherent weakness in the human race, and the
+Rev. Mr. Satterlee faced the question once, during a history lesson.  The
+nation's heroes came into inevitable comparison with Jethro Bass.  Was
+Washington so good a man? and would not Jethro have been as great as the
+Father of his Country if he had had the opportunities?
+
+The answers sorely tried Mr. Satterlee's conscience, albeit he was not a
+man of the world.  It set him thinking.  He liked Jethro, this man of
+rugged power whose word had become law in the state.  He knew best that
+side of him which Cynthia saw; and--if the truth be told--as a native of
+Coniston Mr. Satterlee felt in the bottom of his heart a certain pride in
+Jethro.  The minister's opinions well represented the attitude of his
+time.  He had not given thought to the subject--for such matters had came
+to be taken for granted.  A politician now was a politician, his ways and
+standards set apart from those of other citizens, and not to be judged by
+men without the pale of public life.  Mr. Satterlee in his limited vision
+did not then trace the matter to its source, did not reflect that Jethro
+Bass himself was almost wholly responsible in that state for the
+condition of politics and politicians.  Coniston was proud of Jethro,
+prouder of him than ever since his last great victory in the Legislature,
+which brought the Truro Railroad through to Harwich and settled their
+townsman more firmly than ever before in the seat of power.  Every
+statesman who drove into their little mountain village and stopped at
+the tannery house made their blood beat faster.  Senators came, and
+representatives, and judges, and governors, "to git their orders," as
+Rias Richardson briefly put it, and Jethro could make or unmake them at
+a word.  Each was scanned from the store where Rias now reigned supreme,
+and from the harness shop across the road.  Some drove away striving to
+bite from their lips the tell-tale smile which arose in spite of them;
+others tried to look happy, despite the sentence of doom to which they
+had listened.
+
+Jethro Bass was indeed a great man to make such as these tremble or
+rejoice.  When he went abroad with Cynthia awheel or afoot, some took off
+their hats--an unheard-of thing in Coniston.  If he stopped at the store,
+they scanned his face for the mood he was in before venturing their
+remarks; if he lingered for a moment in front of the house of Amanda
+Hatch, the whole village was advised of the circumstance before
+nightfall.
+
+Two personages worthy of mention here visited the tannery house during
+the years that Cynthia lived with Jethro.  The Honorable Heth Sutton
+drove over from Clovelly attended by his prime minister, Mr. Bijah Bixby.
+The Honorable Heth did not attempt to conceal the smile with which he
+went away, and he stopped at the store long enough to enable Rias to
+produce certain refreshments from depths unknown to the United States
+Internal Revenue authorities.  Mr. Sutton shook hands with everybody,
+including Jake Wheeler.  Well he might.  He came to Coniston a private
+citizen, and drove away to all intents and purposes a congressman: the
+darling wish of his life realized after heaven knows how many caucuses
+and conventions of disappointment, when Jethro had judged it expedient
+for one reason or another that a north countryman should go.  By the time
+the pair reached Brampton, Chamberlain Bixby was introducing his chief as
+Congressman Sutton, and by this title he was known for many years to
+come.
+
+Another day, when the snow lay in great billows on the ground and filled
+the mountain valleys, when the pines were rusty from the long winter, two
+other visitors drove to Coniston in a two-horse sleigh.  The sun was
+shining brightly, the wind held its breath, and the noon-day warmth was
+almost like that of spring.  Those who know the mountain country will
+remember the joy of many such days.  Cynthia, standing in the sun on the
+porch, breathing deep of the pure air, recognized, as the sleigh drew
+near, the somewhat portly gentleman driving, and the young woman beside
+him regally clad in furs who looked patronizingly at the tannery house as
+she took the reins.  The young woman was Miss Cassandra Hopkins, and the
+portly gentleman, the Honorable Alva himself, patron of the drama, who
+had entered upon his governorship and now wished to be senator.
+
+"Jethro Bass home?" he called out.
+
+"Mr. Bass is home," answered Cynthia.  The girl in the sleigh murmured
+something, laughing a little, and Cynthia flushed.  Mr. Hopkins gave a
+somewhat peremptory knock at the door and was admitted by Millicent
+Skinner, but Cynthia stood staring at Cassandra in the sleigh, some
+instinct warning her of a coming skirmish.
+
+"Do you live here all the year round?"
+
+"Of course," said Cynthia.
+
+Miss Cassandra shrugged as though that were beyond her comprehension.
+
+"I'd die in a place like this," she said.  "No balls, or theatres.
+Doesn't your father take you around the state?"
+
+"My father's dead," said Cynthia.
+
+"Oh!  Your name's Cynthia Wetherell, isn't it?  You know Bob Worthington,
+don't you?  He's gone to Harvard now, but he was a great friend of mine
+at Andover."
+
+Cynthia didn't answer.  It would not be fair to say that she felt a pang,
+though it might add to the romance of this narrative.  But her dislike
+for the girl in the sleigh decidedly increased.  How was she, in her
+inexperience, to know that the radiant beauty in furs was what the boys
+at Phillips Andover called an "old stager."
+
+"So you live with Jethro Bass," was Miss Cassandra's next remark. "He's
+rich enough to take you round the state and give you everything you
+want."
+
+"I have everything I want," replied Cynthia.
+
+"I shouldn't call living here having everything I wanted," declared Miss
+Hopkins, with a contemptuous glance at the tannery house.
+
+"I suppose you wouldn't," said Cynthia.
+
+Miss Hopkins was nettled.  She was out of humor that day, besides she
+shared some of her father's political ambition.  If he went to
+Washington, she went too.
+
+"Didn't you know Jethro Bass was rich?" she demanded, imprudently.  "Why,
+my father gave twenty thousand dollars to be governor, and Jethro Bass
+must have got half of it."
+
+Cynthia's eyes were of that peculiar gray which, lighted by love or
+anger, once seen, are never forgotten.  One hand was on the dashboard of
+the cutter, the other had seized the seat.  Her voice was steady, and the
+three words she spoke struck Miss Hopkins with startling effect.
+
+Miss Hopkins's breath was literally taken away, and for once she found no
+retort.  Let it be said for her that this was a new experience with a new
+creature.  A demure country girl turn into a wildcat before her very
+eyes!  Perhaps it was as well for both that the door of the house opened
+and the Honorable Alva interrupted their talk, and without so much as a
+glance at Cynthia he got hurriedly into the sleigh and drove off.  When
+Cynthia turned, the points of color still high in her cheeks and the
+light still ablaze in her eyes, she surprised Jethro gazing at her from
+the porch, and some sorrow she felt rather than beheld stopped the
+confession on her lips.  It would be unworthy of her even to repeat such
+slander, and the color surged again into her face for very shame of her
+anger.  Cassandra Hopkins had not been worthy of it.
+
+Jethro did not speak, but slipped his hand into hers, and thus they stood
+for a long time gazing at the snow fields between the pines on the
+heights of Coniston.
+
+The next summer, was the first which the painter--pioneer of summer
+visitors there--spent at Coniston.  He was an unsuccessful painter, who
+became, by a process which he himself does not to-day completely
+understand, a successful writer of novels.  As a character, however, he
+himself confesses his inadequacy, and the chief interest in him for the
+readers of this narrative is that he fell deeply in love with Cynthia
+Wetherell at nineteen.  It is fair to mention in passing that other young
+men were in love with Cynthia at this time, notably Eben Hatch--history
+repeating itself.  Once, in a moment of madness, Eben confessed his love,
+the painter never did: and he has to this day a delicious memory which
+has made Cynthia the heroine of many of his stories.  He boarded with
+Chester Perkins, and he was humored by the village as a harmless but
+amiable lunatic.
+
+The painter had never conceived that a New England conscience and a
+temper of no mean proportions could dwell together in the body of a wood
+nymph.  When he had first seen Cynthia among the willows by Coniston
+Water, he had thought her a wood nymph.  But she scolded him for his
+impropriety with so unerring a choice of words that he fell in love with
+her intellect, too.  He spent much of his time to the neglect of his
+canvases under the butternut tree in front of Jethro's house trying to
+persuade Cynthia to sit for her portrait; and if Jethro himself had not
+overheard one of these arguments, the portrait never would have been
+painted.  Jethro focussed a look upon the painter.
+
+"Er--painter-man, be you?  Paint Cynthy's picture?"
+
+"But I don't want to be painted, Uncle Jethro.  I won't be painted!"
+
+"H-how much for a good picture?  Er--only want the best--only want the
+best."
+
+The painter said a few things, with pardonable heat, to the effect--well,
+never mind the effect.  His remarks made no impression whatever upon
+Jethro.
+
+"Er---paint the picture--paint the picture, and then we'll talk about the
+price.  Er--wait a minute."
+
+He went into the house, and they heard him lumbering up the stairs.
+Cynthia sat with her back to the artist, pretending to read, but
+presently she turned to him.
+
+"I'll never forgive you--never, as long as I live," she cried, "and I
+won't be painted!"
+
+"N-not to please me, Cynthy?"  It was Jethro's voice.
+
+Her look softened.  She laid down the book and went up to him on the
+porch and put her hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Do you really want it so much as all that, Uncle Jethro?" she said.
+
+"Callate I do, Cynthy," he answered.  He held a bundle covered with
+newspaper in his hand, he looked down at Cynthia.
+
+He seated himself on the edge of the porch and for the moment seemed lost
+in revery.  Then he began slowly to unwrap the newspaper from the bundle:
+there were five layers of it, but at length he disclosed a bolt of
+cardinal cloth.
+
+"Call this to mind, Cynthy?"
+
+"Yes," she answered with a smile.
+
+"H-how's this for the dress, Mr. Painter-man?" said Jethro, with a pride
+that was ill-concealed.
+
+The painter started up from his seat and took the material in his hands
+and looked at Cynthia.  He belonged to a city club where he was popular
+for his knack of devising costumes, and a vision of Cynthia as the
+daughter of a Doge of Venice arose before his eyes.  Wonder of wonders,
+the daughter of a Doge discovered in a New England hill village!  The
+painter seized his pad and pencil and with a few strokes, guided by
+inspiration, sketched the costume then and there and held it up to
+Jethro, who blinked at it in astonishment.  But Jethro was suspicious of
+his own sensations.
+
+"Er--well--Godfrey--g-guess that'll do."  Then came the involuntary: "W-
+wouldn't a-thought you had it in you.  How about it, Cynthy?" and he held
+it up for her inspection.
+
+"If you are pleased, it's all I care about, Uncle Jethro," she answered,
+and then, her face suddenly flushing, "You must promise me on your honor
+that nobody in Coniston shall know about it, 'Mr. Painter-man'."
+
+After this she always called him "Mr. Painter-man,"--when she was pleased
+with him.
+
+So the cardinal cloth was come to its usefulness at last.  It was
+inevitable that Sukey Kittredge, the village seamstress, should be taken
+into confidence.  It was no small thing to take Sukey into confidence,
+for she was the legitimate successor in more ways than one of Speedy
+Bates, and much of Cynthia and the artist's ingenuity was spent upon
+devising a form of oath which would hold Sukey silent.  Sukey, however,
+got no small consolation from the sense of the greatness of the trust
+confided in her, and of the uproar she could make in Coniston if she
+chose.  The painter, to do him justice, was the real dressmaker, and did
+everything except cut the cloth and sew it together.  He sent to friends
+of his in the city for certain paste jewels and ornaments, and one day
+Cynthia stood in the old tannery shed--hastily transformed into a studio-
+-before a variously moved audience.  Sukey, having adjusted the last pin,
+became hysterical over her handiwork, Millicent Skinner stared
+openmouthed, words having failed her for once, and Jethro thrust his
+hands in his pockets in a quiet ecstasy of approbation.
+
+"A-always had a notion that cloth'd set you off, Cynthy," said he, "er--
+next time I go to the state capital you come along--g-guess it'll
+surprise 'em some."
+
+"I guess it would, Uncle Jethro," said Cynthia, laughing.
+
+Jethro postponed two political trips of no small importance to be present
+at the painting of that picture, and he would sit silently by the hour in
+a corner of the shed watching every stroke of the brush.  Never stood
+Doge's daughter in her jewels and seed pearls amidst stranger
+surroundings,--the beam, and the centre post around which the old white
+horse had toiled in times gone by, and all the piled-up, disused
+machinery of forgotten days.  And never was Venetian lady more
+unconscious of her environment than Cynthia.
+
+The portrait was of the head and shoulders alone, and when he had given
+it the last touch, the painter knew that, for once in his life, he had
+done a good thing.  Never before; perhaps, had the fire of such
+inspiration been given him.  Jethro, who expressed himself in terms (for
+him) of great enthusiasm, was for going to Boston immediately to purchase
+a frame commensurate with the importance of such a work of art, but the
+artist had his own views on that subject and sent to New York for this
+also.
+
+The day after the completion of the picture a rugged figure in rawhide
+boots and coonskin cap approached Chester Perkins's house, knocked at the
+door, and inquired for the "Painter-man."  It was Jethro.  The "Painter-
+man" forthwith went out into the rain behind the shed, where a somewhat
+curious colloquy took place.
+
+"G-guess I'm willin' to pay you full as much as it's worth," said Jethro,
+producing a cowhide wallet.  "Er--what figure do you allow it comes to
+with the frame?"
+
+The artist was past taking offence, since Jethro had long ago become for
+him an engrossing study.
+
+"I will send you the bill for the frame, Mr. Bass," he said, "the picture
+belongs to Cynthia."
+
+"Earn your livin' by paintin', don't you--earn your livin'?"
+
+The painter smiled a little bitterly.
+
+"No," he said, "if I did, I shouldn't be--alive.  Mr. Bass, have you ever
+done anything the pleasure of doing which was pay enough, and to spare?"
+
+Jethro looked at him, and something very like admiration came into the
+face that was normally expressionless.
+
+He put up his wallet a little awkwardly, and held out his hand more
+awkwardly.
+
+"You be more of a feller than I thought for," he said, and strode off
+through the drizzle toward Coniston.  The painter walked slowly to the
+kitchen, where Chester Perkins and his wife were sitting down to supper.
+
+"Jethro got a mortgage on you, too?" asked Chester.
+
+The artist had his reward, for when the picture was hung at length in the
+little parlor of the tannery house it became a source of pride to
+Coniston second only to Jethro himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+Time passes, and the engines of the Truro Railroad are now puffing in and
+out of the yards of Worthington's mills in Brampton, and a fine layer of
+dust covers the old green stage which has worn the road for so many years
+over Truro Gap.  If you are ever in Brampton, you can still see the
+stage, if you care to go into the back of what was once Jim Sanborn's
+livery stable, now owned by Mr. Sherman of the Brampton House.
+
+Conventions and elections had come and gone, and the Honorable Heth
+Sutton had departed triumphantly to Washington, cheered by his neighbors
+in Clovelly.  Chamberlain Bixby was left in charge there, supreme.  Who
+could be more desirable as a member of Congress than Mr. Sutton, who had
+so ably served his party (and Jethro) by holding the House against the
+insurgents in the matter of the Truro Bill?  Mr. Sutton was, moreover, a
+gentleman, an owner of cattle and land, a man of substance whom lesser
+men were proud to mention as a friend--a very hill-Rajah with stock in
+railroads and other enterprises, who owed allegiance and paid tribute
+alone to the Great Man of Coniston.
+
+Mr. Sutton was one who would make himself felt even in the capital of the
+United States--felt and heard.  And he had not been long in the Halls of
+Congress before he made a speech which rang under the very dome of the
+Capitol.  So said the Brampton and Harwich papers, at least, though
+rivals and detractors of Mr. Sutton declared that they could find no
+matter in it which related to the subject of a bill, but that is neither
+here nor there.  The oration began with a lengthy tribute to the
+resources and history of his state, and ended by a declaration that the
+speaker was in Congress at no man's bidding, but as the servant of the
+common people of his district.
+
+Under the lamp of the little parlor in the tannery house, Cynthia (who
+has now arrived at the very serious age of nineteen) was reading the
+papers to Jethro and came upon Mr. Sutton's speech.  There were four
+columns of it, but Jethro seemed to take delight in every word; and
+portions of the noblest parts of it, indeed, he had Cynthia read over
+again.  Sometimes, in the privacy of his home, Jethro was known to
+chuckle, and to Cynthia's surprise he chuckled more than usual that
+evening.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said at length, when she had laid the paper down, "I
+thought that you sent Mr. Sutton to Congress."
+
+Jethro leaned forward.
+
+"What put that into your head, Cynthy?" he asked.
+
+"Oh," answered the girl, "everybody says so,--Moses Hatch, Rias, and
+Cousin Eph.  Didn't you?"
+
+Jethro looked at her, as she thought, strangely.
+
+"You're too young to know anything about such things, Cynthy,"  he said,
+"too young."
+
+"But you make all the judges and senators and congressmen in the state, I
+know you do.  Why," exclaimed Cynthia, indignantly, "why does Mr. Sutton
+say the people elected him when he owes everything to you?"
+
+Jethro, arose abruptly and flung a piece of wood into the stove, and then
+he stood with his back to her.  Her instinct told her that he was
+suffering, though she could not fathom the cause, and she rose swiftly
+and drew him down into the chair beside her.
+
+"What is it?" she said anxiously.  "Have you got rheumatism, too, like
+Cousin Eph?  All old men seem to have rheumatism."
+
+"No, Cynthy, it hain't rheumatism," he managed to answer; "wimmen folks
+hadn't ought to mix up in politics.  They--they don't understand 'em,
+Cynthy."
+
+"But I shall understand them some day, because I am your daughter--now
+that--now that I have only you, I am your daughter, am I not?"
+
+"Yes, yes," he answered huskily, with his hand on her hair.
+
+"And I know more than most women now," continued Cynthia, triumphantly.
+"I'm going to be such a help to you soon--very soon.  I've read a lot of
+history, and I know some of the Constitution by heart.  I know why old
+Timothy Prescott fought in the Revolution--it was to get rid of kings,
+wasn't it, and to let the people have a chance?  The people can always be
+trusted to do what is right, can't they, Uncle Jethro?"
+
+Jethro was silent, but Cynthia did not seem to notice that.  After a
+space she spoke again:--
+ "I've been thinking it all out about you, Uncle Jethro."
+
+"A-about me?"
+
+"Yes, I know why you are able to send men to Congresa and make judges of
+them.  It's because the people have chosen you to do all that for them--
+you are so great and good."
+
+Jethro did not answer.
+
+Although the month was March, it was one of those wonderful still nights
+that sometimes come in the mountain-country when the wind is silent in
+the notches and the stars seem to burn nearer to the earth.  Cynthia
+awoke and lay staring for an instant at the red planet which hung over
+the black and ragged ridge, and then she arose quickly and knocked at the
+door across the passage.
+
+"Are you ill, Uncle Jethro?"
+
+"No," he answered, "no, Cynthy.  Go to bed.  Er--I was just thinkin'--
+thinkin', that's all, Cynthy."
+
+Though all his life he had eaten sparingly, Cynthia noticed that he
+scarcely touched his breakfast the next morning, and two hours later he
+went unexpectedly to the state capital.  That day, too, Coniston was
+clothed in clouds, and by afternoon a wild March snowstorm was sweeping
+down the face of the mountain, piling against doorways and blocking the
+roads.  Through the storm Cynthia fought her way to the harness shop, for
+Ephraim Prescott had taken to his bed, bound hand and foot by rheumatism.
+
+Much of that spring Ephraim was all but helpless, and Cynthia spent many
+days nursing him and reading to him.  Meanwhile the harness industry
+languished.  Cynthia and Ephraim knew, and Coniston guessed, that Jethro
+was taking care of Ephraim, and strong as was his affection for Jethro
+the old soldier found dependence hard to bear.  He never spoke of it to
+Cynthia, but he used to lie and dream through the spring days of what he
+might have done if the war had not crippled him.  For Ephraim Prescott,
+like his grandfather, was a man of action--a keen, intelligent American
+whose energy, under other circumstances, might have gone toward the
+making of the West.  Ephraim, furthermore, had certain principles which
+some in Coniston called cranks; for instance, he would never apply for a
+pension, though he could easily have obtained one.  Through all his
+troubles, he held grimly to the ideal which meant more to him than ease
+and comfort,--that he had served his country for the love of it.
+
+With the warm weather he was able to be about again, and occasionally to
+mend a harness, but Doctor Rowell shook his head when Jethro stopped his
+buggy in the road one day to inquire about Ephraim.  Whereupon Jethro
+went on to the harness shop.  The inspiration, by the way, had come from
+Cynthia.
+
+"Er--Ephraim, how'd you like to, be postmaster?  H-haven't any objections
+to that kind of a job, hev you?"
+
+"Why no," said Ephraim.  "We hain't agoin' to hev a post-office at
+Coniston--air we?"
+
+"H-how'd you like to be postmaster at Brampton?" demanded Jethro,
+abruptly.
+
+Ephraim dropped the trace he was shaving.
+
+"Postmaster at Brampton!" he exclaimed.
+
+"H-how'd you like it?" said Jethro again.
+
+"Well," said Ephraim, "I hain't got any objections."
+
+Jethro started out of the shop, but paused again at the door.
+
+"W-won't say nothin' about it, will you, Eph?" he inquired.
+
+"Not till I git it," answered Ephraim.  The sorrows of three years were
+suddenly lifted from his shoulders, and for an instant Ephraim wanted to
+dance until he remembered the rheumatism and the Wilderness leg. Suddenly a
+thought struck him, and he hobbled to the door and called out
+after Jethro's retreating figure.  Jethro returned.
+
+"Well?" he said, "well?"
+
+"What's the pay?" said Ephraim, in a whisper.
+
+Jethro named the sum instantly, also in a whisper.
+
+"You don't tell me!" said Ephraim, and sank stupefied into the chair in
+front of the shop, where lately he had spent so much of his time.
+
+Jethro chuckled twice on his way home: he chuckled twice again to
+Cynthia's delight at supper, and after supper he sent Millicent Skinner
+to find Jake Wheeler.  Jake as usual, was kicking his heels in front of
+the store, talking to Rias and others about the coming Fourth of July
+celebration at Brampton.  Brampton, as we know, was famous for its Fourth
+of July celebrations.  Not neglecting to let it be known that Jethro had
+sent for him, Jake hurried off through the summer twilight to the tannery
+house, bowed ceremoniously to Cynthia under the butternut tree, and
+discovered Jethro behind the shed.  It was usually Jethro's custom to
+allow the other man to begin the conversation, no matter how trivial the
+subject--a method which had commended itself to Mr. Bixby and other minor
+politicians who copied him.  And usually the other man played directly
+into Jethro's hands.  Jake Wheeler always did, and now, to cover the
+awkwardness of the silence, he began on the Brampton celebration.
+
+"They tell me Heth Sutton's a-goin' to make the address--seems prouder
+than ever sence he went to Congress.  I guess you'll tell him what to say
+when the time comes, Jethro."
+
+"Er--goin' to Clovelly after wool this week, Jake?"
+
+"I kin go to-morrow," said Jake, scenting an affair.
+
+"Er--goin' to Clovelly after wool this week, Jake?"
+
+Jake reflected.  He saw it was expedient that this errand should not
+smell of haste.
+
+"I was goin' to see Cutter on Friday," he answered.
+
+"Er--if you should happen to meet Heth--"
+
+"Yes," interrupted Jake.
+
+"If by chance you should happen to meet Heth, or Bije" (Jethro knew that
+Jake never went to Clovelly without a conference with one or the other of
+these personages, if only to be able to talk about it afterward at the
+store), "er--what would you say to 'em?"
+
+"Why," said Jake, scratching his head for the answer, "I'd tell him you
+was at Coniston."
+
+"Think we'll have rain, Jake?" inquired Jethro, blandly.
+
+Jake wended his way back to the store, filled with renewed admiration for
+the great man.  Jethro had given him no instructions whatever, could deny
+before a jury if need be that he had sent him (Jake) to Clovelly to tell
+Heth Sutton to come to Coniston for instructions on the occasion of his
+Brampton speech.  And Jake was filled with a mysterious importance when
+he took his seat once more in the conclave.
+
+Jake Wheeler, although in many respects a fool, was one of the most
+efficient pack of political hounds that the state has ever known.  By six
+o'clook on Friday morning he was descending a brook valley on the
+Clovelly side of the mountain, and by seven was driving between the
+forest and river meadows of the Rajah's domain, and had come in sight of
+the big white house with its somewhat pretentious bay-windows and Gothic
+doorway; it might be dubbed the palace of these parts.  The wide river
+flowed below it, and the pastures so wondrously green in the morning sun
+were dotted with fat cattle and sheep.  Jake was content to borrow a cut
+of tobacco from the superintendent and wonder aimlessly around the farm
+until Mr. Sutton's family prayers and breakfast were accomplished.  We
+shall not concern ourselves with the message or the somewhat lengthy
+manner in which it was delivered.  Jake had merely dropped in by
+accident, but the Rajah listened coldly while he picked his teeth, said
+he didn't know whether he was going to Brampton or not--hadn't decided;
+didn't know whether he could get to Coniston or not--his affairs were
+multitudinous now.  In short, he set Jake to thinking deeply as his horse
+walked up the western heights of Coniston on the return journey.  He had,
+let it be repeated, a sure instinct once his nose was fairly on the
+scent, and he was convinced that a war of great magnitude was in the air,
+and he; Jake Wheeler, was probably the first in all the elate to discover
+it!  His blood leaped at the thought.
+
+The hill-Rajah's defiance, boiled down, could only mean one thing,--that
+somebody with sufficient power and money was about to lock horns with
+Jethro Bass.  Not for a moment did Jake believe that, for all his pomp
+and circumstance, the Honorable Heth Sutton was a big enough man to do
+this.  Jake paid to the Honorable Heth all the outward respect that his
+high position demanded, but he knew the man through and through.  He
+thought of the Honorable Heth's reform speech in Congress, and laughed
+loudly in the echoing woods.  No, Mr. Sutton was not the man to lead a
+fight.  But to whom had he promised his allegiance?  This question
+puzzled Mr. Wheeler all the way home, and may it be said finally for many
+days thereafter.  He slid into Coniston in the dusk, big with impending
+events, which he could not fathom.  As to giving Jethro the careless
+answer of the hill-Rajah, that was  another matter.
+
+The Fourth of July came at last, nor was any contradiction made in the
+Brampton papers that the speech of the Honorable Heth Sutton had been
+cancelled.  Instead, advertisemeuts appeared in the 'Brampton Clarion'
+announcing the fact in large letters.  When Cynthia read this
+advertisement to Jethro, he chuckled again.  They were under the
+butternut tree, for the evenings were long now.
+
+"Will you take me to Brampton, Uncle Jethro?" said she, letting fall the
+paper on her lap.
+
+"W-who's to get in the hay?" said Jethro.
+
+"Hay on the Fourth of July!" exclaimed Cynthia, "why, that's--sacrilege!
+You'd much better come and hear Mr. Sutton's speech--it will do you good."
+
+Cynthia could see that Jethro was intensely amused, for his eyes had a
+way of snapping on such occasions when he was alone with her.  She was
+puzzled and slightly offended, because, to tell the truth, Jethro had
+spoiled her.
+
+"Very well, then," she said, "I'll go with the Painter-man."
+
+Jethro came and stood over her, his expression the least bit wistful.
+
+"Er--Cynthy," he said presently, "hain't fond of that Painter-man, be
+you?"
+
+"Why, yes," said Cynthia, "aren't you?"
+
+"He's fond of you," said Jethro, "sh-shouldn't be surprised if he was in
+love with you."
+
+Cynthia looked up at him, the corners of her mouth twitching, and then
+she laughed.  The Rev. Mr. Satterlee, writing his Sunday sermon in his
+study, heard her and laid down his pen to listen.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," said Cynthia, "sometimes I forget that you're a great,
+wise man, and I think that you are just a silly old goose."
+
+Jethro wiped his face with his blue cotton handkerchief.
+
+"Then you hain't a-goin' to marry the Painter-man?" he said.
+
+"I'm not going to marry anybody," cried Cynthia, contritely; "I'm going
+to live with you and take care of you all my life."
+
+On the morning of the Fourth, Cynthia drove to Brampton with the Painter-
+man, and when he perceived that she was dreaming, he ceased to worry her
+with his talk.  He liked her dreaming, and stole many glances at her face
+of which she knew nothing at all.  Through the cool and fragrant woods,
+past the mill-pond stained blue and white by the sky, and scented clover
+fields and wayside flowers nodding in the morning air--Cynthia saw these
+things in the memory of another journey to Brampton.  On that Fourth her
+father had been with her, and Jethro and Ephraim and Moses and Amanda
+Hatch and the children.  And how well she recalled, too, standing amidst
+the curious crowd before the great house which Mr. Worthington had just
+built.
+
+There are weeks and months, perhaps, when we do not think of people, when
+our lives are full and vigorous, and then perchance a memory will bring
+them vividly before us--so vividly that we yearn for them.  There rose
+before Cynthia now the vision of a boy as he stood on the Gothic porch of
+the house, and how he had come down to the wondering country people with
+his smile and his merry greeting, and how he had cajoled her into
+lingering in front of the meeting-house.  Had he forgotten her?  With
+just a suspicion of a twinge, Cynthia remembered that Janet Duncan she
+had seen at the capital, whom she had been told was the heiress of the
+state.  When he had graduated from Harvard, Bob would, of course, marry
+her.  That was in the nature of things.
+
+To some the great event of that day in Brampton was to be the speech of
+the Honorable Heth Sutton in the meeting-house at eleven; others (and
+this party was quite as numerous) had looked forward to the base-ball
+game between Brampton and Harwich in the afternoon.  The painter would
+have preferred to walk up meeting-house hill with Cynthia, and from the
+cool heights look down upon the amphitheatre in which the town was built.
+But Cynthia was interested in history, and they went to the meeting-house
+accordingly, where she listened for an hour and a half to the patriotic
+eloquence of the representative.  The painter was glad to see and hear so
+great a man in the hour of his glory, though so much as a fragment of the
+oration does not now remain in his memory.  In size, in figure, in
+expression, in the sonorous tones of his voice, Mr. Sutton was everything
+that a congressman should be.  "The people," said Isaac D. Worthington in
+presenting him, "should indeed be proud of such an able and high-minded
+representative."  We shall have cause to recall that word high-minded.
+
+Many persons greeted Cynthia outside the meetinghouse, for the girl
+seemed genuinely loved by all who knew her--too much loved, her companion
+thought, by certain spick-and-span young men of Brampton.  But they ate
+the lunch Cynthia had brought, far from the crowd, under the trees by
+Coniston Water.  It was she who proposed going to the base-ball game, and
+the painter stifled a sigh and acquiesced.  Their way brought them down
+Brampton Street, past a house with great iron dogs on the lawn, so
+imposing and cityfied that he hung back and asked who lived there.
+
+"Mr. Worthington," answered Cynthia, making to move on impatiently.
+
+Her escort did not think much of the house, but it interested him as the
+type which Mr. Worthington had built.  On that same Gothic porch,
+sublimely unconscious of the covert stares and subdued comments of the
+passers-by, the first citizen himself and the Honorable Heth Sutton might
+be seen.  Mr. Worthington, whose hawklike look had become more
+pronounced, sat upright, while the Honorable Heth, his legs crossed,
+filled every nook and cranny of an arm-chair, and an occasional fragrant
+whiff from his cigar floated out to those on the tar sidewalk.  Although
+the pedestrians were but twenty feet away, what Mr. Worthington said
+never reached them; but the Honorable Heth on public days carried his
+voice of the Forum around with him.
+
+"Come on," said Cynthia, in one of those startling little tempers she was
+subject to; "don't stand there like an idiot."
+
+Then the voice of Mr. Sutton boomed toward them.
+
+"As I understand, Worthington," they heard him say, "you want me to
+appoint young Wheelock for the Brampton post-office."  He stuck his thumb
+into his vest pocket and recrossed his legs "I guess it can be arranged."
+
+When the painter at last overtook Cynthia the jewel paints he had so
+often longed to catch upon a canvas were in her eyes.  He fell back,
+wondering how he could so greatly have offended, when she put her hand on
+his sleeve.
+
+"Did you hear what he said about the Brampton postoffice?" she cried.
+
+"The Brampton post-office?" he repeated; dazed.
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia; "Uncle Jethro has promised it to Cousin Ephraim, who
+will starve without it.  Did you hear this man say he would give it to
+Mr. Wheelock?"
+
+Here was a new Cynthia, aflame with emotions on a question of politics of
+which he knew nothing.  He did, understand, however, her concern for
+Ephraim Prescott, for he knew that she loved the soldier.  She turned
+from the painter now with a gesture which he took to mean that his
+profession debarred him from such vital subjects, and she led the way to
+the fair-grounds.  There he meekly bought tickets, and they found
+themselves hurried along in the eager crowd toward the stand.
+
+The girl was still unaccountably angry over that mysterious affair of the
+post-office, and sat with flushed cheeks staring out on the green field,
+past the line of buggies and carryalls on the farther side to the
+southern shoulder of Coniston towering, above them all.  The painter,
+already, beginning to love his New England folk, listened to the homely
+chatter about him, until suddenly a cheer starting in one corner ran like
+a flash of gunpowder around the field, and eighteen young men trotted
+across the turf.  Although he was not a devotee of sport, he noticed that
+nine of these, as they took their places on the bench, wore  blue,--the
+Harwich Champions.  Seven only of those scattering over the field wore
+white; two young gentlemen, one at second base and the other behind the
+batter, wore gray uniforms with crimson stockings, and crimson piping on
+the caps, and a crimson H embroidered on the breast--a sight that made
+the painter's heart beat a little faster, the honored livery of his own
+college.
+
+"What are those two Harvard men doing here?" he asked.
+
+Cynthia, who was leaning forward, started, and turned to him a face which
+showed him that his question had been meaningless.  He repeated it.
+
+"Oh," said she, "the tall one, burned brick-red like an Indian, is Bob
+Worthington."
+
+"He's a good type," the artist remarked.
+
+"You're right, Mister, there hain't a finer young feller anywhere,"
+chimed in Mr. Dodd, a portly person with a tuft of yellow beard on his
+chin.  Mr. Dodd kept the hardware store in Brampton.
+
+"And who," asked the painter, "is the bullet-headed little fellow, with
+freckles and short red hair, behind the bat?"
+
+"I don't know," said Cynthia, indifferently.
+
+"Why," exclaimed Mr. Dodd, with just a trace of awe in his voice, "that's
+Somers Duncan, son of Millionnaire Duncan down to the capital.  I guess,"
+he added, "I guess them two will be the richest men in the state some
+day.  Duncan come up from Harvard with Bob."
+
+In a few minutes the game was in full swing, Brampton against Harwich,
+the old rivalry in another form.  Every advantage on either side awoke
+thundering cheers from the partisans; beribboned young women sprang to
+their feet and waved the Harwich blue at a home run, and were on the
+verge of tears when the Brampton pitcher struck out their best batsman.
+But beyond the facts that the tide was turning in Brampton's favor; that
+young Mr. Worthington stopped a ball flying at a phenomenal speed and
+batted another at a still more phenomenal speed which was not stopped;
+that his name and Duncan's were mingled generously in the cheering, the
+painter remembered little of the game.  The exhibition of human passions
+which the sight of it drew from an undemonstrative race: the shouting,
+the comments wrung from hardy spirits off their guard, the joy and the
+sorrow,--such things interested him more.  High above the turmoil
+Coniston, as through the ages, looked down upon the scene impassive.
+
+He was aroused from these reflections by an incident.  Some one had
+leaped over the railing which separated the stand from the field and
+stood before Cynthia,--a tanned and smiling young man in gray and
+crimson.  His honest eyes were alight with an admiration that was
+unmistakable to the painter--perhaps to Cynthia also, for a glow that
+might have been of annoyance or anger, and yet was like the color of the
+mountain sunrise, answered in her cheek.  Mr. Worthington reached out a
+large brown hand and seized the girl's as it lay on her lap.
+
+"Hello, Cynthia," he cried, "I've been looking for you all day.  I
+thought you might be here.  Where were you?"
+
+"Where did you look?" answered Cynthia, composedly, withdrawing her hand.
+
+"Everywhere," said Bob, "up and down the street, all through the hotel.
+I asked Lem Hallowell, and he didn't know where you were.  I only got
+here last night myself."
+
+"I was in the meeting-house," said Cynthia.
+
+"The meeting-house!" he echoed.  "You don't mean to tell me that you
+listened to that silly speech of Sutton's?"
+
+This remark, delivered in all earnestness, was the signal for uproarious
+laughter from Mr. Dodd and others sitting near by, attending earnestly to
+the conversation.
+
+Cynthia bit her lip.
+
+"Yes, I did," she said; "but I'm sorry now."
+
+"I should think you would be," said Bob; "Sutton's a silly, pompous old
+fool.  I had to sit through dinner with him.  I believe I could represent
+the district better myself."
+
+"By gosh!" exploded Mr. Dodd, "I believe you could!"
+
+But Bob paid no attention to him.  He was looking at Cynthia.
+
+"Cynthia, you've grown up since I saw you," he said.  "How's Uncle
+Jethro.
+
+"He's well--thanks," said Cynthia, and now she was striving to put down a
+smile.
+
+"Still running the state?" said Bob.  "You tell him I think he ought to
+muzzle Sutton.  What did he send him down to Washington for?"
+
+"I don't know," said Cynthia.
+
+"What are you going to do after the game?" Bob demanded.
+
+"I'm going home of course," said Cynthia.
+
+His face fell.
+
+"Can't you come to the house for supper and stay for the fireworks?" he
+begged pleadingly.  "We'd be mighty glad to have your friend, too."
+
+Cynthia introduced her escort.
+
+"It's very good of you, Bob," she said, with that New England demureness
+which at times became her so well, "but we couldn't possibly do it.  And
+then I don't like Mr. Sutton."
+
+"Oh, hang him!" exclaimed Bob.  He took a step nearer to her.  "Won't you
+stay this once?  I have to go West in the morning."
+
+"I think you are very lucky," said Cynthia.
+
+Bob scanned her face searchingly, and his own fell.
+
+"Lucky!" he cried, "I think it's the worst thing that ever happened to
+me.  My father's so hard-headed when he gets his mind set--he's making me
+do it.  He wants me to see the railroads and the country, so I've got to
+go with the Duncans.  I wanted to stay--" He checked himself, "I think
+it's a blamed nuisance."
+
+"So do I," said a voice behind him.
+
+It was not the first time that Mr. Somers Duncan had spoken, but Bob
+either had not heard him or pretended not to.  Mr. Duncan's freckled face
+smiled at them from the top of the railing, his eyes were on Cynthia's
+face, and he had been listening eagerly.  Mr. Duncan's chief
+characteristic, beyond his freckles, was his eagerness--a quality
+probably amounting to keenness.
+
+"Hello," said Bob, turning impatiently, "I might have known you couldn't
+keep away.  You're the cause of all my troubles--you and your father's
+private car."
+
+Somers became apologetic.
+
+"It isn't my fault," he said; "I'm sure I hate going as much as you do.
+It's spoiled my summer, too."
+
+Then he coughed and looked at Cynthia.
+
+"Well," said Bob, "I suppose I'll have to introduce you.  This," he
+added, dragging his friend over the railing, "is Mr. Somers Duncan."
+
+"I'm awfully glad to meet you, Miss. Wetherell," said Somers, fervently;
+"to tell you the truth, I thought he was just making up yarns."
+
+"Yarns?" repeated Cynthia, with a look that set Mr. Duncan floundering.
+
+"Why, yes," he stammered.  "Worthy said that you were up here, but I
+thought he was crazy the way he talked--I didn't think--"
+
+"Think what?" inquired Cynthia, but she flushed a little.
+
+"Oh, rot, Somers!" said Bob, blushing furiously under his tan; "you ought
+never to go near a woman--you're the darndest fool with 'em I ever saw."
+
+This time even the painter laughed outright, and yet he was a little
+sorrowful, too, because he could not be even as these youths.  But
+Cynthia sat serene, the eternal feminine of all the ages, and it is no
+wonder that Bob Worthington was baffled as he looked at her.  He lapsed
+into an awkwardness quite as bad as that of his friend.
+
+"I hope you enjoyed the game," he said at last, with a formality that was
+not at all characteristic.
+
+Cynthia did not seem to think it worth while to answer this, so the
+painter tried to help him out.
+
+"That was a fine stop you made, Mr. Worthington," he said; "wasn't it,
+Cynthia?"
+
+"Everybody seemed to think so," answered Cynthia, cruelly; "but if I were
+a man and had hands like that" (Bob thrust them in his pockets), "I
+believe I could stop a ball, too."
+
+Somers laughed uproariously.
+
+"Good-by," said Bob, with uneasy abruptness, "I've got to go into the
+field now.  When can I see you?"
+
+"When you get back from the West--perhaps," said Cynthia.
+
+"Oh," cried Bob (they were calling him), "I must see you to-night!"  He
+vaulted over the railing and turned.  "I'll come back here right after
+the game," he said; "there's only one more inning."
+
+"We'll come back right after the game," repeated Mr. Duncan.
+
+Bob shot one look at him,--of which Mr. Duncan seemed blissfully
+unconscious,--and stalked off abruptly to second base.
+
+The artist sat pensive for a few moments, wondering at the ways of women,
+his sympathies unaccountably enlisted in behalf of Mr. Worthington.
+
+"Weren't you a little hard on him?" he said.
+
+For answer Cynthia got to her feet.
+
+"I think we ought to be going home," she said.
+
+"Going home!" he ejaculated in amazement.
+
+"I promised Uncle Jethro I'd be there for supper," and she led the way
+out of the grand stand.
+
+So they drove back to Coniston through the level evening light, and when
+they came to Ephraim Prescott's harness shop the old soldier waved at
+them cheerily from under the big flag which he had hung out in honor of
+the day.  The flag was silk, and incidentally Ephraim's most valued
+possession.  Then they drew up before the tannery house, and Cynthia
+leaped out of the buggy and held out her hand to the painter with a
+smile.
+
+"It was very good of you to take me," she said.
+
+Jethro Bass, rugged, uncouth, in rawhide boots and swallowtail and
+coonskin cap, came down from the porch to welcome her, and she ran toward
+him with an eagerness that started the painter to wondering afresh over
+the contrasts of life.  What, he asked himself, had Fate in store for
+Cynthia Wetherell?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+"H-have a good time, Cynthy?" said Jethro, looking down into her face.
+Love had wrought changes in Jethro; mightier changes than he suspected,
+and the girl did not know how zealous were the sentries of that love, how
+watchful they were, and how they told him often and again whether her
+heart, too, was smiling.
+
+"It was very gay," said Cynthia.
+
+"P-painter-man gay?" inquired Jethro.
+
+Cynthia's eyes were on the orange line of the sunset over Coniston, but
+she laughed a little, indulgently.
+
+"Cynthy?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Er--that Painter-man hain't such a bad fellow--w-why didn't you ask him
+in to supper?"
+
+"I'll give you three guesses," said Cynthia, but she did not wait for
+them.  "It was because I wanted to be alone with you.  Milly's gone out,
+hasn't she?"
+
+"G-gone a-courtin'," said Jethro.
+
+She smiled, and went into the house to see whether Milly had done her
+duty before she left.  It was characteristic of Cynthia not to have
+mentioned the subject which was agitating her mind until they were seated
+on opposite sides of the basswood table.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I thought you told Mr. Sutton to give Cousin
+Eph the Brampton post-office?  Do you trust Mr. Sutton?"  she demanded
+abruptly.
+
+"Er--why?" said Jethro.  "Why?"
+
+"Because I don't," she answered with conviction; "I think he's a big
+fraud.  He must have deceived you, Uncle Jethro.  I can't see why you
+ever sent him to Congress."
+
+Although Jethro was in no mood for mirth, he laughed in spite of himself,
+for he was an American.  His lifelong habit would have made him defend
+Heth to any one but Cynthia.
+
+"'D you see Heth, Cynthy?" he asked.
+  "Yes," replied the girl, disgustedly, "I should say I did, but not to
+speak to him.  He was sitting on Mr. Worthington's porch, and I heard him
+tell Mr. Worthington he would give the Brampton post-office to Dave
+Wheelock.  I don't want you to think that I was eavesdropping," she added
+quickly; "I couldn't help hearing it."
+
+Jethro did not answer.
+
+"You'll make him give the post-office to Cousin Eph, won't you, Uncle
+Jethro?"
+
+"Yes;" said Jethro, very simply, "I will."  He meditated awhile, and then
+said suddenly, "W-won't speak about it--will you, Cynthy?"
+
+"You know I won't," she answered.
+
+Let it not be thought by any chance that Coniston was given over to
+revelry and late hours, even on the Fourth of July.  By ten o'clock the
+lights were out in the tannery house, but Cynthia was not asleep.  She
+sat at her window watching the shy moon peeping over Coniston ridge, and
+she was thinking, to be exact, of how much could happen in one short day
+and how little in a long month.  She was aroused by the sound of wheels
+and the soft beat of a horse's hoofs on the dirt road: then came stifled
+laughter, and suddenly she sprang up alert and tingling.  Her own name
+came floating to her through the darkness.
+
+The next thing that happened will be long remembered in Coniston.  A
+tentative chord or two from a guitar, and then the startled village was
+listening with all its might to the voices of two young men singing "When
+I first went up to Harvard"--probably meant to disclose the identity of
+the serenaders, as if that were necessary!  Coniston, never having
+listened to grand opera, was entertained and thrilled, and thought the
+rendering of the song better on the whole than the church choir could
+have done it, or even the quartette that sung at the Brampton
+celebrations behind the flowers.  Cynthia had her own views on the
+subject.
+
+There were five other songs--Cynthia remembers all of them, although she
+would not confess such a thing.  "Naughty, naughty Clara," was another
+one; the other three were almost wholly about love, some treating it
+flippantly, others seriously--this applied to the last one, which had
+many farewells in it.  Then they went away, and the crickets and frogs on
+Coniston Water took up the refrain.
+
+Although the occurrence was unusual,--it might almost be said epoch-
+making,--Jethro did not speak of it until they had reached the sparkling
+heights of Thousand Acre Hill the next morning.  Even then he did not
+look at Cynthia.
+
+"Know who that was last night, Cynthy?" he inquired, as though the matter
+were a casual one.
+
+"I believe," said Cynthia heroically, "I believe it was a boy named
+Somers Duncan-and Bob Worthington."
+
+"Er--Bob Worthington," repeated Jethro, but said nothing more.
+
+Of course Coniston, and presently Brampton, knew that Bob Worthington had
+serenaded Cynthia--and Coniston and Brampton talked.  It is noteworthy
+that (with the jocular exceptions of Ephraim and Lem Hallowell) they did
+not talk to the girl herself.  The painter had long ago discovered that
+Cynthia was an individual.  She had good blood in her: as a mere child
+she had shouldered the responsibility of her father; she had a natural
+aptitude for books--a quality reverenced in the community; she visited,
+as a matter of habit; the sick and the unfortunate; and lastly (perhaps
+the crowning achievement) she had bound Jethro Bass, of all men, with the
+fetters of love.  Of course I have ended up by making her a paragon,
+although I am merely stating what people thought of her.  Coniston
+decided at once that she was to marry the heir to the Brampton Mills.
+
+But the heir had gone West, and as the summer wore on, the gossip died
+down.  Other and more absorbing gossip took its place: never distinctly
+formulated, but whispered; always wishing for more definite news that
+never came.  The statesmen drove out from Brampton to the door of the
+tannery house, as usual, only it was remarked by astute observers and
+Jake Wheeler that certain statesmen did not come who had been in the
+habit of coming formerly.  In short, those who made it a custom to
+observe such matters felt vaguely a disturbance of some kind.  The organs
+of the people felt it, and became more guarded in their statements.  What
+no one knew, except Jake and a few in high places, was that a war of no
+mean magnitude was impending.
+
+There were three men in the State--and perhaps only three--who realized
+from the first that all former political combats would pale in comparison
+to this one to come.  Similar wars had already started in other states,
+and when at length they were fought out another twist had been given to
+the tail of a long-suffering Constitution; political history in the
+United States had to be written from an entirely new and unforeseen
+standpoint, and the unsuspecting people had changed masters.
+
+This was to be a war of extermination of one side or the other.  No
+quarter would be given or asked, and every weapon hitherto known to
+politics would be used.  Of the three men who realized this, and all that
+would happen if one side or the other were victorious, one was Alexander
+Duncan, another Isaac D.  Worthington, and the third was Jethro Bass.
+
+Jethro would never have been capable of being master of the state had he
+not foreseen the time when the railroads, tired of paying tribute, would
+turn and try to exterminate the boss.  The really astonishing thing about
+Jethro's foresight (known to few only) was that he perceived clearly that
+the time would come when the railroads and other aggregations of capital
+would exterminate the boss, or at least subserviate him.  This alone, the
+writer thinks, gives him some right to greatness.  And Jethro Bass made
+up his mind that the victory of the railroads, in his state at least,
+should not come in his day.  He would hold and keep what he had fought
+all his life to gain.
+
+Jethro knew, when Jake Wheeler failed to bring him a message back from
+Clovelly, that the war had begun, and that Isaac D.  Worthington,
+commander of the railroad forces in the field, had captured his pawn,
+the hill-Rajah.  By getting through to Harwich, the Truro had made a sad
+muddle in railroad affairs.  It was now a connecting link; and its
+president, the first citizen of Brampton, a man of no small importance
+in the state.  This fact was not lost upon Jethro, who perceived clearly
+enough the fight for consolidation that was coming in the next
+Legislature.
+
+Seated on an old haystack on Thousand Acre Hill, that sits in turn on the
+lap of Coniston, Jethro smiled as he reflected that the first trial of
+strength in this mighty struggle was to be over (what the unsuspecting
+world would deem a trivial matter) the postmastership of Brampton.  And
+Worthington's first move in the game would be to attempt to capture for
+his faction the support of the Administration itself.
+
+Jethro thought the view from Thousand Acre Hill, especially in September,
+to be one of the sublimest efforts of the Creator.  It was September,
+first of the purple months in Coniston, not the red-purple of the Maine
+coast, but the blue-purple of the mountain, the color of the bloom on the
+Concord grape.  His eyes, sweeping the mountain from the notch to the
+granite ramp of the northern buttress, fell on the weather-beaten little
+farmhouse in which he had lived for many years, and rested lovingly on
+the orchard, where the golden early apples shone among the leaves.  But
+Jethro was not looking at the apples.
+
+"Cynthy," he called out abruptly, "h-how'd you like to go to Washington?"
+
+"Washington!" exclaimed Cynthia.  "When?"
+
+"N-now--to-morrow."  Then he added uneasily, "C-can't you get ready?"
+
+Cynthia laughed.
+
+"Why, I'll go to-night, Uncle Jethro," she answered.
+
+"Well," he said admiringly, "you hain't one of them clutterin' females.
+We can get some finery for you in New York, Cynthy.  D-don't want any of
+them town ladies to put you to shame.  Er--not that they would," he added
+hastily--"not that they would."
+
+Cynthia climbed up beside him on the haystack.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said solemnly, "when you make a senator or a judge,
+I don't interfere, do I?"
+
+He looked at her uneasily, for there were moments when he could not for
+the life of him make out her drift.
+
+"N-no," he assented, "of course not, Cynthy."
+
+"Why is it that I don't interfere?"
+
+"I callate," answered Jethro, still more uneasily, "I callate it's
+because you're a woman."
+
+"And don't you think," asked Cynthia, "that a woman ought to know what
+becomes her best?"
+
+Jethro reflected, and then his glance fell on her approvingly.
+
+"G-guess you're right, Cynthy," he said.  "I always had some success in
+dressin' up Listy, and that kind of set me up."
+
+On such occasions he spoke of his wife quite simply.  He had been
+genuinely fond of her, although she was no more than an episode in his
+life.  Cynthia smiled to herself as they walked through the orchard to
+the place where the horse was tied, but she was a little remorseful. This
+feeling, on the drive homeward, was swept away by sheer elation at
+the prospect of the trip before her.  She had often dreamed of the great
+world beyond Coniston, and no one, not even Jethro, had guessed the
+longings to see it which had at times beset her.  Often she had dropped
+her book to summon up a picture of what a great city was like, to
+reconstruct the Boston of her early childhood.  She remembered the Mall,
+where she used to walk with her father, and the row of houses where the
+rich dwelt, which had seemed like palaces.  Indeed, when she read of
+palaces, these houses always came to her mind.  And now she was to behold
+a palace even greater than these,--and the house where the President
+himself dwelt.  But why was Jethro going to Washington?
+
+As if in answer to the question, he drove directly to the harness shop
+instead of to the tannery house.  Ephraim greeted them from within with a
+cheery hail, and hobbled out and stood between the wheels of the buggy.
+
+"That bridle bust again?" he inquired.
+
+"Er--Ephraim," said Jethro, "how long since you b'en away from Coniston--
+how long?"
+
+Ephraim reflected.
+
+"I went to Harwich with Moses before that bad spell I had in March," he
+answered.
+
+Cynthia smiled from pure happiness, for she began to see the drift of
+things now.
+
+"H-how long since you've b'en in foreign parts?" said Jethro.
+
+"'Sixty-five," answered Ephraim, with astonishing promptness.
+
+"Er--like to go to Washington with us to-morrow like to go to
+Washington?"
+
+Ephraim gasped, even as Cynthia had.
+
+"Washin'ton!" he ejaculated.
+
+"Cynthy and I was thinkin' of takin' a little trip," said Jethro, almost
+apologetically, "and we kind of thought we'd like to have you with us.
+Didn't we, Cynthy?  Er--we might see General Grant," he added meaningly.
+
+Ephraim was a New Englander, and not an adept in expressing his emotions.
+Both Cynthia and Jethro felt that he would have liked to have said
+something appropriate if he had known how.  What he actually said was:--
+"What time to-morrow?"
+
+"C-callate to take the nine o'clock from Brampton," said Jethro.
+
+"I'll report for duty at seven," said Ephraim, and it was then he
+squeezed the hand that he found in his.  He watched them calmly enough
+until they had disappeared in the barn behind the tannery.  house, and
+then his thoughts became riotous.  Rumors had been rife that summer,
+prophecies of changes to come, and the resignation of the old man who had
+so long been postmaster at Brampton was freely discussed--or rather the
+matter of his successor.  As the months passed, Ephraim had heard David
+Wheelock mentioned with more and more assurance for the place.  He had
+had many nights when sleep failed him, but it was characteristic of the
+old soldier that he had never once broached the subject since Jethro had
+spoken to him two months before.  Ephraim had even looked up the law to
+see if he was eligible, and found that he was, since Coniston had no
+post-office, and was within the limits of delivery of the Brampton
+office.
+
+The next morning Coniston was treated to a genuine surprise.  After
+loading up at the store, Lem Hallowell, instead of heading for Brampton,
+drove to the tannery house, left his horses standing as he ran in, and
+presently emerged with a little cowhide trunk that bore the letter W.
+Following the trunk came a radiant Cynthia, following Cynthia, Jethro
+Bass in a stove-pipe hat, with a carpetbag, and hobbling after Jethro,
+Ephraim Prescott, with another carpet-bag.  It was remarked in the buzz
+of query that followed the stage's departure that Ephraim wore the blue
+suit and the army hat with a cord around it which he kept for occasions.
+Coniston longed to follow them, in spirit at least, but even Milly
+Skinner did not know their destination.
+
+Fortunately we can follow them.  At Brampton station they got into the
+little train that had just come over Truro Pass, and steamed, with many
+stops, down the valley of Coniston Water until it stretched out into a
+wide range of shimmering green meadows guarded by blue hills veiled in
+the morning haze.  Then, bustling Harwich, and a wait of half an hour
+until the express from the north country came thundering through the Gap;
+then a five-hours' journey down the broad river that runs southward
+between the hills, dinner in a huge station amidst a pleasant buzz of
+excitement and the ringing of many bells.  Then into another train,
+through valleys and factory towns and cities until they came, at
+nightfall, to the metropolis itself.
+
+Cynthia will always remember the awe with which that first view of New
+York inspired her, and Ephraim confessed that he, too, had felt it, when
+he had first seen the myriad lights of the city after the long, dusty
+ride from the hills with his regiment.  For all the flags and bunting it
+had held in '61, Ephraim thought that city crueller than war itself.  And
+Cynthia thought so too, as she clung to Jethro's arm between the
+carriages and the clanging street-cars, and looked upon the riches and
+poverty around her.  There entered her soul that night a sense of that
+which is the worst cruelty of all--the cruelty of selfishness.  Every man
+going his own pace, seeking to gratify his own aims and desires,
+unconscious and heedless of the want with which he rubs elbows.  Her
+natural imagination enhanced by her life among the hills, the girl
+peopled the place in the street lights with all kinds of strange evil-
+doers of whose sins she knew nothing, adventurers, charlatans, alert
+cormorants, who preyed upon the unwary.  She shrank closer to Ephraim
+from a perfumed lady who sat next to her in the car, and was thankful
+when at last they found themselves in the corridor of the Astor House
+standing before the desk.
+
+Hotel clerks, especially city ones, are supernatural persons.  This one
+knew Jethro, greeted him deferentially as Judge Bass, and dipped the pen
+in the ink and handed it to him that he might register.  By half-past
+nine Cynthia was dreaming of Lem Hallowell and Coniston, and Lem was
+driving a yellow street-car full of queer people down the road to
+Brampton.
+
+There were few guests in the great dining room when they breakfasted at
+seven the next morning.  New York, in the sunlight, had taken on a more
+kindly expression, and those who were near by smiled at them and seemed
+full of good-will.  Persons smiled at them that day as they walked the
+streets or stood spellbound before the shop windows, and some who saw
+them felt a lump rise in their throats at the memories they aroused of
+forgotten days: the three seemed to bring the very air of the hills with
+them into that teeming place, and many who, had come to the city with
+high hopes, now in the shackles of drudgery; looked after them.  They
+were a curious party, indeed: the straight, dark girl with the light in
+her eyes and the color in her cheeks; the quaint, rugged figure of the
+elderly man in his swallow-tail and brass buttons and square-toed,
+country boots; and the old soldier hobbling along with the aid of his
+green umbrella, clad in the blue he had loved and suffered for.  Had they
+remained until Sunday, they might have read an amusing account of their
+visit,--of Jethro's suppers of crackers and milk at the Astor House,
+of their progress along Broadway.  The story was not lacking in pathos,
+either, and in real human feeling, for the young reporter who wrote it
+had come, not many years before, from the hills himself.  But by that
+time they had accomplished another marvellous span in their journey,
+and were come to Washington itself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+Cynthia was deprived, too, of that thrilling first view of the capital
+from the train which she had pictured, for night had fallen when they
+reached Washington likewise.  As the train slowed down, she leaned a
+little out of the window and looked at the shabby houses and shabby
+streets revealed by the flickering lights in the lamp-posts.  Finally
+they came to a shabby station, were seized upon by a grinning darky
+hackman, who would not take no for an answer, and were rattled away to
+the hotel.  Although he had been to Washington but once in his life
+before, as a Lincoln elector, Jethro was greeted as an old acquaintance
+by this clerk also.
+
+"Glad to see you, Judge," said he, genially.  "Train late?  You've come
+purty nigh, missin' supper."
+
+A familiar of great men, the clerk was not offended when he got no
+response to his welcome.  Cynthia and Ephraim, intent on getting rid of
+some of the dust of their journey, followed the colored hallboy up the
+stairs.  Jethro stood poring over the register, when a distinguished-
+looking elderly gentleman with a heavy gray beard and eyes full of
+shrewdness and humor paused at the desk to ask a question.
+
+"Er--Senator?"
+
+The senator (for such he was, although he did not represent Jethro's
+state) turned and stared, and then held out his hand with unmistakable
+warmth.
+
+"Jethro Bass," he exclaimed, "upon my word!  What are you doing in
+Washington?"
+
+Jethro took the hand, but he did not answer the question.
+
+"Er--Senator--when can I see the President?"
+
+"Why," answered the senator, somewhat taken aback, "why, to-night, if you
+like.  I'm going to the White House in a few minutes and I think I can
+arrange it."
+
+"T-to-morrow afternoon--t-to-morrow afternoon?"
+
+The senator cast his eye over the swallow-tail coat and stove-pipe hat
+tilted back, and laughed.
+
+"Thunder!" he exclaimed, "you haven't changed a bit.  I'm beginning to
+look like an old man; but that milk-and-crackers diet seems to keep you
+young, Jethro.  I'll fix it for to-morrow afternoon."
+
+"W-what time--two?"
+
+"Well, I'll fix it for two to-morrow afternoon.  I never could understand
+you, Jethro; you don't do things like other men.  Do I smell gunpowder?
+What's up now--what do you want to see Grant about?"
+
+Jethro cast his eye around the corridor, where a few men were taking
+their ease after supper, and looked at the senator mysteriously.
+
+"Any place where we can talk?" he demanded.
+
+"We can go into the writing room and shut the door," answered the
+senator, more amused than ever.
+
+When Cynthia came downstairs, Jethro was standing with the gentleman in
+the corridor leading to the dining room, and she heard the gentleman say
+as he took his departure:--
+ "I haven't forgotten what you did for us in '70, Jethro.  I'll go right
+along and see to it now."
+
+Cynthia liked the gentleman's looks, and rightly surmised that he was one
+of the big men of the nation.  She was about to ask Jethro his name when
+Ephraim came limping along and put the matter out of her mind, and the
+three went into the almost empty dining room.  There they were served
+with elaborate attention.  by a darky waiter who had, in some mysterious
+way, learned Jethro's name and title.  Cynthia reflected with pride that
+Jethro, too, was one of the nation's great men, who could get anything he
+wanted simply by coming to the capital and asking for it.
+
+Ephraim was very much excited on finding himself in Washington, the sight
+of the place reviving in his mind a score of forgotten incidents of the
+war.  After supper they found seats in a corner of the corridor, where a
+number of people were scattered about, smoking and talking.  It did not
+occur to Jethro or Cynthia, or even to Ephraim, that these people were
+all of the male sex, and on the other hand the guests of the hotel were
+apparently used once in a while to see a lady from the country seated
+there.  At any rate, Cynthia was but a young girl, and her two
+companions, however unusual their appearance, were clearly most
+respectable.  Jethro, his hands in his pockets and his hat tilted, sat on
+the small of his back rapt in meditation; Cpnthia, her head awhirl,
+looked around her with sparkling eyes; while Ephraim was smoking a cigar
+he had saved for just such a festal occasion.  He did not see the stout
+man with the button and corded hat until he was almost on top of him.
+
+"Eph Prescott, I believe!" exclaimed the stout one.  "How be you,
+Comrade?"
+
+Heedless of his rheumatism, Ephraim sprang to his feet and  dropped the
+cigar, which the stout one picked up with much difficulty.
+
+"Well," said Ephraim, in a voice that shook with unwonted emotion, "you
+kin skin me if it ain't Amasy Beard!"  His eye travelled around Amasa's
+figure.  "Wouldn't a-knowed you, I swan, I wouldn't.  Why, when I seen
+you last, Amasy, your stomach was havin' all it could do to git hold of
+your backbone."
+
+Cynthia laughed outright, and even Jethro sat up and smiled.
+
+"When was it?" said Amasa, still clinging on to Ephraim's hand and
+incidentally to the cigar, which Ephraim had forgotten; "Beaver Creek,
+wahn't it?"
+
+"July 10, 1863," said Ephraim, instantly.
+
+Gradually they reached a sitting position, the cigar was restored to its
+rightful owner, and Mr. Beard was introduced, with some ceremony, to
+Cynthia and Jethro.  From Beaver Creek they began to fight the war over
+again, backward and forward, much to Cynthia's edification, when her
+attention was distracted by the entrance of a street band of wind
+instruments.  As the musicians made their way to another corner and began
+tuning up, she glanced mischievously at Jethro, for she knew his
+peculiarities by heart.  One of these was a most violent detestation of
+any but the best music.  He had often given her this excuse, laughingly,
+for not going to meeting in Coniston.  How he had come by his love for
+good music, Cynthia never knew--he certainly had not heard much of it.
+
+Suddenly a great volume of sound filled the corridor, and the band burst
+forth into what many supposed to be "The Watch on the Rhine."  Some
+people were plainly delighted; the veterans, once recovered from their
+surprise, shouted their reminiscences above the music, undismayed; Jethro
+held on to himself until the refrain, when he began to squirm, and as
+soon as the tune was done and the scattering applause had died down, he
+reached over and grabbed Mr. Amasa Beard by the knee.  Mr. Beard did not
+immediately respond, being at that moment behind logworks facing a rebel
+charge; he felt vaguely that some one was trying to distract his
+attention, and in some lobe of his brain was registered the fact that
+that particular knee had gout in it.  Jethro increased the pressure, and
+then Mr. Beard abandoned his logworks and swung around with a snort of
+pain.
+
+"H-how much do they git for that noise--h-how much do they git?"
+
+Mr. Beard tenderly lifted the hand from his knee and stared at Jethro
+with his mouth open, like a man aroused from a bad dream.
+
+"Who?  What noise?" he demanded.
+
+"The Dutchmen," said Jethro.  "H-how much do they git for that noise?"
+
+"Oh!"  Mr. Beard glanced at the band and began to laugh.  He thought
+Jethro a queer customer, no doubt, but he was a friend of Comrade
+Prescott's.  "By gum!" said Mr. Beard, "I thought for a minute a rebel
+chain-shot had took my leg off.  Well, sir, I guess that band gets about
+two dollars.  They've come in here every evening since I've been at the
+hotel."
+
+"T-two dollars?  Is that the price?  Er--you say two dollars is their
+price?"
+
+"Thereabouts," answered Mr. Beard, uneasily.  Veteran as he was,
+Jethro's appearance and earnestness were a little alarming.
+
+"You say two dollars is their price?"
+
+"Thereabouts," shouted Mr. Beard, seating himself on the edge of his
+chair.
+
+But Jethro paid no attention to him.  He rose, unfolding by degrees his
+six feet two, and strode diagonally across the corridor toward the band
+leader.  Conversation was hushed at the sight of his figure, a titter ran
+around the walls, but Jethro was oblivious to these things.  He drew a
+great calfskin wallet from an inside pocket of his coat, and the band
+leader, a florid Geranan, laid down his instrument and made an elaborate
+bow.  Jethro waited until the man had become upright and then held out a
+two-dollar bill.
+
+"Is that about right for the performance?" he said "is that about right?"
+
+"Ja, mein Herr," said the man, nodding vociferously.
+
+"I want to pay what's right--I want to pay what's right," said Jethro.
+
+"I thank you very much, sir," said the leader, finding his English, "you
+haf pay for all."
+
+"P-paid for everything--everything to-night?" demanded Jethro.
+
+The leader spread out his hands.
+
+"You haf pay for one whole evening," said he, and bowed again.
+
+"Then take it, take it," said Jethro, pushing the bill into the man's
+palm; "but don't you come back to-night--don't you come back to-night."
+
+The amazed leader stared at Jethro--and words failed him.  There was
+something about this man that compelled him to obey, and he gathered up
+his followers and led the way silently out of the hotel.  Roars of
+laughter and applause arose on all sides; but Jethro was as one who heard
+them not as he made his way back to his seat again.
+
+"You did a good job, my friend," said Mr. Beard, approvingly.  "I'm going
+to take Eph Prescott down the street to see some of the boys.  Won't you
+come, too?"
+
+Mr. Beard doubtless accepted it as one of the man's eccentricities that
+Jethro did not respond to him, for without more ado he departed arm in
+arm with Ephraim.  Jethro was looking at Cynthia, who was staring toward
+the desk at the other end of the corridor, her face flushed, and her
+fingers closed over the arms of her chair.  It never occurred to Jethro
+that she might have been embarrassed.
+
+"W-what's the matter, Cynthy?" he asked, sinking into the chair beside
+her.
+
+Her breath caught sharply, but she tried to smile at him.  He did not
+discover what was the matter until long afterward, when he recalled that
+evening to mind.  Jethro was a man used to hotel corridors, used to
+sitting in an attitude that led the unsuspecting to believe he was half
+asleep; but no person of note could come or go whom he did not remember.
+He had seen the distinguished party arrive at the desk, preceded by a
+host of bell-boys with shawls and luggage.  On the other hand, some of
+the distinguished party had watched the proceeding of paying off the band
+with no little amusement.  Miss Janet Duncan had giggled audibly, her
+mother had smiled, while her father and Mr. Worthington had pretended to
+be deeply occupied with the hotel register.  Somers was not there.  Bob
+Worthington laughed heartily with the rest until his eye, travelling down
+the line of Jethro's progress, fell on Cynthia, and now he was striding
+across the floor toward them.  And even in the horrible confusion of that
+moment Cynthia had a vagrant thought that his clothes had an enviable cut
+and became him remarkably.
+
+"Well, of all things, to find you here!" he cried; "this is the best luck
+that ever happened.  I am glad to see you.  I was going to steal away to
+Brampton for a couple of days before the term opened, and I meant to look
+you up there.  And Mr. Bass," said Bob, turning to Jethro, "I'm glad to
+see you too."
+
+Jethro looked at the young man and smiled and held out his hand.  It was
+evident that Bob was blissfully unaware that hostilities between powers
+of no mean magnitude were about to begin; that the generals themselves
+were on the ground, and that he was holding treasonable parley with the
+enemy.  The situation appealed to Jethro, especially as he glanced at the
+backs of the two gentlemen facing the desk.  These backs seemed to him
+full of expression.  "Th-thank you, Bob, th-thank you," he answered.
+
+"I like the way you fixed that band," said Bob; "I haven't laughed as
+much for a year.  You hate music, don't you?  I hope you'll forgive that
+awful noise we made outside of your house last July, Mr. Bass."
+
+"You--you make that noise, Bob, you--you make that?"
+
+"Well," said Bob, "I'm afraid I did most of it.  There was another fellow
+that helped some and played the guitar.  It was pretty bad," he added,
+with a side glance at Cynthia, "but it was meant for a compliment."
+
+"Oh," said she, "it was meant for a compliment, was it?"
+
+"Of course," he answered, glad of the opportunity to turn his attention
+entirely to her.  "I was for slipping away right after supper, but my
+father headed us off."
+
+"Slipping away?" repeated Cynthia.
+
+"You see, he had a kind of a reception and fireworks afterward.  We
+didn't get away till after nine, and then I thought I'd have a lecture
+when I got home."
+
+"Did you?"  asked Cynthia.
+
+"No," said Bob, "he didn't know where I'd been."
+
+Cynthia felt the blood rush to her temples, but by habit and instinct she
+knew when to restrain herself.
+
+"Would it have made any difference to him where you had been?" she asked
+calmly enough.
+
+Bob had a presentiment that he was on dangerous ground.  This new and
+self-possessed Cynthia was an enigma to him--certainly a fascinating
+enigma.
+
+"My father world have thought I was a fool to go off serenading," he
+answered, flushing.  Bob did not like a lie; he knew that his father
+would have been angry if he had heard he had gone to Coniston; he felt,
+in the small of his back, that his father was angry mow, and guessed the
+reason.
+
+She regarded him gravely as he spoke, and then her eyes left his face and
+became fixed upon an object at the far end of the corridor.  Bob turned
+in time to see Janet Duncan swing on her heel and follow her mother up
+the stairs.  He struggled to find words to tide over what he felt was an
+awkward moment.
+
+"We've had a fine trip;" he said, "though I should much rather have
+stayed at home.  The West is a wonderful country, with its canons and
+mountains and great stretches of plain.  My father met us in Chicago, and
+we came here.  I don't know why, because Washington's dead at this time
+of the year.  I suppose it must be on account of politics."  Looking at
+Jethro with a sudden inspiration, "I hadn't thought of that."
+
+Jethro had betrayed no interest in the conversation.  He was seated, as
+usual, on the small of his back.  But he saw a young man of short
+stature, with a freckled face and close-cropped, curly red hair, come
+into the corridor by another entrance; he saw Isaac D. Worthington draw
+him aside and speak to him, and he saw the young man coming towards them.
+
+"How do you do, Miss Wetherell?" cried the young man joyously, while
+still ten feet away, "I'm awfully glad to see you, upon my word; I am.
+How long are you going to be in Washington?"
+
+"I don't know, Mr. Duncan," answered Cynthia.
+
+"Did Worthy know you were here?" demanded Mr. Duncan, suspiciously.
+
+"He did when he saw me," said Cynthia, smiling.
+
+"Not till then?" asked Mr. Duncan.  "Say, Worthy; your father wants to
+see you right away.  I'm going to be in Washington a day or two--will you
+go walking with me to-morrow morning, Miss Wetherell?"
+
+"She's going walking with me," said Bob, not in the best of tempers.
+
+"Then I'll go along," said Mr. Duncan, promptly.
+
+By this time Cynthia got up and was holding out her hand to Bob
+Worthington.  "I'm not going walking with either of you," she said "I
+have another engagement.  And I think I'll have to say good night,
+because I'm very tired."
+
+"When can I see you?"  Both the young men asked the question at once.
+
+"Oh, you'll have plenty of chances," she answered, and was gone.
+
+The young men looked at each other somewhat blankly; and then down at
+Jethro, who did not seem to know that they were there, and then they made
+their way toward the desk.  But Isaac D.  Worthington and his friends had
+disappeared.
+
+A few minutes later the distinguished-looking senator with whom Jethro
+had been in conversation before supper entered the hotel.  He seemed
+preoccupied, and heedless of the salutations he received; but when he
+caught sight of Jethro he crossed the corridor rapidly and sat down
+beside him.  Jethro did not move.  The corridor was deserted now, save
+for the two.
+
+"Bass," began the senator, "what's the row up in your state?"
+
+"H-haven't heard of any row," said Jethro.
+
+"What did you come to Washington for?" demanded the senator, somewhat
+sharply.
+
+"Er--vacation," said Jethro, "vacation--to show my gal, Cynthy, the
+capital."
+
+"Now see here, Bass," said the senator, "I don't forget what happened in
+'70.  I don't object to wading through a swarm of bees to get a little
+honey for a friend, but I think I'm entitled to know why he wants it."
+
+"G-got the honey?" asked Jethro.
+
+The senator took off his hat and wiped his brow, and then he stole a look
+at Jethro, with apparently barren results.
+
+"Jethro," he said, "people say you run that state of yours right up to
+the handle.  What's all this trouble about a two-for-a-cent
+postmastership?"
+
+"H-haven't heard of any trouble," said Jethro.
+
+"Well, there is trouble," said the senator, losing patience at last.
+When I told Grant you were here and mentioned that little Brampton matter
+to him,--it didn't seem much to me,--the bees began to fly pretty thick,
+I can tell you.  I saw right away that somebody had been stirring 'em up.
+It looks to me, Jethro," said the senator gravely, "it looks to me as if
+you had something of a rebellion on your hands."
+
+"W-what'd Grant say?" Jethro inquired.
+
+"Well, he didn't say a great deal--he isn't much of a talker, you know,
+but what he did say was to the point.  It seems that your man, Prescott,
+doesn't come from Brampton, in the first place, and Grant says that while
+he likes soldiers, he hasn't any use for the kind that want to lie down
+and make the government support 'em.  I'll tell you what I found out.
+Worthington and Duncan wired the President this morning, and they've gone
+up to the White House now.  They've got a lot of railroad interests back
+of them, and they've taken your friend Sutton into camp; but I managed to
+get the President to promise not to do anything until he saw you tomorrow
+afternoon at two."
+
+Jethro sat silent so long that the senator began to think he wasn't going
+to answer him at all.  In his opinion, he had told Jethro some very grave
+facts.
+
+"W-when are you going to see the President again?" said Jethro, at last.
+
+"To-morrow morning," answered the senator; "he wants me to walk over with
+him to see the postmaster-general, who is sick in bed."
+
+"What time do you leave the White House?--"
+
+"At eleven," said the senator, very much puzzled.
+
+"Er--Grant ever pay any attention to an old soldier on the street?"
+
+The senator glanced at Jethro, and a twinkle came into his eye.
+
+"Sometimes he has been known to," he answered.
+
+"You--you ever pay any attention to an old soldier on the street?"
+
+Then the senator's eyes began to snap.
+
+"Sometimes I have been known to."
+
+"Er--suppose an old soldier was in front of the White House at eleven
+o'clock--an old soldier with a gal suppose?"
+
+The senator saw the point, and took no pains to restrain his admiration.
+
+"Jethro," he said, slapping him on the shoulder, "I'm willing to bet a
+few thousand dollars you'll run your state for a while yet."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+"Heard you say you was goin' for a walk this morning, Cynthy," Jethro
+remarked, as they sat at breakfast the next morning.
+
+"Why, of course," answered Cynthia, "Cousin Eph and I are going out to
+see Washington, and he is to show me the places that he remembers."  She
+looked at Jethro appealingly.  "Aren't you coming with us?" she asked.
+
+"M-meet you at eleven, Cynthy," he said.
+
+"Eleven!" exclaimed Cynthia in dismay, "that's almost dinner-time."
+
+"M-meet you in front of the White House at eleven," said Jethro, "plumb
+in front of it, under a tree."
+
+By half-past seven, Cynthia and Ephraim with his green umbrella were in
+the street, but it would be useless to burden these pages with a
+description of all the sights they saw, and with the things that Ephraim
+said about them, and incidentally about the war.  After New York, much of
+Washington would then have seemed small and ragged to any one who lacked
+ideals and a national sense, but Washington was to Cynthia as Athens to a
+Greek.  To her the marble Capitol shining on its hill was a sacred
+temple, and the great shaft that struck upward through the sunlight,
+though yet unfinished, a fitting memorial to him who had led the barefoot
+soldiers of the colonies through ridicule to victory.  They looked up
+many institutions and monument, they even had time to go to the Navy
+Yard, and they saved the contemplation of the White House till the last.
+The White House, which Cynthia thought the finest and most graceful
+mansion in all the world, in its simplicity and dignity, a fitting
+dwelling for the chosen of the nation.  Under the little tree which
+Jethro had mentioned, Ephraim stood bareheaded before the walls which
+had sheltered Lincoln, which were now the home of the greatest of his
+captains, Grant: and wondrous emotions played upon the girl's spirit,
+too, as she gazed.  They forgot the present in the past and the future,
+and they did not see the two gentlemen who had left the portico some
+minutes before and were now coming toward them along the sidewalk.
+
+The two gentlemen, however, slowed their steps involuntarily at a sight
+which was uncommon, even in Washington.  The girl's arm was in the
+soldier's, and her face, which even in repose had a true nobility, now
+was alight with an inspiration that is seen but seldom in a lifetime.
+In marble, could it have been wrought by a great sculptor, men would
+have dreamed before it of high things.
+
+The two, indeed, might have stood for a group, the girl as the spirit,
+the man as the body which had risked and suffered all for it, and still
+held it fast.  For the honest face of the soldier reflected that spirit
+as truly as a mirror.
+
+Ephraim was aroused from his thoughts by Cynthia nudging his arm.  He
+started, put on his hat, and stared very hard at a man smoking a cigar
+who was standing before him.  Then he stiffened and raised his hand in an
+involuntary salute.  The man smiled.  He was not very tall, he had a
+closely trimmed light beard that was growing a little gray, he wore a
+soft hat something like Ephraim's, a black tie on a white pleated shirt,
+and his eyeglasses were pinned to his vest.  His eyes were all kindness.
+
+"How do you do, Comrade?" he said, holding out his hand.
+
+"General," said Ephraim, "Mr. President," he added, correcting himself,
+"how be you?"  He shifted the green umbrella, and shook the hand timidly
+but warmly.
+
+"General will do," said the President, with a smiling glance at the tall
+senator beside him, "I like to be called General."
+
+"You've growed some older, General," said Ephraim, scanning his face with
+a simple reverence and affection, "but you hain't changed so much as I'd
+a thought since I saw you whittlin' under a tree beside the Lacy house in
+the Wilderness."
+
+"My duty has changed some," answered the President, quite as simply.  He
+added with a touch of sadness, "I liked those days best, Comrade."
+
+"Well, I guess!" exclaimed Ephraim, "you're general over everything now,
+but you're not a mite bigger man to me than you was."
+
+The President took the compliment as it was meant.
+
+"I found it easier to run an army than I do to run a country," he said.
+
+Ephraim's blue eyes flamed with indignation.
+
+"I don't take no stock in the bull-dogs and the gold harness at Long
+Branch and--and all them lies the dratted newspapers print about you,"--
+Ephraim hammered his umbrella on the pavement as an expression of his
+feelings,--"and what's more, the people don't."
+
+The President glanced at the senator again, and laughed a little,
+quietly.
+
+"Thank you; Comrade," he said.
+
+"You're a plain, common man," continued Ephraim, paying the highest
+compliment known to rural New England; "the people think a sight of you,
+or they wouldn't hev chose you twice, General."
+
+"So you were in the Wilderness?" said the President, adroitly changing
+the subject.
+
+"Yes, General.  I was pressed into orderly duty the first day--that's
+when I saw you whittlin' under the tree, and you didn't seem to have no
+more consarn than if it had been a company drill.  Had a cigar then, too.
+But the second day; May the 6th, I was with the regiment.  I'll never
+forget that day," said Ephraim, warming to the subject, "when we was
+fightin' Ewell up and down the Orange Plank Road, playin' hide-and-seek
+with the Johnnies in the woods.  You remember them woods, General?"
+
+The President nodded, his cigar between his teeth.  He looked as though
+the scene were coming back to him.
+
+"Never seen such woods," said Ephraim, "scrub oak and pine and cedars and
+young stuff springin' up until you couldn't see the length of a company,
+and the Rebs jumpin' and hollerin' around and shoutin' every which way.
+After a while a lot of them saplings was mowed off clean by the bullets,
+and then the woods caught afire, and that was hell."
+
+"Were you wounded?" asked the President, quickly.
+
+"I was hurt some, in the hip," answered Ephraim.
+
+"Some!" exclaimed Cynthia, "why, you have walked lame ever since."  She
+knew the story by heart, but the recital of it never failed to stir her
+blood! They carried him out just as he was going to be burned up, in a
+blanket hung from rifles, and he was in the hospital nine months, and had
+to come home for a while."
+
+"Cynthy," said Ephraim in gentle reproof, "I callate the General don't
+want to hear that."
+
+Cynthia flushed, but the President looked at her with an added interest.
+
+"My dear young lady," he said, "that seems to me the vital part of the
+story.  If I remember rightly," he added, turning again to Ephraim, the
+Fifth Corps was on the Orange turnpike.  What brigade were you in?"
+
+"The third brigade of the First Division," answered Ephraim.
+
+"Griffin's," said the President.  "There were several splendid New
+England regiments in that brigade.  I sent them with Griffin to help
+Sheridan at Five Forks."
+
+"I was thar too," cried Ephraim.
+
+"What!" said the President, "with the lame hip?"
+
+"Well, General, I went back, I couldn't help it.  I couldn't stay away
+from the boys--just couldn't.  I didn't limp as bad then as I do now.  I
+wahn't much use anywhere else, and I had l'arned to fight.  Five Forks!"
+exclaimed Ephraim.  "I call that day to mind as if it was yesterday.  I
+remember how the boys yelled when they told us we was goin' to Sheridan.
+We got started about daylight, and it took us till four o'clock in the
+afternoon to git into position.  The woods was just comin' a little
+green, and the white dogwoods was bloomin' around.  Sheridan, he galloped
+up to the line with that black horse of his'n and hollered out, 'Come on,
+boys, go in at a clean, jump or You won't ketch one of 'em.' You know how
+men, even veterans like that Fifth Corps, sometimes hev to be pushed into
+a fight.  There was a man from a Maine regiment got shot in the head fust
+thing.  'I'm killed,' said he.  'Oh, no, you're not,' says Sheridan,
+'pickup your gun and go for 'em.' But he was killed.  Well, we went for
+'em through all the swamps and briers and everything, and Sheridan, thar
+in front, had got the battle-flag and was rushin' round with it swearin'
+and prayin' and shoutin', and the first thing we knowed he'd jumped his
+horse clean over their logworks and landed right on top of the
+Johnnie's."
+
+"Yes," said the President, "that was Sheridan, sure enough."
+
+"Mr. President," said the senator, who stood by wonderingly while General
+Grant had lost himself in this conversation, "do you realize what time it
+is?"
+
+"Yes, yes," said the President, "we must go on.  What was your rank,
+Comrade?"
+
+"Sergeant, General."
+
+"I hope you have got a good pension for that hip," said the President,
+kindly.  It may be well to add that he was not always so incautious, but
+this soldier bore the unmistakable stamp of simplicity and sincerity on
+his face.
+
+Ephraim hesitated.
+
+"He never would ask for a pension, General," said Cynthia.
+
+"What!" exclaimed the President in real astonishment, "are you so rich as
+all that?" and he glanced at the green umbrella.
+
+"Well, General," said Ephraim, uncomfortably, "I never liked the notion
+of gittin' paid for it.  You see, I was what they call a war-Democrat."
+
+"Good Lord!" said the President, but more to himself.  "What do you do
+now?"
+
+"I callate to make harness," answered Ephraim.
+
+"Only he can't make it any more on account of his rheumatism, Mr.
+President," Cynthia put in.
+
+"I think you might call me General, too," he said, with the grace that
+many simple people found inherent in him.  "And may I ask your name,
+young lady?"
+
+"Cynthia Wetherell--General," she said smiling.
+
+"That sounds more natural," said the President, and then to Ephraim,
+"Your daughter?"
+
+"I couldn't think more of her if she was," answered Ephraim; "Cynthy's
+pulled me through some tight spells.  Her mother was my cousin, General.
+My name's Prescott--Ephraim Prescott."
+
+"Ephraim Prescott!" ejaculated the President, sharply, taking his cigar
+from his mouth, "Ephraim Prescott!"
+
+"Prescott--that's right--Prescott, General," repeated Ephraim, sorely
+puzzled by these manifestations of amazement.
+
+"What did you come to Washington for?" asked the President.
+
+"Well, General, I kind of hate to tell you--I didn't intend to mention
+that.  I guess I won't say nothin' about it," he added, "we've had such a
+sociable time.  I've always b'en a little mite ashamed of it, General,
+ever since 'twas first mentioned."
+
+"Good Lord!" said the President again, and then he looked at Cynthia.
+"What is it, Miss Cynthia?" he asked.
+
+It was now Cynthia's turn to be a little confused.
+
+"Uncle Jethro--that is, Mr. Bass" (the President nodded), "went to Cousin
+Eph when he couldn't make harness any more and said he'd give him the
+Brampton post-office."
+
+The President's eyes met the senator's, and both gentlemen laughed.
+Cynthia bit her lip, not seeing any cause for mirth in her remark, while
+Ephraim looked uncomfortable and mopped the perspiration from his brow.
+
+"He said he'd give it to him, did he?" said the President.  "Is Mr. Bass
+your uncle?"
+
+"Oh, no, General," replied Cynthia, "he's really no relation.  He's done
+everything for me, and I live with him since my father died.  He was
+going to meet us here," she continued, looking around hurriedly, "I'm
+sure I can't think what's kept him."
+
+"Mr. President, we are half an hour late already," said the senator,
+hurriedly.
+
+"Well, well," said the President, "I suppose I must go.  Good-by, Miss
+Cynthia," said he, taking the girl's hand warmly.  "Good-by, Comrade.
+If ever you want to see General Grant, just send in your name.  Good-by."
+
+The President lifted his hat politely to Cynthia and passed.  He said
+something to the senator which they did not hear, and the senator laughed
+heartily.  Ephraim and Cynthia watched them until they were out of sight.
+
+"Godfrey!" exclaimed Ephraim, "they told me he was hard to talk to.  Why,
+Cynthy, he's as simple as a child."
+
+"I've always thought that all great men must be simple," said Cynthia;
+"Uncle Jethro is."
+
+"To think that the President of the United States stood talkin' to us on
+the sidewalk for half an hour," said Ephraim, clutching Cynthia's arm.
+"Cynthy, I'm glad we didn't press that post-office matter it was worth
+more to me than all the post-offices in the Union to have that talk with
+General Grant."
+
+They waited some time longer under the tree, happy in the afterglow of
+this wonderful experience.  Presently a clock struck twelve.
+
+"Why, it's dinner-time, Cynthy," said Ephraim.  "I guess Jethro haint'
+a-comin'--must hev b'en delayed by some of them politicians."
+
+"It's the first time I ever knew him to miss an appointment," said
+Cynthia, as they walked back to the hotel.
+
+Jethro was not in the corridor, so they passed on to the dining room and
+looked eagerly from group to group.  Jethro was not there, either, but
+Cynthia heard some one laughing above the chatter of the guests, and drew
+back into the corridor.  She had spied the Duncans and the Worthingtons
+making merry by themselves at a corner table, and it was Somers's laugh
+that she heard.  Bob, too, sitting next to Miss Duncan, was much amused
+about something.  Suddenly Cynthia's exaltation over the incident of the
+morning seemed to leave her, and Bob Worthington's words which she had
+pondered over in the night came back to her with renewed force.  He did
+not find it necessary to steal away to see Miss Duncan.  Why should he
+have "stolen away" to see her?  Was it because she was a country girl,
+and poor?  That was true; but on the other hand, did she not live in the
+sunlight, as it were, of Uncle Jethro's greatness, and was it not an
+honor to come to his house and see any one?  And why had Mr. Worthington
+turned hid back on Jethro, and sent for Bob when he was talking to them?
+Cynthia could not understand these things, and her pride was sorely
+wounded by them.
+
+"Perhaps Jethro's in his room," suggested Ephraim.
+
+And indeed they found him there seated on the bed, poring over some
+newspapers, and both in a breath demanded where he had been.  Ephraim did
+not wait for an answer.
+
+"We seen General Grant, Jethro," he cried; "while we was waitin' for you
+under the tree he come up and stood talkin' to us half an hour.  Full
+half an hour, wahn't it, Cynthy?"
+
+"Oh, yes," answered Cynthia, forgetting her own grievance at the
+recollection; "only it didn't seem nearly that long."
+
+"W-want to know!" exclaimed Jethro, in astonishment, putting down his
+paper.  "H-how did it happen?"
+
+"Come right up and spoke to us," said Ephraim, in a tone he might have
+used to describe a miracle, "jest as if he was common folk.  Never had a
+more sociable talk with anybody.  Why, there was times when I clean
+forgot he was President of the United States.  The boys won't believe it
+when we git back at Coniston."
+
+And Ephraim, full of his subject, began to recount from the beginning the
+marvellous affair, occasionally appealing to Cynthia for confirmation.
+How he had lived over again the Wilderness and Five Forks; how the
+General had changed since he had seen him whittling under a tree;
+how the General had asked about his pension.
+
+"D-didn't mention the post-office, did you, Ephraim?"
+
+"Why, no," replied Ephraim, "I didn't like to exactly.  You see, we was
+havin' such a good time I didn't want to spoil it, but Cynthy--"
+
+"I told the President about it, Uncle Jethro; I told him how sick Cousin
+Eph had been, and that you were going to give him the postmastership
+because he couldn't work any more with his hands."
+
+The training of a lifetime had schooled Jethro not to betray surprise.
+
+"K-kind of mixin' up in politics, hain't you, Cynthy?  P-President say he'd
+give you the postmastership, Eph?" he asked.
+
+"He didn't say nothin' about it, Jethro," answered Ephraim slowly;
+"I callate he has other views for the place, and he was too kind to come
+right out with 'em and spoil our mornin'.  You see, Jethro, I wahn't only
+a sergeant, and Brampton's gittin' to be a big town."
+
+"But, surely," cried Cynthia, who could scarcely wait for him to finish,
+"surely you're going to give Cousin Eph the post-office, aren't you,
+Uncle Jethro?  All you have to do is to tell the President that you want
+it for him.  Why, I had an idea that we came down for that."
+
+"Now, Cynthy," Ephraim put in, deprecatingly.
+
+"Who else would get the post-office?" asked Cynthia.  "Surely you're not
+going to let Mr. Sutton have it for Dave Wheelock!"
+
+"Er--Cynthy," said Jethro, slyly, "w-what'd you say to me once about
+interferin' with women's fixin's?"
+
+Cynthia saw the point.  She perceived also that the mazes of politics
+were not to be understood by a young woman, of even by an old soldier.
+She laughed and seized Jethro's hands and pulled him from the bed.
+
+"We won't get any dinner unless we hurry," she said.
+
+When they reached the dining room she was relieved to discover that the
+party in the corner had gone.
+
+In the afternoon there were many more sights to be viewed, but they were
+back in the hotel again by half-past four, because Ephraim's Wilderness
+leg had its limits of endurance.  Jethro (though he had not mentioned the
+fact to them) had gone to the White House.
+
+It was during the slack hours that our friend the senator, whose interest
+in the matter of the Brampton post office out-weighed for the present
+certain grave problems of the Administration in which he was involved,
+hurried into the Willard Hotel, looking for Jethro Bass.  He found him
+without much trouble in his usual attitude, occupying one of the chairs
+in the corridor.
+
+"Well," exclaimed the senator, with a touch of eagerness he did not often
+betray, "did you see Grant?  How about your old soldier?  He's one of the
+most delightful characters I ever met--simple as a child," and he laughed
+at the recollection.  "That was a masterstroke of yours, Bass, putting
+him under that tree with that pretty girl.  I doubt if you ever did
+anything better in your life.  Did they tell you about it?"
+
+"Yes," said Jethro, "they told me about it."
+
+"And how about Grant?  What did he say to you?"
+
+"W-well, I went up there and sent in my card.  D-didn't have to wait a
+great while, as I was pretty early, and soon he came in, smokin' a black
+cigar, head bent forward a little.  D-didn't ask me to sit down, and what
+talkin' we did we did standin'.  D-didn't ask me what he could do for me,
+what I wanted, or anything else, but just stood there, and I stood there.
+F-fust time in my life I didn't know how to commerce or what to say;
+looked--looked at me--didn't take his eye off me.  After a while I got
+started, somehow; told him I was there to ask him to appoint Ephraim
+Prescott to the Brampton postoffice--t-told him all about Ephraim from
+the time he was locked in the cradle--never was so hard put that I could
+remember.  T-told him how Ephraim shook butternuts off my fathers tree--
+for all I know.  T-told him all about Ephraim's war record--leastways
+all I could call to mind--and, by Godfrey! before I got through, I wished
+I'd listened to more of it.  T-told him about Ephraim's Wilderness bullets
+--t-told him about Ephraim's rheumatism,--how it bothered him when he went
+to bed and when he got up again."
+
+If Jethro had glanced at his companion, he would have seen the senator
+was shaking with silent and convulsive laughter.
+
+"All the time I talked to him I didn't see a muscle move in his face,"
+Jethro continued, "so I started in again, and he looked--looked--looked
+right at me.  W-wouldn't wink--don't think he winked once while I was in
+that room.  I watched him as close as I could, and I watched to see if a
+muscle moved or if I was makin' any impression.  All he would do was to
+stand there and look--look--look.  K-kept me there ten minutes and never
+opened his mouth at all.  Hardest man to talk to I ever met--never see a
+man before but what I could get him to say somethin', if it was only a
+cuss word.  I got tired of it after a while, made up my mind that I had
+found one man I couldn't move.  Then what bothered me was to get out of
+that room.  If I'd a had a Bible I believe I'd a read it to him.  I
+didn't know what to say, but I did say this after a while:--
+ "'W-well, Mr. President, I guess I've kept you long enough--g-guess
+you're a pretty busy man.  H-hope you'll give Mr. Prescott that
+postmastership.  Er--er good-by.'
+
+"'Wait, sir,' he said.
+
+"'Yes,' I said, 'I-I'll wait.'
+
+"Thought you was goin' to give him that postmastership, Mr. Bass,' he
+said."
+
+At this point the senator could not control his mirth, and the empty
+corridor echoed his laughter.
+
+"By thunder! what did you say to that?"
+
+"Er--I said, 'Mr. President, I thought I was until a while ago.'
+
+"'And when did you change your mind?' says he."
+
+Then he laughed a little--not much--but he laughed a little.
+
+"'I understand that your old soldier lives within the limits of the
+delivery of the Brampton office,' said he."
+
+"'That's correct, Mr. President,' said I."
+
+"'Well,' said he, 'I will app'int him postmaster at Brampton, Mr. Bass.'"
+
+"'When?' said I."
+
+Then he laughed a little more.
+
+"I'll have the app'intment sent to your hotel this afternoon,' said he."
+
+"'Then I said to him, 'This has come out full better than I expected, Mr.
+President.  I'm much obliged to you.'  He didn't say nothin' more, so I
+come out."
+
+"Grant didn't say anything about Worthington or Duncan, did he?" asked
+the senator, curiously, as he rose to go.
+
+"G-guess I've told you all he said," answered Jethro; "'twahn't a great
+deal."
+
+The senator held out his hand.
+
+"Bass," he said, laughing, "I believe you came pretty near meeting your
+match.  But if Grant's the hardest man in the Union to get anything out
+of, I've a notion who's the second."  And with this parting shot the
+senator took his departure, chuckling to himself as he went.
+
+As has been said, there were but few visitors in Washington at this time,
+and the hotel corridor was all but empty.  Presently a substantial-
+looking gentleman came briskly in from the street, nodding affably to the
+colored porters and bell-boys, who greeted him by name.  He wore a
+flowing Prince Albert coat, which served to dignify a growing portliness,
+and his coal-black whiskers glistened in the light.  A voice, which
+appeared to come from nowhere in particular, brought the gentleman up
+standing.
+
+"How be you, Heth?"
+
+It may not be that Mr. Sutton's hand trembled, but the ashes of his cigar
+fell to the floor.  He was not used to visitations, and for the instant,
+if the truth be told, he was not equal to looking around.
+
+"Like Washington, Heth--like Washington?"
+
+Then Mr. Sutton turned.  His presence of mind, and that other presence of
+which he was so proud, seemed for the moment to have deserted him.
+
+"S-stick pretty close to business, Heth, comin' down here out of session
+time.  S-stick pretty close to business, don't you, since the people sent
+you to Congress?"
+
+Mr. Sutton might have offered another man a cigar or a drink, but (as is
+well known) Jethro was proof against tobacco or stimulants.
+
+"Well," said the Honorable Heth, catching his breath and making a dive,
+"I am surprised to see you, Jethro," which was probably true.
+
+"Th-thought you might be," said Jethro.  "Er--glad to see me, Heth--glad
+to see me?"
+
+As has been recorded, it is peculiarly difficult to lie to people who are
+not to be deceived.
+
+"Why, certainly I am," answered the Honorable Heth, swallowing hard,
+"certainly I am, Jethro.  I meant to have got to Coniston this summer,
+but I was so busy--"
+
+"Peoples' business, I understand.  Er--hear you've gone in for high-
+minded politics, Heth--r-read a highminded speech of yours--two high-
+minded speeches.  Always thought you was a high-minded man, Heth."
+
+"How did you like those speeches, Jethro?" asked Mr. Sutton, striving as
+best he might to make some show of dignity.
+
+"Th-thought they was high-minded," said Jethro.
+
+Then there was a silence, for Mr. Sutton could think of nothing more to
+say.  And he yearned to depart with a great yearning, but something held
+him there.
+
+"Heth," said Jethafter a while, "you was always very friendly and
+obliging.  You've done a great many favors for me in your life."
+
+"I've always tried to be neighborly, Jethro," said Mr. Sutton, but his
+voice sounded a little husky even to himself.
+
+"And I may have done one or two little things for you, Heth," Jethro
+continued, "but I can't remember exactly.  Er--can you remember, Heth."
+
+Mr. Sutton was trying with becoming nonchalance to light the stump of his
+cigar.  He did not succeed this time.  He pulled himself together with a
+supreme effort.
+
+"I think we've both been mutually helpful, Jethro," he said, "mutually
+helpful."
+
+"Well," said Jethro, reflectively, "I don't know as I could have put it
+as well as that--there's somethin' in being an orator."
+
+There was another silence, a much longer one.  The Honorable Heth threw
+his butt away, and lighted another cigar.  Suddenly, as if by magic, his
+aplomb returned, and in a flash of understanding he perceived the
+situation.  He saw himself once more as the successful congressman, the
+trusted friend of the railroad interests, and he saw Jethro as a
+discredited boss.  He did not stop to reflect that Jethro did not act
+like a discredited boss, as a keener man might have done.  But if the
+Honorable Heth had been a keener man, he would not have been at that time
+a congressman.  Mr. Sutton accused himself of having been stupid in not
+grasping at once that the tables were turned, and that now he was the one
+to dispense the gifts.
+
+"K-kind of fortunate you stopped to speak to me, Heth.  N-now I come to
+think of it, I hev a little favor to ask of you."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Sutton, blowing out the smoke; "of course anything I
+can do, Jethro--anything in reason."
+
+"W-wouldn't ask a high-minded man to do anything he hadn't ought to,"
+said Jethro; "the fact is, I'd like to git Eph Prescott appointed at the
+Brampton post-office.  You can fix that, Heth--can't you--you can fix
+that?"
+
+Mr. Sutton stuck his thumb into his vest pocket and cleared his throat.
+
+"I can't tell you how sorry I am not to oblige you, Jethro, but I've
+arranged to give that post-office to Dave Wheelock."
+
+"A-arranged it, hev You--a-arranged it?"
+
+"Why, yes," said Mr. Sutton, scarcely believing his own ears.  Could it
+be possible that he was using this patronizingly kind tone to Jethro
+Bass?
+
+"Well, that's too bad," said Jethro; "g-got it all fixed, hev you?"
+
+"Practically," answered Mr. Sutton, grandly; "indeed, I may go as far as
+to say that it is as certain as if I had the appointment here in my
+pocket.  I'm sorry not to oblige you, Jethro; but these are matters which
+a member of Congress must look after pretty closely."  He held out his
+hand, but Jethro did not appear to see it,--he had his in his pockets.
+"I've an important engagement," said the Honorable Heth, consulting a
+large gold watch.  "Are you going to be in Washington long?"
+
+"G-guess I've about got through, Heth--g-guess I've about got through,"
+said Jethro.
+
+"Well, if you have time and there's any other little thing, I'm in Room
+29," said Mr. Sutton, as he put his foot on the stairway.
+
+"T-told Worthington you got that app'intment for Wheelock--t-told
+Worthington?"  Jethro called out after him.
+
+Mr. Sutton turned and waved his cigar and smiled in acknowledgment of
+this parting bit of satire.  He felt that he could afford to smile.  A
+few minutes later he was ensconced on the sofa of a private sitting room
+reviewing the incident, with much gusto, for the benefit of Mr. Isaac D.
+Worthington and Mr. Alexander Duncan.  Both of these gentlemen laughed
+heartily, for the Honorable Heth Sutton knew the art of telling a story
+well, at least, and was often to be seen with a group around him in the
+lobbies of Congress.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+About five o'clock that afternoon Ephraim was sitting in his shirt-
+sleeves by the window of his room, and Cynthia was reading aloud to him
+an article (about the war, of course) from a Washington paper, which his
+friend, Mr. Beard, had sent him.  There was a knock at the door, and
+Cynthia opened it to discover a colored hall-boy with a roll in his hand.
+
+"Mistah Ephum Prescott?" he said.
+
+"Yes," answered Ephraim, "that's me."
+
+Cynthia shut the door and gave him the roll, but Ephraim took it as
+though he were afraid of its contents.
+
+"Guess it's some of them war records from Amasy," he said.
+
+"Oh, Cousin Eph," exclaimed Cynthia, excitedly, "why don't you open it?
+If you don't I will."
+
+"Guess you'd better, Cynthy," and he held it out to her with a trembling
+hand.
+
+Cynthia did open it, and drew out a large document with seals and
+printing and signatures.
+
+"Cousin Eph," she cried, holding it under his nose, "Cousin Eph, you're
+postmaster of Brampton!"
+
+Ephraim looked at the paper, but his eyes swam, and he could only make
+out a dancidg, bronze seal.
+
+"I want to know!" he exclaimed.  "Fetch Jethro."
+
+But Cynthia had already flown on that errand.  Curiously enough, she ran
+into Jethro in the hall immediately outside of Ephraim's door.  Ephraim
+got to his feet; it was very difficult for him to realize that his
+troubles were ended, that he was to earn his living at last.  He looked
+at Jethro, and his eyes filled with tears. "I guess I can't thank you as
+I'd ought to, Jethro," he said, "leastways, not now."
+
+"I'll thank him for you, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia.  And she did.
+
+"D-don't thank me," said Jethro, "I didn't have much to do with it,
+Eph. Thank the President."
+
+Ephraim did thank the President, in one of the most remarkable letters,
+from a literary point of view, ever received at the White House.  For the
+art of literature largely consists in belief in what one is writing, and
+Ephraim's letter had this quality of sincerity, and no lack of vividness
+as well.  He spent most of the evening in composing it.
+
+Cynthia, too, had received a letter that day--a letter which she had read
+several times, now with a smile, and again with a pucker of the forehead
+which was meant for a frown.  "Dear Cynthia," it said.  "Where do you
+keep yourself?  I am sure you would not be so cruel if you knew that I
+was aching to see you."  Aching!  Cynthia repeated the word, and
+remembered the glimpse she had had of him in the dining room with Miss
+Janet Duncan.  "Whenever I have been free" (Cynthia repeated this also,
+somewhat ironically, although she conceded it the merit of frankness),
+"Whenever I have been free, I have haunted the corridors for a sight of
+you.  Think of me as haunting the hotel desk for an answer to this,
+telling me when I can see you--and where.  P.S.  I shall be around all
+evening."  And it was signed, "Your friend and playmate, R. Worthington."
+
+It is a fact--not generally known--that Cynthia did answer the letter--
+twice.  But she sent neither answer.  Even at that age she was given to
+reflection, and much as she may have approved of the spirit of the
+letter, she liked the tone of it less.  Cynthia did not know a great deal
+of the world, it is true, but the felt instinctively that something was
+wrong when Bob resorted to such means of communication.  And she was
+positively relieved, or  thought that she was, when she went down to
+supper and discovered that the table in the corner was empty.
+
+After supper Ephraim had his letter to write, and Jethro wished to sit in
+the corridor.  But Cynthia had learned that the corridor was not the
+place for a girl, so she explained--to Jethro that he would find her in
+the parlor if be wanted her, and that she was going there to read.  That
+parlor Cynthia thought a handsome room, with its high windows and lace
+curtains, its long mirrors and marble-topped tables.  She established
+herself under a light, on a sofa in one corner, and sat, with the book on
+her lap watching the people who came and went.  She had that delicious
+sensation which comes to the young when they first travel--the sensation
+of being a part of the great world; and she wished that she knew these
+people, and which were the great, and which the little ones.  Some of
+them looked at her intently, she thought too intently, and at such times
+she pretended to read.  She was aroused by hearing some one saying:--
+ "Isn't this Miss Wetherell?"
+
+Cynthia looked up and caught her breath, for the young lady who had
+spoken was none other than Miss Janet Duncan herself.  Seen thus
+startlingly at close range, Miss Duncan was not at all like what Cynthia
+had expected--but then most people are not.  Janet Duncan was, in fact,
+one of those strange persons who do not realize the picture which their
+names summon up.  She was undoubtedly good-looking; her hair, of a more
+golden red than her brother's, was really wonderful; her neck was
+slender; and she had a strange, dreamy face that fascinated Cynthia, who
+had never seen anything like it.
+
+She put down her book on the sofa and got up, not without a little tremor
+at this unexpected encounter.
+
+"Yes, I'm Cynthia Wetherell," she replied.
+
+To add to her embarrassment, Miss Duncan seized both her hands
+impulsively and gazed into her face.
+
+"You're really very beautiful," she said.  "Do you know it?"
+
+Cynthia's only answer to this was a blush.  She wondered if all city
+girls were like Miss Duncan.
+
+"I was determined to come up and speak to you the first chance I had,"
+Janet continued.  "I've been making up stories about you."
+
+"Stories!" exclaimed Cynthia, drawing away her hands.
+
+"Romances," said Miss Duncan--"real romances.  Sometimes I think I'm
+going to be a novelist, because I'm always weaving stories about people
+that I see people who interest me, I mean.  And you look as if you might
+be the heroine of a wonderful romance."
+
+Cynthia's breath was now quite taken away.
+
+"Oh," she said, "I--had never thought that I looked like that."
+
+"But you do," said Miss Duncan; "you've got all sorts of possibilities in
+your face--you look as if you might have lived for ages."
+
+"As old as that?" exclaimed Cynthia, really startled.
+
+"Perhaps I don't express myself very well" said the other, hastily; "I
+wish you could see what I've written about you already.  I can do it so
+much better with pen and ink.  I've started quite a romance already."
+
+"What is it?" asked Cynthia, not without interest.
+
+"Sit down on the sofa and I'll tell you," said Miss Duncan; "I've done it
+all from your face, too.  I've made you a very poor girl brought up by
+peasants, only you are really of a great family, although nobody knows
+it.  A rich duke sees you one day when he is hunting and falls in love
+with you, and you have to stand a lot of suffering and persecution
+because of it, and say nothing.  I believe you could do that," added
+Janet, looking critically at Cynthia's face.
+
+"I suppose I could if I had to," said Cynthia, "but I shouldn't like it."
+
+"Oh, it would do you good," said Janet; "it would ennoble your character.
+Not that it needs it," she added hastily.  "And I could write another
+story about that quaint old man who paid the musicians to go away, and
+who made us all laugh so much."
+
+Cynthia's eye kindled.
+
+"Mr. Bass isn't a quaint old man," she said; "he's the greatest man in
+the state."
+
+Miss Duncan's patronage had been of an unconscious kind.  She knew that
+she had offended, but did not quite realize how.
+
+"I'm so sorry," she cried, "I didn't mean to hurt you.  You live with
+him, don't you--Coniston?"
+
+"Yes," replied Cynthia, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
+
+"I've heard about Coniston.  It must be quite a romance in itself to live
+all the year round in such a beautiful place and to make your own
+clothes.  Yours become you very well," said Miss Duncan, "although I
+don't know why.  They're not at all in style, and yet they give you quite
+an air of distinction.  I wish I could live in Coniston for a year,
+anyway, and write a book about you.  My brother and Bob Worthington went
+out there one night and serenaded you, didn't they?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia, that peculiar flash coming into her eyes again, "and
+I think it was very foolish of them."
+
+"Do you?" exclaimed Miss Duncan, in surprise; "I wish somebody would
+serenade me.  I think it was the most romantic thing Bob ever did.  He's
+wild about you, and so is Somers they have both told me so in
+confidence."
+
+Cynthia's face was naturally burning now.
+
+"If it were true," she said, "they wouldn't have told you about it."
+
+"I suppose that's so," said Miss Duncan, thoughtfully, "only you're very
+clever to have seen it.  Now that I know you, I think you a more
+remarkable person than ever.  You don't seem at all like a country girl,
+and you don't talk like one."
+
+Cynthia laughed outright.  She could not help liking Janet Duncan, mere
+flesh and blood not being proof against such compliments.
+
+"I suppose it's because my father was an educated man," she said; "he
+taught me to read and speak when I was young."
+
+"Why, you are just like a person out of a novel!  Who was your father?"
+
+"He kept the store at Coniston," answered Cynthia, smiling a little
+sadly.  She would have liked to have added that William Wetherell would
+have been a great man if he had had health, but she found it difficult to
+give out confidences, especially when they were in the nature of
+surmises.
+
+"Well," said Janet, stoutly, "I think that is more like a story than
+ever.  Do you know," she continued, "I saw you once at the state capital
+outside of our grounds the day Bob ran after you.  That was when I was in
+love with him.  We had just come back from Europe then, and I thought he
+was the most wonderful person I had ever seen."
+
+If Cynthia had felt any emotion from this disclosure, she did not betray
+it.  Janet, moreover, was not looking for it.
+
+"What made you change your mind?" asked Cynthia, biting her lip.
+
+"Oh, Bob hasn't the temperament," said Janet, making use of a word that
+she had just discovered; "he's too practical--he never does or says the
+things you want him to.  He's just been out West with us on a trip, and
+he was always looking at locomotives and brakes and grades and bridges
+and all such tiresome things.  I should like to marry a poet," said Miss
+Duncan, dreamily; "I know they want me to marry Bob, and Mr. Worthington
+wants it.  I'm sure, of that.  But he wouldn't at all suit me."
+
+If Cynthia had been able to exercise an equal freedom of speech, she
+might have been impelled to inquire what young Mr. Worthington's views
+were in the matter.  As it was, she could think of nothing appropriate to
+say, and just then four people entered the room and came towards them.
+Two of these were Janet's mother and father, and the other two were Mr.
+Worthington, the elder, and the Honorable Heth Sutton.  Mrs. Duncan, whom
+Janet did not at all resemble was a person who naturally commanded
+attention.  She had strong features, and a very decided, though not
+disagreeable, manner.
+
+"I couldn't imagine what had become of you, Janet," she said, coming
+forward and throwing off her lace shawl.  "Whom have you found--a school
+friend?"
+
+"No, Mamma," said Janet, "this is Cynthia Wetherell."  "Oh," said Mrs.
+Duncan, looking very hard at Cynthia in a near-sighted way, and, not
+knowing in the least who she was; "you haven't seen Senator and Mrs.
+Meade, have you, Janet?  They were to be here at eight o'clock."
+
+"No," said Janet, turning again to Cynthia and scarcely hearing the
+question.
+
+"Janet hasn't seen them, Dudley," said Mrs. Duncan, going up to Mr.
+Worthington, who was pulling his chop whiskers by the door.  "Janet has
+discovered such a beautiful creature," she went on, in a voice which she
+did not take the trouble to lower.  "Do look at her, Alexander.  And you,
+Mr. Sutton--who are such a bureau of useful information, do tell me who
+she is.  Perhaps she comes from your part of the country--her name's
+Wetherell."
+
+"Wetherell?  Why, of course I know her," said Mr. Sutton, who was greatly
+pleased because Mrs. Duncan had likened him to an almanac: greatly
+pleased this evening in every respect, and even the diamond in his bosom
+seemed to glow with a brighter fire.  He could afford to be generous to-
+night, and he turned to Mr. Worthington and laughed knowingly.  "She's
+the ward of our friend Jethro," he explained.
+
+"What is she?" demanded Mrs. Duncan, who knew and cared nothing about
+politics, a country girl, I suppose."
+
+"Yes," replied Mr. Sutton, "a country girl from a little village not far
+from Clovelly.  A good girl, I believe, in spite of the atmosphere in
+which she has been raised."
+
+"It's really wonderful, Mr. Sutton, how you seem to know every one in
+your district, including the women and children," said the lady; "but I
+suppose you wouldn't be where you are if you didn't."
+
+The Honorable Heth cleared his throat.
+
+"Wetherell," Mr. Duncan was saying, staring at Cynthia through his
+spectacles, "where have I heard that name?"
+
+He must suddenly have remembered, and recalled also that he and his ally
+Worthington had been on opposite sides in the Woodchuck Session, for he
+sat down abruptly beside the door, and remained there for a while.  For
+Mr. Duncan had never believed Mr. Merrill's explanation concerning poor
+William Wetherell' s conduct.
+
+"Pretty, ain't she?" said Mr. Sutton to Mr. Worthington.  "Guess she's
+more dangerous than Jethro, now that we've clipped his wings a little."
+The congressman had heard of Bob's infatuation.
+
+Isaac D. Worthington, however, was in a good humor this evening and was
+moved by a certain curiosity to inspect the girl.  Though what he had
+seen and heard of his son's conduct with her had annoyed him, he did not
+regard it seriously.
+
+"Aren't you going to speak to your constituent, Mr. Sutton?"  said Mrs.
+Duncan, who was bored because her friends had not arrived; "a congressman
+ought to keep on the right side of the pretty girls, you know."
+
+It hadn't occurred to the Honorable Heth to speak to his constituent.
+The ways of Mrs. Duncan sometimes puzzled him, and he could not see why
+that lady and her daughter seemed to take more than a passing interest in
+the girl.  But if they could afford to notice her, certainly he could; so
+he went forward graciously and held out his hand to Cynthia; interrupting
+Miss Duncan in the middle of a discourse upon her diary.
+
+"How do you do, Cynthia?" said Mr. Sutton.  Had he been in Coniston, he
+would have said, "How be you?"
+
+Cynthia took the hand, but did not rise, somewhat to Mr. Sutton's
+annoyance.  A certain respect was due to a member of Congress and the
+Rajah of Clovelly.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Sutton?" said Cynthia, very coolly.
+
+"I like her," remarked Mrs. Duncan to Mr. Worthington.
+
+"This is a splendid trip for you, eh, Cynthia?"  Mr. Sutton persisted,
+with a praiseworthy determination to be pleasant.
+
+"It has turned out to be so, Mr. Sutton," replied Cynthia.  This was not
+precisely the answer Mr. Sutton expected, and to tell the truth, he
+didn't know quite what to make of it.
+
+"A great treat to see Washington and New York, isn't it?" said Mr.
+Sutton, kindly, "a great treat for a Coniston girl.  I suppose you came
+through New York and saw the sights?"
+
+"Is there another way to get to Washington?" asked Cynthia.
+
+Mrs. Duncan nudged Mr. Worthington and drew a little nearer, while Mr.
+Sutton began to wish he had not been lured into the conversation.
+Cynthia had been very polite, but there was something in the quiet manner
+in which the girl's eyes were fixed upon him that made him vaguely
+uneasy.  He could not back out with dignity, and he felt himself on the
+verge of becoming voluble.  Mr. Sutton prided himself on never being
+voluble.
+
+"Why, no," he answered, "we have to go to New York to get anywhere in
+these days."  There was a slight pause.  "Uncle Jethro taking you and Mr.
+Prescott on a little pleasure trip?"  He had not meant to mention
+Jethro's name, but he found himself, to his surprise, a little at a loss
+for a subject.
+
+"Well, partly a pleasure trip.  It's always a pleasure for Uncle Jethro
+to do things for others," said Cynthia, quietly, "although people do not
+always appreciate what he does for them."
+
+The Honorable Heth coughed.  He was now very uncomfortable, indeed.  How
+much did this astounding young person know, whom he had thought so
+innocent?
+
+"I didn't discover he was in town until I ran across him in the corridor
+this evening.  Should have liked to have introduced him to some of the
+Washington folks--some of the big men, although not many of 'em are
+here," Mr. Sutton ran on, not caring to notice the little points of light
+in Cynthia's eyes.  (The idea of Mr. Sutton introducing Uncle Jethro to
+anybody!) "I haven't seen Ephraim Prescott.  It must be a great treat for
+him, too, to get away on a little trip and see his army friends.  How is
+he?"
+
+"He's very happy," said Cynthia.
+
+"Happy!" exclaimed Mr. Sutton.  "Oh, yes, of course, Ephraim's always
+happy, in spite of his troubles and his rheumatism.  I always liked
+Ephraim Prescott."
+
+Cynthia did not answer this remark at all, and Mr. Sutton suspected
+strongly that she did not believe it, therefore he repeated it.
+
+"I always liked Ephraim.  I want you to tell Jethro that I'm downright
+sorry I couldn't get him that Brampton postmastership."
+
+"I'll tell him that you are sorry, Mr. Sutton," replied Cynthia, gravely,
+"but I don't think it'll do any good."
+
+Not do any good!--What did the girl mean?  Mr. Sutton came to the
+conclusion that he had been condescending enough, that somehow he was
+gaining no merit in Mrs. Duncan's eyes by this kindness to a constituent.
+He buttoned up his coat rather grandly.
+
+"I hope you won't misunderstand me, Cynthia," he said.  "I regret
+extremely that my sense of justice demanded that I should make David
+Wheelock postmaster at Brampton, and I have made him so."
+
+It was now Cynthia's turn to be amazed.
+
+"But," she exclaimed, "but Cousin Ephraim is postmaster of Brampton."
+
+Mr. Sutton started violently, and that part of his face not hidden by his
+whiskers seemed to pale, and Mr: Worthington, usually self-possessed,
+took a step forward and seized him by the arm.
+
+"What does this mean, Sutton?" he said.
+
+Mr. Sutton pulled himself together, and glared at Cynthia.
+
+"I think you are mistaken," said he, "the congressman of the district
+usually arranges these matters, and the appointment will be sent to Mr.
+Wheelock to-morrow."
+
+"But Cousin Ephraim already has the appointment," said Cynthia; "it was
+sent to him this afternoon, and he is up in his room now writing to thank
+the President for it."
+
+"What in the world's the matter?" cried Mrs. Duncan, in astonishment.
+
+Cynthia's simple announcement had indeed caused something of a panic
+among the gentlemen present.  Mr. Duncan had jumped up from his seat
+beside the door, and Mr. Worthington, his face anything but impassive,
+tightened his hold on the congressman's arm.
+
+"Good God, Sutton!" he exclaimed, "can this be true?"
+
+As for Cynthia, she was no less astonished than Mrs. Duncan.  by the fact
+that these rich and powerful gentlemen were so excited over a little
+thing like the postmastership of Brampton.  But Mr. Sutton laughed; it
+was not hearty, but still it might have passed muster for a laugh.
+
+"Nonsense," he exclaimed, making a fair attempt to regain his composure,
+"the girl's got it mixed up with something else--she doesn't know what
+she's talking about."
+
+Mrs. Duncan thought the girl did look uncommonly as if she knew what she
+was talking about, and Mr. Duncan and Mr. Worthington had some such
+impression, too, as they stared at her.  Cynthia's eyes flashed, but her
+voice was no louder than before.
+
+"I am used to being believed, Mr. Sutton," she said, "but here's Uncle
+Jethro himself.  You might ask him."
+
+They all turned in amazement, and one, at least, in trepidation, to
+perceive Jethro Bass standing behind them with his hands in his pockets,
+as unconcerned as though he were under the butternut tree in Coniston.
+
+"How be you, Heth?" he said.  "Er--still got that appointment
+p-practically in your pocket?"
+
+"Uncle Jethro," said Cynthia, "Mr. Sutton does not believe me when I tell
+him that Cousin Ephraim has been made postmaster of Brampton.  He would
+like to have you tell him whether it is so or not."
+
+But this, as it happened, was exactly what the Honorable Heth did not
+want to have Jethro tell him.  How he got out of the parlor of the
+Willard House he has not to this day a very clear idea.  As a matter of
+fact, he followed Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan, and they made their
+exit by the farther door.  Jethro did not appear to take any notice of
+their departure.
+
+"Janet," said Mrs. Duncan, "I think Senator and Mrs. Meade must have gone
+to our sitting room."  Then, to Cynthia's surprise, the lady took her by
+the hand.  "I can't imagine what you've done, my dear," she said
+pleasantly, "but I believe that you are capable of taking care of
+yourself, and I like you."
+
+Thus it will be seen that Mrs. Duncan was an independent person. Sometimes
+heiresses are apt to be.
+
+"And I like you, too," said Janet, taking both of Cynthia's hands, "and I
+hope to see you very, very often."
+
+Jethro looked after them.
+
+"Er--the women folks seem to have some sense," he said.  Then he turned
+to Cynthia.  "B-be'n havin' some fun with Heth, Cynthy?" he inquired.
+
+"I haven't any respect for Mr. Sutton," said Cynthia, indignantly; "it
+serves him right for presuming to think that he could give a post-office
+to any one."
+
+Jethro made no remark concerning this presumption on the part of the
+congressman of the district.  Cynthia's indignation against Mr. Sutton
+was very real, and it was some time before she could compose herself
+sufficiently to tell Jethro what had happened.  His enjoyment as he
+listened may be imagined but presently he forgot this, and became aware
+that something really troubled her.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she asked suddenly, "why do they treat me as they do?"
+
+He did not answer at once.  This was because of a pain around his heart--
+had she known it.  He had felt that pain before.
+
+"H-how do they treat you, Cynthy?"
+
+She hesitated.  She had not yet learned to use the word patronize in the
+social sense, and she was at a loss to describe the attitude of Mrs.
+Duncan and her daughter, though her instinct had registered it.  She was
+at a loss to account for Mr. Worthington's attitude, too.  Mr. Sutton's
+she bitterly resented.
+
+"Are they your enemies?" she demanded.
+
+Jethro was in real distress.
+
+"If they are," she continued, "I won't speak to them again.  If they
+can't treat me as--as your daughter ought to be treated, I'll turn my
+back on them.  I am--I am just like your daughter--am I not, Uncle
+Jethro?"
+
+He put out his hand and seized hers roughly, and his voice was thick with
+suffering.
+
+"Yes, Cynthy," he said, "you--you're all I've got in the world."
+
+She squeezed his hand in return.
+
+"I know it, Uncle Jethro," she cried contritely, "I oughtn't to have
+troubled you by asking.  You--you have done everything for me, much more
+than I deserve.  And I shan't be hurt after this when people are too
+small to appreciate how good you are, and how great."
+
+The pain tightened about Jethro's heart--tightened so sharply that he
+could not speak, and scarcely breathe because of it.  Cynthia picked up
+her novel, and set the bookmark.
+
+"Now that Cousin Eph is provided for, let's go back to Coniston, Uncle
+Jethro."  A sudden longing was upon her for the peaceful life in the
+shelter of the great ridge, and she thought of the village maples all red
+and gold with the magic touch of the frosts.  "Not that I haven't enjoyed
+my trip," she added; "but we are so happy there."
+
+He did not look at her, because he was afraid to.
+
+"C-Cynthy," he said, after a little pause, "th-thought we'd go to
+Boston."
+
+"Boston, Uncle Jethro!"
+
+"Er--to-morrow--at one--to-morrow--like to go to Boston?"
+
+"Yes," she said thoughtfully, "I remember parts of it.  The Common, where
+I used to walk with Daddy, and the funny old streets that went uphill.
+It will be nice to go back to Coniston that way--over Truro Pass in the
+train."
+
+That night a piece of news flashed over the wires to New England, and the
+next morning a small item appeared in the Newcastle Guardian to the
+effect that one Ephraim Prescott had bean appointed postmaster at
+Brampton.  Copied in the local papers of the state, it caused some
+surprise in Brampton, to be sure, and excitement in Coniston.  Perhaps
+there were but a dozen men, however, who saw its real significance,
+who knew through this item that Jethro Bass was still supreme--
+that the railroads had failed to carry this first position in their
+war against him.
+
+It was with a light heart the next morning that Cynthia, packed the
+little leather trunk which had been her father's.  Ephraim was in the
+corridor regaling his friend, Mr. Beard, with that wonderful encounter
+with General Grant which sounded so much like a Fifth Reader anecdote of
+a chance meeting with royalty. Jethro's room was full of visiting
+politicians.  So Cynthia, when she had finished her packing, went out to
+walk about the streets alone, scanning the people who passed her, looking
+at the big houses, and wondering who lived in them.  Presently she found
+herself, in the middle of the morning, seated on a bench in a little
+park, surrounded by colored mammies and children playing in the paths.
+It seemed a long time since she had left the hills, and this glimpse of
+cities had given her many things to think and dream about.  Would she
+always live in Coniston?  Or was her future to be cast among those who
+moved in the world and helped to sway it?  Cynthia felt that she was to
+be of these, though she could not reason why, and she told herself that
+the feeling was foolish.  Perhaps it was that she knew in the bottom of
+her heart that she had been given a spirit and intelligence to cope with
+a larger life than that of Coniston.  With a sense that such imaginings
+were vain, she tried to think what the would do if she were to become a
+great lady like Mrs. Duncan.
+
+She was aroused from these reflections by a distant glimpse, through the
+trees, of Mr. Robert Worthington.  He was standing quite alone on the
+edge of the park, his hands in his pockets, staring at the White House.
+Cynthia half rose, and then sat down and looked at him again.  He wore a
+light gray, loose-fitting suit and a straw hat, and she could not but
+acknowledge that there was something stalwart and clean and altogether
+appealing in him.  She wondered, indeed, why he now failed to appeal to
+Miss Duncan, and she began to doubt the sincerity of that young lady's
+statements.  Bob certainly was not romantic, but he was a man--or would
+be very soon.
+
+Cynthia sat still, although her impulse was to go away.  She scarcely
+analyzed her feeling of wishing to avoid him.  It may not be well,
+indeed, to analyze them on paper too closely.  She had an instinct that
+only pain could come from frequent meetings, and she knew now what but a
+week ago was a surmise, that he belonged to the world of which she had
+been dreaming--Mrs. Duncan's world.  Again, there was that mysterious
+barrier between them of which she had seen so many evidences.  And yet
+she sat still on her bench and looked at him.
+
+Presently he turned, slowly, as if her eyes had compelled his.  She sat
+still--it was too late, then.  In less than a minute he was standing
+beside her, looking down at her with a smile that had in it a touch of
+reproach.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Worthington?" said Cynthia, quietly.
+
+"Mr. Worthington!" he cried, "you haven't called me that before."
+We are not children any more," she said.
+
+"What difference does that make?"
+
+"A great deal," said Cynthia, not caring to define it.
+
+"Cynthia," said Mr. Worthington, sitting down on the beach and facing
+her, "do you think you've treated me just right?"
+
+"Of course I do," she said, "or I should have treated you differently."
+
+Bob ignored such quibbling.
+
+"Why did you run away from that baseball game in Brampton?  And why
+couldn't you have answered my letter yesterday, if it were only a line?
+And why have you avoided me here in Washington?"
+
+It is very difficult to answer for another questions which one cannot
+answer for one's self.
+
+"I haven't avoided you," said Cynthia.
+
+"I've been looking for you all over town this morning," said Bob, with
+pardonable exaggeration, "and I believe that idiot Somers has, too."
+
+"Then why should you call him an idiot?" Cynthia flashed.
+
+Bob laughed.
+
+"How you do catch a fellow up!" said he; admiringly.  "We both found out
+you'd gone out for a walk alone."
+
+"How did you find it out?"
+
+"Well," said Bob, hesitating, "we asked the colored doorkeeper."
+
+"Mr. Worthington," said Cynthia, with an indignation that made him quail,
+"do you think it right to ask a doorkeeper to spy on my movements?"
+
+"I'm sorry, Cynthia," he gasped, "I--I didn't think of it that way--and
+he won't tell.  Desperate cases require desperate remedies, you know."
+
+But Cynthia was not appeased.
+
+"If you wanted to see me," she said, "why didn't you send your card to my
+room, and I would have come to the parlor."
+
+"But I did send a note, and waited around all day."
+
+How was she to tell him that it was to the tone of the note she objected
+--to the hint of a clandestine meeting?  She turned the light of her eyes
+full upon him.
+
+"Would you have been content to see me in the parlor?" she asked.  "Did
+you mean to see me there?"
+
+"Why, yes," said he; "I would have given my head to see you anywhere,
+only--"
+
+"Only what?"
+
+"Duncan might have came in and spoiled it."
+
+"Spoiled what?"
+
+Bob fidgeted.
+
+"Look here, Cynthia," he said, "you're not stupid--far from it.  Of
+course you know a fellow would rather talk to you alone."
+
+"I should have been very glad to have seen Mr. Duncan, too."
+
+"You would, would you!" he exclaimed.  "I shouldn't have thought that."
+
+"Isn't he your friend?" asked Cynthia.
+
+"Oh, yes," said Bob, "and one of the best in the world.  Only--I
+shouldn't have thought you'd care to talk to him."  And he looked around"
+for fear the vigilant Mr. Duncan was already in the park and had
+discovered them.  Cynthia smiled, and immediately became grave again.
+
+"So it was only on Mr. Duncan's account that you didn't ask me to come
+down to the parlor?" she said.
+
+Bob was in a quandary.  He was a truthful person, and he had learned
+something of the world through his three years at Cambridge.  He had seen
+many young women, and many kinds of them.  But the girl beside him was
+such a mixture of innocence and astuteness that he was wholly at a loss
+how to deal with her--how to parry her searching questions.
+
+"Naturally--I wanted to have you all to myself," he said; "you ought to
+know that."
+
+Cynthia did not commit herself on this point.  She wished to go
+mercilessly to the root of the matter, but the notion of what this would
+imply prevented her.  Bob took advantage of her silence.
+
+"Everybody who sees you falls a victim, Cynthia," he went on; "Mrs.
+Duncan and Janet lost their hearts.  You ought to have heard them
+praising you at breakfast."  He paused abruptly, thinking of the rest of
+that conversation, and laughed.  Bob seemed fated to commit himself that
+day.  "I heard the way you handled Heth Sutton," he said, plunging in.
+"I'll bet he felt as if he'd been dropped out of the third-story window,"
+and Bob laughed again.  "I'd have given a thousand dollars to have been
+there.  Somers and I went out to supper with a classmate who lives in
+Washington, in that house over there," and he pointed casually to one of
+the imposing mansions fronting on the park.  "Mrs. Duncan said she'd never
+heard anybody lay it on the way you did.  I
+don't believe you half know what happened, Cynthia.  You made a ten-
+strike."
+
+"A ten-strike?" she repeated.
+
+"Well," he said, "you not only laid out Heth, but my father and Mr.
+Duncan, too.  Mrs. Duncan laughed at 'em--she isn't afraid of anything.
+But they didn't say a word all through breakfast.  I've never seen my
+father so mad.  He ought to have known better than to run up against
+Uncle Jethro."
+
+"How did they run up against Uncle Jethro?" asked Cynthia, now keenly
+interested.
+
+"Don't you know?" exclaimed Bob, in astonishment.
+
+"No," said Cynthia, "or I shouldn't have asked."
+
+"Didn't Uncle Jethro tell you about it?"
+
+"He never tells me anything about his affairs," she answered.
+
+Bob's astonishment did not wear off at once.  Here was a new phase, and
+he was very hard put.  He had heard, casually, a good deal of abuse of
+Jethro and his methods in the last two days.
+
+"Well," he said, "I don't know anything about politics.  I don't know
+myself why father and Mr. Duncan were so eager for this post-mastership.
+But they were.  And I heard them say something about the President going
+back on them when they had telegraphed from Chicago and come to see him
+here.  And maybe they didn't let Heth in for it.  It seems Uncle Jethro
+only had to walk up to the White House.  They ought to have sense enough
+to know that he runs the state.  But what's the use of wasting time over
+this business?" said Bob.  "I told you I was going to Brampton before the
+term begins just to see you, didn't I?"
+
+"Yes, but I didn't believe you," said Cynthia.
+
+"Why not?" he demanded.
+
+"Because it's my nature, I suppose," she replied.
+
+This was too much for Bob, exasperated though he was, and he burst into
+laughter.
+
+"You're the queerest girl I've ever known," he said.
+
+Not a very original remark.
+
+"That must be saying a great deal," she answered.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You must have known many."
+
+"I have," he admitted, "and none of 'em, no matter how much they'd
+knocked about, were able to look out for themselves any better than you."
+
+"Not even Cassandra Hopkins?" Cynthia could not resist saying.  She saw
+that she had scored; his expressions registered his sensations so
+accurately.
+
+"What do you know about her?" he said.
+
+"Oh," said Cynthia, mysteriously, "I heard that you were very fond of her
+at Andover."
+
+Bob could not help pluming himself a little.  He thought the fact that
+she had mentioned the matter a flaw in Cynthia's armor, as indeed it was.
+And yet he was not proud of the Cassandra Hopkins episode in his career.
+
+"Cassandra is one of the institutions at Andover," said he; "most fellows
+have to take a course in Cassandra to complete their education."
+
+"Yours seems to be very complete," Cynthia retorted.
+
+"Great Scott!" he exclaimed, looking at her, "no wonder you made mince-
+meat of the Honorable Heth.  Where did you learn it all, Cynthia?"
+
+Cynthia did not know.  She merely wondered where she would be if she
+hadn't learned it.  Something told her that if it were not for this
+anchor she would be drifting out to sea: might, indeed, soon be drifting
+out to sea in spite of it.  It was one thing for Mr. Robert Worthington,
+with his numerous resources, to amuse himself with a girl in her
+position; it would be quite another thing for the girl.  She got to her
+feet and held out her hand to him.
+
+"Good-by," she said.
+
+"Good-by?"
+
+"We are leaving Washington at one o'clock, and Uncle Jethro will be
+worried if I am not in time for dinner."
+
+"Leaving at one!  That's the worst luck I've had yet.  But I'm going back
+to the hotel myself."
+
+Cynthia didn't see how she was to prevent him walking with her.  She
+would not have admitted to herself that she had enjoyed this encounter,
+since she was trying so hard not to enjoy it.  So they started together
+out of the park.  Bob, for a wonder, was silent awhile, glancing now and
+then at her profile.  He knew that he had a great deal to say, but he
+couldn't decide exactly what it was to be.  This is often the case with
+young men in his state of mind: in fact, to be paradoxical again, he
+might hardly be said at this time to have had a state of mind.  He lacked
+both an attitude and a policy.
+
+"If you see Duncan before I do, let me know," he remarked finally.
+
+Cynthia bit her lip.  "Why should I?" she asked.
+
+"Because we've only got five minutes more alone together, at best.  If we
+see him in time, we can go down a side street."
+
+"I think it would be hard to get away from Mr. Duncan if we met him--even
+if we wanted to," she said, laughing outright.
+
+"You don't know how true that is," he replied, with feeling.
+
+"That sounds as though you'd tried it before."
+
+He paid no attention to this thrust.
+
+"I shan't see you again till I get to Brampton," he said; "that will be a
+whole week.  And then," he ventured to look at her, "I shan't see you
+until the Christmas holidays.  You might be a little kind, Cynthia.  You
+know I've--I've always thought the world of you.  I don't know how I'm
+going to get through the three months without seeing you."
+
+"You managed to get through a good many years," said Cynthia, looking at
+the pavement.
+
+"I know," he said; "I was sent away to school and college, and our lives
+separated."
+
+"Yes, our lives separated," she assented.
+
+"And I didn't know you were going to be like--like this," he went on,
+vaguely enough, but with feeling.
+
+"Like what?"
+
+"Like--well, I'd rather be with you and talk to you than any girl I ever
+saw.  I don't care who she is," Bob declared, "or how much she may have
+traveled."  He was running into deep water.  "Why are you so cold,
+Cynthia?"  "Why can't you be as you used to be?  You used to like me
+well enough."
+
+"And I like you now," answered Cynthia.  They were very near the hotel by
+this time.
+
+"You talk as if you were ten years older than I," he said, smiling
+plaintively.
+
+She stopped and turned to him, smiling.  They had reached the steps.
+
+"I believe I am, Bob," she replied.  "I haven't seen much of the world,
+but I've seen something of its troubles.  Don't be foolish.  If you're
+coming to Brampton just to see me, don't come.  Good-by."  And she gave
+him her hand frankly.
+
+"But I will come to Brampton," he cried, taking her hand and squeezing
+it.  "I'd like to know why I shouldn't come."
+
+As Cynthia drew her hand away a gentleman came out of the hotel, paused
+for a brief moment by the door and stared at them, and then passed on
+without a word or a nod of recognition.  It was Mr. Worthington.  Bob
+looked after his father, and then glanced at Cynthia.  There was a trifle
+more color in her cheeks, and her head was raised a little, and her eyes
+were fixed upon him gravely.
+
+"You should know why not," she said, and before he could answer her she
+was gone into the hotel.  He did not attempt to follow her, but stood
+where she had left him in the sunlight.
+
+He was aroused by the voice of the genial colored doorkeeper.
+
+"Wal, suh, you found the lady, Mistah Wo'thington.  Thought you would,
+suh.  T'other young gentleman come in while ago--looked as if he was
+feelin' powerful bad, Mistah Wo'thington."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+When they reached Boston, Cynthia felt almost as if she were home again,
+and Ephraim declared that he had had the same feeling when he returned
+from the war.  Though it be the prosperous capital of New England, it is
+a city of homes, and the dwellers of it have held stanchly to the belief
+of their forefathers that the home is the very foundation-rock of the
+nation.  Held stanchly to other beliefs, too: that wealth carries with it
+some little measure of responsibility.  The stranger within the gates of
+that city feels that if he falls, a heedless world will not go charging
+over his body: that a helping hand will be stretched out,--a helping and
+a wise hand that will inquire into the circumstances of his fall--but
+still a human hand.
+
+They were sitting in the parlor of the Tremont House that morning with
+the sun streaming in the windows, waiting for Ephraim.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," Cynthia asked, abruptly, "did you ever know my mother?"
+
+Jethro started, and looked at her quickly.
+
+"W-why, Cynthy?" he asked.
+
+"Because she grew up in Coniston," answered Cynthia.  "I never thought of
+it before, but of course you must have known her."
+
+"Yes, I knew her," he said.
+
+"Did you know her well?" she persisted.
+
+Jethro got up and went over to the window, where he stood with his back
+toward her.
+
+"Yes, Cynthy," he answered at length.
+
+"Why haven't you ever told me about her?" asked Cynthia.  How was she to
+know that her innocent questions tortured him cruelly; that the spirit of
+the Cynthia who had come to him in the tannery house had haunted him all
+his life, and that she herself, a new Cynthia, was still that spirit? The
+bygone Cynthia had been much in his thoughts since they came to
+Boston.
+
+"What was she like?"
+
+"She--she was like you, Cynthy," he said, but he did not turn round.
+"She was a clever woman, and a good woman, and--a lady, Cynthy."
+
+The girl said nothing for a while, but she tingled with pleasure because
+Jethro had compared her to her mother.  She determined to try to be like
+that, if he thought her so.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said presently, "I'd like to go to see the house
+where she lived."
+
+"Er--Ephraim knows it," said Jethro.
+
+So when Ephraim came the three went over the hill; past the State House
+which Bulfinch set as a crown on the crest of it looking over the sweep
+of the Common, and on into the maze of quaint, old-world streets on the
+slope beyond: streets with white porticos, and violet panes in the
+windows.  They came to an old square hidden away on a terrace of the
+hill, and after that the streets grew narrower and dingier.  Ephraim,
+whose memory never betrayed him, hobbled up to a shabby house in the
+middle of one of these blocks and rang the bell.
+
+"Here's where I found Will when I come back from the war," he said, and
+explained the matter in full to the slatternly landlady who came to the
+door.  She was a good-natured woman, who thought her boarder would not
+mind, and led the way up the steep stairs to the chamber over the roofs
+where Wetherell and Cynthia had lived and hoped and worked together;
+where he had written those pages by which, with the aid of her loving
+criticism, he had thought to become famous.  The room was as bare now as
+it had been then, and Ephraim, poking his stick through a hole in the
+carpet, ventured the assertion that even that had not been changed. Jethro,
+staring out over the chimney tops, passed his hand across his
+eyes.  Cynthia Ware had come to this!
+
+"I found him right here in that bed," Ephraim was saying, and he poked
+the bottom boards, too.  "The same bed.  Had a shack when I saw him.
+Callate he wouldn't have lived two months if the war hadn't bust up
+and I hadn't come along."
+
+"Oh, Cousin Eph!" exclaimed Cynthia.
+
+The old soldier turned and saw that there were tears in her eyes.  But,
+stranger than that, Cynthia saw that there were tears in his own.  He
+took her gently by the arm and led her down the stairs again, she
+supporting him, and Jethro following.
+
+That same morning, Jethro, whose memory was quite as good as Ephraim's,
+found a little shop tucked away in Cornhill which had been miraculously
+spared in the advance of prosperity.  Mr. Judson's name, however, was no
+longer in quaint lettering over the door.  Standing before it, Jethro
+told the story in his droll way, of a city clerk and a country bumpkin,
+and Cynthia and Ephraim both laughed so heartily that the people who were
+passing turned round to look at them and laughed too.  For the three were
+an unusual group, even in Boston.  It was not until they were seated at
+dinner in the hotel, Ephraim with his napkin tucked under his chin, that
+Jethro gave them the key to the characters in this story.
+
+"And who was the locket for, Uncle Jethro?" demanded Cynthia.
+
+Jethro, however, shook his head, and would not be induced to tell.
+
+They were still so seated when Cynthia perceived coming toward them
+through the crowded dining roam a merry, middle-aged gentleman with a
+bald head.  He seemed to know everybody in the room, for he was kept busy
+nodding right and left at the tables until he came to theirs.  He was Mr.
+Merrill who had come to see her father in Coniston, and who had spoken so
+kindly to her on that occasion.
+
+"Well, well, well," he said; "Jethro, you'll be the death of me yet.
+'Don't write-send,' eh?  Well, as long as you sent word you were here, I
+don't complain.  So you licked 'em again, eh--down in Washington?  Never
+had a doubt but what you would.  Is this the new postmaster?  How are
+you, Mr. Prescott--and Cynthia--a young lady!  Bless my soul," said Mr.
+Merrill, looking her over as he shook her hand.  "What have you done to
+her, Jethro?  What kind of beauty powder do they use in Coniston?"
+
+Mr. Merrill took the seat next to her and continued to talk, scattering
+his pleasantries equally among the three, patting her arm when her own
+turn came.  She liked Mr. Merrill very much; he seemed to her (as,
+indeed, he was) honest and kind-hearted.  Cynthia was not lacking in a
+proper appreciation of herself--that may have been discovered.  But she
+was puzzled to know why this gentleman should make it a point to pay such
+particular attention to a young country girl.  Other railroad presidents
+whom she could name had not done so.  She was thinking of these things,
+rather than listening to Mr. Merrill's conversation, when the sound of
+Mr. Worthington's name startled her.
+
+"Well, Jethro," Mr. Merrill was saying, "you certainly nipped this little
+game of Worthington's in the bud.  Thought he'd take you in the rear by
+going to Washington, did he?  Ha, ha!  I'd like to know how you did it.
+I'll get you to tell me to-night--see if I don't.  You're all coming in
+to supper to-night, you know, at seven o'clock."
+
+Ephraim laid down his knife and fork for the first time.  Were the
+wonders of this journey never to cease?  And Jethro, once in his life,
+looked nervous.
+
+"Er--er--Cyn'thy'll go, Steve--Cynthy'll go."
+
+"Yes, Cynthy'll go," laughed Mr. Merrill, "and you'll go, and Ephraim'll
+go."  Although he by no means liked everybody, as would appear at first
+glance, Mr. Merrill had a way of calling people by their first names when
+he did fancy them.
+
+"Er--Steve," said Jethro, "what would your wife say if I was to drink
+coffee out of my saucer?"
+
+"Let's see," said Mr. Merrill grave for once.  "What's the punishment for
+that in my house?  I know what she'd do if you didn't drink it.  What do
+you think she'd do, Cynthy?"
+
+"Ask him what was the matter with it," said Cynthia, promptly.
+
+"Well, Cynthy," said he, "I know why these old fellows take you round
+with 'em.  To take care of 'em, eh?  They're not fit to travel alone."
+
+And so it was settled, after much further argument, that they were all to
+sup at Mr. Merrill's house, Cynthia stoutly maintaining that she would
+not desert them.  And then Mr. Merrill, having several times repeated the
+street and number, went, back to his office.  There was much mysterious
+whispering between Ephraim and Jethro in the hotel parlor after dinner,
+while Cynthia was turning over the leaves of a magazine, and then Ephraim
+proposed going out to see the sights.
+
+"Where's Uncle Jethro going?" she asked.
+
+"He'll meet us," said Ephraim, promptly, but his voice was not quite
+steady.
+
+"Oh, Uncle Jethro!" cried Cynthia, "you're trying to get out of it.  You
+remember you promised to meet us in Washington."
+
+"Guess he'll keep this app'intment," said Ephraim, who seemed to be full
+of a strange mirth that bubbled over, for he actually winked at Jethro.
+  Cynthia's mind flew to Bunker Bill and the old North Church, but they
+went first to Faneuil Hall.  Presently they found themselves among the
+crowd in Washington Street, where Ephraim confessed the trepidation which
+he felt over the coming supper party: a trepidation greater, so he
+declared many times, than he had ever experienced before any of his
+battles in the war.  He stopped once or twice in the eddy of the crowd to
+glance up at the numbers; and finally came to a halt before the windows
+of a large dry-goods store.
+
+"I guess I ought to buy a new shirt for this occasion, Cynthy," he said,
+staring hard at the articles of apparel displayed there: "Let's go in."
+
+Cynthia laughed outright, since Ephraim could not by any chance have worn
+any of the articles in question.
+
+"Why, Cousin Ephraim," she exclaimed, "you can't buy gentlemen's things
+here."
+
+"Oh, I guess you can," said Ephraim, and hobbled confidently in  at the
+doorway.  There we will leave him for a while conversing in an undertone
+with a floor-walker, and follow Jethro.  He, curiously enough, had some
+fifteen minutes before gone in at the same doorway, questioned the same
+floor-walker, and he found himself in due time walking amongst a
+bewildering lot of models on the third floor, followed by a giggling
+saleswoman.
+
+"What kind of a dress do you want, sir?" asked the saleslady,--for we are
+impelled to call her so.
+
+"S-silk cloth," said Jethro.
+
+"What shades of silk would you like, sir?"
+
+"Shades? shades?  What do you mean by shades?"
+
+"Why, colors," said the saleslady, giggling openly.
+
+"Green," said Jethro, with considerable emphasis.
+
+The saleslady clapped her hand over her mouth and led the way to another
+model.
+
+"You don't call that green--do you?  That's not green enough."
+
+They inspected another dress, and then another and another,--not all of
+them were green,--Jethro expressing very decided if not expert views on
+each of them.  At last he paused before two models at the far end of the
+room, passing his hand repeatedly over each as he had done so often with
+the cattle of Coniston.
+
+"These two pieces same kind of goods?" he demanded.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Er-this one is a little shinier than that one?"
+
+"Perhaps the finish is a little higher," ventured the saleslady.
+
+"Sh-shinier," said Jethro.
+
+"Yes, shinier, if you please to call it so."
+
+"W-what would you call it?"
+
+By this time the saleslady had become quite hysterical, and altogether
+incapable of performing her duties.  Jethro looked at her for a moment in
+disgust, and in his predicament cast around for another to wait on him.
+There was no lack of these, at a safe distance, but they all seemed to be
+affected by the same mania.  Jethro's eye alighted upon the back of
+another customer.  She was, apparently, a respectable-looking lady of
+uncertain age, and her own attention was so firmly fixed in the
+contemplation of a model that she had not remarked the merriment about
+her, nor its cause.  She did not see Jethro, either, as he strode across
+to her.  Indeed, her first intimation of his presence was a dig in her
+arm.  The lady turned, gave a gasp of amazement at the figure confronting
+her, and proceeded to annihilate it with an eye that few women possess.
+
+"H-how do, Ma'am," he said.  Had he known anything about the appearance
+of women in general, he might have realized that he had struck a tartar.
+This lady was at least sixty-five, and probably unmarried.  Her face,
+though not at all unpleasant, was a study in character-development: she
+wore ringlets, a peculiar bonnet of a bygone age, and her clothes had
+certain eccentricities which, for, lack of knowledge, must be omitted.
+In short, the lady was no fool, and not being one she glanced at the
+giggling group of saleswomen and--wonderful to relate--they stopped
+giggling.  Then she looked again at Jethro and gave him a smile.
+One of superiority, no doubt, but still a smile.
+
+"How do you do, sir?"
+
+"T-trying to buy a silk cloth gown for a woman.  There's two over here I
+fancied a little.  Er--thought perhaps you'd help me."
+
+"Where are the dresses?" she demanded abruptly.
+
+Jethro led the way in silence until they came to the models.  She planted
+herself in front of them and looked them over swiftly but critically.
+
+"What is the age of the lady?"
+
+"W-what difference does that make?" said Jethro, whose instinct was
+against committing himself to strangers.
+
+"Difference!" she exclaimed sharply, "it makes a considerable difference.
+Perhaps not to you, but to the lady.  What coloring is she?"
+
+"C-coloring?  She's white."
+
+His companion turned her back on him.
+
+"What size is she?"
+
+"A-about that size," said Jethro, pointing to a model.
+
+"About! about!" she ejaculated, and then she faced him.  "Now look here,
+my friend," she said vigorously, "there's something very mysterious about
+all this.  You look like a good man, but you may be a very wicked one for
+all I know.  I've lived long enough to discover that appearances,
+especially where your sex is concerned, are deceitful.  Unless you are
+willing to tell me who this lady is for whom you are buying silk dresses,
+and what your relationship is to her, I shall leave you.  And mind, no
+evasions.  I can detect the truth pretty well when I hear it."
+
+Unexpected as it was, Jethro gave back a step or two before this
+onslaught of feminine virtue, and the movement did not tend to raise him
+in the lady's esteem.  He felt that he would rather face General Grant a
+thousand times than this person.  She was, indeed, preparing to sweep
+away when there came a familiar tap-tap behind them on the bare floor,
+and he turned to behold Ephraim hobbling toward them with the aid of his
+green umbrella, Cynthia by his side.
+
+"Why, it's Uncle Jethro," cried Cynthia, looking at him and the lady in
+astonishment, and then with equal astonishment at the models.  "What in
+the world are you doing here?"  Then a light seemed to dawn on her.
+
+"You frauds!  So this is what you were whispering about!  This is the way
+Cousin Ephraim buys his shirts!"
+
+"C-Cynthy," said Jethro, apologetically, "d-don't you think you ought to
+have a nice city dress for that supper party?"
+
+"So you're ashamed of my country clothes, are you?" she asked gayly.
+
+"W-want you to have the best, Cynthy," he replied.  "I-I-meant to have it
+all chose and bought when you come, but I got into a kind of argument
+with this lady."
+
+"Argument!" exclaimed the lady.  But she did not seem displeased.  She
+had been staring very fixedly at Cynthia.  "My dear," she continued
+kindly, "you look like some one I used to know a long, long time ago, and
+I'll be glad to help you.  Your uncle may be sensible enough in other
+matters, but I tell him frankly he is out of place here.  Let him go away
+and sit down somewhere with the other gentleman, and we'll get the dress
+between us, if he'll tell us how much to pay."
+
+"P-pay anything, so's you get it," said Jethro.
+
+"Uncle Jethro, do you really want it so much?"
+
+It must not be thought that Cynthia did not wish for a dress, too.  But
+the sense of dependence on Jethro and the fear of straining his purse
+never quite wore off.  So Jethro and Ephraim took to a bench at some
+distance, and at last a dress was chosen--not one of the gorgeous models
+Jethro had picked out, but a pretty, simple, girlish gown which Cynthia
+herself had liked and of which the lady highly approved.  Not content
+with helping to choose it, the lady must satisfy herself that it fit,
+which it did perfectly.  And so Cynthia was transformed into a city
+person, though her skin glowed with a health with which few city people
+are blessed.
+
+"My dear," said the lady, still staring at her, "you look very well.  I
+should scarcely have supposed it."  Cynthia took the remark in good part,
+for she thought the lady a character, which she was.  "I hope you will
+remember that we women were created for a higher purpose than mere
+beauty.  The Lord gave us brains, and meant that we should use them.  If
+you have a good mind, as I believe you have, learn to employ it for the
+betterment of your sex, for the time of our emancipation is at hand."
+Having delivered this little lecture, the lady continued to stare at her
+with keen eyes.  "You look very much like someone I used to love when I
+was younger.  What is your name."
+
+"Cynthia Wetherell."
+
+"Cynthia Wetherell?  Was your mother Cynthia Ware, from Coniston?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia, amazed.
+
+In an instant the strange lady had risen and had taken Cynthia in her
+embrace, new dress and all.
+
+"My dear," she said, "I thought your face had a familiar look.  It was
+your mother I knew and loved.  I'm Miss Lucretia Penniman."
+
+Miss Lucretia Penniman!  Could this be, indeed, the authoress of the
+"Hymn to Coniston," of whom Brampton was so proud?  The Miss Lucretia
+Penniman who sounded the first clarion note for the independence of
+American women, the friend of Bryant and Hawthorne and Longfellow?
+Cynthia had indeed heard of her.  Did not all Brampton point to the
+house which had held the Social Library as to a shrine?
+
+"Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, "I have a meeting now of a girls' charity
+to which I must go, but you will come to me at the offices of the Woman's
+Hour to-morrow morning at ten.  I wish to talk to you about your mother
+and yourself."
+
+Cynthia promised, provided they did not leave for Coniston earlier, and
+in that event agreed to write.  Whereupon Miss Lucretia kissed her again
+and hurried off to her meeting.  On the way back to the Tremont House
+Cynthia related excitedly the whole circumstance to Jethro and Ephraim.
+Ephraim had heard of Miss Lucretia, of course.  Who had not?  But he did
+not read the Woman's Hour.  Jethro was silent.  Perhaps he was thinking
+of that fresh summer morning, so long ago, when a girl in a gig had
+overtaken him in the canon made by the Brampton road through the woods.
+The girl had worn a poke bonnet, and was returning a book to this same
+Miss Lucretia Penniman's Social Library.  And the book was the "Life of
+Napoleon Bonaparte."
+
+"Uncle Jethro, shall we still be in Boston to-morrow morning?"  Cynthia
+asked.
+
+He roused himself. "Yes," he said, "yes." "When are you going home?"
+
+He did not answer this simple question, but countered.  "Hain't you
+enjoyin' yourself, Cynthy?"
+
+"Of course I am," she declared.  But she thought it strange that he would
+not tell her when they would be in Coniston.
+
+Ephraim did buy a new shirt, and also (in view of the postmastership in
+his packet) a new necktie, his old one being slightly frayed.
+
+The grandeur of the approaching supper party and the fear of Mrs. Merrill
+hung very heavy over him; nor was Jethro's mind completely at rest.
+Ephraim even went so far as to discuss the question as to whether
+Mr. Merrill had not surpassed his authority in inviting him, and full
+expected to be met at the door by that gentleman uttering profuse
+apologies, which Ephraim was quite prepared and willing to take in good
+faith.
+
+Nothing of the kind happened, however.  Mr. Merrill's railroad being a
+modest one, his house was modest likewise.  But Ephraim thought it grand
+enough, and yet acknowledged a homelike quality in its grandeur.  He
+began by sitting on the edge of the sofa and staring at the cut-glass
+chandelier, but in five minutes he discovered with a shock of surprise
+that he was actually leaning back, describing in detail how his regiment
+had been cheered as they marched through Boston.  And incredible as it
+may seem, the person whom he was entertaining in this manner was Mrs.
+Stephen Merrill herself.  Mrs. Merrill was as tall as Mr. Merrill was
+short.  She wore a black satin dress with a big cameo brooch pinned at
+her throat, her hair was gray, and her face almost masculine until it
+lighted up with a wonderfully sweet smile.  That smile made Ephraim and
+Jethro feel at home; and Cynthia, too, who liked Mrs. Merrill the moment
+she laid eyes on her.
+
+Then there were the daughters, Jane and Susan, who welcomed her with a
+hospitality truly amazing for city people.  Jane was big-boned like her
+mother, but Susan was short and plump and merry like her father.  Susan
+talked and laughed, and Jane sat and listened and smiled, and Cynthia
+could not decide which she liked the best.  And presently they all went
+into the dining room to supper, where there was another chandelier over
+the table.  There was also real silver, which shone brilliantly on the
+white cloth--but there was nothing to eat.
+
+"Do tell us another story, Mr. Prescott," said Susan, who had listened to
+his last one.
+
+The sight of the table, however, had for the moment upset Ephraim, "Get
+Jethro to tell you how he took dinner with Jedge Binney," he said.
+
+This suggestion, under the circumstances, might not have been a happy
+one, but its lack of appropriateness did not strike Jethro either.  He
+yielded to the demand.
+
+"Well," he said, "I supposed I was goin' to set down same as I would at
+home, where we put the vittles on the table.  W-wondered what I was goin'
+to eat--wahn't nothin' but a piece of bread on the table.  S-sat there
+and watched 'em--nobody ate anything.  Presently I found out that
+Binney's wife ran her house same as they run hotels.  Pretty soon a
+couple of girls come in and put down some food and took it away again
+before you had a chance.  A-after a while we had coffee, and when I set
+my cup on the table, I noticed Mis' Binney looked kind of cross and began
+whisperin' to the girls.  One of 'em fetched a small plate and took my
+cup and set it on the plate.  That was all right.  I used the plate.
+
+"Well, along about next summer Binney had to come to Coniston to see me
+on a little matter and fetched his wife.  Listy, my wife, was alive then.
+I'd made up my mind that if I could ever get Mis' Binney to eat at my
+place I would, so I asked 'em to stay to dinner.  When we set down, I
+said: 'Now, Mis' Binney, you and the Judge take right hold, and anything
+you can't reach, speak out and we'll wait on you.' And Mis' Binney?'
+
+"Yes," she said.  She was a little mite scared, I guess.  B-begun to
+suspect somethin'."
+
+"Mis' Binney," said I, "y-you can set your cup and sarcer where you've a
+mind to.' O-ought to have heard the Judge laugh.  Says he to his wife:
+'Fanny, I told you Jethro'd get even with you some time for that sarcer
+business.'"
+
+This story, strange as it may seem, had a great success at Mr. Merrill's
+table.  Mr. Merrill and his daughter Susan shrieked with laughter when it
+was finished, while Mrs. Merrill and Jane enjoyed themselves quite as
+much in their quiet way.  Even the two neat Irish maids, who were serving
+the supper very much as poor Mis' Binney's had been served, were fain to
+leave the dining room abruptly, and one of them disgraced herself at
+sight of Jethro when she came in again, and had to go out once mare. Mrs.
+Merrill insisted that Jethro should pour out his coffee in what she
+was pleased to call the old-fashioned way.  All of which goes to prove
+that table-silver and cut glass chandeliers do not invariably make their
+owners heartless and inhospitable.  And Ephraim, whose plan of campaign
+had been to eat nothing to speak of and have a meal when he got back to
+the hotel, found that he wasn't hungry when he arose from the table.
+
+There was much bantering of Jethro by Mr. Merrill, which the ladies did
+not understand--talk of a mighty coalition of the big railroads which was
+to swallow up the little railroads.  Fortunately, said Mr. Merrill,
+humorously, fortunately they did not want his railroad.  Or
+unfortunately, which was it?  Jethro didn't know.  He never laughed at
+anybody's jokes.  But Cynthia, who was listening with one ear while Susan
+talked into the other, gathered that Jethro had been struggling with the
+railroads, and was sooner or later to engage in a mightier struggle with
+them.  How, she asked herself in her innocence, was any one, even Uncle
+Jethro, to struggle with a railroad?  Many other people in these latter
+days have asked themselves that very question.
+
+All together the evening at Mr. Merrill's passed off so quickly and so
+happily that Ephraim was dismayed when he discovered that it was ten
+o'clock, and he began to make elaborate apologies to the ladies.  But
+Jethro and Mr. Merrill were still closeted together in the dining room:
+once Mrs. Merrill had been called to that conference, and had returned
+after a while to take her place quietly again among the circle of
+Ephraim's listeners.  Now Mr. Merrill came out of the dining room alone.
+
+"Cynthia," he said, and his tone was a little more grave than usual,
+"your Uncle Jethro wants to speak to you."
+
+Cynthia rose, with a sense of something in the air which concerned her,
+and went into the dining room.  Was it the light falling from above that
+brought out the lines of his face so strongly?  Cynthia did not know, but
+she crossed the room swiftly and sat down beside him.
+
+"What is it, Uncle Jethro?"
+
+"C-Cynthy," he said, putting his hand over hers on the table, "I want you
+to do something for me er--for me," he repeated, emphasizing the last
+word.
+
+"I'll do anything in the world for you, Uncle Jethro," she answered; "you
+know that.  What--what is it?"
+
+"L-like Mr. Merrill, don't you?" "Yes, indeed."
+
+"L-like Mrs. Merrill--like the gals--don't you?" "Very much," said Cynthia,
+perplexedly.
+
+"Like 'em enough to--to live with 'em a winter?"
+
+"Live with them a winter!"
+
+"C-Cynthy, I want you should stay in Boston this winter and go to a young
+ladies' school."
+
+It was out.  He had said it, though he never quite knew where he had
+found the courage.
+
+"Uncle Jethro!" she cried.  She could only look at him in dismay, but the
+tears came into her eyes and sparkled.
+
+"You--you'll be happy here, Cynthy.  It'll be a change for you. And I
+shan't be so lonesome as you'd think.  I'll--I'll be busy this winter,
+Cynthy."
+
+"You know that I wouldn't leave you, Uncle Jethro," she said
+reproachfully.  "I should be lonesome, if you wouldn't.  You would be
+lonesome--you know you would be."
+
+"You'll do this for me, Cynthy.  S-said you would, didn't you--said you
+would?"
+
+"Why do you want me to do this?"
+
+"W-want you to go to school for a winter, Cynthy.  Shouldn't think I'd
+done right by you if I didn't."
+
+"But I have been to school.  Daddy taught me a lot, and Mr. Satterlee has
+taught me a great deal more.  I know as much as most girls of my age, and
+I will study so hard in Coniston this winter, if that is what you want.
+I've never neglected my lessons, Uncle Jethro."
+
+"Tain't book-larnin'--'tain't what you'd get in book larnin' in Boston,
+Cynthy."
+
+"What, then?" she asked.
+
+"Well," said Jethro, "they'd teach you to be a lady, Cynthy."
+
+"A lady!"
+
+"Your father come of good people, and--and your mother was a lady.  I'm
+only a rough old man, Cynthy, and I don't know much about the ways of
+fine folks.  But you've got it in ye, and I want you should be equal to
+the best of 'em: You can.  And I shouldn't die content unless I'd felt
+that you'd had the chance.  Er--Cynthy--will you do it for me?"
+
+She was silent a long while before she turned to him, and then the tears
+were running very swiftly down her cheeks.
+
+"Yes, I will do it for you," she answered.  "Uncle Jethro, I believe you
+are the best man, in the world."
+
+"D-don't say that, Cynthy--d-don't say that," he exclaimed, and a sharp
+agony was in his voice.  He got to his feet and went to the folding doors
+and opened them.  "Steve!" he called, "Steve!"
+
+"S-says she'll stay, Steve."
+
+Mr. Merrill had come in, followed by his wife.  Cynthia saw them but
+dimly through her tears.  And while she tried to wipe the tears away she
+felt Mrs. Merrill's arm about her, and heard that lady say:--
+ "We'll try to make you very happy, my dear, and send you back safely in
+the spring."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+An attempt will be made in these pages to set down such incidents which
+alone may be vital to this chronicle, now so swiftly running on.  The
+reasons why Mr. Merrill was willing to take Cynthia into his house must
+certainly be clear to the reader.  In the first place, he was under very
+heavy obligations to Jethro Bass for many favors; in the second place,
+Mr. Merrill had a real affection for Jethro, which, strange as it may
+seem to some, was quite possible; and in the third place, Mr. Merrill had
+taken a fancy to Cynthia, and he had never forgotten the unintentional
+wrong he had done William Wetherell.  Mr. Merrill was a man of impulses,
+and generally of good impulses.  Had he not himself urged upon Jethro the
+arrangement, it would never have come about.  Lastly, he had invited
+Cynthia to his house that his wife might inspect her, and Mrs. Merrill's
+verdict had been instant and favorable--a verdict not given in words.  A
+single glance was sufficient, for these good people so understood each
+other that Mrs. Merrill had only to raise her eyes to her husband's, and
+this she did shortly after the supper party began; while she was pouring
+the coffee, to be exact.  Thus the compact that Cynthia was to spend the
+winter in their house was ratified.
+
+There was, first of all, the parting with Jethro and the messages with
+which he and Ephraim were laden for the whole village and town of
+Coniston.  It was very hard, that parting, and need not be dwelt upon.
+Ephraim waved his blue handkerchief as the train pulled out, but Jethro
+stood on the platform, silent and motionless: more eloquent in his
+sorrow--so Mr. Merrill thought--than any human being he had ever known.
+Mr. Merrill wondered if Jethro's sorrow were caused by this parting
+alone; he believed it was not, and suddenly guessed at the true note of
+it.  Having come by chance upon the answer to the riddle, Mr. Merrill
+stood still with his hand on the carriage door and marvelled that he had
+not seen it all sooner.  He was a man to take to heart the troubles of
+his friends.  A subtle change had indeed come over Jethro, and he was not
+the same man Mr. Merrill had known for many years.  Would others, the men
+with whom Jethro contended and the men he commanded, mark this change?
+And what effect would it have on the conflict for the mastery of a state
+which was to be waged from now on?
+
+"Father," said his daughter Susan, "if you don't get in and close the
+door, we'll drive off and leave you standing on the sidewalk."
+
+Thus Cynthia went to her new friends in their own carriage.  Mrs. Merrill
+was goodness itself, and loved the girl for what she was.  How, indeed,
+was she to help loving her?  Cynthia was scrupulous in her efforts to
+give no trouble, and yet she never had the air of a dependent or a
+beneficiary; but held her head high, and when called upon gave an opinion
+as though she had a right to it.  The very first morning Susan, who was
+prone to be late to breakfast, came down in a great state of excitement
+and laughter.
+
+"What do you think Cynthia's done, Mother?" she cried.  "I went into her
+room a while ago, and it was all swept and aired, and she was making up
+the bed."
+
+"That's an excellent plan," said Mrs. Merrill, "tomorrow morning you
+three girls will have a race to see who makes up her room first."
+
+It is needless to say that the race at bed-making never came off, Susan
+and Jane having pushed Cynthia into a corner as soon as breakfast was
+over, and made certain forcible representations which she felt bound to
+respect, and a treaty was drawn up and faithfully carried out, between
+the three, that she was to do her own room if necessary to her happiness.
+The chief gainer by the arrangement was the chambermaid.
+
+Odd as it may seem, the Misses Merrill lived amicably enough with
+Cynthia.  It is a difficult matter to force an account of the
+relationship of five people living in one house into a few pages, but the
+fact that the Merrills had large hearts makes this simpler.  There are
+few families who can accept with ease the introduction of a stranger into
+their midst, even for a time, and there are fewer strangers who can with
+impunity be introduced.  The sisters quarrelled among themselves as all
+sisters will, and sometimes quarrelled with Cynthia.  But oftener they
+made her the arbiter of their disputes, and asked her advice on certain
+matters.  Especially was this true of Susan, whom certain young gentlemen
+from Harvard College called upon more or less frequently, and Cynthia had
+all of Susan's love affairs--including the current one--by heart in a
+very short time.
+
+As for Cynthia, there were many subjects on which she had to take the
+advice of the sisters.  They did not criticise the joint creations of
+herself and Miss Sukey Kittredge as frankly as Janet Duncan had done; but
+Jethro had left in Mrs. Merrill's hands a certain sufficient sum for new
+dresses for Cynthia, and in due time the dresses were got and worn.  To
+do them justice, the sisters were really sincere in their rejoicings over
+the very wonderful transformation which they had been chiefly
+instrumental in effecting.
+
+It is not a difficult task to praise a heroine, and one that should be
+indulged in but charily.  But let some little indulgence be accorded this
+particular heroine by reason of the life she had led, and the situation
+in which she now found herself: a poor Coniston girl, dependent on one
+who was not her father, though she loved him as a father; beholden to
+these good people who dwelt in a world into which she had no reasonable
+expectations of entering, and which, to tell the truth, she now feared.
+
+It was inevitable that Cynthia should be brought into contact with many
+friends and relations of the family.  Some of these noticed and admired
+her; others did neither; others gossiped about Mrs. Merrill behind her
+back at her own dinners and sewing circles and wondered what folly could
+have induced her to bring the girl into her house.  But Mrs. Merrill,
+like many generous people who do not stop to calculate a kindness, was
+always severely criticised.
+
+And then there were Jane's and Susan's friends, in and out of Miss
+Sadler's school.  For Mrs. Merrill's influence had been sufficient to
+induce Miss Sadler to take Cynthia as a day scholar with her own
+daughters.  This, be it known, was a great concession on the part of Miss
+Sadler, who regarded Cynthia's credentials as dubious enough; and her
+young ladies were inclined to regard them so, likewise.  Some of these
+young ladies came from other cities,--New York and Philadelphia and
+elsewhere,--and their fathers and mothers were usually people to be
+mentioned as a matter of course--were, indeed, frequently so mentioned by
+Miss Sadler, especially when a visitor called at the school.
+
+"Isabel, I saw that your mother sailed for Europe yesterday," or, "Sally,
+your father tells me he is building a gallery for his collection."  Then
+to the visitor, "You know the Broke house in Washington Square, of
+course."
+
+Of course the visitor did.  But Sally or Isabel would often imitate Miss
+Sadler behind her back, showing how well they understood her
+snobbishness.
+
+Miss Sadler was by no means the type which we have come to recognize in
+the cartoons as the Boston school ma'am.  She was a little, round person
+with thin lips and a sharp nose all out of character with her roundness,
+and bright eyes like a bird's.  To do her justice, so far as instruction
+went, her scholars were equally well cared for, whether they hailed from
+Washington Square or Washington Court House.  There were, indeed, none
+from such rural sorts of places--except Cynthia.  But Miss Sadler did not
+take her hand on the opening day--or afterward--and ask her about Uncle
+Jethro.  Oh, no.  Miss Sadler had no interest for great men who did not
+sail for Europe or add picture galleries on to their houses.  Cynthia
+laughed, a little bitterly, perhaps, at the thought of a picture gallery
+being added to the tannery house.  And she told herself stoutly that
+Uncle Jethro was a greater man than any of the others, even if Miss
+Sadler did not see fit to mention him.  So she had her first taste of a
+kind of wormwood that is very common in the world though it did not grow
+in Coniston.
+
+For a while after Cynthia's introduction to the school she was calmly
+ignored by many of the young ladies there, and once openly--snubbed, to
+use the word in its most disagreeable sense.  Not that she gave any of
+them any real cause to snub her.  She did not intrude her own affairs
+upon them, but she was used to conversing kindly with the people about
+her as equals, and for this offence; on the third day, Miss Sally Broke
+snubbed her.  It is hard not to make a heroine of Cynthia, not to be able
+to relate that she instantly put Miss Sally's nose out of joint.  Susan
+Merrill tried to do that, and failed signally, for Miss Sally's nose was
+not easily dislodged.  Susan fought more than one of Cynthia's battles.
+As a matter of fact, Cynthia did not know that she had been affronted
+until that evening.  She did not tell her friends how she spent the night
+yearning fiercely for Coniston and Uncle Jethro, at times weeping for
+them, if the truth be told; how she had risen before the dawn to write a
+letter, and to lay some things in the rawhide trunk.  The letter was
+never sent, and the packing never finished.  Uncle Jethro wished her to
+stay and to learn to be a lady, and stay she would, in spite of Miss
+Broke and the rest of them.  She went to school the next day, and for
+many days and weeks thereafter, and held communion with the few alone who
+chose to treat her pleasantly.  Unquestionably this is making a heroine
+of Cynthia.
+
+If young men are cruel in their schools, what shall be written of young
+women?  It would be better to say that both are thoughtless.  Miss Sally
+Broke, strange as it may seem, had a heart, and many of the other young
+ladies whose fathers sailed for Europe and owned picture galleries; but
+these young ladies were absorbed, especially after vacation, in affairs
+of which a girl from Coniston had no part.  Their friends were not her
+friends, their amusements not her amusements, and their talk not her
+talk.  But Cynthia watched them, as was her duty, and gradually absorbed
+many things which are useful if not essential--outward observances of
+which the world takes cognizance, and which she had been sent there by
+Uncle Jethro to learn.  Young people of Cynthia's type and nationality
+are the most adaptable in the world.
+
+Before the December snows set in Cynthia had made one firm friend, at
+least, in Boston; outside of the Merrill family.  That friend was Miss
+Lucretia Penniman, editress of the Woman's Hour.  Miss Lucretia lived in
+the queerest and quaintest of the little houses tucked away under the
+hill, with the back door a story higher than the fronts an arrangement
+which in summer enabled the mistress to walk out of her sitting-room
+windows into a little walled garden.  In winter that sitting room was the
+sunniest, cosiest room in the city, and Cynthia spent many hours there,
+reading or listening to the wisdom that fell from the lips of Miss
+Lucretia or her guests.  The sitting room had uneven, yellow-white
+panelling that fairly shone with enamel, mahogany bookcases filled with
+authors who had chosen to comply with Miss Lucretia's somewhat rigorous
+censorship; there was a table laden with such magazines as had to do with
+the uplifting of a sex, a delightful wavy floor covered with a rose
+carpet; and, needless to add, not a pin or a pair of scissors out of
+place in the whole apartment.
+
+There is no intention of enriching these pages with Miss Lucretia's
+homilies.  Their subject-matter may be found in the files of the Woman's
+Hour.  She did not always preach, although many people will not believe
+this statement.  Miss Lucretia, too, had a heart, though she kept it
+hidden away, only to be brought out on occasions when she was sure of its
+appreciation, and she grew strangely interested in this self-contained
+girl from Coniston whose mother she had known.  Miss Lucretia understood
+Cynthia, who also was the kind who kept her heart hidden, the kind who
+conceal their troubles and sufferings because they find it difficult to
+give them out.  So Miss Lucretia had Cynthia to take supper with her at
+least once in the week, and watched her quietly, and let her speak of as
+much of her life as she chose--which was not much, at first.  But Miss
+Lucretia was content to wait, and guessed at many things which Cynthia
+did not tell her, and made some personal effort, unknown to Cynthia, to
+find out other things.  It will be said that she had designs on the girl.
+If so, they were generous designs; and perhaps it was inevitable that
+Miss Lucretia should recognize in every young woman of spirit and brains
+a possible recruit for the cause.
+
+It has now been shown in some manner and as briefly as possible how
+Cynthia's life had changed, and what it had become.  We have got her
+partly through the winter, and find her still dreaming of the sparkling
+snow on Coniston and of the wind whirling it on clear, cold days like
+smoke among the spruces; of Uncle Jethro sitting by his stove through the
+long evenings all alone; of Rias in his store and Moses Hatch and Lem
+Hallowell, and Cousin Ephraim in his new post-office.  Uncle Jethro wrote
+for the first time in his life--letters: short letters, but in his own
+handwriting, and deserving of being read for curiosity's sake if there
+were time.  The wording was queer enough and guarded enough, but they
+were charged with a great affection which clung to them like lavender.
+
+And Cynthia kept them every one, and read them over on such occasions
+when she felt that she could not live another minute out of sight of her
+mountain.
+
+Such was the state of affairs one gray afternoon in December when
+Cynthia, who was sitting in Mrs. Merrill's parlor, suddenly looked up
+from her book to discover that two young men were in the room.  The young
+men were apparently quite as much surprised as she, and the parlor maid
+stood grinning behind them.
+
+"Tell Miss Susan and Miss Jane, Ellen," said Cynthia, preparing to
+depart.  One of the young men she recognized from a photograph on Susan's
+bureau.  He was, for the time being, Susan's.  His name, although it does
+not matter much, was Morton Browne, and he would have been considerably
+astonished if he had guessed how much of his history Cynthia knew.  It
+was Mr. Browne's habit to take Susan for a walk as often as propriety
+permitted, and on such occasions he generally brought along a good-
+natured classmate to take care of Jane.  This, apparently, was one of the
+occasions.  Mr. Browne was tall and dark and generally good-looking,
+while his friends were usually distinguished for their good nature.
+
+Mr. Browne stood between her and the door and looked at her rather fixedly.
+Then he said:--"Excuse me."
+
+A great many friendships, and even love affairs, have been inaugurated by
+just such an opening.
+
+"Certainly," said Cynthia, and tried to pass out.  But Mr. Browne had no
+intention of allowing her to do so if he could help it.
+
+"I hope I am not intruding," he said politely.
+
+"Oh, no," answered Cynthia, wondering how she could get by him.
+
+"Were you waiting for Miss Merrill?"
+
+"Oh, no," said Cynthia again.
+
+The other young man turned his back and became absorbed in the picture of
+a lion getting ready to tear a lady to pieces.  But Mr. Browne was of
+that mettle which is not easily baffled in such matters.  He introduced
+himself, and desired to know whom he had the honor of addressing. Cynthia
+could not but enlighten him.  Mr. Browne was greatly astonished,
+and showed it.
+
+"So you are the mysterious young lady who has been staying here in the
+house this winter," he exclaimed, as though it were a marvellous thing.
+"I have heard Miss Merrill speak of you.  She admires you very much.
+Is it true that you come from--Coniston?"
+
+"Yes," she said.
+
+"Let me see--where is Coniston?" inquired Mr. Browne.
+
+"Do you know where Brampton is?" asked Cynthia.  "Coniston is near
+Brampton."
+
+"Brampton!" exclaimed Mr. Browne, "I have a classmate who comes from
+Brampton--Bob Worthington--You must know Bob, then."
+
+Yes, Cynthia knew Mr. Worthington.
+
+"His father's got a mint of money, they say.  I've been told that old
+Worthington was the whole show up in those parts.  Is that true?"
+
+"Not quite," said Cynthia.
+
+Not quite!  Mr. Morton Browne eyed her in surprise, and from that moment
+she began to have decided possibilities.  Just then Jane and Susan
+entered arrayed for the walk, but Mr. Browne showed himself in no hurry
+to depart: began to speak, indeed, in a deprecating way about the
+weather, appealed to his friend, Mr. King, if it didn't look remarkably
+like rain, or hail, or snow.  Susan sat down, Jane sat down, Mr. Browne
+and his friend prepared to sit down when Cynthia moved toward the door.
+
+"You're not going, Cynthia!" cried Susan, in a voice that may have had a
+little too much eagerness in it.  "You must stay and help us entertain
+Mr. Browne."  (Mr. King, apparently, was not to be entertained.) "We've
+tried so hard to make her come down when people called, Mr. Browne, but
+she never would."
+
+Cynthia was not skilled in the art of making excuses.  She hesitated for
+one, and was lost.  So she sat down, as far from Mr. Browne as possible,
+next to Jane.  In a few minutes Mr. Browne was seated beside her, and how
+he accomplished this manoeuvre Cynthia could not have said, so skilfully
+and gradually was it done.  For lack of a better subject he chose Mr.
+Robert Worthington.  Related, for Cynthia's delectation, several of Bob's
+escapades in his freshman year: silly escapades enough, but very bold and
+daring and original they sounded to Cynthia, who listened (if Mr. Browne
+could have known it) with almost breathless interest, and forgot all
+about poor Susan talking to Mr. King.  Did Mr. Worthington still while
+away his evenings stealing barber poles and being chased around Cambridge
+by irate policemen?  Mr. Browne laughed at the notion.  O dear, no!
+seniors never descended to that.  Had not Miss Wetherell heard the song
+wherein seniors were designated as grave and reverend?  Yes, Miss
+Wetherell had heard the song.  She did not say where, or how.  Mr.
+Worthington, said his classmate, had become very serious-minded this
+year.  Was captain of the base-ball team and already looking toward the
+study of law.
+
+"Study law!" exclaimed Cynthia, "I thought he would go into his father's
+mills."
+
+"Do you know Bob very well?" asked Mr. Browne.
+
+She admitted that she did not.
+
+"He's been away from Brampton a good deal, of course," said Mr. Browne,
+who seemed pleased by her admission.  To do him justice, he would not
+undermine a classmate, although he had other rules of conduct which might
+eventually require a little straightening out.  "Worthy's a first-rate
+fellow, a little quick-tempered, perhaps, and inclined to go his own way.
+He's got a good mind, and he's taken to using it lately.  He has come
+pretty near being suspended once or twice."
+
+Cynthia wanted to ask what "suspended" was.  It sounded rather painful.
+But at this instant there was the rattle of a latch key at the door,
+and Mr. Merrill walked in.
+
+"Well, well," he said, spying Cynthia, "so you have got Cynthia to come
+down and entertain the young men at last."
+
+"Yes," said Susan, "we have got Cynthia to come down at last."
+
+Susan did not go to Cynthia's room that night to chat, as usual, and Mr.
+Morton Browne's photograph was mysteriously removed from the prominent
+position it had occupied.  If Susan had carried out a plan which she
+conceived in a moment of folly of placing that photograph on Cynthia's
+bureau, there would undoubtedly have been a quarrel.  Cynthia's own
+feelings--seeing that Mr. Browne had not dazzled her--were not--enviable.
+
+But she held her peace, which indeed was all she could do, and the next
+time Mr. Browne called, though he took care to mention her name
+particularly at the door, she would not go down to entertain him: though
+Susan implored and Jane appealed, she would not go down.  Mr. Browne
+called several times again, with the same result.  Cynthia was
+inexorable--she would have none of him.  Then Susan forgave her.  There
+was no quarrel, indeed, but there was a reconciliation, which is the best
+part of a quarrel.  There were tears, of Susan's shedding; there was a
+character-sketch of Mr. Browne, of Susan's drawing, and that gentleman
+flitted lightly out of Susan's life.
+
+Some ten days subsequent to this reconciliation Ellen, the parlor maid,
+brought up a card to Cynthia's room.  The card bore the name of Mr.
+Robert Worthington.  Cynthia stared at it, and bent it in her fingers,
+while Ellen explained how the gentleman had begged that she might see
+him.  To tell the truth, Cynthia had wondered more than once why he had
+not come before, and smiled when she thought of all the assurances of
+undying devotion she had heard in Washington.  After all, she reflected,
+why should she not see him--once?  He might give her news of Brampton and
+Coniston.  Thus willingly deceiving herself, she told Ellen that she
+would go down: much to the girl's delight, for Cynthia was a favorite in
+the house.
+
+As she entered the parlor Mr. Worthington was standing in the window.
+When he turned and saw her he started to come forward in his old
+impetuous way, and stopped and looked at her in surprise.  She herself
+did not grasp the reason for this.
+
+"Can it be possible," he said, "can it be possible that this is my friend
+from the country?"  And he took her hand with the greatest formality,
+pressed it the least little bit, and released it.  "How do you do, Miss
+Wetherell?  Do you remember me?"
+
+"How do you do--Bob," she answered, laughing in spite of herself at his
+banter.  "You haven't changed, anyway."
+
+"It was Mr. Worthington in Washington," said he.  "Now it is 'Bob' and
+'Miss Wetherell.'  Rank patronage!  How did you do it, Cynthia?"
+
+"You are like all men," said Cynthia, "you look at the clothes, and not
+the woman.  They are not very fine clothes; but if they were much finer,
+they wouldn't change me."
+
+"Then it must be Miss Sadler."
+
+"Miss Sadler would willingly change me--if she could," said Cynthia, a
+little bitterly.  "How did you find out I was at Miss Sadler's?"
+
+"Morton Browne told me yesterday," said Bob. "I felt like punching his
+head."
+
+"What did he tell you?" she asked with some concern.
+
+"He said that you were here, visiting the Merrills, among other things,
+and said that you knew me."
+
+The "other things" Mr. Browne had said were interesting, but flippant.
+He had seen Bob at a college club and declared that he had met a witch of
+a country girl at the Merrills.  He couldn't make her out, because she
+had refused to see him every time he called again.  He had also repeated
+Cynthia's remark about Bob's father not being quite the biggest man in
+his part of the country, and ventured the surmise that she was the
+daughter of a rival mill owner.
+
+"Why didn't you let me know you were in Boston?" said Bob, reproachfully.
+
+"Why should I?" asked Cynthia, and she could not resist adding, "Didn't
+you find it out when you went to Brampton--to see me?"
+
+"Well," said he, getting fiery red, "the fact is--I didn't go to
+Brampton."
+
+"I'm glad you were sensible enough to take my advice, though I suppose
+that didn't make any difference.  But--from the way you spoke, I should
+have thought nothing could have kept you away."
+
+"To tell you the truth," said Bob, "I'd promised to visit a fellow named
+Broke in my class, who lives in New York.  And I couldn't get out of it.
+His sister, by the way, is in Miss Sadler's.  I suppose you know her.
+But if I'd thought you'd see me, I should have gone to Brampton, anyway.
+You were so down on me in Washington."
+
+"It was very good of you to take the trouble to come to see me here.
+There must be a great many girls in Boston you have to visit."
+
+He caught the little note of coolness in her voice.  Cynthia was asking
+herself whether, if Mr. Browne had not seen fit to give a good report of
+her, he would have come at all.  He would have come, certainly.  It is to
+be hoped that Bob Worthington's attitude up to this time toward Cynthia
+has been sufficiently defined by his conversation and actions.  There had
+been nothing serious about it.  But there can be no question that Mr.
+Browne's openly expressed admiration had enhanced her value in his eyes.
+
+"There's no girl in Boston that I care a rap for," he said.
+
+"I'm relieved to hear it," said Cynthia, with feeling.
+
+"Are you really?"
+
+"Didn't you expect me to be, when you said it?"
+
+He laughed uncomfortably.
+
+"You've learned more than one thing since you've been in the city," he
+remarked, "I suppose there are a good many fellows who come here all the
+time."
+
+"Yes, there are," she said demurely.
+
+"Well," he remarked, "you've changed a lot in three months.  I always
+thought that, if you had a chance, there'd be no telling where you'd end
+up."
+
+"That doesn't sound very complimentary," said Cynthia.  She had, indeed,
+changed.  "In what terrible place do you think I'll end up?"
+
+"I suppose you'll marry one of these Boston men."
+
+"Oh," she laughed, "that wouldn't be so terrible, would it?"
+
+"I believe you're engaged to one of 'em now," he remarked, looking very
+hard at her.
+
+"If you believed that, I don't think you would say it," she answered.
+
+"I can't make you out.  You used to be so frank with me, and now you're
+not at all so.  Are you going to Coniston for the holidays?"
+
+Her face fell at the question.
+
+"Oh, Bob," she cried, surprising him utterly by a glimpse of the real
+Cynthia, "I wish I were--I wish I were!  But I don't dare to."
+
+"Don't dare to?"
+
+"If I went, I should' never come back--never.  I should stay with Uncle
+Jethro.  He's so lonesome up there, and I'm so lonesome down here,
+without him.  And I promised him faithfully I'd stay a whole winter at
+school in Boston."
+
+"Cynthia," said Bob, in a strange voice as he leaned toward her, "do you-
+-do you care for him as much as all that?"
+
+"Care for him?" she repeated.
+
+"Care for--for Uncle Jethro?"
+
+"Of course I care for him," she cried, her eyes flashing at the thought.
+"I love him better than anybody in the world.  Certainly no one ever had
+better reason to care for a person.  My father failed when he came to
+Coniston--he was not meant for business, and Uncle Jethro took care of
+him all his life, and paid his debts.  And he has taken care of me and
+given me everything that a girl could wish.  Very few people know what a
+fine character Uncle Jethro has," continued Cynthia, carried away as she
+was by the pent-up flood of feeling within her.  "I know what he has done
+for others, and I should love him for that even if he never had done
+anything for me."
+
+Bob was silent.  He was, in the first place, utterly amazed at this
+outburst, revealing as it did a depth of passionate feeling in the girl
+which he had never suspected, and which thrilled him.  It was unlike her,
+for she was usually so self-repressed; and, being unlike her, accentuated
+both sides of her character the more.
+
+But what was he to say of the defence of Jethro Bass?  Bob was not a
+young man who had pondered much over the problems of life, because these
+problems had hitherto never touched him.  But now he began to perceive,
+dimly, things that might become the elements of a tragedy, even as Mr.
+Merrill had perceived them some months before.  Could a union endure
+between so delicate a creature as the girl before him and Jethro Bass?
+Could Cynthia ever go back to him again, and live with him happily,
+without seeing many things which before were hidden by reason of her
+youth and innocence?
+
+Bob had not been nearly four years at college without learning something
+of the world; and it had not needed the lecture from his father, which he
+got upon leaving Washington, to inform him of Jethro's political
+practices.  He had argued soundly with his father on that occasion,
+having the courage to ask Mr. Worthington in effect whether he did not
+sanction his underlings to use the same tools as Jethro used.  Mr.
+Worthington was righteously angry, and declared that Jethro had
+inaugurated those practices in the state, and had to be fought with his
+own weapons.  But Mr. Worthington had had the sense at that time not to
+mention Cynthia's name.  He hoped and believed that that affair was not
+serious, and merely a boyish fancy--as indeed it was.
+
+It remains to be said, however, that the lecture had not been without its
+effect upon Bob.  Jethro Bass, after all, was--Jethro Bass.  All his life
+Bob had heard him familiarly and jokingly spoken of as the boss of the
+state, and had listened to the tales, current in all the country towns,
+of how Jethro had outwitted this man or that.  Some of them were not
+refined tales.  Jethro Bass as the boss of the state--with the tolerance
+with which the public in general regard politics--was one thing.  Bob was
+willing to call him "Uncle Jethro," admire his great strength and
+shrewdness, and declare that the men he had outwitted had richly deserved
+it.  But Jethro Bass as the ward of Cynthia Wetherell was quite another
+thing.
+
+It was not only that Cynthia had suddenly and inevitably become a lady.
+That would not have mattered, for such as she would have borne Coniston
+and the life of Coniston cheerfully.  But Bob reflected, as he walked
+back to his rooms in the dark through the snow-laden streets, that
+Cynthia, young though she might be, possessed principles from which no
+love would sway her a hair's breadth.  How, indeed, was she to live with
+Jethro once her eyes were opened?
+
+The thought made him angry, but returned to him persistently during the
+days that followed,--in the lecture room, in the gymnasium, in his own
+study, where he spent more time than formerly.  By these tokens it will
+be perceived that Bob, too, had changed a little.  And the sight of
+Cynthia in Mrs. Merrill's parlor had set him to thinking in a very
+different manner than the sight of her in Washington had affected him.
+Bob had managed to shift the subject from Jethro, not without an effort,
+though he had done it in that merry, careless manner which was so
+characteristic of him.  He had talked of many things,--his college life,
+his friends,--and laughed at her questions about his freshman escapades.
+But when at length, at twilight, he had risen to go, he had taken both
+her hands and looked down into her face with a very different expression
+than she had seen him wear before--a much more serious expression, which
+puzzled her.  It was not the look of a lover, nor yet that of a man who
+imagines himself in love.  With either of these her instinct would have
+told her how to deal.  It was more the look of a friend, with much of the
+masculine spirit of protection in it.
+
+"May I come to see you again?" he asked.
+
+Gently she released her hands, and she did not answer at once.  She went
+to the window, and stared across the sloping street at the grilled
+railing before the big house opposite, thinking.  Her reason told her
+that he should not come, but her spirit rebelled against that reason.  It
+was a pleasure to see him, so she freely admitted to herself.  Why should
+she not have that pleasure?  If the truth be told, she had argued it all
+out before, when she had wondered whether he would come.  Mrs. Merrill,
+she thought, would not object to his coming.  But--there was the question
+she had meant to ask him.
+
+"Bob," she said, turning to him, "Bob, would your father want you to
+come?"
+
+It was growing dark, and she could scarcely see his face.  He hesitated,
+but he did not attempt to evade the question.
+
+"No, he would not," he answered.  And added, with a good deal of force
+and dignity: "I am of age, and can choose my own friends.  I am my own
+master.  If he knew you as I knew you, he would look at the matter in a
+different light."
+
+Cynthia felt that this was not quite true.  She smiled a little sadly.
+
+"I am afraid you don't know me very well, Bob."  He was about to protest,
+but she went on, bravely, "Is it because he has quarrelled with Uncle
+Jethro?"
+
+"Yes," said Bob.  She was making it terribly hard for him, sparing indeed
+neither herself nor him.
+
+"If you come here to see me, it will cause a quarrel between you and your
+father.  I--I cannot do that."
+
+"There is nothing wrong in my seeing you," said Bob, stoutly; "if he
+cares to quarrel with me for that, I cannot help it.  If the people I
+choose for my friends are good people, he has no right to an objection,
+even though he is my father."
+
+Cynthia had never come so near real admiration for him as at that moment.
+
+"No, Bob, you must not come," she said.  "I will not have you quarrel
+with him on my account."
+
+"Then I will quarrel with him on my own account," he had answered.
+"Good-by. You may expect me this day week."
+
+He went into the hall to put on his overcoat.  Cynthia stood still on the
+spot of the carpet where he had left her.  He put his head in at the
+door.
+
+"This day week," he said.
+
+"Bob, you must not come," she answered.  But the street door closed after
+him as he spoke.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+"You must not come."  Had Cynthia made the prohibition strong enough?
+Ought she not to have said, "If you do come, I will not see you?"  Her
+knowledge of the motives of the men and women in the greater world was
+largely confined to that which she had gathered from novels--not trashy
+novels, but those by standard authors of English life.  And many another
+girl of nineteen has taken a novel for a guide when she has been suddenly
+confronted with the first great problem outside of her experience.
+Somebody has declared that there are only seven plots in the world.
+There are many parallels in English literature to Cynthia's position,--so
+far as she was able to define that position,--the wealthy young peer, the
+parson's or physician's daughter, and the worldly, inexorable parents who
+had other plans.
+
+Cynthia was, of course, foolish.  She would not look ahead, yet there was
+the mirage in the sky when she allowed herself to dream.  It can
+truthfully be said that she was not in love with Bob Worthington.  She
+felt, rather than knew, that if love came to her the feeling she had for
+Jethro Bass--strong though that was--would be as nothing to it.  The girl
+felt the intensity of her nature, and shrank from it when her thoughts
+ran that way, for it frightened her.
+
+"Mrs. Merrill" she said, a few days later, when she found herself alone
+with that lady, "you once told me you would have no objection if a friend
+came to see me here."
+
+"None whatever, my dear," answered Mrs. Merrill.  "I have asked you to
+have your friends here."
+
+Mrs. Merrill knew that a young man had called on Cynthia.  The girls had
+discussed the event excitedly, had teased Cynthia about it; they had
+discovered, moreover, that the young man had not been a tiller of the
+soil or a clerk in a country store.  Ellen, with the enthusiasm of her
+race, had painted him in glowing colors--but she had neglected to read
+the name on his card.
+
+"Bob Worthington came to see me last week, and he wants to come again.
+He lives in Brampton," Cynthia explained, "and is at Harvard College."
+
+Mrs. Merrill was decidedly surprised.  She went on with her sewing,
+however, and did not betray the fact.  She knew of Dudley Worthington as
+one of the richest and most important men in his state; she had heard her
+husband speak of him often; but she had never meddled with politics and
+railroad affairs.
+
+"By all means let him come, Cynthia," she replied.
+
+When Mr. Merrill got home that evening she spoke of the matter to him.
+
+"Cynthia is a strange character," she said.  "Sometimes I can't
+understand her--she seems so much older than our girls, Stephen.  Think
+of her keeping this to herself for four days!"
+
+Mr. Merrill laughed, but he went off to a little writing room he had and
+sat for a long time looking into the glowing coals.  Then he laughed
+again.  Mr. Merrill was a philosopher.  After all, he could not forbid
+Dudley Worthington's son coming to his house, nor did he wish to.
+
+That same evening Cynthia wrote a letter and posted it.  She found it a
+very difficult letter to write, and almost as difficult to drop into the
+mail-box.  She reflected that the holidays were close at hand, and then
+he would go to Brampton and forget, even as he had forgotten before.  And
+she determined when Wednesday afternoon came around that she would take a
+long walk in the direction of Brookline.  Cynthia loved these walks, for
+she sadly missed the country air,--and they had kept the color in her
+cheeks and the courage in her heart that winter.  She had amazed the
+Merrill girls by the distances she covered, and on more than one occasion
+she had trudged many miles to a spot from which there was a view of Blue
+Hills.  They reminded her faintly of Coniston.
+
+Who can speak or write with any certainty of the feminine character, or
+declare what unexpected twists perversity and curiosity may give to it?
+Wednesday afternoon came, and Cynthia did not go to Brookline.  She put
+on her coat, and took it off again.  Would he dare to come in the face of
+the mandate he had received?  If he did come, she wouldn't see him.
+Ellen had received her orders.
+
+At four o'clock the doorbell rang, and shortly thereafter Ellen appeared,
+simpering and apologetic enough, with a card.  She had taken the trouble
+to read it this time.  Cynthia was angry, or thought she was, and her
+cheeks were very red.
+
+"I told you to excuse me, Ellen.  Why did you let him in?"
+
+"Miss Cynthia, darlin'," said Ellen, "if it was made of flint I was,
+wouldn't he bring the tears out of me with his wheedlin' an' coaxin'?
+An' him such a fine young gintleman!  And whin he took to commandin'
+like, sure I couldn't say no to him at all at all.  'Take the card to
+her, Ellen,' he says--didn't he know me name!--'an' if she says she won't
+see me, thin I won't trouble her more.'  Thim were his words, Miss."
+
+There he was before the fire, his feet slightly apart and his hands in
+his pockets, waiting for her.  She got a glimpse of him standing thus, as
+she came down the stairs.  It was not the attitude of a culprit.  Nor did
+he bear the faintest resemblance to a culprit as he came up to her in the
+doorway.  The chief recollection she carried away of that moment was that
+his teeth were very white and even when he smiled.  He had the impudence
+to smile.  He had the impudence to seize one of her hands in his, and to
+hold aloft a sheet of paper in the other.
+
+"What does this mean?" said he.
+
+"What do you thick it means?" retorted Cynthia, with dignity.
+
+"A summons to stay away," said Bob, thereby more or less accurately
+describing it.  "What would you have thought of me if I had not come?"
+
+Cynthia was not prepared for any such question as this.  She had meant to
+ask the questions herself.  But she never lacked for words to protect
+herself.
+
+"I'll tell you what I think of you for coming, Bob, for insisting upon
+seeing me as you did," she said, remembering with shame Ellen's account
+of that proceeding.  "It was very unkind and very thoughtless of you."
+
+"Unkind?"  Thus she succeeded in putting him on the defensive.
+
+"Yes, unkind, because I know it is best for you not to come to see me,
+and you know it, and yet you will not help me when I try to do what is
+right.  I shall be blamed for these visits," she said.  The young ladies
+in the novels always were.  But it was a serious matter for poor Cynthia,
+and her voice trembled a little.  Her troubles seemed very real.
+
+"Who will blame you?" asked Bob, though he knew well enough.  Then he
+added, seeing that she did not answer: "I don't at all agree with you
+that it is best for me not to see you.  I know of nobody in the world it
+does me more good to see than yourself.  Let's sit down and talk it all
+over," he said, for she still remained standing uncompromisingly by the
+door.
+
+The suspicion of a smile came over Cynthia's face.  She remembered how
+Ellen had been wheedled.  Her instinct told her that now was the time to
+make a stand or never.
+
+"It wouldn't do any good, Bob," she replied, shaking her head; "we talked
+it all over last week."
+
+"Not at all," said he, "we only touched upon a few points last week.  We
+ought to thrash it out.  Various aspects of the matter have occurred to
+me which I ought to call to your attention."
+
+He could not avoid this bantering tone, but she saw that he was very much
+in earnest too.  He realized the necessity of winning; likewise, and he
+had got in and meant to stay.
+
+"I don't want to argue," said Cynthia.  "I've thought it all out."
+
+"So have I," said Bob.  "I haven't thought of anything else, to speak of.
+And by the way," he declared, shaking the envelope, "I never got a colder
+and more formal letter in my life.  You must have taken it from one of
+Miss Sadler's copy books."
+
+"I'm sorry I haven't been able to equal the warmth of your other
+correspondents," said Cynthia, smiling at the mention of Miss Sadler.
+
+"You've got a good many degrees yet to go," he replied.
+
+"I have no idea of doing so," said Cynthia.
+
+If Cynthia had lured him there, and had carefully thought out a plan of
+fanning his admiration into a flame, she could not have done better than
+to stand obstinately by the door.  Nothing appeals to a man like
+resistance--resistance for a principle appealed to Bob, although he did
+not care a fig about that particular principle.  In his former dealings
+with young women--and they had not been few--the son of Dudley
+Worthington had encountered no resistance worth the mentioning.  He
+looked at the girl before him, and his blood leaped at the thought of a
+conquest over her.  She was often demure, but behind that demureness was
+firmness: she was mistress of herself, and yet possessed a marvellous
+vitality.
+
+"And now," said Cynthia, "don't you think you had better go?"
+
+Go!  He laughed outright.  Never!  He would sit down under that fortress,
+and some day he meant to scale the walls.  Like John Paul Jones, he had
+not yet begun to fight.  But he did not sit down just yet, because
+Cynthia remained standing.
+
+"I'm here now," he said, "what's the good of going away?  I might as well
+stay the rest of the afternoon."
+
+"You will find a photograph album on the table," said Cynthia, "with
+pictures of all the Merrill family and their friends and relations."
+
+In spite of the threat this remark conveyed, he could not help laughing
+at it.  Mrs. Merrill in her sitting room heard the laugh, and felt that
+she would like Bob Worthington.
+
+"It's a heavy album, Cynthia," he said; "perhaps you would hold up one
+side of it."
+
+It was Cynthia's turn to laugh.  She could not decide whether he were a
+man or a boy.  Sometimes, she had to admit, he was very much of a man.
+
+"Where are you going?" he cried.
+
+"Upstairs, of course," she answered.
+
+This was really alarming.  But fate thrust a final weapon into his hands.
+
+"All right," said he, "I'll look at the album.  What time does Mr.
+Merrill get home?"
+
+"About six," answered Cynthia.  "Why?"
+
+"When he comes," said Bob, "I shall put on my most disconsolate
+expression.  He'll ask me what I'm doing, and I'll tell him you went
+upstairs at half-past four and haven't come down.  He'll sympathize, I'll
+bet anything."
+
+Whether Bob were really capable of doing this, Cynthia could not tell. She
+believed he was.  Perhaps she really did not intend to go upstairs
+just then.  To his intense relief she seated herself on a straight-backed
+chair near the door, although she had the air of being about to get up
+again at any minute.  It was not a surrender, not at all--but a parley,
+at least.
+
+"I really want to talk to you seriously, Bob," she said, and her voice
+was serious.  "I like you very much--I always have--and I want you to
+listen seriously.  All of us have friends.  Some people--you, for
+instance--have a great many.  We have but one father."  Her voice failed
+a little at the word.  "No friend can ever be the same to you as your
+father, and no friendship can make up what his displeasure will cost you.
+I do not mean to say that I shan't always be your friend, for I shall
+be."
+
+Young men seldom arrive at maturity by gradual steps--something sets them
+thinking, a week passes, and suddenly the world has a different aspect.
+Bob had thought much of his father during that week, and had considered
+their relationship very carefully.  He had a few precious memories of his
+mother before she had been laid to rest under that hideous and
+pretentious monument in the Brampton hill cemetery.  How unlike her was
+that monument!  Even as a young boy, when on occasions he had wandered
+into the cemetery, he used to stand before it with a lump in his throat
+and bitter resentment in his heart, and once he had shaken his fist at
+it.  He had grown up out of sympathy with his father, but he had never
+until now began to analyze the reasons for it.  His father had given him
+everything except that communion of which Cynthia spoke so feelingly.
+Mr. Worthington had acted according to his lights: of all the people in
+the world he thought first of his son.  But his thoughts and care had
+been alone of what the son would be to the world: how that son would
+carry on the wealth and greatness of Isaac D. Worthington.
+
+Bob had known this before, but it had had no such significance for him
+then as now.  He was by no means lacking in shrewdness, and as he had
+grown older he had perceived clearly enough Mr. Worthington's reasons for
+throwing him socially with the Duncans.  Mr. Worthington had never been a
+plain-spoken man, but he had as much as told his son that it was decreed
+that he should marry the heiress of the state.  There were other plans
+connected with this.  Mr. Worthington meant that his son should
+eventually own the state itself, for he saw that the man who controlled
+the highways of a state could snap his fingers at governor and council
+and legislature and judiciary: could, indeed, do more--could own them
+even more completely than Jethro Bass now owned them, and without effort.
+The dividends would do the work: would canvass the counties and persuade
+this man and that with sufficient eloquence.  By such tokens it will be
+seen that Isaac D. Worthington is destined to become great, though the
+greatness will be akin to that possessed by those gentlemen who in past
+ages had built castles across the highway between Venice and the
+North Sea.  All this was in store for Bob Worthington, if he could only
+be brought to see it.  These things would be given him, if he would but
+confine his worship to the god of wealth.
+
+We are running ahead, however, of Bob's reflections in Mr. Merrill's
+parlor in Mount Vernon Street, and the ceremony of showing him the cities
+of his world from Brampton hill was yet to be gone through.  Bob knew his
+father's plans only in a general way, but in the past week he had come to
+know his father with a fair amount of thoroughness.  If Isaac D.
+Worthington had but chosen a worldly wife, he might have had a more
+worldly son.  As it was, Bob's thoughts were a little bitter when Cynthia
+spoke of his father, and he tried to think instead what his mother would
+have him do.  He could not, indeed, speak of Mr. Worthington's
+shortcomings as he understood them, but he answered Cynthia vigorously
+enough--even if his words were not as serious as she desired.
+
+"I tell you I am old enough to judge for myself, Cynthia," said he, "and
+I intend to judge for myself.  I don't pretend to be a paragon of virtue,
+but I have a kind of a conscience which tells me when I am doing wrong,
+if I listen to it.  I have not always listened to it.  It tells me I'm
+doing right now, and I mean to listen to it."
+
+Cynthia could not but think there was very little self-denial attached to
+this.  Men are not given largely to self-denial.
+
+"It is easy enough to listen to your conscience when you think it impels
+you to do that which you want to do, Bob," she answered, laughing at his
+argument in spite of herself.
+
+"Are you wicked?" he demanded abruptly.
+
+"Why, no, I don't think I am," said Cynthia, taken aback.  But she
+corrected herself swiftly, perceiving his bent.  "I should be doing wrong
+to let you come here."
+
+He ignored the qualification.
+
+"Are you vain and frivolous?"
+
+She remembered that she had looked in the glass before she had come down
+to him, and bit her lip.
+
+"Are you given over to idle pursuits, to leading young men from their
+occupations and duties?"
+
+"If you've come here to recite the Blue Laws," said she, laughing again,
+"I have something better to do than to listen to them."
+
+"Cynthia," he cried, "I'll tell you what you are.  I'll draw your
+character for you, and then, if you can give me one good reason why I
+should not associate with you, I'll go away and never come back."
+
+"That's all very well," said Cynthia, "but suppose I don't admit your
+qualifications for drawing my character.  And I don't admit them, not for
+a minute."
+
+"I will draw it," said he, standing up in front of her.  "Oh, confound
+it!"
+
+This exclamation, astonishing and out of place as it was, was caused by a
+ring at the doorbell.  The ring was followed by a whispering and giggling
+in the hall, and then by the entrance of the Misses Merrill into the
+parlor.  Curiosity had been too strong for them.  Susan was human, and
+here was the opportunity for a little revenge.  In justice to her, she
+meant the revenge to be very slight.
+
+"Well, Cynthia, you should have come to the concert," she said; "it was
+fine, wasn't it, Jane?  Is this Mr. Worthington?  How do you do.  I'm
+Miss Susan Merrill, and this is Miss Jane Merrill."  Susan only intended
+to stay a minute, but how was Bob to know that?  She was tempted into
+staying longer.  Bob lighted the gas, and she inspected him and approved.
+Her approval increased when he began to talk to her in his bantering way,
+as if he had known her always.  Then, when she was fully intending to go,
+he rose to take his leave.
+
+"I'm awfully glad to have met you at last," he said to Susan, "I've heard
+so much about you."  His leave-taking of Jane was less effusive, and then
+he turned to Cynthia and took her hand.  "I'm going to Brampton on
+Friday," he said, "for the holidays.  I wish you were going."
+
+"We couldn't think of letting her go, Mr. Worthington," cried Susan, for
+the thought of the hills had made Cynthia incapable of answering.  "We're
+only to have her for one short winter, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Mr. Worthington, gravely.  "I'll see old Ephraim, and
+tell him you're well, and what a marvel of learning, you've become.
+And--and I'll go to Coniston if that will please you."
+
+"Oh, no, Bob, you mustn't do anything of the kind," answered Cynthia,
+trying to keep back the tears.  "I--I write to Uncle Jethro very often.
+Good-by.  I hope you will enjoy your holidays."
+
+"I'm coming to see you the minute I get back and tell you all about
+everybody," said he.
+
+How was she to forbid him to come before Susan and Jane!  She could only
+be silent.
+
+"Do come, Mr. Worthington," said Susan, warmly, wondering at Cynthia's
+coldness and, indeed, misinterpreting it.  "I am sure she will be glad to
+see you.  And we shall always make you welcome, at any rate."
+
+As soon as he was out of the door, Susan became very repentant, and
+slipped her hand about Cynthia's waist.
+
+"We shouldn't have come in at all if we had known he would go so soon,
+indeed we shouldn't, Cynthia."  And seeing that Cynthia was still silent,
+she added: "I wouldn't do such a mean thing, Cynthia, I really wouldn't.
+Won't you believe me and forgive me?"
+
+Cynthia scarcely heard her at first.  She was thinking of Coniston
+mountain, and how the sun had just set behind it.  The mountain would be
+ultramarine against the white fields, and the snow on the hill pastures
+to the east stained red as with wine.  What would she not have given to
+be going back to-morrow--yes, with Bob.  She confessed--though startled
+by the very boldness of the thought--that she would like to be going
+there with Bob.  Susan's appeal brought her back to Boston and the gas-
+lit parlor.
+
+"Forgive you, Susan!  There's nothing to forgive.  I wanted him to go."
+
+"You wanted him to go?" repeated Susan, amazed.  She may be pardoned if
+she did not believe this, but a glance at Cynthia's face scarcely left a
+room for doubt.  "Cynthia Wetherell, you're the strangest girl I've ever
+known in all my life.  If I had a--a friend" (Susan had another word on
+her tongue) "if I had such a friend as Mr. Worthington, I shouldn't be in
+a hurry to let him leave me.  Of course," she added, "I shouldn't let him
+know it."
+
+Cynthia's heart was very heavy during the next few days, heavier by far
+than her friends in Mount Vernon Street imagined.  They had grown to love
+her almost as one of themselves, and because of the sympathy which comes
+of such love they guessed that her thoughts would be turning homeward at
+Christmastide.  At school she had listened, perforce, to the festival
+plans of thirty girls of her own age; to accounts of the probable
+presents they were to receive, the cost of some of which would support a
+family in Coniston for several months; to arrangements for visits, during
+which there were to be theatre-parties and dances and other gaieties.
+Cynthia could not help wondering, as she listened in silence to this
+talk, whether Uncle Jethro had done wisely in sending her to Miss Sadler's;
+whether she would not have been far happier if she had never known about
+such things.
+
+Then came the last day of school, which began with leave-takings and
+embraces.  There were not many who embraced Cynthia, though, had she
+known it, this was largely her own fault.  Poor Cynthia!  how was she to
+know it?  Many more of them than she imagined would have liked to embrace
+her had they believed that the embrace would be returned.  Secretly they
+had grown to admire this strange, dark girl, who was too proud to bend
+for the good opinion of any one--even of Miss Sally Broke.  Once during
+the term Cynthia had held some of them--in the hollow of her hand, and
+had incurred the severe displeasure of Miss Sadler by refusing to tell
+what she knew of certain mischief-makers.
+
+Now, Miss Sadler was going about among them in the school parlor saying
+good-by, sending particular remembrance to such of the fathers and
+mothers as she thought worthy of that honor; kissing some, shaking, hands
+with all.  It was then that a dramatic incident occurred--dramatic for a
+girls' school, at least.  Cynthia deliberately turned her back on Miss
+Sadler and looked out of the window.  The chatter in the room was hushed,
+and for a moment a dangerous wrath flamed in Miss Sadler's eyes.  Then
+she passed on with a smile, to send most particular messages to the
+mother of Miss Isabel Burrage.
+
+Some few moments afterward Cynthia felt a touch on her arm, and turned to
+find herself confronted by Miss Sally Broke.  Unfortunately there is not
+much room for Miss Broke in this story, although she may appear in
+another one yet to be written.  She was extremely good-looking, with real
+golden hair and mischievous blue eyes.  She was, in brief, the leader of
+Miss Sadler's school.
+
+"Cynthia," she said, "I was rude to you when you first came here, and I'm
+sorry for it.  I want to beg your pardon."  And she held out her hand.
+
+There was a moment's suspense for those watching to see if Cynthia would
+take it.  She did take it.
+
+"I'm sorry, too," said Cynthia, simply, "I couldn't see what I'd done to
+offend you.  Perhaps you'll explain now."
+
+Miss Broke blushed violently, and for an instant looked decidedly
+uncomfortable.  Then she burst into laughter,--merry, irresistible
+laughter that carried all before it.
+
+"I was a snob, that's all," said she, "just a plain, low down snob.  You
+don't understand what that means, because you're not one."  (Cynthia did
+understand, ) "But I like you, and I want you to be my friend.  Perhaps
+when I get to know you better, you will come home with me sometime for a
+visit."
+
+Go home with her for a visit to that house in Washington Square with the
+picture gallery!
+
+"I want to say that I'd give my head to have been able to turn my back on
+Miss Sadler as you did," continued Miss Broke; "if you ever want a
+friend, remember Sally Broke."
+
+Some of Cynthia's trouble, at least, was mitigated by this episode; and
+Miss Broke having led the way, Miss Broke's followers came shyly, one by
+one, with proffers of friendship.  To the good-hearted Merrill girls the
+walk home that day was a kind of a triumphal march, a victory over Miss
+Sadler and a vindication of their friend.  Mrs. Merrill, when she heard
+of it, could not find it in her heart to reprove Cynthia.  Miss Sadler
+had got her just deserts.  But Miss Sadler was not a person who was
+likely to forget such an incident.  Indeed, Mrs. Merrill half expected to
+receive a note before the holidays ended that Cynthia's presence was no
+longer desired at the school.  No such note came, however.
+
+If one had to be away from home on Christmas, there could surely be no
+better place to spend that day than in the Merrill household.  Cynthia
+remembers still, when that blessed season comes around, how each member
+of the family vied with the others to make her happy; how they showered
+presents on her, and how they strove to include her in the laughter and
+jokes at the big family dinner.  Mr. Merrill's brother was there with his
+wife, and Mrs.  Merrill's aunt and her husband, and two broods of
+cousins.  It may be well to mention that the Merrill relations, like
+Sally Broke, had overcome their dislike for Cynthia.
+
+There were eatables from Coniston on that board.  A turkey sent by Jethro
+for which, Mr. Merrill declared, the table would have to be strengthened;
+a saddle of venison--Lem Hallowell having shot a deer on the mountain two
+Sundays before; and mince-meat made by Amanda Hatch herself.  Other
+presents had come to Cynthia from the hills: a gorgeous copy of Mr.
+Longfellow's poems from Cousin Ephraim, and a gold locket from Uncle
+Jethro.  This locket was the precise counterpart (had she but known it)
+of a silver one bought at Mr. Judson's shop many years before, though the
+inscription "Cynthy, from Uncle Jethro," was within.  Into the other side
+exactly fitted that daguerreotype of her mother which her father had
+given her when he died.  The locket had a gold chain with a clasp, and
+Cynthia wore it hidden beneath her gown-too intimate a possession to be
+shown.
+
+There was still another and very mysterious present, this being a huge
+box of roses, addressed to Miss Cynthia Wetherell, which was delivered on
+Christmas morning.  If there had been a card, Susan Merrill would
+certainly have found it.  There was no card.  There was much pretended
+speculation on the part of the Merrill girls as to the sender, sly
+reference to Cynthia's heightened color, and several attempts to pin on
+her dress a bunch of the flowers, and Susan declared that one of them
+would look stunning in her hair.  They were put on the dining-room table
+in the centre of the wreath of holly, and under the mistletoe which hung
+from the chandelier.  Whether Cynthia surreptitiously stole one has never
+been discovered.
+
+So Christmas came and went: not altogether unhappily, deferring for a day
+at least the knotty problems of life.  Although Cynthia accepted the
+present of the roses with such magnificent unconcern, and would not make
+so much as a guess as to who sent them, Mr. Robert Worthington was
+frequently in her thoughts.  He had declared his intention of coming to
+Mount Vernon Street as soon as the holidays ended, and had been cordially
+invited by Susan to do so.  Cynthia took the trouble to procure a Harvard
+catalogue from the library, and discovered that he had many holidays yet
+to spend.  She determined to write another letter, which he would find in
+his rooms when he returned.  Just what terrible prohibitory terms she was
+to employ in that letter Cynthia could not decide in a moment, nor yet in
+a day, or a week.  She went so far as to make several drafts, some of
+which she destroyed for the fault of leniency, and others for that of
+severity.  What was she to say to him?  She had expended her arguments to
+no avail.  She could wound him, indeed, and at length made up her mind
+that this was the only resource left her, although she would thereby
+wound herself more deeply.  When she had arrived at this decision, there
+remained still more than a week in which to compose the letter.
+
+On the morning after New Year's, when the family were assembled around
+the breakfast table, Mrs. Merrill remarked that her husband was
+neglecting a custom which had been his for many years.
+
+"Didn't the newspaper come, Stephen?" she asked.
+
+Mr. Merrill had read it.
+
+"Read it!" repeated his wife, in surprise, "you haven't been down long
+enough to read a column."
+
+"It was full of trash," said Mr. Merrill, lightly, and began on his usual
+jokes with the girls.  But Mrs. Merrill was troubled.  She thought his
+jokes not as hearty as they were wont to be, and disquieting surmises of
+business worries filled her mind.  The fact that he beckoned her into his
+writing room as soon as breakfast was over did not tend to allay her
+suspicions.  He closed and locked the door after her, and taking the
+paper from a drawer in his desk bade her read a certain article in it.
+
+The article was an arraignment of Jethro Bass--and a terrible arraignment
+indeed.  Step by step it traced his career from the beginning, showing
+first of all how he had debauched his own town of Coniston; how,
+enlarging on the same methods, he had gradually extended his grip over
+the county and finally over the state; how he had bought and sold men for
+his own power and profit, deceived those who had trusted in him,
+corrupted governors and legislators, congressmen and senators, and even
+justices of the courts: how he had trafficked ruthlessly in the
+enterprises of the people.  Instance upon instance was given, and men of
+high prominence from whom he had received bribes were named, not the
+least important of these being the Honorable Alva Hopkins of Gosport.
+
+Mrs. Merrill looked up from the paper in dismay.
+
+"It's copied from the Newcastle Guardian," she said, for lack of
+immediate power to comment.  "Isn't the Guardian the chief paper in that
+state?"
+
+"Yes, Worthington's bought it, and he instigated the article, of course.
+I've been afraid of this for a long time, Carry," said Mr. Merrill,
+pacing up and down.  "There's a bigger fight than they've ever had coming
+on up there, and this is the first gun.  Worthington, with Duncan behind
+him, is trying to get possession of and consolidate all the railroads in
+the western part of that state.  If he succeeds, it will mean the end of
+Jethro's power.  But he won't succeed."
+
+"Stephen," said his wife, "do you mean to say that Jethro Bass will try
+to defeat this consolidation simply to keep his power?"
+
+"Well, my dear," answered Mr. Merrill, still pacing, "two wrongs don't
+make a right, I admit.  I've known these things a long time, and I've
+thought about them a good deal.  But I've had to run along with the tide,
+or give place to another man who would; and--and starve."
+
+Mrs. Merrill's eyes slowly filled with tears.
+
+"Stephen," she began, "do you mean to say--?"  There she stopped, utterly
+unable to speak.  He ceased his pacing and sat down beside her and took
+her hand.
+
+"Yes, my dear, I mean to say I've submitted to these things.  God knows
+whether I've been right or wrong, but I have.  I've often thought I'd be
+happier if I resigned my office as president of my road and became a
+clerk in a store.  I don't attempt to excuse myself, Carry, but my sin
+has been in holding on to my post.  As long as I remain president I have
+to cope with things as I find them."
+
+Mr. Merrill spoke thickly, for the sight of his wife's tears wrung his
+heart.
+
+"Stephen," she said, "when we were first married and you were a district
+superintendent, you used to tell me everything."
+
+Stephen Merrill was a man, and a good man, as men go.  How was he to tell
+her the degrees by which he had been led into his present situation?  How
+was he to explain that these degrees had been so gradual that his
+conscience had had but a passing wrench here and there?  Politics being
+what they were, progress and protection had to be obtained in accordance
+with them, and there was a duty to the holders of bonds and stocks.
+
+His wife had a question on her lips, a question for which she had to
+summon all her courage.  She chose that form for it which would hurt him
+least.
+
+"Mr. Worthington is going to try to change these things?"
+
+Mr. Merrill roused himself at the words, and his eyes flashed.  He became
+a different man.
+
+"Change them!" he cried bitterly, "change them for the worse, if he can.
+He will try to wrest the power from Jethro Bass.  I don't defend him.  I
+don't defend myself.  But I like Jethro Bass.  I won't deny it.  He's
+human, and I like him, and whatever they say about him I know that he's
+been a true friend to me.  And I tell you as I hope for happiness here
+and hereafter, that if Worthington succeeds in what he is trying to do,
+if the railroads win in this fight, there will be no mercy for the people
+of that state.  I'm a railroad man myself, though I have no interest in
+this affair.  My turn may come later.  Will come later, I suppose.  Isaac
+D. Worthington has a very little heart or soul or mercy himself; but the
+corporation which he means to set up will have none at all.  It will
+grind the people and debase them and clog their progress a hundred times
+more than Jethro Bass has done.  Mark my words, Carry.  I'm running ahead
+of the times a little, but I can see it all as clearly as if it existed
+now."
+
+Mrs. Merrill went about her duties that morning with a heavy heart, and
+more than once she paused to wipe away a tear that would have fallen on
+the linen she vas sorting.  At eleven o'clock the doorbell rang, and
+Ellen appeared at the entrance to the linen closet with a card in her
+hand.  Mrs. Merrill looked at it with a, flurry of surprise.  It read:--
+
+                     MISS LUCRETIA PENNIMAN
+
+                        The Woman's Hour
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+It was certainly affinity that led Miss Lucretia to choose the rosewood
+sofa of a bygone age, which was covered with horsehair.  Miss Lucretia's
+features seemed to be constructed on a larger and more generous principle
+than those of women are nowadays.  Her face was longer.  With her curls
+and her bonnet and her bombazine,--which she wore in all seasons,--she
+was in complete harmony with the sofa.  She had thrown aside the storm
+cloak which had become so familiar to pedestrians in certain parts of
+Boston.
+
+"My dear Miss Penniman," said Mrs. Merrill, "I am delighted and honored.
+I scarcely hoped for such a pleasure.  I have so long admired you and
+your work, and I have heard Cynthia speak of you so kindly."
+
+"It is very good of you to say so, Mrs. Merrill" answered Miss Lucretia,
+in her full, deep voice.  It was by no means an unpleasant voice.  She
+settled herself, though she sat quite upright, in the geometrical centre
+of the horsehair sofa, and cleared her throat.  "To be quite honest with
+you, Mrs. Merrill," she continued, "I came upon particular errand, though
+I believe it would not be a perversion of the truth if I were to add that
+I have had for a month past every intention of paying you a friendly
+call."
+
+Good Mrs. Merrill's breath was a little taken away by this extremely
+scrupulous speech.  She also began to feel a misgiving about the cause
+of the visit, but she managed to say something polite in reply.
+
+"I have come about Cynthia," announced Miss Lucretia, without further
+preliminaries.
+
+"About Cynthia?" faltered Mrs. Merrill.
+
+Miss Lucretia opened a reticule at her waist and drew forth a newspaper
+clipping, which she unfolded and handed to Mrs. Merrill.
+
+"Have you seen this?" she demanded.
+
+Mrs. Merrill took it, although she guessed very well what it was, glanced
+at it with a shudder, and handed it back.
+
+"Yes, I have read it," she said.
+
+"I have come to ask you, Mrs. Merrill" said Miss Lucretia, "if it is
+true."
+
+Here was a question, indeed, for the poor lady to answer!  But Mrs.
+Merrill was no coward.
+
+"It is partly true, I believe."
+
+"Partly?" said Miss Lucretia, sharply.
+
+"Yes, partly," said Mrs. Merrill, rousing herself for the trial; "I have
+never yet seen a newspaper article which was wholly true."
+
+"That is because newspapers are not edited by women," observed Miss
+Lucretia.  "What I wish you to tell me, Mrs. Merrill, is this: how much
+of that article is true, and how much of it is false?"
+
+"Really, Miss Penniman," replied Mrs. Merrill, with spirit, "I don't see
+why you should expect me to know."
+
+"A woman should take an intelligent interest in her husband's affairs,
+Mrs. Merrill.  I have long advocated it as an entering wedge."
+
+"An entering wedge!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill, who had never read a page of
+the Woman's Hour.
+
+"Yes.  Your husband is the president of a railroad, I believe, which is
+largely in that state.  I should like to ask him whether these statements
+are true in the main.  Whether this Jethro Bass is the kind of man they
+declare him to be."
+
+Mrs. Merrill was in a worse quandary than ever.  Her own spirits were
+none too good, and Miss Lucretia's eye, in its search for truth, seemed
+to pierce into her very soul.  There was no evading that eye.  But Mrs.
+Merrill did what few people would have had the courage or good sense to
+do.
+
+"That is a political article, Miss Penniman," she said, "inspired by a
+bitter enemy of Jethro Bass, Mr, Worthington, who has bought the
+newspaper from which it was copied.  For that reason, I was right in
+saying that it is partly true.  You nor I, Miss Penniman, must not be the
+judges of any man or woman, for we know nothing of their problems or
+temptations.  God will judge them.  We can only say that they have acted
+rightly or wrongly according to the light that is in us.  You will find
+it difficult to get a judgment of Jethro Bass that is not a partisan
+judgment, and yet I believe that that article is in the main a history of
+the life of Jethro Bass.  A partisan history, but still a history.  He
+has unquestionably committed many of the acts of which he is accused."
+
+Here was talk to make the author of the "Hymn to Coniston" sit up, if she
+hadn't been sitting up already.
+
+"And don't you condemn him for those acts?" she gasped.
+
+"Ah," said Mrs. Merrill, thinking of her own husband.  Yesterday she
+would certainly have condemned. Jethro Bass.  But now!  "I do not condemn
+anybody, Miss Penniman."
+
+Miss Lucretia thought this extraordinary, to say the least.
+
+"I will put the question in another way, Mrs. Merrill," said she.  "Do
+you think this Jethro Bass a proper guardian for Cynthia Wetherell?"
+
+To her amazement Mrs. Merrill did not give her an instantaneous answer to
+this question.  Mrs. Merrill was thinking of Jethro's love for the girl,
+manifold evidences of which she had seen, and her heart was filled with a
+melting pity.  It was such a love, Mrs. Merrill knew, as is not given to
+many here below.  And there was Cynthia's love for him.  Mrs. Merrill had
+suffered that morning thinking of this tragedy also.
+
+"I do not think he is a proper guardian for her, Miss Penniman."
+
+It was then that the tears came to Mrs. Merrill's eyes for there is a
+limit to all human endurance.  The sight of these caused a remarkable
+change in Miss Lucretia, and she leaned forward and seized Mrs. Merrill's
+arm.
+
+"My dear," she cried, "my dear, what are we to do?  Cynthia can't go back
+to that man.  She loves him, I know, she loves him as few girls are
+capable of loving.  But when she, finds out what he is!  When she finds
+out how he got the money to support her father!"  Miss Lucretia fumbled
+in her reticule and drew forth a handkerchief and brushed her own eyes--
+eyes which a moment ago were so piercing.  "I have seen many young
+women," she continued; "but I have known very few who were made of as
+fine a fibre and who have such principles as Cynthia Wetherell."
+
+"That is very true," assented Mrs. Merrill too much cast down to be
+amazed by this revelation of Miss Lucretia's weakness.
+
+"But what are we to do?" insisted that lady; "who is to tell her what he
+is?  How is it to be kept from her, indeed?"
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Merrill, "there will be more, articles.  Mr. Merrill
+says so.  It seems there is to be a great political struggle in that
+state."
+
+"Precisely," said Miss Lucretia, sadly.  "And whoever tells the girl will
+forfeit her friendship.  I--I am very fond of her," and here she applied
+again to the reticule.
+
+"Whom would she believe?" asked Mrs. Merrill, whose estimation of Miss
+Lucretia was increasing by leaps and bounds.
+
+"Precisely," agreed Miss Lucretia.  "But she must hear about it
+sometime."
+
+"Wouldn't it be better to let her hear?" suggested Mrs. Merrill; "we
+cannot very well soften that shock: I talked the matter over a little
+with Mr. Merrill, and he thinks that we must take time over it, Miss
+Penniman.  Whatever we do, we must not act hastily."
+
+"Well," said Miss Lucretia, "as I said, I am very fond of the girl, and I
+am willing to do my duty, whatever it may be.  And I also wished to say,
+Mrs. Merrill, that I have thought about another matter very carefully.  I
+am willing to provide for the girl.  I am getting too old to live alone.
+I am getting too old, indeed, to do my work properly, as I used to do it.
+I should like to have her to live with me."
+
+"She has become as one of my own daughters," said Mrs. Merrill.  Yet she
+knew that this offer of Miss Lucretia's was not one to be lightly set
+aside, and that it might eventually be the best solution of the problem.
+After some further earnest discussion it was agreed between them that the
+matter was, if possible, to be kept from Cynthia for the present, and
+when Miss Lucretia departed Mrs. Merrill promised her an early return of
+her call.
+
+Mrs. Merrill had another talk with her husband, which lasted far into the
+night.  This talk was about Cynthia alone, and the sorrow which
+threatened her.  These good people knew that it would be no light thing
+to break the faith of such as she, and they made her troubles their own.
+
+Cynthia little guessed as she exchanged raillery with Mr. Merrill the
+next morning that he had risen fifteen minutes earlier than usual to
+search his newspaper through.  He would read no more at breakfast, so he
+declared in answer to his daughters' comments; it was a bad habit which
+did not agree with his digestion.  It was something new for Mr. Merrill
+to have trouble with his digestion.
+
+There was another and scarcely less serious phase of the situation which
+Mr. and Mrs. Merrill had yet to discuss between them--a phase of which
+Miss Lucretia Penniman knew nothing.
+
+The day before Miss Sadler's school was to reopen nearly a week before
+the Harvard term was to commence--a raging, wet snowstorm came charging
+in from the Atlantic.  Snow had no terrors for a Coniston person, and
+Cynthia had been for her walk.  Returning about five o'clock, she was
+surprised to have the door opened for her by Susan herself.
+
+"What a picture you are in those furs!" she cried, with an intention
+which for the moment was lost upon Cynthia.  "I thought you would never
+come.  You must have walked to Dedham this time.  Who do you think is
+here?  Mr. Worthington."
+
+"Mr. Worthington!"
+
+"I have been trying to entertain him, but I am afraid I have been a very
+poor substitute.  However, I have persuaded him to stay for supper."
+
+"It needed but little persuasion," said Bob, appearing in the doorway.
+All the snowstorms of the wide Atlantic could not have brought such color
+to her cheeks.  Cynthia, for all her confusion at the meeting, had not
+lost her faculty of observation.  He seemed to have changed again, even
+during the brief time he had been absent.  His tone was grave.
+
+"He needs to be cheered up, Cynthia," Susan went on, as though reading
+her thoughts.  "I have done my best, without success.  He won't confess
+to me that he has come back to make up some of his courses.  I don't mind
+owning that I've got to finish a theme to be handed in tomorrow."
+
+With these words Susan departed, and left them standing in the hall
+together.  Bob took hold of Cynthia's jacket and helped her off with it.
+He could read neither pleasure nor displeasure in her face, though he
+searched it anxiously enough.  It was she who led the way into the parlor
+and seated herself, as before, on one of the uncompromising, straight-
+backed chairs.  Whatever inward tremors the surprise of this visit had
+given her, she looked at him clearly and steadily, completely mistress
+of herself, as ever.
+
+"I thought your holidays did not end until next week," she said.
+
+"They do not."
+
+"Then why are you here?"
+
+"Because I could not stay away, Cynthia," he answered.  It was not the
+manner in which he would have said it a month ago.  There was a note of
+intense earnestness in his voice--now, and to it she could make no light
+reply.  Confronted again with an unexpected situation, she could not
+decide at once upon a line of action.
+
+"When did you leave Brampton?" she asked, to gain time.  But with the
+words her thoughts flew to the hill country.
+
+"This morning," he said, "on the early train.  They have three feet of
+snow up there."  He, too, seemed glad of a respite from something.
+"They're having a great fuss in Brampton about a new teacher for the
+village school.  Miss Goddard has got married.  Did you know Miss
+Goddard, the lanky one with the glasses?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia, beginning to be amused at the turn the conversation
+was taking.
+
+"Well, they can't find anybody smart enough to replace Miss Goddard.  Old
+Ezra Graves, who's on the prudential committee, told Ephraim they ought
+to get you.  I was in the post-office when they were talking about it.
+Just see what a reputation for learning you have in Brampton!"
+
+Cynthia was plainly pleased by the compliment.
+
+"How is Cousin Eph?" she asked.
+
+"Happy as a lark," said Bob, "the greatest living authority in New
+England on the Civil War.  He's made the post-office the most popular
+social club I ever saw.  If anybody's missing in Brampton, you can nearly
+always find them in the post-office.  But I smiled at the notion of your
+being a school ma'am."
+
+"I don't see anything so funny about it," replied Cynthia, smiling too.
+"Why shouldn't I be?  I should like it."
+
+"You were made for something different," he answered quietly.
+
+It was a subject she did not choose to discuss with him, and dropped her
+lashes before the plainly spoken admiration in his eyes.  So a silence
+fell between them, broken only by the ticking of the agate clock on the
+mantel and the music of sleigh-bells in a distant street.  Presently the
+sleigh-bells died away, and it seemed to Cynthia that the sound of her
+own heartbeats must be louder than the ticking of the clock.  Her tact
+had suddenly deserted her; without reason, and she did not dare to glance
+again at Bob as he sat under the lamp.  That minute--for it was a full
+minute--was charged with a presage which she could not grasp.  Cynthia's
+instincts were very keen.  She understood, of course, that he had cut
+short his holiday to come to see her, and she might have dealt with him
+had that been all.  But--through that sixth sense with which some women
+are endowed--she knew that something troubled him.  He, too, had never
+yet been at a loss for words.
+
+The silence forced him to speak first, and he tried to restore the light
+tone to the conversation.
+
+"Cousin Ephraim gave me a piece of news," he said.  "Ezra Graves got it,
+too.  He told us you were down in Boston at a fashionable school.  Cousin
+Ephraim knows a thing or two.  He says he always callated you were cut
+out for a fine lady."
+
+"Bob," said Cynthia, nerving herself for the ordeal, "did you tell Cousin
+Ephraim you had seen me?"
+
+"I told him and Ezra that I had been a constant and welcome visitor at
+this house."
+
+"Did, you tell your father that you had seen me?"
+
+This was too serious a question to avoid.
+
+"No, I did not.  There was no reason why I should have."
+
+"There was every reason," said Cynthia, "and you know it.  Did you tell
+him why you came to Boston to-day?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Why does he think you came?"
+
+"He doesn't think anything about it," said Bob.  "He went off to Chicago
+yesterday to attend a meeting of the board of directors of a western
+railroad."
+
+"And so," she said reproachfully, "you slipped off as soon as his back
+was turned.  I would not have believed that of you, Bob.  Do you think
+that was fair to him or me?"
+
+Bob Worthington sprang to his feet and stood over her.  She had spoken to
+a boy, but she had aroused a man, and she felt an amazing thrill at the
+result.  The muscles in his face tightened, and deepened the lines about
+his mouth, and a fire was lighted about his eyes.
+
+"Cynthia," he said slowly, "even you shall not speak to me like that.  If
+I had believed it were right, if I had believed that it would have done
+any good to you or me, I should have told my father the moment I got to
+Brampton.  In affairs of this kind--in a matter of so much importance in
+my life," he continued, choosing his words carefully, "I am likely to
+know whether I am doing right or wrong.  If my mother were alive, I am
+sure that she would approve of this--this friendship."
+
+Having got so far, he paused.  Cynthia felt that she was trembling, as
+though the force and feeling that was in him had charged her also.
+
+"I did not intend to come so soon," he went on, "but--I had a reason for
+coming.  I knew that you did not want me."
+
+"You know that that is not true, Bob," she faltered.  His next words
+brought her to her feet.
+
+"Cynthia," he said, in a voice shaken by the intensity of his passion,
+"I came because I love you better than all the world--because I always
+will love you so.  I came to protect you, and care for you whatever
+happens. I did not mean to tell you so, now.  But it cannot matter,
+Cynthia!"
+
+He seized her, roughly indeed, in his arms, but his very roughness was a
+proof of the intensity of his love.  For an instant she lay palpitating
+against him, and as long as he lives he will remember the first exquisite
+touch of her firm but supple figure and the marvellous communion of her
+lips.  A current from the great store that was in her, pent up and all
+unknown, ran through him, and then she had struggled out of his arms and
+fled, leaving him standing alone in the parlor.
+
+It is true that such things happen, and no man or woman may foretell the
+day or the hour thereof.  Cynthia fled up the stairs, miraculously
+arriving unnoticed at her own room, and locked the door and flung herself
+on the bed.
+
+Tears came--tears of shame, of joy, of sorrow, of rejoicing, of regret;
+tears that burned, and yet relieved her, tears that pained while they
+comforted.  Had she sinned beyond the pardon of heaven, or had she
+committed a supreme act of right?  One moment she gloried in it, and the
+next upbraided herself bitterly.  Her heart beat with tumult, and again
+seemed to stop.  Such, though the words but faintly describe them, were
+her feelings, for thoughts were still to emerge out of chaos.  Love comes
+like a flame to few women, but so it came to Cynthia Wetherell, and
+burned out for a while all reason.
+
+Only for a while.  Generations which had practised self-restraint were
+strong in her--generations accustomed, too, to thinking out, so far as in
+them lay, the logical consequences of their acts; generations ashamed of
+these very instants when nature has chosen to take command.  After a time
+had passed, during which the world might have shuffled from its course,
+Cynthia sat up in the darkness.  How was she ever to face the light
+again?  Reason had returned.
+
+So she sat for another space, and thought of what she had done--thought
+with a surprising calmness now which astonished her.  Then she thought
+of what she would do, for there was an ordeal still to be gone through.
+Although she shrank from it, she no longer lacked the courage to endure
+it.  Certain facts began to stand out clearly from the confusion.  The
+least important and most immediate of these was that she would have to
+face him, and incidentally face the world in the shape of the Merrill
+family, at supper.  She rose mechanically and lighted the gas and bathed
+her face and changed her gown.  Then she heard Susan's voice at the door.
+
+"Cynthia, what in the world are you doing?"
+
+Cynthia opened the door and the sisters entered.  Was it possible that
+they did not read her terrible secret in her face? Apparently not.  Susan
+was busy commenting on the qualities and peculiarities of Mr. Robert
+Worthington, and showering upon Cynthia a hundred questions which she
+answered she knew not how; but neither Susan nor Jane, wonderful as it
+may seem, betrayed any suspicion.  Did he send the flowers?  Cynthia had
+not asked him.  Did he want to know whether she read the newspapers?  He
+had asked Susan that, before Cynthia came.  Susan was ready to repeat the
+whole of her conversation with him.  Why did he seem so particular about
+newspapers?  Had he notions that girls ought not to read them?
+
+The significance of Bob's remarks about newspapers was lost upon Cynthia
+then.  Not till afterward did she think of them, or connect them with his
+unexpected visit.  Then the supper bell rang, and they went downstairs.
+
+The reader will be spared Mr. Worthington's feelings after Cynthia left
+him, although they were intense enough, and absorbing and far-reaching
+enough.  He sat down on a chair and buried his head in his hands.  His
+impulse had been to leave the house and return again on the morrow, but
+he remembered that he had been asked to stay for supper, and that such a
+proceeding would cause comment.  At length he got up and stood before the
+fire, his thoughts still above the clouds, and it was thus that Mr.
+Merrill found him when he entered.
+
+"Good evening," said that gentleman, genially, not knowing in the least
+who Bob was, but prepossessed in his favor by the way he came forward and
+shook his hand and looked him clearly in the eye.
+
+"I'm Robert Worthington, Mr. Merrill" said he.
+
+"Eh!" Mr. Merrill gasped, "eh!  Oh, certainly, how do you do, Mr.
+Worthington?"  Mr. Merrill would have been polite to a tax collector or a
+sheriff.  He separated the office from the man, which ought not always to
+be done.  "I'm glad to see you, Mr. Worthington.  Well, well, bad storm,
+isn't it?  I had an idea the college didn't open until next week."
+
+"Mr. Worthington's going to stay for supper, Papa," said Susan, entering.
+
+"Good!" cried Mr. Merrill.  "Capital!  You won't miss the old folks after
+supper, will you, girls?  Your mother wants me to go to a whist party."
+
+"It can't be helped, Carry," said Mr. Merrill to his wife, as they walked
+up the hill to a neighbor's that evening.
+
+"He's in love with Cynthia," said Mrs. Merrill, somewhat sadly; "it's as
+plain as the nose on your face, Stephen."
+
+"That isn't very plain.  Suppose he is!  You can dam a mountain stream,
+but you can't prevent it reaching the sea, as we used to say when I was a
+boy in Edmundton.  I like Bob," said Mr. Merrill, with his usual weakness
+for Christian names, "and he isn't any more like Dudley Worthington than
+I am.  If you were to ask me, I'd say he couldn't do a better thing than
+marry Cynthia."
+
+"Stephen!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill.  But in her heart she thought so, too.
+"What will Mr. Worthington say when he hears the young man has been
+coming to our house to see her?"
+
+Mr. Merrill had been thinking of that very thing, but with more amusement
+than concern.
+
+To return to Mr. Merrill's house, the three girls and the one young man
+were seated around the fire, and their talk, Merrill as it had begun, was
+becoming minute by minute more stilted.  This was largely the fault of
+Susan, who would not be happy until she had taken Jane upstairs and left
+Mr. Worthington and Cynthia together.  This matter had been arranged
+between the sisters before supper.  Susan found her opening at last, and
+upbraided Jane for her unfinished theme; Jane, having learned her lesson
+well, accused Susan.  But Cynthia, who saw through the ruse, declared
+that both themes were finished.  Susan, naturally indignant at such
+ingratitude, denied this.  The manoeuvre, in short, was executed very
+clumsily and very obviously, but executed nevertheless--the sisters
+marching out of the room under a fire of protests.  The reader, too, will
+no doubt think it a very obvious manoeuvre, but some things are managed
+badly in life as well as in books.
+
+Cynthia and Bob were left alone: left, moreover, in mortal terror of each
+other.  It is comparatively easy to open the door of a room and rush into
+a lady's arms if the lady be willing and alone.  But to be abandoned, as
+Susan had abandoned them, and with such obvious intent, creates quite a
+different atmosphere.  Bob had dared to hope for such an opportunity: had
+made up his mind during supper, while striving to be agreeable, just what
+he would do if the opportunity came.  Instead, all he could do was to sit
+foolishly in his chair and look at the coals, not so much as venturing to
+turn his head until the sound of footsteps had died away on the upper
+floors.  It was Cynthia who broke the silence and took command--a very
+different Cynthia from the girl who had thrown herself on the bed not
+three hours before.  She did not look at him, but stared with
+determination into the fire.
+
+"Bob, you must go," she said.
+
+"Go!" he cried.  Her voice loosed the fetters of his passion, and he
+dared to seize the band that lay on the arm of her chair.  She did not
+resist this.
+
+"Yes, you must go.  You should not have stayed for supper."
+
+"Cynthia," he said, "how can I leave you?  I will not leave you."
+
+"But you can and must," she replied.
+
+"Why?" he asked, looking at her in dismay.
+
+"You know the reason," she answered.
+
+"Know it?" he cried.  "I know why I should stay.  I know that I love you
+with my whole heart and soul.  I know that I love you as few men have
+ever loved--and that you are the one woman among millions who can inspire
+such a love."
+
+"No, Bob, no," she said, striving hard to keep her head, withdrawing her
+hand that it might not betray the treason of her lips.  Aware, strange as
+it may seem, of the absurdity of the source of what she was to say, for a
+trace of a smile was about her mouth as she gazed at the coals.  "You
+will get over this.  You are not yet out of college, and many such
+fancies happen there."
+
+For the moment he was incapable of speaking, incapable of finding an
+answer sufficiently emphatic.  How was he to tell her of the rocks upon
+which his love was built?
+
+How was he to declare that the very perils which threatened her had made
+a man of him, with all of a man's yearning to share these perils and
+shield her from them?  How was he to speak at all of those perils?  He
+did not declaim, yet when he spoke, an enduring sincerity which she could
+not deny was in his voice.
+
+"You know in your heart that what you say is not true, Cynthia.  Whatever
+happens, I shall always love you."
+
+Whatever happens: She shuddered at the words, reminding her as they did
+of all her vague misgivings and fears.
+
+"Whatever happens!" she found herself repeating them involuntarily.
+
+"Yes, whatever happens I will love you truly and faithfully.  I will
+never desert you, never deny you, as long as I live.  And you love me,
+Cynthia," he cried, "you love me, I know it."
+
+"No, no," she answered, her breath coming fast.  He was on his feet now,
+dangerously near her, and she rose swiftly to avoid him.
+
+She turned her head, that he might not read the denial in her eyes; and
+yet had to look at him again, for he was coming toward her quickly. "Don't
+touch me," she said, "don't touch me."
+
+He stopped, and looked at her so pitifully that she could scarce keep
+back her tears.
+
+"You do love me," he repeated.
+
+So they stood for a moment, while Cynthia made a supreme effort to speak
+calmly.
+
+"Listen, Bob," she said at last, "if you ever wish to see me again, you
+must do as I say.  You must write to your father, and tell him what you
+have done and--and what you wish to do.  You may come to me and tell me
+his answer, but you must not come to me before."  She would have said
+more, but her strength was almost gone.  Yes, and more would have implied
+a promise or a concession.  She would not bind herself even by a hint.
+But of this she was sure: that she would not be the means of wrecking his
+opportunities.  "And now--you must go."
+
+He stayed where he was, though his blood leaped within him, his
+admiration and respect for the girl outran his passion.  Robert
+Worthington was a gentleman.
+
+"I will do as you say, Cynthia," he answered, "but I am doing it for you.
+Whatever my father's reply may be will not change my love or my
+intentions.  For I am determined that you shall be my wife."
+
+With these words, and one long, lingering look, he turned and left
+her.  He had lacked the courage to speak of his father's bitterness and
+animosity.  Who will blame him?  Cynthia thought none the less of him
+for not telling her.  There was, indeed, no need now to describe Dudley
+Worthington's feelings.
+
+When the door had closed she stoke to the window, and listened to his
+footfalls in the snow until she heard them no more.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS
+
+Fond of her, although she was no more than an episode in his life
+Had exhausted the resources of the little school
+That which is the worst cruelty of all--the cruelty of selfishness
+The home is the very foundation-rock of the nation
+The old soldier found dependence hard to bear
+We know nothing of their problems or temptations
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, V3
+by Winston Churchill
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONISTON
+
+BOOK IV
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+The next morning Cynthia's heart was heavy as she greeted her new friends
+at Miss Sadler's school.  Life had made a woman of her long ago, while
+these girls had yet been in short dresses, and now an experience had come
+to her which few, if any, of these could ever know.  It was of no use for
+her to deny to herself that she loved Bob Worthington--loved him with the
+full intensity of the strong nature that was hers.  To how many of these
+girls would come such a love? and how many would be called upon to make
+such a renunciation as hers had been?  No wonder she felt out of place
+among them, and once more the longing to fly away to Coniston almost
+overcame her.  Jethro would forgive her, she knew, and stretch out his
+arms to receive her, and understand that some trouble had driven her to
+him.
+
+She was aroused by some one calling her name--some one whose voice
+sounded strangely familiar.  Cynthia was perhaps the only person in the
+school that day who did not know that Miss Janet Duncan had entered it.
+Miss Sadler certainly knew it, and asked Miss Duncan very particularly
+about her father and mother and even her brother.  Miss Sadler knew, even
+before Janet's unexpected arrival, that Mr. and Mrs. Duncan had come to
+Boston after Christmas, and had taken a large house in the Back Bay in
+order to be near their son at Harvard.  Mrs. Duncan was, in fact, a
+Bostonian, and more at home there than at any other place.
+
+Miss Sadler observed with a great deal of astonishment the warm embrace
+that Janet bestowed on Cynthia.  The occurrence started in Miss Sadler a
+train of thought, as a result of which she left the drawing-room where
+these reunions were held, and went into her own private study to write a
+note.  This she addressed to Mrs. Alexander Duncan, at a certain number
+on Beacon Street, and sent it out to be posted immediately.  In the
+meantime, Janet Duncan had seated herself on the sofa beside Cynthia, not
+having for an instant ceased to talk to her.  Of what use to write a
+romance, when they unfolded themselves so beautifully in real life!  Here
+was the country girl she had seen in Washington already in a fine way to
+become the princess, and in four months!  Janet would not have thought it
+possible for any one to change so much in such a time.  Cynthia listened,
+and wondered what language Miss Duncan would use if she knew how great
+and how complete that change had been.  Romances, Cynthia thought sadly,
+were one thing to theorize about and quite another thing to endure--and
+smiled at the thought.  But Miss Duncan had no use for a heroine without
+a heartache.
+
+It is not improbable that Miss Janet Duncan may appear with Miss Sally
+Broke in another volume.  The style of her conversation is known, and
+there is no room to reproduce it here.  She, too, had a heart, but she
+was a young woman given to infatuations, as Cynthia rightly guessed.
+Cynthia must spend many afternoons at her house--lunch with her, drive
+with her.  For one omission Cynthia was thankful: she did not mention Bob
+Worthington's name.  There was the romance under Miss Duncan's nose, and
+she did not see it.  It is frequently so with romancers.
+
+Cynthia's impassiveness, her complete poise, had fascinated Miss Duncan
+with the others.  Had there been nothing beneath that exterior, Janet
+would never have guessed it, and she would have been quite as happy.
+Cynthia saw very clearly that Mr. Worthington or no other man or woman
+could force Bob to marry Janet.
+
+The next morning, in such intervals as her studies permitted, Janet
+continued her attentions to Cynthia.  That same morning she had brought a
+note from her father to Miss Sadler, of the contents of which Janet knew
+nothing.  Miss Sadler retired into her study to read it, and two
+newspaper clippings fell out of it under the paper-cutter.  This was the
+note:--
+
+     "My DEAR MISS SADLER:
+
+     Mrs. Duncan has referred your note to me, and I enclose two
+     clippings which speak for themselves.  Miss Wetherell, I believe,
+     stands in the relation of ward to the person to whom they refer, and
+     her father was a sort of political assistant to this person.
+     Although, as you say, we are from that part of the country" (Miss
+     Sadler bad spoken of the Duncans as the people of importance there),
+     "it was by the merest accident that Miss Wetherell's connection with
+     this Jethro Bass was brought to my notice.
+
+     Sincerely yours,
+
+     "ALEXANDER DUNCAN."
+
+It is pleasant to know that there were people in the world who could snub
+Miss Sadler; and there could be no doubt, from the manner in which she
+laid the letter down and took up the clippings, that Miss Sadler felt
+snubbed: equally, there could be no doubt that the revenge would fall on
+other shoulders than Mr. Duncan's.  And when Miss Sadler proceeded to
+read the clippings, her hair would have stood on end with horror had it
+not been so efficiently plastered down.  Miss Sadler seized her pen, and
+began a letter to Mrs. Merrill.  Miss Sadler's knowledge of the
+proprieties--together with other qualifications--had made her school what
+it was.  No Cynthia Wetherells had ever before entered its sacred
+portals, or should again.
+
+The first of these clippings was the article containing the arraignment
+of Jethro Bass which Mr. Merrill had shown to his wife, and which had
+been the excuse for Miss Penniman's call.  The second was one which Mr.
+Duncan had clipped from the Newcastle Guardian of the day before, and
+gave, from Mr. Worthington's side, a very graphic account of the conflict
+which was to tear the state asunder.  The railroads were tired of paying
+toll to the chief of a band of thieves and cutthroats, to a man who had
+long throttled the state which had nourished him, to--in short,--to
+Jethro Bass.  Miss Sadler was not much interested in the figures and
+metaphors of political compositions.  Right had found a champion--the
+article continued--in Mr. Isaac D. Worthington of Brampton, president of
+the Truro Road and owner of large holdings elsewhere.  Mr. Worthington,
+backed by other respectable property interests, would fight this monster
+of iniquity to the death, and release the state from his thraldom.
+Jethro Bass, the article alleged, was already about his abominable work--
+had long been so--as in mockery of that very vigilance which is said to
+be the price of liberty.  His agents were busy in every town of the
+state, seeing to it that the slaves of Jethro Bass should be sent to the
+next legislature.
+
+And what was this system which he had built up among these rural
+communities?  It might aptly be called the System of Mortgages.  The
+mortgage--dread name for a dreadful thing--was the chief weapon of the
+monster.  Even as Jethro Bass held the mortgages of Coniston and Tarleton
+and round about, so his lieutenants held mortgages in every town and
+hamlet of the state, What was a poor farmer to do--?  His choice was not
+between right and wrong, but between a roof over the heads of his wife
+and children and no roof.  He must vote for the candidate of Jethro Bass
+end corruption or become a homeless wanderer.  How the gentleman and his
+other respectable backers were to fight the system the article did not
+say.  Were they to buy up all the mortgages?  As a matter of fact, they
+intended to buy up enough of these to count, but to mention this would be
+to betray the methods of Mr. Worthington's reform.  The first bitter
+frontier fighting between the advance cohorts of the new giant and the
+old--the struggle for the caucuses and the polls--had begun.  Miss Sadler
+cared but little and understood less of all this matter.  She lingered
+over the sentences which described Jethro Bass as a monster of iniquity,
+as a pariah with whom decent men would have no intercourse, and in the
+heat of her passion that one who had touched him had gained admittance to
+the most exclusive school for young ladies in the country she wrote a
+letter.
+
+Miss Sadler wrote the letter, and three hours later tore it up and wrote
+another and more diplomatic one.  Mrs. Merrill, though not by any means
+of the same importance as Mrs. Duncan, was not a person to be wantonly
+offended, and might--knowing nothing about the monster--in the goodness
+of her heart have taken the girl into her house.  Had it been otherwise,
+surely Mrs. Merrill would not have had the effrontery!  She would give
+Mrs. Merrill a chance.  The bell of release from studies was ringing as
+she finished this second letter, and Miss Sadler in her haste forgot to
+enclose the clippings.  She ran out in time to intercept Susan Merrill at
+the door, and to press into her hands the clippings and the note, with a
+request to take both to her mother.
+
+Although the Duncans dined in the evening, the Merrills had dinner at
+half-past one in the afternoon, when the girls returned from school.
+Mr. Merrill usually came home, but he had gone off somewhere for this
+particular day, and Mrs. Merrill had a sewing circle.  The girls sat
+down to dinner alone.  When they got up from the table, Susan suddenly
+remembered the note which she had left in her coat pocket.  She drew out
+the clippings with it.
+
+"I wonder what Miss Sadler is sending mamma clippings for," she said.
+"Why, Cynthia, they're about your uncle.  Look!"
+
+And she handed over the article headed "Jethro Bass."  Jane, who had
+quicker intuitions than her sister, would have snatched it from Cynthia's
+hand, and it was a long time before Susan forgave herself for her folly.
+Thus Miss Sadler had her revenge.
+
+It is often mercifully ordained that the mightiest blows of misfortune
+are tempered for us.  During the winter evenings in Coniston, Cynthia had
+read little newspaper attacks on Jethro, and scorned them as the cowardly
+devices of enemies.  They had been, indeed, but guarded and covert
+allusions--grimaces from a safe distance.  Cynthia's first sensation as
+she read was anger--anger so intense as to send all the blood in her body
+rushing to her head.  But what was this?  "Right had found a champion at
+last" in--in Isaac D. Worthington!  That was the first blow, and none but
+Cynthia knew the weight of it.  It sank but slowly into her
+consciousness, and slowly the blood left her face, slowly but surely:
+left it at length as white as the lace curtain of the window which she
+clutched in her distress.  Words which somebody had spoken were ringing
+in her ears.  Whatever happens!  "Whatever happens I will never desert
+you, never deny you, as long as I live."  This, then, was what he had
+meant by newspapers, and why he had come to her!
+
+The sisters, watching her, cried out in dismay.  There was no need to
+tell them that they were looking on at a tragedy, and all the love and
+sympathy in their hearts went out to her.
+
+"Cynthia!  Cynthia!  What is it?" cried Susan, who, thinking she would
+faint, seized her in her arms.  "What have I done?"
+
+Cynthia did not faint, being made of sterner substance.  Gently, but with
+that inexorable instinct of her kind which compels them to look for
+reliance within themselves even in the direst of extremities, Cynthia
+released herself from Susan's embrace and put a hand to her forehead.
+
+"Will you leave me here a little while--alone?" she said.
+
+It was Jane now who drew Susan out and shut the door of the parlor after
+them.  In utter misery they waited on the stairs while Cynthia fought out
+her battle for herself.
+
+When they were gone she sank down into the big chair under the reading
+lamp--the very chair in which he had sat only two nights before.  She saw
+now with a terrible clearness the thing which for so long had been but a
+vague premonition of disaster, and for a while she forgot the clippings.
+And when after a space the touch of them in her hand brought them back to
+her remembrance, she lacked the courage to read them through.  But not
+for long.  Suddenly her fear of them gave place to a consuming hatred of
+the man who had inspired these articles: of Isaac D. Worthington, for she
+knew that he must have inspired them.  And then she began again to read
+them.
+
+Truth, though it come perverted from the mouth of an enemy, has in itself
+a note to which the soul responds, let the mind deny as vehemently as it
+will.  Cynthia read, and as she read her body was shaken with sobs,
+though the tears came not.  Could it be true?  Could the least particle
+of the least of these fearful insinuations be true?  Oh, the treason of
+those whispers in a voice that was surely not her own, and yet which she
+could not hush!  Was it possible that such things could be printed about
+one whom she had admired and respected above all men--nay, whom she had
+so passionately adored from childhood?  A monster of iniquity, a pariah!
+The cruel, bitter calumny of those names!  Cynthia thought of his
+goodness and loving kindness and his charity to her and to many others.
+His charity!  The dreaded voice repeated that word, and sent a thought
+that struck terror into her heart: Whence had come the substance of that
+charity?  Then came another word--mortgage.  There it was on the paper,
+and at sight of it there leaped out of her memory a golden-green poplar
+shimmering against the sky and the distant blue billows of mountains in
+the west.  She heard the high-pitched voice of a woman speaking the word,
+and even then it had had a hateful sound, and she heard herself asking,
+"Uncle Jethro, what is a mortgage?"  He had struck his horse with the
+whip.
+
+Loyal though the girl was, the whispers would not hush, nor the doubts
+cease to assail her.  What if ever so small a portion of this were true?
+Could the whole of this hideous structure, tier resting upon tier, have
+been reared without something of a foundation?  Fiercely though she told
+herself she would believe none of it, fiercely though she hated Mr.
+Worthington, fervently though she repeated aloud that her love for Jethro
+and her faith in him had not changed, the doubts remained. Yet they
+remained unacknowledged.
+
+An hour passed.  It was a thing beyond belief that one hour could have
+held such a store of agony.  An hour passed, and Cynthia came dry-eyed
+from the parlor.  Susan and Jane, waiting to give her comfort when she
+was recovered a little from this unknown but overwhelming affliction,
+were fain to stand mute when they saw her to pay a silent deference to
+one whom sorrow had lifted far above them and transfigured.  That was the
+look on Cynthia's face.  She went up the stairs, and they stood in the
+hall not knowing what to do, whispering in awe-struck voices.  They were
+still there when Cynthia came down again, dressed for the street.  Jane
+seized her by the hand.
+
+"Where are you going, Cynthia?" she asked.
+
+"I shall be back by five," said Cynthia.
+
+She went up the hill, and across to old Louisburg Square, and up the hill
+again.  The weather had cleared, the violet-paned windows caught the
+slanting sunlight and flung it back across the piles of snow.  It was a
+day for wedding-bells.  At last Cynthia came to a queerly fashioned
+little green door that seemed all askew with the slanting street, and
+rang the bell, and in another moment was standing on the threshold of
+Miss Lucretia Penniman's little sitting room.  To Miss Lucretia, at her
+writing table, one glance was sufficient.  She rose quickly to meet the
+girl, kissed her unresponsive cheek, and led her to a chair.  Miss
+Lucretia was never one to beat about the bush, even in the gravest
+crisis.
+
+"You have read the articles," she said.
+
+Read them!  During her walk hither Cynthia had been incapable of thought,
+but the epithets and arraignments and accusations, the sentences and
+paragraphs, wars printed now, upon her brain, never, she believed, to be
+effaced.  Every step of the way she had been unconsciously repeating
+them.
+
+"Have you read them?" asked Cynthia.
+
+"Yes, my dear."
+
+"Has everybody read them?"  Did the whole world, then, know of her shame?
+
+"I am glad you came to me, my dear," said Miss Lucretia, taking her hand.
+"Have you talked of this to any one else?"
+
+"No," said Cynthia, simply.
+
+Miss Lucretia was puzzled.  She had not looked for apathy, but she did
+not know all of Cynthia's troubles.  She wondered whether she had
+misjudged the girl, and was misled by her attitude.
+
+"Cynthia," she said, with a briskness meant to hide emotion for Miss
+Lucretia had emotions, "I am a lonely old woman, getting too old, indeed,
+to finish the task of my life.  I went to see Mrs. Merrill the other day
+to ask her if she would let you come and live with me.  Will you?"
+
+Cynthia shook her head.
+
+"No, Miss Lucretia, I cannot," she answered.
+
+"I won't press it on you now," said Miss Lucretia.
+
+"I cannot, Miss Lucretia.  I'm going to Coniston."
+
+"Going to Coniston!" exclaimed Miss Lucretia.
+
+The name of that place--magic name, once so replete with visions of
+happiness and content--seemed to recall Cynthia's spirit from its flight.
+Yes, the spirit was there, for it flashed in her eyes as she turned and
+looked into Miss Lucretia's face.
+
+"Are these the articles you read?" she asked; taking the clippings from
+her muff.
+
+Miss Lucretia put on her spectacles.
+
+"I have seen both of them," she said.
+
+"And do you believe what they say about--about Jethro Bass?"
+
+Poor Miss Lucretia!  For once in her life she was at a loss.  She, too,
+paid a deference to that face, young as it was.  She had robbed herself
+of sleep trying to make up her mind what she would say upon such an
+occasion if it came.  A wonderful virgin faith had to be shattered, and
+was she to be the executioner?  She loved the girl with that strange,
+intense affection which sometimes comes to the elderly and the lonely,
+and she had prayed that this cup might pass from her.  Was it possible
+that it was her own voice using very much the same words for which she
+had rebuked Mrs. Merrill?
+
+"Cynthia," she said, "those articles were written by politicians, in a
+political controversy.  No such articles can ever be taken literally."
+
+"Miss Lucretia, do you believe what it says about Jethro Bass?" repeated
+Cynthia.
+
+How was she to avoid those eyes?  They pierced into, her soul, even as
+her own had pierced into Mrs. Merrill's.  Oh, Miss Lucretia, who pride
+yourself on your plain speaking, that you should be caught quibbling!
+Miss Lucretia blushed for the first time in many, years, and into her
+face came the light of battle.
+
+"I am a coward, my dear.  I deserve your rebuke.  To the best of my
+knowledge and belief, and so far as I can judge from the inquiries I have
+undertaken, Jethro Bass has made his living and gained and held his power
+by the methods described in those articles."
+
+Miss Lucretia took off her spectacles and wiped them.  She had committed
+a fine act of courage.
+
+Cynthia stood up.
+
+"Thank you," she said, "that is what I wanted to know."
+
+"But--"cried Miss Lucretia, in amazement and apprehension, "but what are
+you going to do?"
+
+"I am going to Coniston," said Cynthia, "to ask him if those things are
+true."
+
+"To ask him!"
+
+"Yes.  If he tells me they are true, then I shall believe them."
+
+"If he tells you?" Miss Lucretia gasped.  Here was a courage of which she
+had not reckoned.  "Do you think he will tell you?"
+
+"He will tell me, and I shall believe him, Miss Lucretia."
+
+"You are a remarkable girl, Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, involuntarily.
+Then she paused for a moment.  "Suppose he tells you they are true?  You
+surely can't live with him again, Cynthia."
+
+"Do you suppose I am going to desert him, Miss Lucretia?" she asked.
+"He loves me, and--and I love him."  This was the first time her voice had
+faltered.  "He kept my father from want and poverty, and he has brought
+me up as a daughter.  If his life has been as you say, I shall make my
+own living!"
+
+"How?" demanded Miss Lucretia, the practical part of her coming
+uppermost.
+
+"I shall teach school.  I believe I can get a position, in a place where
+I can see him often.  I can break his heart, Miss Lucretia, I--I can
+bring sadness to myself, but I will not desert him."
+
+Miss Lucretia stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say or do.
+She perceived that the girl had a spirit as strong as her own: that her
+plans were formed, her mind made up, and that no arguments could change
+her.
+
+"Why did you come to me?" she asked irrelevantly.
+
+"Because I thought that you would have read the articles, and I knew if
+you had, you would have taken the trouble to inform yourself of the
+world's opinion."
+
+Again Miss Lucretia stared at her.
+
+"I will go to Coniston with you," she said, "at least as far as
+Brampton."
+
+Cynthia's face softened a little at the words.
+
+"I would rather go alone, Miss Lucretia," she answered gently, but with
+the same firmness.  "I--I am very grateful to you for your kindness to me
+in Boston.  I shall not forget it--or you.  Good-by, Miss Lucretia."
+
+But Miss Lucretia, sobbing openly, gathered the girl in her arms and
+pressed her.  Age was coming on her indeed, that she should show such
+weakness.  For a long time she could not trust herself to speak, and then
+her words were broken.  Cynthia must come to her at the first sign of
+doubt or trouble: this, Miss Lucretia's house, was to be a refuge in any
+storm that life might send--and Miss Lucretia's heart.  Cynthia promised,
+and when she went out at last through the little door her own tears were
+falling, for she loved Miss Lucretia.
+
+Cynthia was going to Coniston.  That journey was as fixed, as inevitable,
+as things mortal can be.  She would go to Coniston unless she perished on
+the way.  No loving entreaties, no fears of Mrs. Merrill or her
+daughters, were of any avail.  Mrs. Merrill too, was awed by the vastness
+of the girl's sorrow, and wondered if her own nature were small by
+comparison.  She had wept, to be sure, at her husband's confession, and
+lain awake over it in the night watches, and thought of the early days of
+their marriage.
+
+And then, Mrs. Merrill told herself, Cynthia would have to talk with Mr.
+Merrill.  How was he to come unscathed out of that?  There was pain and
+bitterness in that thought, and almost resentment against Cynthia,
+quivering though she was with sympathy for the girl.  For Mrs. Merrill,
+though the canker remained, had already pardoned her husband and had
+asked the forgiveness of God for that pardon.  On other occasions, in
+other crisis, she had waited and watched for him in the parlor window,
+and to-night she was at the door before his key was in the lock, while he
+was still stamping the snow from his boots.  She drew him into the room
+and told him what had happened.
+
+"Oh, Stephen," she cried, "what are you going to say to her?"
+
+What, indeed?  His wife had sorrowed, but she had known the obstacles and
+perils by which he had been beset.  But what was he to say to Cynthia?
+Her very name had grown upon him, middle-aged man of affairs though he
+was, until the thought of it summoned up in his mind a figure of purity,
+and of the strength which was from purity.  He would not have believed it
+possible that the country girl whom they had taken into their house three
+months before should have wrought such an influence over them all.
+
+Even in the first hour of her sorrow which she had spent that afternoon
+in the parlor, Cynthia had thought of Mr. Merrill.  He could tell her
+whether those accusations were true or false, for he was a friend of
+Jethro's.  Her natural impulse--the primeval one of a creature which is
+hurt--had been to hide herself; to fly to her own room, and perhaps by
+nightfall the courage would come to her to ask him the terrible
+questions.  He was a friend of Jethro's.  An illuminating flash revealed
+to her the meaning of that friendship--if the accusations were true.  It
+was then she had thought of Miss Lucretia Penniman, and somehow she had
+found the courage to face the sunlight and go to her.  She would spare
+Mr. Merrill.
+
+But had she spared him?  Sadly the family sat down to supper without her,
+and after supper Mr. Merrill sent a message to his club that he could not
+attend a committee meeting there that evening.  He sat with his wife in
+the little writing room, he pretending to read and she pretending to sew,
+until the silence grew too oppressive, and they spoke of the matter that
+was in their hearts.  It was one of the bitterest evenings in Mr.
+Merrill's life, and there is no need to linger on it.  They talked
+earnestly of Cynthia, and of her future.  But they both knew why she did
+not come down to them.
+
+"So she is really going to Coniston," said Mr. Merrill.
+
+"Yes," answered Mrs. Merrill, "and I think she is doing right, Stephen."
+
+Mr. Merrill groaned.  His wife rose and put her hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Come, Stephen," she said gently, "you will see her in the morning.
+
+"I will go to Coniston with her," he said.
+
+"No," replied Mrs. Merrily "she wants to go alone.  And I believe it is
+best that she should."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+Great afflictions generally bring in their train a host of smaller
+sorrows, each with its own little pang.  One of these sorrows had been
+the parting with the Merrill family.  Under any circumstance it was not
+easy for Cynthia to express her feelings, and now she had found it very
+difficult to speak of the gratitude and affection which she felt.  But
+they understood--dear, good people that they were: no eloquence was
+needed with them.  The ordeal of breakfast over, and the tearful "God
+bless you, Miss Cynthia," of Ellen the parlor-maid, the whole family had
+gone with her to the station.  For Susan and Jane had spent their last
+day at Miss Sadler's school.
+
+Mr. Merrill had sent for the conductor and bidden him take care of Miss
+Wetherell, and recommend her in his name to a conductor on the Truro
+Road.  The man took off his cap to Mr. Merrill and called him by name and
+promised.  It was a dark day, and long after the train had pulled out
+Cynthia remembered the tearful faces of the family standing on the damp
+platform of the station.  As they fled northward through the flat river-
+meadows, the conductor would have liked to talk to her of Mr. Merrill;
+there were few employees on any railroad who did not know the genial and
+kindly president of the Grand Gulf and sympathize with his troubles.  But
+there was a look on the girl's face that forbade intrusion.  Passengers
+stared at her covertly, as though fascinated by that look, and some tried
+to fathom it.  But her eyes were firmly fixed upon a point far beyond
+their vision.  The car stopped many times, and flew on again, but nothing
+seemed to break her absorption.
+
+At last she was aroused by the touch of the conductor on her sleeve.  The
+people were beginning to file out of the car, and the train was under the
+shadow of the snow-covered sheds in the station of the state capital.
+Cynthia recognized the place, though it was cold and bare and very
+different in appearance from what it had been on the summer's evening
+when she had come into it with her father.  That, in effect, had been her
+first glimpse of the world, and well she recalled the thrill it had given
+her. The joy of such things was gone now, the rapture of holidays and new
+sights.  These were over, so she told herself.  Sorrow had quenched the
+thrills forever.
+
+The kind conductor led her to the eating room, and when she would not eat
+his concern drew greater than ever.  He took a strange interest in this
+young lady who had such a face and such eyes.  He pointed her out to his
+friend the Truro conductor, and gave him some sandwiches and fruit which
+he himself had bought, with instructions to press them on her during the
+afternoon.
+
+Cynthia could not eat.  She hated this place, with its memories.  Hated
+it, too, as a mart where men were bought and sold, for the wording of
+those articles ran in her head as though some priest of evil were
+chanting them in her ears.  She did not remember then the sweeter aspect
+of the old town, its pretty homes set among their shaded gardens--homes
+full of good and kindly people.  State House affairs were far removed
+from most of these, and the sickness and corruption of the body politic.
+And this political corruption, had she known it, was no worse than that
+of the other states in the wide Union: not so bad, indeed, as many,
+though this was small comfort.  No comfort at all to Cynthia, who did not
+think of it.
+
+After a while she rose and followed the new conductor to the Truro train,
+glad to leave the capital behind her.  She was going to the hills--to the
+mountains.  They, in truth, could not change, though the seasons passed
+over them, hot and cold, wet and dry.  They were immutable in their
+goodness.  Presently she saw them, the lower ones: the waters of the
+little stream beside her broke the black bonds of ice and raced over the
+rapids; the engine was puffing and groaning on the grade.  Then the sun
+crept out, slowly, from the indefinable margin of vapor that hung massed
+over the low country.
+
+Yes, she had come to the hills.  Up and up climbed the train, through the
+little white villages in the valley nooks, banked with whiter snow;
+through the narrow gorges,--sometimes hanging over them,--under steep
+granite walls seared with ice-filled cracks, their brows hung with
+icicles.
+
+Truro Pass is not so high as the Brenner, but it has a grand, wild look
+in winter, remote as it is from the haunts of men.  A fitting refuge, it
+might be, for a great spirit heavy with the sins of the world below.
+Such a place might have been chosen, in the olden time, for a monastery--
+a gray fastness built against the black forest over the crag looking down
+upon the green clumps of spruces against the snow.  Some vague longing
+for such a refuge was in Cynthia's heart as she gazed upon that silent
+place, and then the waters had already begun to run westward--the waters
+of Tumble Down brook, which flowed into Coniston Water above Brampton.
+The sun still had more than two hours to go on its journey to the hill
+crests when the train pulled into Brampton station.  There were but a few
+people on the platform, but the first face she saw as she stepped from
+the car was Lem Hallowell's.  It was a very red face, as we know, and its
+owner was standing in front of the Coniston stage, on runners now.  He
+stared at her for an instant, and no wonder, and then he ran forward with
+outstretched hands.
+
+"Cynthy--Cynthy Wetherell!" he cried.  "Great Godfrey!"
+
+He got so far, he seized her hands, and then he stopped, not knowing why.
+There were many more ejaculations and welcomes and what not on the end of
+his tongue.  It was not that she had become a lady--a lady of a type he
+had never before seen.  He meant to say that, too, in his own way, but he
+couldn't.  And that transformation would have bothered Lem but little.
+What was the change, then?  Why was he in awe of her--he, Lem Hallowell,
+who had never been in awe of any one?  He shook his head, as though
+openly confessing his inability to answer that question.  He wanted to
+ask others, but they would not come.
+
+"Lem," she said, "I am so glad you are here."
+
+"Climb right in, Cynthy.  I'll get the trunk."  There it lay, the little
+rawhide one before him on the boards, and he picked it up in his bare
+hands as though it had been a paper parcel.  It was a peculiarity of the
+stage driver that he never wore gloves, even in winter, so remarkable was
+the circulation of his blood.  After the trunk he deposited, apparently
+with equal ease, various barrels and boxes, and then he jumped in beside
+Cynthia, and they drove down familiar Brampton Street, as wide as a wide
+river; past the meeting-house with the terraced steeple; past the
+postoffice,--Cousin Ephraim's postoffice,--where Lem gave her a
+questioning look--but she shook her head, and he did not wait for the
+distribution of the last mail that day; past the great mansion of Isaac
+D. Worthington, where the iron mastiffs on the lawn were up to their
+muzzles in snow.  After that they took the turn to the right, which was
+the road to Coniston.
+
+Well-remembered road, and in winter or summer, Cynthia knew every tree
+and farmhouse beside it.  Now it consisted of two deep grooves in the
+deep snow; that was all, save for a curving turnout here and there for
+team to pass team.  Well-remembered scene!  How often had Cynthia looked
+upon it in happier days!  Such a crust was on the snow as would bear a
+heavy man; and the pasture hillocks were like glazed cakes in the window
+of a baker's shop.  Never had the western sky looked so yellow through
+the black columns of the pine trunks.  A lonely, beautiful road it was
+that evening.
+
+For a long time the silence of the great hills was broken only by the
+sweet jingle of the bells on the shaft.  Many a day, winter and summer,
+Lem had gone that road alone, whistling, and never before heeding that
+silence.  Now it seemed to symbolize a great sorrow: to be in subtle
+harmony with that of the girl at his side.  What that sorrow was he could
+not guess.  The good man yearned to comfort her, and yet he felt his
+comfort too humble to be noticed by such sorrow.  He longed to speak, but
+for the first time in his life feared the sound of his own voice.
+Cynthia had not spoken since she left the station, had not looked at him,
+had not asked for the friends and neighbors whom she had loved so well--
+had not asked for Jethro!  Was there any sorrow on earth to be felt like
+that?  And was there one to feel it?
+
+At length, when they reached the great forest, Lem Hallowell knew that he
+must speak or cry aloud.  But what would be the sound of his voice--after
+such an age of disuse?  Could he speak at all?  Broken and hoarse and
+hideous though the sound might be, he must speak.  And hoarse and broken
+it was.  It was not his own, but still it was a voice.
+
+"Folks--folks'll be surprised to see you, Cynthy."
+
+No, he had not spoken at all.  Yes, he had, for she answered him.
+
+"I suppose they will, Lem."
+
+"Mighty glad to have you back, Cynthy.  We think a sight of you.  We
+missed you."
+
+"Thank you, Lem."
+
+"Jethro hain't lookin' for you by any chance, be he?
+
+"No," she said.  But the question startled her.  Suppose he had not been
+at home!  She had never once thought of that.  Could she have borne to
+wait for him?
+
+After that Lem gave it up.  He had satisfied himself as to his vocal
+powers, but he had not the courage even to whistle.  The journey to
+Coniston was faster in the winter, and at the next turn of the road the
+little village came into view.  There it was, among the snows.  The pain
+in Cynthia's heart, so long benumbed, quickened when she saw it.  How
+write of the sharpness of that pain to those who have never known it?
+The sight of every gable brought its agony,--the store with the checker-
+paned windows, the harness shop, the meeting-house, the white parsonage
+on its little hill.  Rias Richardson ran out of the store in his carpet
+slippers, bareheaded in the cold, and gave one shout.  Lem heeded him
+not; did not stop there as usual, but drove straight to the tannery house
+and pulled up under the butternut tree.  Milly Skinner ran out on the
+porch, and gave one long look, and cried:--
+
+"Good Lord, it's Cynthy!"
+
+"Where's Jethro?" demanded Lem.
+
+Milly did not answer at once.  She was staring at Cynthia.
+
+"He's in the tannery shed," she said, "choppin' wood."  But still she
+kept her eyes on Cynthia's face.  "I'll fetch him."
+
+"No," said Cynthia, "I'll go to him there."
+
+She took the path, leaving Millicent with her mouth open, too amazed to
+speak again, and yet not knowing why.
+
+In the tannery shed!  Would Jethro remember what happened there almost
+six and thirty years before?  Would he remember how that other Cynthia
+had come to him there, and what her appeal had been?
+
+Cynthia came to the doors.  One of these was open now--both had been
+closed that other evening against the storm of sleet--and she caught a
+glimpse of him standing on the floor of chips and bark--tan-bark no more.
+Cynthia caught a glimpse of him, and love suddenly welled up into her
+heart as waters into a spring after a drought.  He had not seen her, not
+heard the sound of the sleigh-bells.  He was standing with his foot upon
+the sawbuck and the saw across his knee, he was staring at the woodpile,
+and there was stamped upon his face a look which no man or woman had ever
+seen there, a look of utter loneliness and desolation, a look as of a
+soul condemned to wander forever through the infinite, cold spaces
+between the worlds--alone.
+
+Cynthia stopped at sight of it.  What had been her misery and affliction
+compared to this?  Her limbs refused her, though she knew not whether she
+would have fled or rushed into his arms.  How long she stood thus, and he
+stood, may not be said, but at length he put down his foot and took the
+saw from his knee, his eyes fell upon her, and his lips spoke her name.
+
+"Cynthy!"
+
+Speechless, she ran to him and flung her arms about his neck, and he
+dropped the saw and held her tightly--even as he had held that other
+Cynthia in that place in the year gone by.  And yet not so.  Now he clung
+to her with a desperation that was terrible, as though to let go of her
+would be to fall into nameless voids beyond human companionship and love.
+But at last he did release her, and stood looking down into her face, as
+if seeking to read a sentence there.
+
+And how was she to pronounce that sentence!  Though her faith might be
+taken away, her love remained, and grew all the greater because he needed
+it.  Yet she knew that no subterfuge or pretence would avail her to hide
+why she had come.  She could not hide it.  It must be spoken out now,
+though death was preferable.
+
+And he was waiting.  Did he guess?  She could not tell.  He had spoken no
+word but her name.  He had expressed no surprise at her appearance, asked
+no reasons for it.  Superlatives of suffering or joy or courage are hard
+to convey--words fall so far short of the feeling.  And Cynthia's pain
+was so far beyond tears.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said, "yesterday something--something happened.  I
+could not stay in Boston any longer."
+
+He nodded.
+
+"I had to come to you.  I could not wait."
+
+He nodded again.
+
+"I--I read something."  To take a white-hot iron and sear herself would
+have been easier than this.
+
+"Yes," he said.
+
+She felt that the look was coming again--the look which she had surprised
+in his face.  His hands dropped lifelessly from her shoulders, and he
+turned and went to the door, where he stood with his back to her,
+silhouetted against the eastern sky all pink from the reflection of
+sunset.  He would not help her.  Perhaps he could not.  The things were
+true.  There had been a grain of hope within her, ready to sprout.
+
+"I read two articles from the Newcastle Guardian about you--about your
+life."
+
+"Yes," he said.  But he did not turn.
+
+"How you had--how you had earned your living.  How you had gained your
+power," she went on, her pain lending to her voice an exquisite note of
+many modulations.
+
+"Yes--Cynthy," he said, and still stared at the eastern sky.
+
+She took two steps toward him, her arms outstretched, her fingers opening
+and closing.  And then she stopped.
+
+"I would believe no one," she said, "I will believe no one--until--unless
+you tell me.  Uncle Jethro," she cried in agony, "Uncle Jethro, tell me
+that those things are not true!"
+
+She waited a space, but he did not stir.  There was no sound, save the
+song of Coniston Water under the shattered ice.
+
+"Won't you speak to me?" she whispered.  "Won't you tell me that they are
+not true?"
+
+His shoulders shook convulsively.  O for the right to turn to her and
+tell her that they were lies!  He would have bartered his soul for it.
+What was all the power in the world compared to this priceless treasure
+he had lost?  Once before he had cast it away, though without meaning to.
+Then he did not know the eternal value of love--of such love as those two
+women had given him.  Now he knew that it was beyond value, the one
+precious gift of life, and the knowledge had come too late.  Could he
+have saved his life if he had listened to that other Cynthia?
+
+"Won't you tell me that they are not true?"
+
+Even then he did not turn to her, but he answered.  Curious to relate,
+though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady--steady as it always
+had been.
+
+"I--I've seen it comin', Cynthy," he said.  "I never knowed anything I
+was afraid of before--but I was afraid of this.  I knowed what your
+notions of right and wrong was--your--your mother had them.  They're the
+principles of good people.  I--I knowed the day would come when you'd
+ask, but I wanted to be happy as long as I could.  I hain't been happy,
+Cynthy.  But you was right when you said I'd tell you the truth.  S-so I
+will.  I guess them things which you speak about are true--the way I got
+where I am, and the way I made my livin'.  They--they hain't put just as
+they'd ought to be, perhaps, but that's the way I done it in the main."
+
+It was thus that Jethro Bass met the supreme crisis of his life.  And who
+shall say he did not meet it squarely and honestly?  Few men of finer
+fibre and more delicate morals would have acquitted themselves as well.
+That was a Judgment Day for Jethro; and though he knew it not, he spoke
+through Cynthia to his Maker, confessing his faults freely and humbly,
+and dwelling on the justness of his punishment; putting not forward any
+good he may have done; nor thinking of it; nor seeking excuse because of
+the light that was in him.  Had he been at death's door in the face of
+nameless tortures, no man could have dragged such a confession from him.
+But a great love had been given him, and to that love he must speak the
+truth, even at the cost of losing it.
+
+But he was not to lose it.  Even as he was speaking a thrill of
+admiration ran through Cynthia, piercing her sorrow.  The superb strength
+of the man was there in that simple confession, and it is in the nature
+of woman to admire strength.  He had fought his fight, and gained, and
+paid the price without a murmur, seeking no palliation.  Cynthia had not
+come to that trial--so bitter for her--as a judge.  If the reader has
+seen youth and innocence sitting in the seat of justice, with age and
+experience at the bar, he has mistaken Cynthia.  She came to Coniston
+inexorable, it is true, because hers was a nature impelled to do right
+though it perish.  She did not presume to say what Jethro's lights and
+opportunities might have been.  Her own she knew, and by them she must
+act accordingly.
+
+When he had finished speaking, she stole silently to his side and slipped
+her hand in his.  He trembled violently at her touch.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said in a low tone, "I love you."
+
+At the words he trembled more violently still.
+
+"No, no, Cynthy," he answered thickly, "don't say that--I--I don't expect
+it, Cynthy, I know you can't--'twouldn't be right, Cynthy.  I hain't fit
+for it."
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I love you better than I have ever loved you
+in my life."
+
+Oh, how welcome were the tears! and how human!  He turned, pitifully
+incredulous, wondering that she should seek by deceit to soften the blow;
+he saw them running down her cheeks, and he believed.  Yes, he believed,
+though it seemed a thing beyond belief.  Unworthy, unfit though he were,
+she loved him.  And his own love as he gazed at her, sevenfold increased
+as it had been by the knowledge of losing her, changed in texture from
+homage to worship--nay, to adoration.  His punishment would still be
+heavy; but whence had come such a wondrous gift to mitigate it?
+
+"Oh, don't you believe me?" she cried, "can't you see that it is true?"
+
+And yet he could only hold her there at arm's length with that new and
+strange reverence in his face.  He was not worthy to touch her, but still
+she loved him.
+
+The flush had faded from the eastern sky, and the faintest border of
+yellow light betrayed the ragged outlines of the mountain as they walked
+together to the tannery house.
+
+Millicent, in the kitchen, was making great preparations--for Millicent.
+Miss Skinner was a person who had hitherto laid it down as a principle of
+life to pay deference or do honor to no human made of mere dust, like
+herself.  Millicent's exception; if Cynthia had thought about it, was a
+tribute of no mean order.  Cynthia, alas, did not think about it: she did
+not know that, in her absence, the fire had not been lighted in the
+evening, Jethro supping on crackers and milk and Milly partaking of the
+evening meal at home.  Moreover, Miss Skinner had an engagement with a
+young man.  Cynthia saw the fire, and threw off her sealskin coat which
+Mr. and Mrs. Merrill had given her for Christmas, and took down the
+saucepan from the familiar nail on which it hung.  It was a miraculous
+fact, for which she did not attempt to account, that she was almost
+happy: happy, indeed, in comparison to that which had been her state
+since the afternoon before.  Millicent snatched the saucepan angrily from
+her hand.
+
+"What be you doin', Cynthy?" she demanded.
+
+Such was Miss Skinner's little way of showing deference.  Though
+deference is not usually vehement, Miss Skinner's was very real,
+nevertheless.
+
+"Why, Milly, what's the matter?" exclaimed Cynthia, in astonishment.
+
+"You hain't a-goin' to do any cookin', that's all," said Milly, very red
+in the face.
+
+"But I've always helped," said Cynthia.  "Why not?"
+
+Why not?  A tribute was one thing, but to have to put the reasons for
+that tribute, into words was quite another.
+
+"Why not?" cried Milly, "because you hain't a-goin' to, that's all."
+
+Strange deference!  But Cynthia turned and looked at the girl with a
+little, sad smile of comprehension and affection.  She took her by the
+shoulders and kissed her.
+
+Whereupon a most amazing thing happened--Millicent burst into tears--
+wild, ungovernable tears they were.
+
+"Because you hain't a-goin' to," she repeated, her words interspersed
+with violent sobs.  "You go 'way, Cynthy," she cried, "git out!"
+
+"Milly," said Cynthia, shaking her head, "you ought to be ashamed of
+yourself."  But they were not words of reproof.  She took a little lamp
+from the shelf, and went up the narrow stairs to her own room in the
+gable, where Lemuel had deposited the rawhide trunk.
+
+Though she had had nothing all day, she felt no hunger, but for Milly's
+sake she tried hard to eat the supper when it came.  Before it had fairly
+begun Moses Hatch had arrived, with Amandy and Eben; and Rias Richardson
+came in, and other neighbors, to say a word of welcome to hear (if the
+truth be not too disparaging to their characters) the reasons for her
+sudden appearance, and such news of her Boston experiences as she might
+choose to give them.  They had learned from Lem Hallowell that Cynthia
+had returned a lady: a real lady, not a sham one who relied on airs and
+graces, such as had come to Coniston the summer before to look for a
+summer place on the painter's recommendation.  Lem was not a gossip, in
+the disagreeable sense of the term, and he had not said a word to his
+neighbors of his feelings on that terrible drive from Brampton.  Knowing
+that some blow had fallen upon Cynthia, he would have spared her these
+visits if he could.  But Lem was wise and kind, so he merely said that
+she had returned a lady.
+
+And they had found a lady.  As they stood or sat around the kitchen (Eben
+and Rias stood), Cynthia talked to them--about Coniston: rather, be it
+said, that they talked about Coniston in answer to her questions.  The
+sledding had been good; Moses had hauled so many thousand feet of lumber
+to Brampton; Sam Price's woman (she of Harwich) had had a spell of
+sciatica; Chester Perkins's bull had tossed his brother-in-law, come from
+Iowy on a visit, and broke his leg; yes, Amandy guessed her dyspepsy was
+somewhat improved since she had tried Graham's Golden Remedy--it made her
+feel real lighthearted; Eben (blushing furiously) was to have the Brook
+Farm in the spring; there was a case of spotted fever in Tarleton.
+
+Yes, Lem Hallowell had been right, Cynthia was a lady, but not a mite
+stuck up.  What was the difference in her?  Not her clothes, which she
+wore as if she had been used to them all her life.  Poor Cynthia, the
+clothes were simple enough.  Not her manner, which was as kind and sweet
+as ever.  What was it that compelled their talk about themselves, that
+made them refrain from asking those questions about Boston, and why she
+had come back?  Some such query was running in their minds as they
+talked, while Jethro, having finished his milk and crackers, sat silent
+at the end of the table with his eyes upon her.  He rose when Mr.
+Satterlee came in.
+
+Mr. Satterlee looked at her, and then he went quietly across the room and
+kissed her.  But then Mr. Satterlee was the minister.  Cynthia thought
+his hair a little thinner and the lines in his face a little deeper.  And
+Mr. Satterlee thought perhaps he was the only one of the visitors who
+guessed why she had come back.  He laid his thin hand on her head, as
+though in benediction, and sat down beside her.
+
+"And how is the learning, Cynthia?" he asked.
+
+Now, indeed, they were going to hear something at last.  An intuition
+impelled Cynthia to take advantage of that opportunity.
+
+"The learning has become so great, Mr. Satterlee," she said, "that I have
+come back to try to make some use of it.  It shall be wasted no more."
+
+She did not dare to look at Jethro, but she was aware that he had sat
+down abruptly.  What sacrifice will not a good woman make to ease the
+burden of those whom she loves!  And Jethro's burden would be heavy
+enough.  Such a woman will speak almost gayly, though her heart be heavy.
+But Cynthia's was lighter now than it had been.
+
+"I was always sure you would not waste your learning, Cynthia," said Mr.
+Satterlee, gravely; "that you would make the most of the advantages God
+has given you."
+
+"I am going to try, Mr. Satterlee.  I cannot be content in idleness.  I
+was wasting time in Boston, and I--I was not happy so far away from you
+all--from Uncle Jethro.  Mr. Satterlee, I am going to teach school.  I
+have always wanted to, and now I have made up my mind to do it."
+
+This was Jethro's punishment.  But had she not lightened it for him a
+little by choosing this way of telling him that she could not eat his
+bread or partake of his bounty?  Though by reason of that bounty she was
+what she was, she could not live and thrive on it longer, coming as it
+did from such a source.  Mr. Satterlee might perhaps surmise the truth,
+but the town and village would think her ambition a very natural one,
+certainly no better time could have been chosen to announce it.
+
+"To teach school."  She was sure now that Mr. Satterlee knew and
+approved, and perceived something, at least, of her little ruse.  He was
+a man whose talents fitted him for a larger flock than he had at
+Coniston, but he possessed neither the graces demanded of city ministers
+nor the power of pushing himself.  Never was a more retiring man.  The
+years she had spent in his study had not gone for nothing, for he who has
+cherished the bud can predict what the flower will be, and Mr. Satterlee
+knew her spiritually better than any one else in Coniston.  He had heard
+of her return, and had walked over to the tannery house, full of fears,
+the remembrance of those expressions of simple faith in Jethro coming
+back to his mind.  Had the revelation which he had so long expected come
+at last? and how had she taken it? would it embitter her?  The good man
+believed that it would not, and now he saw that it had not, and rejoiced
+accordingly.
+
+"To teach school," he said.  "I expected that you would wish to, Cynthia.
+It is a desire that most of us have, who like books and what is in them.
+I should have taught school if I had not become a minister.  It is a high
+calling, and an absorbing one, to develop the minds of the young."  Mr.
+Satterlee was often a little discursive, though there was reason for it
+on this occasion, and Moses Hatch half closed his eyes and bowed his head
+a little out of sheer habit at the sound of the minister's voice.  But he
+raised it suddenly at the next words.  "I was in Brampton yesterday, and
+saw Mr. Graves, who is on the prudential committee of that district.  You
+may not have heard that Miss Goddard has left.  They have not yet
+succeeded in filling her place, and I think it more than likely that you
+can get it."
+
+Cynthia glanced at Jethro, but the habit of years was so strong in him
+that he gave no sign.
+
+"Do you think so, Mr. Satterlee?" she said gratefully.  "I had heard of
+the place, and hoped for it, because it is near enough for me to spend
+the Saturdays and Sundays with Uncle Jethro.  And I meant to go to
+Brampton tomorrow to see about it."
+
+"I will go with you," said the minister; "I have business in Brampton to-
+morrow."  He did not mention that this was the business.
+
+When at length they had all departed, Jethro rose and went about the
+house making fast the doors, as was his custom, while Cynthia sat staring
+through the bars at the dying embers in the stove.  He knew now, and it
+was inevitable that he should know, what she had made up her mind to do.
+It had been decreed that she, who owed him everything, should be made to
+pass this most dreadful of censures upon his whole life.  Oh, the cruelty
+of that decree!
+
+How, she mused, would it affect him?  Had the blow been so great that he
+would relinquish those practices which had become a lifelong habit with
+him?  Would he (she caught her breath at this thought) would he abandon
+that struggle with Isaac D. Worthington in which he was striving to
+maintain the mastery of the state by those very practices?  Cynthia hated
+Mr. Worthington.  The term is not too strong, and it expresses her
+feeling.  But she would have got down on her knees on the board floor of
+the kitchen that very night and implored Jethro to desist from that
+contest, if she could.  She remembered how, in her innocence, she had
+believed that the people had given Jethro his power,--in those days when
+she was so proud of that very power,--now she knew that he had wrested it
+from them.  What more supreme sacrifice could he make than to relinquish
+it!  Ah, there was a still greater sacrifice that Jethro was to make, had
+she known it.
+
+He came and stood over her by the stove, and she looked up into his face
+with these yearnings in her eyes.  Yes, she would have thrown herself on
+her knees, if she could.  But she could not.  Perhaps he would abandon
+that struggle.  Perhaps--perhaps his heart was broken.  And could a man
+with a broken heart still fight on?  She took his hand and pressed it
+against her face, and he felt that it was wet with her tears.
+
+"B-better go to bed now, Cynthy," he said; "m-must be worn out--m-must be
+worn out."
+
+He stooped and kissed her on the forehead.  It was thus that Jethro Bass
+accepted his sentence.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+At sunrise, in that Coniston hill-country, it is the western hills which
+are red; and a distant hillock on the meadow farm which was soon to be
+Eden's looked like the daintiest conical cake with pink icing as Cynthia
+surveyed the familiar view the next morning.  There was the mountain, the
+pastures on the lower slopes all red, too, and higher up the dark masses
+of bristling spruce and pine and hemlock mottled with white where the
+snow-covered rocks showed through.
+
+Sunrise in January is not very early, and sunrise at any season is not
+early for Coniston.  Cynthia sat at her window, and wondered whether that
+beautiful landscape would any longer be hers.  Her life had grown up on
+it; but now her life had changed.  Would the beauty be taken from it,
+too?  Almost hungrily she gazed at the scene.  She might look upon it
+again--many times, perhaps--but a conviction was strong in her that its
+daily possession would now be only a memory.
+
+Mr. Satterlee was as good as his word, for he was seated in the stage
+when it drew up at the tannery house, ready to go to Brampton.  And as
+they drove away Cynthia took one last look at Jethro standing on the
+porch.  It seemed to her that it had been given her to feel all things,
+and to know all things: to know, especially, this strange man, Jethro
+Bass, as none other knew him, and to love him as none other loved him.
+The last severe wrench was come, and she had left him standing there
+alone in the cold, divining what was in his heart as though it were in
+her own.  How worthless was this mighty power which he had gained, how
+hateful, when he could not bestow the smallest fragment of it upon one
+whom he loved?  Someone has described hell as disqualification in the
+face of opportunity.  Such was Jethro's torment that morning as he saw
+her drive away, the minister in the place where he should have been, at
+her side, and he, Jethro Bass, as helpless as though he had indeed been
+in the pit among the flames.  Had the prudential committee at Brampton
+promised the appointment ten times over, he might still have obtained it
+for her by a word.  And he must not speak even that word.  Who shall say
+that a large part of the punishment of Jethro Bass did not come to him in
+the life upon this earth.
+
+Some such thoughts were running in Cynthia's head as they jingled away to
+Brampton that dazzling morning.  Perhaps the stage driver, too, who knew
+something of men and things and who meddled not at all, had made a guess
+at the situation.  He thought that Cynthia's spirits seemed lightened a
+little, and he meant to lighten them more; so he joked as much as his
+respect for his passengers would permit, and told the news of Brampton.
+Not the least of the news concerned the first citizen of that place.
+There was a certain railroad in the West which had got itself much into
+Congress, and much into the newspapers, and Isaac D. Worthington had got
+himself into that railroad: was gone West, it was said on that business,
+and might not be back for many weeks.  And Lem Hallowell remembered when
+Mr. Worthington was a slim-cheated young man wandering up and down
+Coniston Water in search of health.  Good Mr. Satterlee, thinking this a
+safe subject, allowed himself to be led into a discussion of the first
+citizen's career, which indeed had something fascinating in it.
+
+Thus they jingled into Brampton Street and stopped before the cottage of
+Judge Graves--a courtesy title.  The judge himself came to the door and
+bestowed a pronounced bow on the minister, for Mr. Satterlee was honored
+in Brampton.  Just think of what Ezra Graves might have looked like, and
+you have him.  He greeted Cynthia, too, with a warm welcome--for Ezra
+Graves,--and ushered them into a best parlor which was reserved for
+ministers and funerals and great occasions in general, and actually
+raised the blinds.  Then Mr. Satterlee, with much hemming and hawing,
+stated the business which had brought them, while Cynthia looked out of
+the window.
+
+Mr. Graves sat and twirled his lean thumbs.  He went so far as to say
+that he admired a young woman who scorned to live in idleness, who wished
+to impart the learning with which she had been endowed.  Fifteen
+applicants were under consideration for the position, and the prudential
+committee had so far been unable to declare that any of them were
+completely qualified.  (It was well named, that prudential committee?)
+Mr. Graves, furthermore, volunteered that he had expressed a wish to
+Colonel Prescott (Oh, Ephraim, you too have got a title with your new
+honors!), to Colonel Prescott and others, that Miss Wetherell might take
+the place.  The middle term opened on the morrow, and Miss Bruce, of the
+Worthington Free Library, had been induced to teach until a successor
+could be appointed, although it was most inconvenient for Miss Bruce.
+
+Could Miss Wetherell start in at once, provided the committee agreed?
+Cynthia replied that she would like nothing better.  There would be an
+examination before Mr. Errol, the Brampton Superintendent of Schools.  In
+short, owing to the pressing  nature of the occasion, the judge would
+take the liberty of calling the committee together immediately.  Would
+Mr. Satterlee and Miss Wetherell make themselves at home in the parlor?
+
+It very frequently happens that one member of a committee is the brain,
+and the other members form the body of it.  It was so in this case.  Ezra
+Graves typified all of prudence there was about it, which, it must be
+admitted, was a great deal.  He it was who had weighed in the balance the
+fifteen applicants and found them wanting.  Another member of the
+committee was that comfortable Mr. Dodd, with the tuft of yellow beard,
+the hardware dealer whom we have seen at the baseball game.  Mr. Dodd was
+not a person who had opinions unless they were presented to him from
+certain sources, and then he had been known to cling to them tenaciously.
+It is sufficient to add that, when Cynthia Wetherell's name was mentioned
+to him, he remembered the girl to whom Bob Worthington had paid such
+marked attentions on the grand stand.  He knew literally nothing else
+about Cynthia.  Judge Graves, apparently, knew all about her; this was
+sufficient, at that time, for Mr. Dodd; he was sick and tired of the
+whole affair, and if, by the grace of heaven, an applicant had been sent
+who conformed with Judge Graves's multitude of requirements, he was
+devoutly thankful.  The other member, Mr. Hill, was a feed and lumber
+dealer, and not a very good one, for he was always in difficulties;
+certain scholarly attainments were attributed to him, and therefore he
+had been put on the committee.  They met in Mr. Dodd's little office back
+of the store, and in five minutes Cynthia was a schoolmistress, subject
+to examination by Mr. Errol.
+
+Just a word about Mr. Errol.  He was a retired lawyer, with some means,
+who took an interest in town affairs to occupy his time.  He had a very
+delicate wife, whom he had been obliged to send South at the beginning of
+the winter.  There she had for a while improved, but had been taken ill
+again, and two days before Cynthia's appointment he had been summoned to
+her bedside by a telegram.  Cynthia could go into the school, and her
+examination would take place when Mr. Errol returned.
+
+All this was explained by the judge when, half an hour after he had left
+them, he returned to the best parlor.  Miss Wetherell would, then, be
+prepared to take the school the following morning.  Whereupon the judge
+shook hands with her, and did not deny that he had been instrumental in
+the matter.
+
+"And, Mr. Satterlee, I am so grateful to you," said Cynthia, when they
+were in the street once more.
+
+"My dear Cynthia, I did nothing," answered the minister, quite bewildered
+by the quick turn affairs had taken; "it is your own good reputation that
+got you the place."
+
+Nevertheless Mr. Satterlee had done his share in the matter.  He had
+known Mr. Graves for a long time, and better than any other person in
+Brampton.  Mr. Graves remembered Cynthia Ware, and indeed had spoken to
+Cynthia that day about her mother.  Mr. Graves had also read poor William
+Wetherell's contributions to the Newcastle Guardian, and he had not read
+that paper since they had ceased.  From time to time Mr. Satterlee had
+mentioned his pupil to the judge, whose mind had immediately flown to her
+when the vacancy occurred.  So it all came about.
+
+"And now," said Mr. Satterlee, "what will you do, Cynthia?  We've got the
+good part of a day to arrange where you will live, before the stage
+returns."
+
+"I won't go back to-night, I think," said Cynthia, turning her head away;
+"if you would be good enough to tell Uncle Jethro to send my trunk and
+some other things."
+
+"Perhaps that is just as well," assented the minister, understanding
+perfectly.  "I have thought that Miss Bruce might be glad to board you,"
+he continued, after a pause.  "Let us go to see her."
+
+"Mr. Satterlee," said Cynthia, "would you mind if we went first to see
+Cousin Ephraim?"
+
+"Why, of course, we must see Ephraim," said Mr. Satterlee, briskly.  So
+they walked on past the mansion of the first citizen, and the new block
+of stores which the first citizen had built, to the old brick building
+which held the Brampton post-office, and right through the door of the
+partition into the sanctum of the postmaster himself, which some one had
+nicknamed the Brampton Club.  On this occasion the postmaster was seated
+in his shirt sleeves by the stove, alone, his listeners being conspicuously
+absent.  Cynthia, who had caught a glimpse of him through the little mail-
+window, thought he looked very happy and comfortable.
+
+"Great Tecumseh!" he cried,--an exclamation he reserved for extraordinary
+occasions, "if it hain't Cynthy!"
+
+He started to hobble toward her, but Cynthia ran to him.
+
+"Why," said he, looking at her closely after the greeting was over, "you
+be changed, Cynthy.  Mercy, I don't know as I'd have dared done that if
+I'd seed you first.  What have you b'en doin' to yourself?  You must have
+seed a whole lot down there in Boston.  And you're a full-blown lady,
+too."
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not, Cousin Eph," she answered, trying to smile.
+
+"Yes, you be," he insisted, still scrutinizing her, vainly trying to
+account for the change.  Tact, as we know, was not Ephraim's strong
+point.  Now he shook his head.  "You always was beyond me.  Got a sort of
+air about you, and it grows on you, too.  Wouldn't be surprised," he
+declared, speaking now to the minister, "wouldn't be a mite surprised to
+see her in the White House, some day."
+
+"Now, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, coloring a little, "you mustn't talk
+nonsense.  What have you done with your coat?  You have no business to go
+without it with your rheumatism."
+
+"It hain't b'en so bad since Uncle Sam took me over again, Cynthy," he
+answered, "with nothin' to do but sort letters in a nice hot room."  The
+room was hot, indeed.  "But where did you come from?"
+
+"I grew tired of being taught, Cousin Eph.  I--I've always wanted to
+teach.  Mr. Satterlee has been with me to see Mr. Graves, and they've
+given me Miss Goddard's place.  I'm coming to Brampton to live, to-day."
+
+"Great Tecumseh!" exclaimed Ephraim again, overpowered by the yews.  "I
+want to know!  What does Jethro say to that?"
+
+"He--he is willing," she replied in a low voice.
+
+"Well," said Ephraim, "I always thought you'd come to it.  It's in the
+blood, I guess--teachin'.  Your mother had it too.  I'm kind of sorry for
+Jethro, though, so I be.  But I'm glad for myself, Cynthy.  So you're
+comin' to Brampton to live with me!
+
+"I was going to ask Miss Bruce to take me in," said Cynthia.
+
+"No you hain't, anything of the kind," said Ephraim, indignantly.  "I've
+got a little house up the street, and a room all ready for you."
+
+"Will you let me share expenses, Cousin Eph?"
+
+"I'll let you do anything you want," said he, "so's you come.  Don't you
+think she'd ought to come and take care of an old man, Mr. Satterlee?"
+
+Mr. Satterlee turned.  He had been contemplating, during this
+conversation, a life-size print of General Grant under two crossed flags,
+that was hung conspicuously on the wall.
+
+"I do not think you could do better, Cynthia," he answered, smiling.  The
+minister liked Ephraim, and he liked a little joke, occasionally.  He
+felt that one would not be, particularly out of place just now; so he
+repeated, "I do not think you could do better than to accept the offer of
+Colonel Prescott."
+
+Ephraim grew very red, as was his wont when twitted about his new title.
+He took things literally.
+
+"I hain't a colonel, no more than you be, Mr. Satterlee.  But the boys
+down here will have it so."
+
+Three days later, by the early train which leaves the state capital at an
+unheard-of hour in the morning, a young man arrived in Brampton.  His jaw
+seemed squarer than ever to the citizens who met the train out of
+curiosity, and to Mr. Dodd, who was expecting a pump; and there was a set
+look on his face like that of a man who is going into a race or a fight.
+Mr. Dodd, though astonished, hastened toward him.
+
+"Well, this is unexpected, Bob," said he.  "How be you?  Harvard College
+failed up?"
+
+For Mr. Dodd never let slip a chance to assure a member of the
+Worthington family of his continued friendship.
+
+"How are you, Mr. Dodd?" answered Bob, nodding at him carelessly, and
+passing on.  Mr. Dodd did not dare to follow.  What was young Worthington
+doing in Brampton, and his father in the West on that railroad business?
+Filled with curiosity, Mr. Dodd forgot his pump, but Bob was already
+striding into Brampton Street, carrying his bag.  If he had stopped for a
+few moments with the hardware dealer, or chatted with any of the dozen
+people who bowed and stared at him, he might have saved himself a good
+deal of trouble.  He turned in at the Worthington mansion, and rang the
+bell, which was answered by Sarah, the housemaid.
+
+"Mr. Bob!" she exclaimed.
+
+"Where's Mrs. Holden?" he asked.
+
+Mrs. Holden was the elderly housekeeper.  She had gone, unfortunately, to
+visit a bereaved relative; unfortunately for Bob, because she, too, might
+have told him something.
+
+"Get me some breakfast, Sarah.  Anything," he commanded, "and tell Silas
+to hitch up the black trotters to my cutter."
+
+Sarah, though in consternation, did as she was bid.  The breakfast was
+forthcoming, and in half an hour Silas had the black trotters at the
+door.  Bob got in without a word, seized the reins, the cutter flew down
+Brampton Street (observed by many of the residents thereof) and turned
+into the Coniston road.  Silas said nothing.  Silas, as a matter of fact,
+never did say anything.  He had been the Worthington coachman for five
+and twenty years, and he was known in Brampton as Silas the Silent.
+Young Mr. Worthington had no desire to talk that morning.
+
+The black trotters covered the ten miles in much quicker time than Lem
+Hallowell could do it in his stage, but the distance seemed endless to
+Bob.  It was not much more than half an hour after he had left Brampton
+Street, however, that he shot past the store, and by the time Rias
+Richardson in his carpet slippers reached the platform the cutter was in
+front of the tannery house, and the trotters, with their sides smoking,
+were pawing  up the snow under the butternut tree.
+
+Bob leaped out, hurried up the path, and knocked at the door.  It was
+opened by Jethro Bass himself
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Bass," said the young man, gravely, and he held out
+his hand.  Jethro gave him such a scrutinizing look as he had given many
+a man whose business he cared to guess, but Bob looked fearlessly into
+his eyes.  Jethro took his hand.
+
+"C-come in," he said.
+
+Bob went into that little room where Jethro and Cynthia had spent so many
+nights together, and his glance flew straight to the picture on the
+wall,--the portrait of Cynthia Wetherell in crimson and seed pearls, so
+strangely set amidst such surroundings.  His glance went to the portrait,
+and his feet followed, as to a lodestone.  He stood in front of it for
+many minutes, in silence, and Jethro watched him.  At last he turned.
+
+"Where is she?" he asked.
+
+It was a queer question, and Jethro's answer was quite as lacking in
+convention.
+
+"G-gone to Brampton--gone to Brampton."
+
+"Gone to Brampton!  Do you mean to say--?  What is she doing there?" Bob
+demanded.
+
+"Teachin' school," said Jethro; "g-got Miss Goddard's place."
+
+Bob did not reply for a moment.  The little schoolhouse was the only
+building in Brampton he had glanced at as he came through.  Mrs. Merrill
+had told him that she might take that place, but he had little imagined
+she was already there on her platform facing the rows of shining little
+faces at the desks.  He had deemed it more than possible that he might
+see Jethro at Coniston, but he had not taken into account that which he
+might say to him.  Bob had, indeed, thought of nothing but Cynthia, and
+of the blow that had fallen upon her.  He had tried to realize the,
+multiple phases of the situation which confronted him.  Here was the man
+who, by the conduct of his life, had caused the blow; he, too, was her
+benefactor; and again, this same man was engaged in the bitterest of
+conflicts with his father, Isaac D. Worthington, and it was this conflict
+which had precipitated that blow.  Bob could not have guessed, by looking
+at Jethro Bass, how great was the sorrow which had fallen upon him.  But
+Bob knew that Jethro hated his father, must hate him now, because of
+Cynthia, with a hatred given to few men to feel.  He thought that Jethro
+would crush Mr. Worthington and ruin him if he could; and Bob believed he
+could.
+
+What was he to say?  He did not fear Jethro, for Bob Worthington had
+courage enough; but these things were running in his mind, and he felt
+the power of the man before him, as all men did.  Bob went to the window
+and came back again.  He knew that he must speak.
+
+"Mr. Bass," he said at last, "did Cynthia ever mention me to you?"
+
+"No," said Jethro.
+
+"Mr. Bass, I love her.  I have told her so, and I have asked her to be my
+wife."
+
+There was no need, indeed, to have told Jethro this.  The shock of that
+revelation had come to him when he had seen the trotters, had been
+confirmed when the young man had stood before the portrait.  Jethro's
+face might have twitched when Bob stood there with his back to him.
+
+Jethro could not speak.  Once more there had come to him a moment when he
+would not trust his voice to ask a question.  He dreaded the answer,
+though none might have surmised this.  He knew Cynthia.  He knew that,
+when she had given her heart, it was for all time.  He dreaded the
+answer; because it might mean that her sorrow was doubled.
+
+"I believe," Bob continued painfully, seeing that Jethro would say
+nothing, "I believe that Cynthia loves me.  I should not dare to say it
+or to hope it, without reason.  She has not said so, but--" the words
+were very hard for him, yet he stuck manfully to the truth; "but she told
+me to write to my father and let him know what I had done, and not to
+come back to her until I had his answer.  This," he added, wondering that
+a man could listen to such a thing without a sign, "this was before--
+before she had any idea of coming home."
+
+Yes, Cynthia, did love him.  There was no doubt about it in Jethro's
+mind.  She would not have bade Bob write to his father if she had not
+loved him.  Still Jethro did not speak, but by some intangible force
+compelled Bob to go on.
+
+"I shall write to my father as soon as he comes back from the West, but I
+wish to say to you, Mr. Bass, that whatever his answer contains, I mean
+to marry Cynthia.  Nothing can shake me from that resolution.  I tell you
+this because my father is fighting you, and you know what he will say."
+(Jethro knew Dudley Worthington well enough to appreciate that this would
+make no particular difference in his opposition to the marriage except to
+make that opposition more vehement.) "And because you do not know me,"
+continued Bob.  "When I say a thing, I mean it.  Even if my father cuts
+me off and casts me out, I will marry Cynthia.  Good-by, Mr. Bass."
+
+Jethro took the young man's hand again.  Bob imagined that he even
+pressed it--a little--something he had never done before.
+
+"Good-by, Bob."
+
+Bob got as far as the door.
+
+"Er--go back to Harvard, Bob?"
+
+"I intend to, Mr. Bass."
+
+"Er--Bob?"
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"D-don't quarrel with your father--don't quarrel with your father."
+
+"I shan't be the one to quarrel, Mr. Bass."
+
+"Bob--hain't you pretty young--pretty young?"
+
+"Yes," said Bob, rather unexpectedly, "I am."  Then he added, "I know my
+own mind."
+
+"P-pretty young.  Don't want to get married yet awhile--do you?"
+
+"Yes, I do," said Bob, "but I suppose I shan't be able to."
+
+"Er--wait awhile, Bob.  Go back to Harvard.  W-wouldn't write that letter
+if I was you."
+
+"But I will.  I'll not have him think I'm ashamed of what I've done.  I'm
+proud of it, Mr. Bass."
+
+In the eyes of Coniston, which had been waiting for his reappearance, Bob
+Worthington jumped into the sleigh and drove off.  He left behind him
+Jethro Bass, who sat in his chair the rest of the morning with his head
+bent in revery so deep that Millicent had to call him twice to his simple
+dinner.  Bob left behind him, too, a score of rumors, sprung full grown
+into life with his visit.  Men and women an incredible distance away
+heard them in an incredible time: those in the village found an immediate
+pretext for leaving their legitimate occupation and going to the store,
+and a gathering was in session there when young Mr. Worthington drove
+past it on his way back.  Bob thought little about the rumors, and not
+thinking of them it did not occur to him that they might affect Cynthia.
+The only person then in Coniston whom he thought about was Jethro Bass.
+Bob decided that his liking for Jethro had not diminished, but rather
+increased; he admired Jethro for the advice he had given, although he did
+not mean to take it.  And for the first time he pitied him.
+
+Bob did not know that rumor, too, was spreading in Brampton.  He had his
+dinner in the big walnut dining room all alone, and after it he smoked
+his father's cigars and paced up and down the big hall, watching the
+clock.  For he could not go to her in the school hours.  At length he put
+on his hat and hurried out, crossing the park-like enclosure in the
+middle of the street; bowed at by Mr. Dodd, who always seemed to be on
+hand, and others, and nodding absently in return.  Concealment was not in
+Bob Worthington's nature.  He reached the post-office, where the
+partition door was open, and he walked right into a comparatively full
+meeting of the Brampton Club.  Ephraim sat in their midst, and for once
+he was not telling war stories.  He was silent.  And the others fell
+suddenly silent, too, at Bob's entrance.
+
+"How do you do, Mr. Prescott?" he said, as Ephraim struggled to his feet.
+"How is the rheumatism?"
+
+"How be you, Mr. Worthington?" said Ephraim; "this is a kind of a
+surprise, hain't it?"  Ephraim was getting used to surprises.  "Well, it
+is good-natured of you to come in and shake hands with an old soldier."
+
+"Don't mention it, Mr. Prescott," answered honest Bob, a little abashed,
+"I should have done so anyway, but the fact is, I wanted to speak to you
+a moment in private."
+
+"Certain," said Ephraim, glancing helplessly around him, "jest come out
+front."  That space, where the public were supposed to be, was the only
+private place in the Brampton post-office.  But the members of the
+Brampton Club could take a hint, and with one consent began to make
+excuses.  Bob knew them all from boyhood and spoke to them all.  Some of
+them ventured to ask him if Harvard had bust up.
+
+"Where does Cynthia-live?" he demanded, coming straight to the point.
+
+Ephraim stared at him for a moment in a bewildered fashion, and then a
+light began to dawn on him.
+
+"Lives with me," he answered.  He was quite as ashamed, for Bob's sake,
+as if he himself had asked the question, and he went on talking to cover
+that embarrassment.  "It's made some difference, too, sence she come.
+House looks like a different place.  Afore she, come I cooked with a kit,
+same as I used to in the harness shop.  I l'arned it in the army.
+Cynthy's got a stove."
+
+It was not the way Ephraim would have gone about a love affair, had he
+had one.  Sam Price's were the approved methods in that section of the
+country, though Sam had overdone them somewhat.  It was an unheard-of
+thing to ask a man right out like that where a girl lived.
+
+"Much obliged," said Bob, and was gone.  Ephraim raised his hands in
+despair, and hobbled to the little window to get a last look at him.
+Where were the proprieties in these days?  The other aspect of the
+affair, what Mr. Worthington would think of it when he returned, did not
+occur to the innocent mind of the old soldier until people began to talk
+about it that afternoon.  Then it worried him into another attack of
+rheumatism.
+
+Half of Brampton must have seen Bob Worthington march up to the little
+yellow house which Ephraim had rented from John Billings.  It had four
+rooms around the big chimney in the middle, and that was all.  Simple as
+it was, an architect would have said that its proportions were nearly
+perfect.  John Billings had it from his Grandfather Post, who built it,
+and though Brampton would have laughed at the statement, Isaac D.
+Worthington's mansion was not to be compared with it for beauty.  The old
+cherry furniture was still in it, and the old wall papers and the
+panelling in the little room to the right which Cynthia had made into a
+sitting room.
+
+Half of Brampton, too, must have seen Cynthia open the door and Bob walk
+into the entry.  Then the door was shut.  But it had been held open for
+an appreciable time, however,--while you could count twenty,--because
+Cynthia had not the power to close it.  For a while she could only look
+into his eyes, and he into hers.  She had not seen him coming, she had
+but answered the knock.  Then, slowly, the color came into her cheeks,
+and she knew that she was trembling from head to foot.
+
+"Cynthia," he said, "mayn't I come in?"
+
+She did not answer, for fear her voice would tremble, too.  And she could
+not send him away in the face of all Brampton.  She opened the door a
+little wider, a very little, and he went in.  Then she closed it, and for
+a moment they stood facing each other in the entry, which was lighted
+only by the fan-light over the door, Cynthia with her back against the
+wall.  He spoke her name again, his voice thick with the passion which
+had overtaken him like a flood at the sight of her--a passion to seize
+her in his arms, and cherish and comfort and protect her forever and
+ever.  All this he felt and more as he looked into her face and saw the
+traces of her great sorrow there.  He had not thought that that face
+could be more beautiful in its strength and purity, but it was even so.
+
+"Cynthia-my love!" he cried, and raised his arms.  But a look as of a
+great fear came into her eyes, which for one exquisite moment had yielded
+to his own; and her breath came quickly, as though she were spent--as
+indeed she was.  So far spent that the wall at her back was grateful.
+
+"No!" she said; "no--you must not--you must not--you must not!" Again and
+again she repeated the words, for she could summon no others.  They were
+a mandate--had he guessed it--to herself as to him.  For the time her
+brain refused its functions, and she could think of nothing but the fact
+that he was there, beside her, ready to take her in his arms.  How she
+longed to fly into them, none but herself knew--to fly into them as into
+a refuge secure against the evil powers of the world.  It was not reason
+that restrained her then, but something higher in her, that restrained
+him likewise.  Without moving from the wall she pushed open the door of
+the sitting room.
+
+"Go in there," she said.
+
+He went in as she bade him and stood before the flickering logs in the
+wide and shallow chimney-place--logs that seemed to burn on the very
+hearth itself, and yet the smoke rose unerring into the flue.  No stove
+had ever desecrated that room.  Bob looked into the flames and waited,
+and Cynthia stood in the entry fighting this second great battle which
+had come upon her while her forces were still spent with that other one.
+Woman in her very nature is created to be sheltered and protected; and
+the yearning in her, when her love is given, is intense as nature itself
+to seek sanctuary in that love.  So it was with Cynthia leaning against
+the entry wall, her arms full length in front of her, and her hands
+clasped as she prayed for strength to withstand the temptation.  At last
+she grew calmer, though her breath still came deeply, and she went into
+the sitting room.
+
+Perhaps he knew, vaguely, why she had not followed him at once.  He had
+grown calmer himself, calmer with that desperation which comes to a man
+of his type when his soul and body are burning with desire for a woman.
+He knew that he would have to fight for her with herself.  He knew now
+that she was too strong in her position to be carried by storm, and the
+interval had given him time to collect himself.  He did not dare at first
+to look up from the logs, for fear he should forget himself and be
+defeated instantly.
+
+"I have been to Coniston, Cynthia," he said.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I have been to Coniston this morning, and I have seen Mr. Bass, and I
+have told him that I love you, and that I will never give you up.  I told
+you so in Boston, Cynthia," he said; "I knew that this this trouble would
+come to you.  I would have given my life to have saved you from it--from
+the least part of it.  I would have given my life to have been able to
+say 'it shall not touch you.'  I saw it flowing in like a great sea
+between you and me, and yet I could not tell you of it.  I could not
+prepare you for it.  I could only tell you that I would never give you
+up, and I can only repeat that now."
+
+"You must, Bob," she answered, in a voice so low that it was almost a
+whisper; "you must give me up."
+
+"I would not," he said, "I would not if the words were written on all the
+rocks of Coniston Mountain.  I love you."
+
+"Hush," she said gently.  "I have to say some things to you.  They will
+be very hard to say, but you must listen to them."
+
+"I will listen," he said doggedly; "but they will not affect my
+determination."
+
+"I am sure you do not wish to drive me away from Brampton," she
+continued, in the same low voice, "when I have found a place to earn my
+living near-near Uncle Jethro."
+
+These words told him all he had suspected--almost as much as though he
+had been present at the scene in the tannery shed in Coniston.  She knew
+now the life of Jethro Bass, but he was still "Uncle Jethro" to her.  It
+was even as Bob had supposed,--that her affection once given could not be
+taken away.
+
+"Cynthia," he said, "I would not by an act or a word annoy or trouble
+you.  If you bade me, I would go to the other side of the world to-
+morrow.  You must know that.  But I should come back again.  You must
+know, that, too.  I should come back again for you."
+
+"Bob," she said again, and her voice faltered a very little now, "you
+must know that I can never be your wife."
+
+"I do not know it," he exclaimed, interrupting her vehemently, "I will
+not know it."
+
+"Think," she said, "think!  I must say what I, have to say, however it
+hurts me.  If it had not been for--for your father, those things never
+would have been written.  They were in his newspaper, and they express
+his feelings toward--toward Uncle Jethro."
+
+Once the words were out, she marvelled that she had found the courage to
+pronounce them.
+
+"Yes," he said, "yes, I know that, but listen--"
+
+"Wait," she went on, "wait until I have finished.  I am not speaking of
+the pain I had when I read these things, I--I am not speaking of the
+truth that may be in them--I have learned from them what I should have
+known before, and felt, indeed, that your father will never consent to--
+to a marriage between us."
+
+"And if he does not," cried Bob, "if he does not, do you think that I
+will abide by what he says, when my life's happiness depends upon you,
+and my life's welfare?  I know that you are a good woman, and a true
+woman, that you will be the best wife any man could have.  Though he is
+my father, he shall not deprive me of my soul, and he shall not take my
+life away from me."
+
+As Cynthia listened she thought that never had words sounded sweeter than
+these--no, and never would again.  So she told herself as she let them
+run into her heart to be stored among the treasures there.  She believed
+in his love--believed in it now with all her might.  (Who, indeed, would
+not?) She could not demean herself now by striving to belittle it or
+doubt its continuance, as she had in Boston.  He was young, yes; but he
+would never be any older than this, could never love again like this.  So
+much was given her, ought she not to be content?  Could she expect more?
+
+She understood Isaac Worthington, now, as well as his son understood him.
+She knew that, if she were to yield to Bob Worthington, his father would
+disown and disinherit him.  She looked ahead into the years as a woman
+will, and allowed herself for the briefest of moments to wonder whether
+any happiness could thrive in spite of the violence of that schism--any
+happiness for him.  She would be depriving him of his birthright, and it
+may be that those who are born without birthrights often value them the
+most.  Cynthia saw these things, and more, for those who sit at the feet
+of sorrow soon learn the world's ways.  She saw herself pointed out as
+the woman whose designs had beggared and ruined him in his youth, and
+(agonizing and revolting thought!) the name of one would be spoken from
+whom she had learned such craft.  Lest he see the scalding tears in her
+eyes, she turned away and conquered them.  What could she do?  Where
+should she hide her love that it might not be seen of men?  And how, in
+truth, could she tell him these things?
+
+"Cynthia," he went on, seeing that she did not answer, and taking heart,
+"I will not say a word against my father.  I know you would not respect
+me if I did.  We are different, he and I, and find happiness in different
+ways."  Bob wondered if his father had ever found it.  "If I had never
+met you and loved you, I should have refused to lead the life my father
+wishes me to lead.  It is not in me to do the things he will ask.  I
+shall have to carve out my own life, and I feel that I am as well able to
+do it as he was.  Percy Broke, a classmate of mine and my best friend,
+has a position for me in a locomotive works in which his father is
+largely interested.   We are going in together, the day after we
+graduate; it is all arranged, and his father has agreed.  I shall work
+very hard, and in a few years, Cynthia, we shall be together, never to
+part again.  Oh, Cynthia," he cried, carried away by the ecstasy of this
+dream which he had, summoned up, "why do you resist me?  I love you as no
+man has ever loved," he exclaimed, with scornful egotism and contempt of
+those who had made the world echo with that cry through the centuries,
+"and you love me!  Ah, do you think I do not see it--cannot feel it?  You
+love me--tell me so."
+
+He was coming toward her, and how was she to prevent his taking her by
+storm?  That was his way, and well she knew it.  In her dreams she had
+felt herself lifted and borne off, breathless in his arms, to Elysium.
+Her breath was going now, her strength was going, and yet she made him
+pause by the magic of a word.  A concession was in that word, but one
+could not struggle so piteously and concede nothing.
+
+"Bob," she said, "do you love me?"
+
+Love her!  If there was a love that acknowledged no bounds, that was
+confined by no superlatives, it was his.  He began to speak, but she
+interrupted him with a wild passion that was new to her.  As he sat in
+the train on his way back to Cambridge through the darkening afternoon,
+the note of it rang in his ears and gave him hope--yes, and through many
+months afterward.
+
+"If you love me I beg, I implore, I beseech you in the name of that love
+--for your, sake and my sake, to leave me.  Oh, can you not see why you
+must go?"
+
+He stopped, even as he had before in the parlor in Mount Vernon Street.
+He could but stop in the face of such an appeal--and yet the blood beat
+in his head with a mad joy.
+
+"Tell me that you love me,--once," he cried,--"once, Cynthia."
+
+"Do-do not ask me," she faltered.  "Go."
+
+Her words were a supplication, not a command.  And in that they were a
+supplication he had gained a victory.  Yes, though she had striven with
+all her might to deny, she had bade him hope.  He left her without so
+much as a touch of the hand, because she had wished it.  And yet she
+loved him!  Incredible fact!  Incredible conjury which made him doubt
+that his feet touched the snow of Brampton Street, which blotted, as with
+a golden glow, the faces and the houses of Brampton from his sight.  He
+saw no one, though many might have accosted him.  That part of him which
+was clay, which performed the menial tasks of his being, had kindly taken
+upon itself to fetch his bag from the house to the station, and to board
+the train.
+
+Ah, but Brampton had seen him!
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+Great events, like young Mr. Worthington's visit to Brampton, are all
+very well for a while, but they do not always develop with sufficient
+rapidity to satisfy the audiences of the drama.  Seven days were an
+interlude quite long enough in which to discuss every phase and bearing
+of this opening scene, and after that the play in all justice ought to
+move on.  But there it halted--for a while--and the curtain obstinately
+refused to come up.  If the inhabitants of Brampton had only known that
+the drama, when it came, would be well worth waiting for, they might have
+been less restless.
+
+It is unnecessary to enrich the pages of this folio with all the
+footnotes and remarks of, the sages of Brampton.  These can be condensed
+into a paragraph of two--and we can ring up the curtain when we like on
+the next scene, for which Brampton had to wait considerably over a month.
+There is to be no villain in this drama with the face of an Abbe Maury
+like the seven cardinal sins.  Comfortable looking Mr. Dodd of the
+prudential committee, with his chin-tuft of yellow beard, is cast for the
+part of the villain, but will play it badly; he would have been better
+suited to a comedy part.
+
+Young Mr. Worthington left Brampton on the five o'clock train, and at six
+Mr. Dodd met his fellow-member of the committee, Judge Graves.
+
+"Called a meetin'?" asked Mr. Dodd, pulling the yellow tuft.
+
+"What for?" said the judge, sharply.
+
+"What be you a-goin' to do about it?" said Mr. Dodd.
+
+"Do about what?" demanded the judge, looking at the hardware dealer from
+under his eyebrows.
+
+Mr. Dodd knew well enough that this was not ignorance on the part of Mr.
+Graves, whose position in the matter dad been very well defined in the
+two sentences he had spoken.  Mr. Dodd perceived that the judge was
+trying to get him to commit himself, and would then proceed to annihilate
+him.  He, Levi Dodd, had no intention of walking into such a trap.
+
+"Well," said he, with a final tug at the tuft, "if that's the way you
+feel about it."
+
+"Feel about what?" said the judge, fiercely.
+
+"Callate you know best," said Mr. Dodd, and passed on up the street.  But
+he felt the judge's gimlet eyes boring holes in his back.  The judge's
+position was very fine, no doubt for the judge.  All of which tends to
+show that Levi Dodd had swept his mind, and that it was ready now for the
+reception of an opinion.
+
+Six weeks or more, as has been said, passed before the curtain rose
+again, but the snarling trumpets of the orchestra played a fitting
+prelude.  Cynthia's feelings and Cynthia's life need not be gone into
+during this interval knowing her character, they may well be imagined.
+They were trying enough, but Brampton had no means of guessing them.
+During the weeks she came and went between the little house and the
+little school, putting all the strength that was in her into her duties.
+The Prudential Committee, which sometimes sat on the platform, could find
+no fault with the performance of these duties, or with the capability of
+the teacher, and it is not going too far to state that the children grew
+to love her better than Miss Goddard had been loved.  It may be declared
+that children are the fittest citizens of a republic, because they are
+apt to make up their own minds on any subject without regard to public
+opinion.  It was so with the scholars of Brampton village lower school:
+they grew to love the new teacher, careless of what the attitude of their
+elders might be, and some of them could have been seen almost any day
+walking home with her down the street.
+
+As for the attitude of the elders--there was none.  Before assuming one
+they had thought it best, with characteristic caution, to await the next
+act in the drama.  There were ladies in Brampton whose hearts prompted
+them, when they called on the new teacher, to speak a kindly word of
+warning and advice; but somehow, when they were seated before her in the
+little sitting room of the John Billings house, their courage failed
+them.  There was something about this daughter of the Coniston
+storekeeper and ward of Jethro Bass that made them pause.  So much for
+the ladies of Brampton.  What they said among themselves would fill a
+chapter, and more.
+
+There was, at this time, a singular falling-off in the attendance of the
+Brampton Club.  Ephraim sat alone most of the day in his Windsor chair by
+the stove, pretending to read newspapers.  But he did not mention this
+fact to Cynthia.  He was more lonesome than ever on the Saturdays and
+Sundays which she spent with Jethro Bass.
+
+Jethro Bass!  It is he who might be made the theme of the music of the
+snarling trumpets.  What was he about during those six weeks?  That is
+what the state at large was beginning to wonder, and the state at large
+was looking on at a drama, too.  A rumor reached the capital and radiated
+thence to every city and town and hamlet, and was followed by other
+rumors like confirmations.  Jethro Bass, for the first time in a long
+life of activity, was inactive: inactive, too, at this most critical
+period of his career, the climax of it, with a war to be waged which for
+bitterness and ferocity would have no precedent; with the town meetings
+at hand, where the frontier fighting was to be done, and no quarter
+given.  Lieutenants had gone to Coniston for further orders and
+instructions, and had come back without either.  Achilles was sulking in
+the tannery house--some said a broken Achilles.  Not a word could be got
+out of him, or the sign of an intention.  Jake Wheeler moped through the
+days in Rias Richardson's store, too sore at heart to speak to any man,
+and could have wept if tears had been a relief to him.  No more blithe
+errands over the mountain to Clovelly and elsewhere, though Jake knew the
+issue now and itched for the battle, and the vassals of the hill-Rajah
+under a jubilant Bijah Bixby were arming cap-a-pie.  Lieutenant-General-
+and-Senator Peleg Hartington of Brampton, in his office over the livery
+stable, shook his head like a mournful stork when questioned by brother
+officers from afar.  Operations were at a standstill, and the sinews of
+war relaxed.  Rural givers of mortgages, who had not had the opportunity
+of selling them or had feared to do so, began (mirabile dictu) to express
+opinions.  Most ominous sign of all--the proprietor of the Pelican Hotel
+had confessed that the Throne Room had not been engaged for the coming
+session.
+
+Was it possible that Jethro Bass lay crushed under the weight of the
+accusations which had been printed, and were still being printed, in the
+Newcastle Guardian?  He did not answer them, or retaliate in other
+newspapers, but Jethro Bass had never made use of newspapers in this way.
+Still, nothing ever printed about him could be compared with those
+articles.  Had remorse suddenly overtaken him in his old age?  Such were
+the questions people we're asking all over the state--people, at least,
+who were interested in politics, or in those operations which went by the
+name of politics: yes, and many private citizens--who had participated in
+politics only to the extent of voting for such candidates as Jethro in
+his wisdom had seen fit to give them, read the articles and began to say
+that boss domination was at an end.  A new era was at hand, which they
+fondly (and very properly) believed was to be a golden era.  It was,
+indeed, to be a golden era--until things got working; and then the gold
+would cease.  The Newcastle Guardian, with unconscious irony, proclaimed
+the golden era; and declared that its columns, even in other days and
+under other ownership, had upheld the wisdom of  Jethro Bass.  And he was
+still a wise man, said the Guardian, for he had had sense enough to give
+up the fight.
+
+Had he given up the fight?  Cynthia fervently hoped and prayed that he
+had, but she hoped and prayed in silence.  Well she knew, if the event in
+the tannery shed had not made him abandon his affairs, no appeal could do
+so.  Her happiest days in this period were the Saturdays and Sundays
+spent with him in Coniston, and as the weeks went by she began to believe
+that the change, miraculous as it seemed, had indeed taken place.  He had
+given up his power.  It was a pleasure that made the weeks bearable for
+her.  What did it matter--whether he had made the sacrifice for the sake
+of his love for her?  He had made it.
+
+On these Saturdays and Sundays they went on long drives together over the
+hills, while she talked to him of her life in Brampton or the books she
+was reading, and of those she had chosen for him to read.  Sometimes they
+did not turn homeward until the delicate tracery of the branches on the
+snow warned them of the rising moon.  Jethro was often silent for hours
+at a time, but it seemed to Cynthia that it was the silence of peace--of
+a peace he had never known before.  There came no newspapers to the
+tannery house now: during the mid-week he read the books of which she had
+spoken William Wetherell's books; or sat in thought, counting, perhaps;
+the days until she should come again.  And the boy of those days for him
+was more pathetic than much that is known to the world as sorrow.
+
+And what did Coniston think?  Coniston, indeed, knew not what to think,
+when, little by little, the great men ceased to drive up to the door of
+the tannery house, and presently came no more.  Coniston sank then from
+its proud position as the real capital of the state to a lonely hamlet
+among the hills.  Coniston, too, was watching the drama, and had had a
+better view of the stage than Brampton, and saw some reason presently for
+the change in Jethro Bass.  Not that Mr. Satterlee told, but such
+evidence was bound, in the end, to speak for itself.  The Newcastle
+Guardian had been read and debated at the store--debated with some heat
+by Chester Perkins and other mortgagors; discussed, nevertheless, in a
+political rather than a moral light.  Then Cynthia had returned home; her
+face had awed them by its sorrow, and she had begun to earn her own
+living.  Then the politicians had ceased to come.  The credit belongs to
+Rias Richardson for hawing been the first to piece these three facts
+together, causing him to burn his hand so severely on the stove that he
+had to carry it bandaged in soda for a week.  Cynthia Wetherell had
+reformed Jethro.
+
+Though the village loved and revered Cynthia, Coniston as a whole did not
+rejoice in that reform.  The town had fallen from its mighty estate, and
+there were certain envious ones who whispered that it had remained for a
+young girl who had learned city ways to twist Jethro around her finger;
+that she had made him abandon his fight with Isaac D. Worthington because
+Mr. Worthington had a son--but there is no use writing such scandal.
+Stripped of his power--even though he stripped himself--Jethro began to
+lose their respect, a trait tending to prove that the human race may have
+had wolves for ancestors as well as apes.  People had small opportunity,
+however, of showing a lack of respect to his person, for in these days he
+noticed no one and spoke to none.
+
+When the lion is crippled, the jackals begin to range.  A jackal
+reconnoitered the lair to see how badly the lion was crippled, and
+conceived with astounding insolence the plan of capturing the lion's
+quarry.  This jackal, who was an old one, well knew how to round up a
+quarry, and fled back over the hills to consult with a bigger jackal, his
+master.  As a result, two days before March town-meeting day, Mr. Bijah
+Bixby paid a visit to the Harwich bank and went among certain Coniston
+farmers looking over the sheep, his clothes bulging out in places when he
+began, and seemingly normal enough when he had finished.  History repeats
+itself, even among lions and jackals.  Thirty-six years before there had
+been a town-meeting in Coniston and a surprise.  Established Church,
+decent and orderly selectmen and proceedings had been toppled over that
+day, every outlying farm sending its representative through the sleet to
+do it.  And now retribution was at hand.  This March-meeting day was
+mild, the grass showing a green color on the south slopes where the snow
+had melted, and the outlying farmers drove through mud-holes up to the
+axles.  Drove, albeit, in procession along the roads, grimly enough, and
+the sheds Jock Hallowell had built around the meeting-house could not
+hold the horses; they lined the fences and usurped the hitching posts of
+the village street, and still they came.  Their owners trooped with muddy
+boots into the meeting-house, and when the moderator rapped for order the
+Chairman of the Board of Selectmen, Jethro Bass, was not in his place;
+never, indeed, would be there again.  Six and thirty years he had been
+supreme in that town--long enough for any man.  The beams and king posts
+would know him no more.  Mr. Amos Cuthbert was elected Chairman, not
+without a gallant and desperate but unsupported fight of a minority led
+by Mr. Jake Wheeler, whose loyalty must be taken as a tribute to his
+species.  Farmer Cuthbert was elected, and his mortgage was not
+foreclosed!  Had it been, there was more money in the Harwich bank.
+
+There was no telegraph to Coniston in these days, and so Mr. Sam Price,
+with his horse in a lather, might have been seen driving with unseemly
+haste toward Brampton, where in due time he arrived.  Half an hour later
+there was excitement at Newcastle, sixty-five miles away, in the office
+of the Guardian, and the next morning the excitement had spread over the
+whole state.
+
+Jethro Bass was dethroned in Coniston--discredited in his own town!
+
+And where was Jethro?  Did his heart ache, did he bow his head as he
+thought of that supremacy, so hardly won, so superbly held, gone forever?
+Many were the curious eyes on the tannery house that day, and for days
+after, but its owner gave no signs of concern.  He read and thought and
+chopped wood in the tannery shed as usual.  Never, I believe, did man,
+shorn of power, accept his lot more quietly.  His struggle was over, his
+battle was fought, a greater peace than he had ever thought to hope for
+was won.  For the opinion and regard of the world he had never cared.  A
+greater reward awaited him, greater than any knew--the opinion and regard
+and the praise of one whom he loved beyond all the world.  On Friday she
+came to him, on Friday at sunset, for the days were growing longer, and
+that was the happiest sunset of his life.  She said nothing as she raised
+her face to his and kissed him and clung to him in the little parlor, but
+he knew, and he had his reward.  So much for earthly power Cynthia
+brought the little rawhide trunk this time, and came to Coniston for the
+March vacation--a happy two weeks that was soon gone.  Happy by
+comparison, that is, with what they both had suffered, and a haven of
+rest after the struggle and despair of the wilderness.  The bond between
+them had, in truth, never been stronger, for both the young girl and the
+old man had denied themselves the thing they held most dear.  Jethro had
+taken refuge and found comfort in his love.  But Cynthia!  Her greatest
+love had now been bestowed elsewhere.
+
+If there were letters for the tannery house, Milly Skinner, who made it a
+point to meet the stage, brought them.  And there were letters during
+Cynthia's sojourn,--many of them, bearing the Cambridge postmark.  One
+evening it was Jethro who laid the letter on the table beside her as she
+sat under the lamp.  He did not look at her or speak, but she felt that
+he knew her secret--felt that he deserved to have from her own lips what
+he had been too proud--yes--and too humble to ask.  Whose sympathy could
+she be sure of, if not of his?  Still she had longed to keep this
+treasure to herself.  She took the letter in her hand.
+
+"I do not answer them, Uncle Jethro, but--I cannot prevent his writing
+them," she faltered.  She did not confess that she kept them, every one,
+and read them over and over again; that she had grown, indeed, to look
+forward to them as to a sustenance.  "I--I do love him, but I will not
+marry him."
+
+Yes, she could be sure of Jethro's sympathy, though he could not express
+it in words.  Yet she had not told him for this.  She had told him, much
+as the telling had hurt her, because she feared to cut him more deeply by
+her silence.
+
+It was a terrible moment for Jethro, and never had he desired the gift of
+speech as now.  Had it not been for him; Cynthia might have been Robert
+Worthington's wife.  He sat down beside her and put his hand over hers
+that lay on the letter in her lap.  It was the only answer he could make,
+but perhaps it was the best, after all.  Of what use were words at such a
+time!
+
+Four days afterward, on a Monday morning, she went back to Brampton to
+begin the new term.
+
+That same Monday a circumstance of no small importance took place in
+Brampton--nothing less than the return, after a prolonged absence in the
+West and elsewhere, of its first citizen.  Isaac D. Worthington was again
+in residence.  No bells were rung, indeed, and no delegation of citizens
+as such, headed by the selectmen, met him at the station; and other
+feudal expressions of fealty were lacking.  No staff flew Mr.
+Worthington's arms; nevertheless the lord of Brampton was in his castle
+again, and Brampton felt that he was there.  He arrived alone, wearing
+the silk hat which had become habitual with him now, and stepping into
+his barouche at the station had been driven up Brampton Street behind his
+grays, looking neither to the right nor left.  His reddish chop whiskers
+seemed to cling a little more closely to his face than formerly, and long
+years of compression made his mouth look sterner than ever.  A hawk-like
+man, Isaac Worthington, to be reckoned with and feared, whether in a
+frock coat or in breastplate and mail.
+
+His seneschal, Mr. Flint, was awaiting him in the library.  Mr. Flint was
+large and very ugly, big-boned, smooth-shaven, with coarse features all
+askew, and a large nose with many excrescences, and thick lips.  He was
+forty-two.  From a foreman of the mills he had risen, step by step, to
+his present position, which no one seemed able to define.  He was,
+indeed, a seneschal.  He managed the mills in his lord's absence, and--if
+the truth be told--in his presence; knotty questions of the Truro
+Railroad were brought to Mr. Flint and submitted to Mr. Worthington, who
+decided them, with Mr. Flint's advice; and, within the last three months,
+Mr. Flint had invaded the realm of politics, quietly, as such a man
+would, under the cover of his patron's name and glory.  Mr. Flint it was
+who had bought the Newcastle Guardian, who went occasionally to Newcastle
+and spoke a few effective words now and then to the editor; and, if the
+truth will out, Mr. Flint had largely conceived that scheme about the
+railroads which was to set Mr. Worthington on the throne of the state,
+although the scheme was not now being carried out according to Mr.
+Flint's wishes.  Mr. Flint was, in a sense, a Bismarck, but he was not as
+yet all powerful.  Sometimes his august master or one of his fellow petty
+sovereigns would sweep Mr. Flint's plans into the waste basket, and then
+Mr. Flint would be content to wait.  To complete the character sketch,
+Mr. Flint was not above hanging up his master's hat and coat, Which he
+did upon the present occasion, and went up to Mr. Worthington's bedroom
+to fetch a pocket handkerchief out of the second drawer.  He even knew
+where the handkerchiefs were kept.  Lucky petty sovereigns sometimes
+possess Mr. Flints to make them emperors.
+
+The august personage seated himself briskly at his desk.
+
+"So that scoundrel Bass is actually discredited at last," he said,
+blowing his nose in the pocket handkerchief Mr. Flint had brought him.
+"I lose patience when I think how long we've stood the rascal in this
+state.  I knew the people would rise in their indignation when they
+learned the truth about him."
+
+Mr. Flint did not answer this.  He might have had other views.
+
+"I wonder we did not think of it before," Mr. Worthington continued.  "A
+very simple remedy, and only requiring a little courage and--and--" (Mr.
+Worthington was going to say money, but thought better of it) "and the
+chimera disappears.  I congratulate you, Flint."
+
+"Congratulate yourself," said Mr. Flint; "that would not have been my
+way."
+
+"Very well, I congratulate myself," said the august personage, who was in
+too good a humor to be put out by the rejection of a compliment.  "You
+remember what I said: the time was ripe, just publish a few biographical
+articles telling people what he was, and Jethro Bass would snuff out like
+a candle.  Mr. Duncan tells me the town-meeting results are very good all
+over the state.  Even if we hadn't knocked out Jethro Bass, we'd have a
+fair majority for our bill in the next legislature."
+
+"You know Bass's saying," answered Mr. Flint, "You can hitch that kind of
+a hoss, but they won't always stay hitched."
+
+"I know, I know," said Mr. Worthington; "don't croak, Flint.  We can buy
+more hitch ropes, if necessary.  Well, what's the outlay up to the
+present?  Large, I suppose.  Well, whatever it is, it's small compared to
+what we'll get for it."  He laughed a little and rubbed his hands, and
+then he remembered that capacity in which he stood before the world.
+Yes, and he stood before himself in the same capacity.  Isaac Worthington
+may have deceived himself, but he may or may not have been a hero to his
+seneschal.  "We have to fight fire with fire," he added, in a pained
+voice.  "Let me see the account."
+
+"I have tabulated the expense in the different cities and towns,"
+answered Mr. Flint; "I will show you the account in a little while.  The
+expenses in Coniston were somewhat greater than the size of the town
+justified, perhaps.  But Sutton thought--"
+
+"Yes, yes," interrupted Mr. Worthington, "if it had cost as much to carry
+Coniston as Newcastle, it would have been worth it--for the moral effect
+alone."
+
+Moral effect!  Mr. Flint thought of Mr. Bixby with his bulging pockets
+going about the hills, and smiled at the manner in which moral effects
+are sometimes obtained.
+
+"Any news, Flint?"
+
+No news yet, Mr. Flint might have answered.  In a few minutes there might
+be news, and plenty of it, for it lay ready to be hatched under Mr.
+Worthington's eye.  A letter in the bold and upright hand of his son was
+on the top of the pile, placed there by Mr. Flint himself, who had
+examined Mr. Worthington's face closely when he came in to see how much
+he might know of its contents.  He had decided that Mr. Worthington was
+in too good a humor to know anything of them.  Mr. Flint had not steamed
+the letter open, and read the news; but he could guess at them pretty
+shrewdly, and so could have the biggest fool in Brampton.  That letter
+contained the opening scene of the next act in the drama.
+
+Mr. Worthington cut the envelope and began to read, and while he did so
+Mr. Flint, who was not afraid of man or beast, looked at him.  It was a
+manly and straight forward letter, and Mr. Worthington, no matter what
+his opinions on the subject were, should have been proud of it.  Bob
+announced, first of all, that he was going to marry Cynthia Wetherell;
+then he proceeded with praiseworthy self-control (for a lover) to
+describe Cynthia's character and attainments: after which he stated that
+Cynthia had refused him--twice, because she believed that Mr. Worthington
+would oppose the marriage, and had declared that she would never be the
+cause of a breach between father and son.  Bob asked for his father's
+consent, and hoped to have it, but he thought it only right to add that
+he had given his word and his love, and did not mean to retract either.
+He spoke of his visit to Brampton, and explained that Cynthia was
+teaching school there, and urged his father to see her before he made a
+decision.  Mr. Worthington read it through to the end, his lips closing
+tighter and tighter until his mouth was but a line across his face.
+There was pain in the face, too, the kind of pain which anger sends, and
+which comes with the tottering of a pride that is false.  Of what
+gratification now was the overthrow of Jethro Bass?
+
+He stared at the letter for a moment after he had finished it, and his
+face grew a dark red.  Then he seized the paper and tore it slowly,
+deliberately, into bits.
+
+Dudley Worthington was not thinking then--not he!--of the young man in
+the white beaver who had called at the Social Library many years before
+to see a young woman whose name, too, had been Cynthia.--He was thinking,
+in fact, for he was a man to think in anger, whether it were not possible
+to remove this Cynthia from the face of the earth--at least to a place
+beyond his horizon and that of his son.  Had he worn the chain mail
+instead of the frock coat he would have had her hung outside the town
+walls.
+
+"Good God!" he exclaimed.  And the words sounded profane indeed as he
+fixed his eyes upon Mr. Flint.  "You knew that Robert had been to
+Brampton."
+
+"Yes," said Flint, "the whole village knew it."
+
+"Good God!" cried Mr. Worthington again, "why was I not informed of this?
+Why was I not warned of this?  Have I no friends?  Do you pretend to look
+after my interests and not take the trouble to write me on such a
+subject."
+
+"Do you think I could have prevented it?" asked Mr. Flint, very calmly.
+
+"You allow this--this woman to come here to Brampton and teach school in
+a place where she can further her designs?  What were you about?"
+
+"When the prudential committee appointed her, nothing of this was known,
+Mr. Worthington."
+
+"Yes, but now--now!  What are you doing, what are they doing to allow her
+to remain?  Who are on that committee?"
+
+Mr. Flint named the men.  They had been reelected, as usual, at the
+recent town-meeting.  Mr. Errol, who had also been reelected, had
+returned but had not yet issued the certificate or conducted the
+examination.
+
+"Send for them, have them here at once," commanded Mr. Worthington,
+without listening to this.
+
+"If you take my advice, you will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Flint,
+who, as usual, had the whole situation at his fingers' ends.  He had
+taken the trouble to inform himself about the girl, and he had
+discovered, shrewdly enough, that she was the kind which might be led,
+but not driven.  If Mr. Flint's advice had been listened to, this story
+might have had quite a different ending.  But Mr. Flint had not reached
+the stage where his advice was always listened to, and he had a maddened
+man to deal with now.  At that moment, as if fate had determined to
+intervene, the housemaid came into the room.
+
+"Mr. Dodd to see you, sir," she said.
+
+"Show him in," shouted Mr. Worthington; "show him in!"
+
+Mr. Dodd was not a man who could wait for a summons which he had felt in
+his bones was coming.  He was ordinarily, as we have seen, officious.
+But now he was thoroughly frightened.  He had seen the great man in the
+barouche as he drove past the hardware store, and he had made up his mind
+to go up at once, and have it over with.  His opinions were formed now,
+He put a smile on his face when he was a foot outside of the library
+door.
+
+"This is a great pleasure, Mr. Worthington, a great pleasure, to see you
+back," he said, coming forward.  "I callated--"
+
+But the great man sat in his chair, and made no attempt to return the
+greeting.
+
+"Mr. Dodd, I thought you were my friend," he said.
+
+Mr. Dodd went all to pieces at this reception.
+
+"So I be, Mr. Worthington--so I be," he cried.  "That's why I'm here now.
+I've b'en a friend of yours ever since I can remember--never fluctuated.
+I'd rather have chopped my hand off than had this happen--so I would.  If
+I could have foreseen what she was, she'd never have had the place, as
+sure as my name's Levi Dodd."
+
+If Mr. Dodd had taken the trouble to look at the seneschal's face, he
+would have seen a well-defined sneer there.
+
+"And now that you know what she is," cried Mr. Worthington, rising and
+smiting the pile of letters on his desk, "why do you keep her there an
+instant?"
+
+Mr. Dodd stopped to pick up the letters, which had flown over the floor.
+But the great man was now in the full tide of his anger.
+
+"Never mind the letters," he shouted; "tell me why you keep her there."
+
+"We callated we'd wait and see what steps you'd like taken," said the
+trembling townsman.
+
+"Steps!  Steps!  Good God!  What kind of man are you to serve in such a
+place when you allow the professed ward of Jethro Bass--of Jethro Bass,
+the most notoriously depraved man in this state, to teach the children of
+this town.  Steps!  How soon can you call your committee together?"
+
+"Right away," answered Mr. Dodd, breathlessly.  He would have gone on to
+exculpate himself, but Mr. Worthington's inexorable finger was pointing
+at the door.
+
+"If you are a friend of mine," said that gentleman, "and if you have any
+regard for the fair name of this town, you will do so at once."
+
+Mr. Dodd departed precipitately, and Mr. Worthington began to pace the
+room, clasping his hands now in front of him, now behind him, in his
+agony: repeating now and again various appellations which need not be
+printed here, which he applied in turn to the prudential committee, to
+his son, and to Cynthia Wetherell.
+
+"I'll run her out of Brampton," he said at last.
+
+"If you do," said Mr. Flint, who had been watching him apparently
+unmoved, "you may have Jethro Bass on your back."
+
+"Jethro Bass?" shouted Mr. Worthington, with a laugh that was not
+pleasant to hear, "Jethro Bass is as dead as Julius Caesar."
+
+It was one thing for Mr. Dodd to promise so readily a meeting of the
+committee, and quite another to decide how he was going to get through
+the affair without any more burns and scratches than were absolutely
+necessary.  He had reversed the usual order, and had been in the fire--
+now he was going to the frying-pan.  He stood in the street for some
+time, pulling at his tuft, and then made his way to Mr. Jonathan Hill's
+feed store.  Mr. Hill was reading "Sartor Resartus" in his little office,
+the temperature of which must have been 95, and Mr. Dodd was perspiring
+when he got there.
+
+"It's come," said Mr. Dodd, sententiously.
+
+"What's come?" inquired Mr. Hill, mildly.
+
+"Isaac D.'s come, that's what," said Mr. Dodd.  "I hain't b'en sleepin'
+well of nights, lately.  I can't think what we was about, Jonathan,
+puttin' that girl in the school.  We'd ought to've knowed she wahn't
+fit."
+
+"What's the matter with her?" inquired Mr. Hill.
+
+"Matter with her!" exclaimed his fellow-committeeman, "she lives with
+Jethro Bass--she's his ward."
+
+"Well, what of it?" said Mr. Hill, who never bothered himself about
+gossip or newspapers, or indeed about anything not between the covers of
+a book, except when he couldn't help it.
+
+"Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Dodd, "he's the most notorious, depraved man in
+the state.  Hain't we got to look out for the fair name of Brampton?"
+
+Mr. Hill sighed and closed his book.
+
+"Well," he said; "I'd hoped we were through with that.  Let's go up and
+see what Judge Graves says about it."
+
+"Hold on," said Mr. Dodd, seizing the feed dealer by the coat, "we've got
+to get it fixed in our minds what we're goin' to do, first.  We can't
+allow no notorious people in our schools.  We've got to stand up to the
+jedge, and tell him so.  We app'inted her on his recommendation, you
+know."
+
+"I like the girl," replied Mr. Hill.  "I don't think we ever had a better
+teacher.  She's quiet, and nice appearin', and attends to her business."
+
+Mr. Dodd pulled his tuft, and cocked his head.
+
+"Mr. Worthington holds a note of yours, don't he, Jonathan?"
+
+Mr. Hill reflected.  He said he thought perhaps Mr. Worthington did.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Dodd, "I guess we might as well go along up to the jedge
+now as any time."
+
+But when they got there Mr. Dodd's knock was so timid that he had to
+repeat it before the judge came to the door and peered at them over his
+spectacles.
+
+"Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?" he asked, severely, though he
+knew well enough.  He had not been taken by surprise many times during
+the last forty years.  Mr. Dodd explained that they wished a little
+meeting of the committee.  The judge ushered them into his bedroom, the
+parlor being too good for such an occasion.
+
+"Now, gentlemen," said he, "let us get down to business.  Mr. Worthington
+arrived here to-day, he has seen Mr. Dodd, and Mr. Dodd has seen Mr.
+Hill.  Mr. Worthington is a political opponent of Jethro Bass, and wishes
+Miss Wetherell dismissed.  Mr. Dodd and Mr. Hill have agreed, for various
+reasons which I will spare you, that Miss Wetherell should be dismissed.
+Have I stated the case, gentlemen, or have I not?"
+
+Mr. Graves took off his spectacles and wiped them, looking from one to
+the other of his very uncomfortable fellow-members.  Mr. Hill did not
+attempt to speak; but Mr. Dodd, who was not sure now that this was not
+the fire and the other the frying-pan, pulled at his tuft until words
+came to him.
+
+"Jedge," he said finally, "I must say I'm a mite surprised.  I must say
+your language is unwarranted."
+
+"The truth is never unwarranted," said the judge.
+
+"For the sake of the fair name of Brampton," began Mr. Dodd, "we cannot
+allow--"
+
+"Mr. Dodd," interrupted the judge, "I would rather have Mr. Worthington's
+arguments from Mr. Worthington himself, if I wanted them at all.  There
+is no need of prolonging this meeting.  If I were to waste my breath
+until six o'clock, it would be no use.  I was about to say that your
+opinions were formed, but I will alter that, and say that your minds are
+fixed.  You are determined to dismiss Miss Wetherell.  Is it not so?"
+
+"I wish you'd hear me, Jedge," said Mr. Dodd, desperately.
+
+"Will you kindly answer me yes or no to that question," said the judge;
+"my time is valuable."
+
+"Well, if you put it that way, I guess we are agreed that she hadn't
+ought to stay.  Not that I've anything against her personally--"
+
+"All right," said the judge, with a calmness that made them tremble.
+They had never bearded him before. "All right, you are two to one and no
+certificate has been issued.  But I tell you this, gentlemen, that you
+will live to see the day when you will bitterly regret this injustice to
+an innocent and a noble woman, and Isaac D. Worthington will live to
+regret it.  You may tell him I said so.  Good day, gentlemen."
+
+They rose.
+
+"Jedge," began Mr. Dodd again, "I don't think you've been quite fair with
+us."
+
+"Fair!" repeated the judge, with unutterable scorn.  "Good day,
+gentlemen."  And he slammed the door behind them.
+
+They walked down the street some distance before either of them spoke.
+
+"Goliah," said Mr. Dodd, at last, "did you ever hear such talk?  He's got
+the drattedest temper of any man I ever knew, and he never callates to
+make a mistake.  It's a little mite hard to do your duty when a man talks
+that way."
+
+"I'm not sure we've done it," answered Mr. Hill.
+
+"Not sure!" ejaculated the hardware dealer, for he was now far enough
+away from the judge's house to speak in his normal tone, "and she
+connected with that depraved--"
+
+"Hold on," said Mr. Hill, with an astonishing amount of spirit for him,
+"I've heard that before."
+
+Mr. Dodd looked at him, swallowed the wrong way and began to choke.
+
+"You hain't wavered, Jonathan?" he said, when he got his breath.
+
+"No, I haven't," said Mr. Hill, sadly; "but I wish to hell I had."
+
+Mr. Dodd looked at him again, and began to choke again.  It was the first
+time he had known Jonathan Hill to swear.
+
+"You're a-goin' to stick by what you agreed--by your principles?"
+
+"I'm going to stick by my bread and butter," said Mr. Hill, "not by my
+principles.  I wish to hell I wasn't."
+
+And so saying that gentleman departed, cutting diagonally across the
+street through the snow, leaving Mr. Dodd still choking and pulling at
+his tuft.  This third and totally-unexpected shaking-up had caused him to
+feel somewhat deranged internally, though it had not altered the opinions
+now so firmly planted in his head.  After a few moments, however, he had
+collected himself sufficiently to move on once more, when he discovered
+that he was repeating to himself, quite unconsciously, Mr. Hill's
+profanity "I wish to hell I wasn't."  The iron mastiffs glaring at him
+angrily out of the snow banks reminded him that he was in front of Mr.
+Worthington's door, and he thought he might as well go in at once and
+receive the great man's gratitude.  He certainly deserved it.  But as he
+put his hand on the bell Mr. Worthington himself came out of the house,
+and would actually have gone by without noticing Mr. Dodd if he had not
+spoken.
+
+"I've got that little matter fixed, Mr. Worthington," he said, "called
+the committee, and we voted to discharge the--the young woman."  No, he
+did not deliver Judge Graves's message.
+
+"Very well, Mr. Dodd," answered the great man, passing on so that Mr.
+Dodd was obliged to follow him in order to hear, "I'm glad you've come to
+your senses at last.  Kindly step into the library and tell Miss Bruce
+from me that she may fill the place to-morrow."
+
+"Certain," said Mr. Dodd, with his hand to his chin.  He watched the
+great man turn in at his bank in the new block, and then he did as he was
+bid.
+
+By the time school was out that day the news had leaped across Brampton
+Street and spread up and down both sides of it that the new teacher had
+been dismissed.  The story ran fairly straight--there were enough clews,
+certainly.  The great man's return, the visit of Mr. Dodd, the call on
+Judge Graves, all had been marked.  The fiat of the first citizen had
+gone forth that the ward of Jethro Bass must be got rid of; the designing
+young woman who had sought to entrap his son must be punished for her
+amazing effrontery.
+
+Cynthia came out of school happily unaware that her name was on the lips
+of Brampton: unaware, too, that the lord of the place had come into
+residence that day.  She had looked forward to living in the same town
+with Bob's father as an evil which was necessary to be borne, as one of
+the things which are more or less inevitable in the lives of those who
+have to make their own ways in the world.  The children trooped around
+her, and the little girls held her hand, and she talked and laughed with
+them as she came up the street in the eyes of Brampton,--came up the
+street to the block of new buildings where the bank was.  Stepping out of
+the bank, with that businesslike alertness which characterized him, was
+the first citizen--none other.  He found himself entangled among the
+romping children and--horror of horrors he bumped into the schoolmistress
+herself!  Worse than this, he had taken off his hat and begged her pardon
+before he looked at her and realized the enormity of his mistake.  And
+the schoolmistress had actually paid no attention to him, but with merely
+heightened color had drawn the children out of his way and passed on
+without a word.  The first citizen, raging inwardly, but trying to appear
+unconcerned, walked rapidly back to his house.  On the street of his own
+town, before the eyes of men, he had been snubbed by a school-teacher.
+And such a schoolteacher!
+
+Mr. Worthington, as he paced his library burning with the shame of this
+occurrence, remembered that he had had to glance at her twice before it
+came over him who she was.  His first sensation had been astonishment.
+And now, in spite of his bitter anger, he had to acknowledge that the
+face had made an impression on him--a fact that only served to increase
+his rage.  A conviction grew upon him that it was a face which his son,
+or any other man, would not be likely to forget.  He himself could not
+forget it.
+
+In the meantime Cynthia had reached her home, her cheeks still smarting,
+conscious that people had stared at her.  This much, of course, she knew
+--that Brampton believed Bob Worthington to be in love with her: and the
+knowledge at such times made her so miserable that the thought of
+Jethro's isolation alone deterred her from asking Miss Lucretia Penniman
+for a position in Boston.  For she wrote to Miss Lucretia about her life
+and her reading, as that lady had made her promise to do.  She sat down
+now at the cherry chest of drawers that was also a desk, to write: not to
+pour out her troubles, for she never had done that,--but to calm her mind
+by drawing little character sketches of her pupils.  But she had only
+written the words, "My dear Miss Lucretia," when she looked out of the
+window and saw Judge Graves coming up the path, and ran to open the door
+for him.
+
+"How do you do, Judge?" she said, for she recognized Mr. Graves as one of
+her few friends in Brampton.  "I have sent to Boston for the new reader,
+but it has not come."
+
+The judge took her hand and pressed it and led her into the little
+sitting room.  His face was very stern, but his eyes, which had flung
+fire at Mr. Dodd, looked at her with a vast compassion.  Her heart
+misgave her.
+
+"My dear," he said,--it was long since the judge had called any woman "my
+dear,"--"I have bad news for you.  The committee have decided that you
+cannot teach any longer in the Brampton school."
+
+"Oh, Judge," she answered, trying to force back the tears which would
+come, "I have tried so hard.  I had begun to believe that I could fill
+the place."
+
+"Fill the place!" cried the judge, startling her with his sudden anger.
+"No woman in the state can fill it better than you."
+
+"Then why am I dismissed?" she asked breathlessly.
+
+The judge looked at her in silence, his blue lips quivering.  Sometimes
+even he found it hard to tell the truth.  And yet he had come to tell it,
+that she might suffer less.  He remembered the time when Isaac D.
+Worthington had done him a great wrong.
+
+"You are dismissed," he said, "because Mr. Worthington has come home, and
+because the two other members of the committee are dogs and cowards."
+Mr. Graves never minced matters when he began, and his voice shook with
+passion.  "If Mr. Errol had examined you, and you had your certificate,
+it might have been different.  Errol is not a sycophant.  Worthington
+does not hold his mortgage."
+
+"Mortgage!" exclaimed Cynthia.  The word always struck terror to her
+soul.
+
+"Mr. Worthington holds Mr. Hill's mortgage," said Mr. Graves, more than
+ever beside himself at the sight of her suffering.  "That man's tyranny
+is not to be borne.  We will not give up, Cynthia.  I will fight him in
+this matter if it takes my last ounce of strength, so help me God!"
+
+Mortgage!  Cynthia sank down in the chair by the desk.  In spite of the
+misery the news had brought, the thought that his father, too, who was
+fighting Jethro Bass as a righteous man, dealt in mortgages and coerced
+men to do his will, was overwhelming.  So she sat for a while staring at
+the landscape on the old wall paper.
+
+"I will go to Coniston to-night," she said at last.
+
+"No," cried the judge, seizing her shoulder in his excitement, "no.
+Do you think that I have been your friend--that I am your friend?"
+
+"Oh, Judge Graves--"
+
+"Then stay here, where you are.  I ask it as a favor to me.  You need not
+go to the school to-morrow--indeed, you cannot.  But stay here for a day
+or two at least, and if there is any justice left in a free country, we
+shall have it.  Will you stay, as a favor to me?"
+
+"I will stay, since you ask it," said Cynthia.  "I will do what you think
+right."
+
+Her voice was firmer than he expected--much firmer.  He glanced at her
+quickly, with something very like admiration in his eye.
+
+"You are a good woman, and a brave woman," he said, and with this
+somewhat surprising tribute he took his departure instantly.
+
+Cynthia was left to her thoughts, and these were harassing and sorrowful
+enough.  One idea, however, persisted through them all.  Mr. Worthington,
+whose power she had lived long enough in Brampton to know, was an unjust
+man and a hypocrite.  That thought was both sweet and bitter: sweet, as a
+retribution; and bitter, because he was Bob's father.  She realized, now,
+that Bob knew these things, and she respected and loved him the more, if
+that were possible, because he had refrained from speaking of them to
+her.  And now another thought came, and though she put it resolutely from
+her, persisted.  Was she not justified now in marrying him?  The
+reasoning was false, so she told herself.  She had no right to separate
+Bob from his father, whatever his father might be.  Did not she still
+love Jethro Bass?  Yes, but he had renounced his ways.  Her heart swelled
+gratefully as she spoke the words to herself, and she reflected that he,
+at least, had never been a hypocrite.
+
+Of one thing she was sure, now.  In the matter of the school she had
+right on her side, and she must allow Judge Graves to do whatever he
+thought proper to maintain that right.  If Isaac D. Worthington's
+character had been different, this would not have been her decision.  Now
+she would not leave Brampton in disgrace, when she had done nothing to
+merit it.  Not that she believed that the judge would prevail against
+such mighty odds.  So little did she think so that she fell, presently,
+into a despondency which in all her troubles had not overtaken her--the
+despondency which comes even to the pure and the strong when they feel
+the unjust strength of the world against them.  In this state her eyes
+fell on the letter she had started to Miss Lucretia Penniman, and in
+desperation she began to write.
+
+It was a short letter, reserved enough, and quite in character.  It was
+right that she should defend herself, which she did with dignity, saying
+that she believed the committee had no fault to find with her duties, but
+that Mr. Worthington had seen fit to bring influence to bear upon them
+because of her connection with Jethro Bass.
+
+It was not the whole truth, but Cynthia could not bring herself to write
+of that other reason.  At the end she asked, very simply, if Miss
+Lucretia could find her something to do in Boston in case her dismissal
+became certain.  Then she put on her coat, and walked to the postoffice
+to post the letter, for she resolved that there could be no shame without
+reason for it.  There was a little more color in her cheeks, and she held
+her head high, preparing to be slighted.  But she was not slighted, and
+got more salutations, if anything, than usual.  She was, indeed, in the
+right not to hide her head, and policy alone would have forbade it, had
+Cynthia thought of policy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+Public opinion is like the wind--it bloweth where it listeth.  It
+whistled around Brampton the next day, whirling husbands and wives apart,
+and families into smithereens.  Brampton had a storm all to itself--save
+for a sympathetic storm raging in Coniston--and all about a school-
+teacher.
+
+Had Cynthia been a certain type of woman, she would have had all the men
+on her side and all of her own sex against her.  It is a decided point to
+be recorded in her favor that she had among her sympathizers as many
+women as men.  But the excitement of a day long remembered in Brampton
+began, for her, when a score or more of children assembled in front of
+the little house, tramping down the snow on the grass plots, shouting for
+her to come to school with them.  Children give no mortgages, or keep no
+hardware stores.
+
+Cynthia, trying to read in front of the fire, was all in a tremble at the
+sound of the high-pitched little voices she had grown to love, and she
+longed to go out and kiss them, every one.  Her nature, however, shrank
+from any act which might appear dramatic or sensational.  She could not
+resist going to the window and smiling at them, though they appeared but
+dimly--little dancing figures in a mist.  And when they shouted, the more
+she shook her head and put her finger to her lips in reproof and vanished
+from their sight.  Then they trooped sadly on to school, resolved to make
+matters as disagreeable as possible for poor Miss Bruce, who had not
+offended in any way.
+
+Two other episodes worthy of a place in this act of the drama occurred
+that morning, and one had to do with Ephraim.  Poor Ephraim!  His way had
+ever been to fight and ask no questions, and in his journey through the
+world he had gathered but little knowledge of it.  He had limped home the
+night before in a state of anger of which Cynthia had not believed him
+capable, and had reappeared in the sitting room in his best suit of blue.
+
+"Where are you going, Cousin Eph?" Cynthia had asked suspiciously.
+
+"Never you mind, Cynthy."
+
+"But I do mind," she said, catching hold of his sleeve.  "I won't let you
+go until you confess."
+
+"I'm a-goin' to tell Isaac Worthington what I think of him, that's whar
+I'm a-goin'," cried Ephraim "what I always hev thought of him sence he
+sent a substitute to the war an' acted treasonable here to home talkin'
+ag'in' Lincoln."
+
+"Oh, Cousin Eph, you mustn't," said Cynthia, clinging to him with all her
+strength in her dismay.  It had taken every whit of her influence to
+persuade him to relinquish his purpose.  Cynthia knew very well that
+Ephraim meant to lay hands on Mr. Worthington, and it would indeed have
+been a disastrous hour for the first citizen if the old soldier had ever
+got into his library.  Cynthia pointed out, as best she might, that it
+would be an evil hour for her, too, and that her cause would be greatly
+injured by such a proceeding; she knew very well that it would ruin
+Ephraim, but he would not have listened to such an argument.
+
+The next thing he wished to do was to go to Coniston and rouse Jethro.
+Cynthia's heart stood still when he proposed this, for it touched upon
+her greatest fear,--which had impelled her to go to Coniston.  But she
+had hoped and believed that Jethro, knowing her feelings, would do
+nothing--since for her sake he had chosen to give up his power.  Now an
+acute attack of rheumatism had come to her rescue, and she succeeded in
+getting Ephraim off to bed, swathed in bandages.
+
+The next morning he had insisted upon hobbling away to the postoffice,
+where in due time he was discovered by certain members of the Brampton
+Club nailing to the wall a new engraving of Abraham Lincoln, and draping
+it with a little silk flag he had bought in Boston.  By which it will be
+seen that a potion of the Club were coming back to their old haunt.  This
+portion, it may be surmised, was composed of such persons alone as were
+likely to be welcomed by the postmaster.  Some of these had grievances
+against Mr. Worthington or Mr. Flint; others, in more prosperous
+circumstances, might have been moved by envy of these gentlemen; still
+others might have been actuated largely by righteous resentment at what
+they deemed oppression by wealth and power.  These members who came that
+morning comprised about one-fourth of those who formerly had been in the
+habit of dropping in for a chat, and their numbers were a fair indication
+of the fact that those who from various motives took the part of the
+schoolteacher in Brampton were as one to three.
+
+It is not necessary to repeat their expressions of indignation and
+sympathy.  There was a certain Mr. Gamaliel Ives in the town, belonging
+to an old Brampton family, who would have been the first citizen if that
+other first citizen had not, by his rise to wealth and power, so
+completely overshadowed him.  Mr. Ives owned a small mill on Coniston
+Water below the town.  He fairly bubbled over with civic pride, and he
+was an authority on all matters.  pertaining to Brampton's history.  He
+knew the "Hymn to Coniston" by heart.  But we are digressing a little.
+Mr. Ives, like that other Gamaliel of old, had exhorted his fellow-
+townsmen to wash their hands of the controversy.  But he was an intimate
+of Judge Graves, and after talking with that gentleman he became a
+partisan overnight; and when he had stopped to get his mail he had been
+lured behind the window by the debate in progress.  He was in the midst
+of some impromptu remarks when he recognized a certain brisk step behind
+him, and Isaac D. Worthington himself entered the sanctum!
+
+It must be explained that Mr. Worthington sometimes had an important
+letter to be registered which he carried to the postoffice with his own
+hands.  On such occasions--though not a member of the Brampton Club--he
+walked, as an overlord will, into any private place he chose, and
+recognized no partitions or barriers.  Now he handed the letter
+(addressed to a certain person in Cambridge, Massachusetts) to the
+postmaster.
+
+"You will kindly register that and give me a receipt, Mr. Prescott," he
+said.
+
+Ephraim turned from his contemplation of the features of the martyred
+President, and on his face was something of the look it might have worn
+when he confronted his enemies over the log-works at Five Forks.  No, for
+there was a vast contempt in his gaze now, and he had had no contempt for
+the Southerners, and would have shaken hands with any of them the moment
+the battle was over.  Mr. Worthington, in spite of himself, recoiled a
+little before that look, fearing, perhaps, physical violence.
+
+"I hain't a-goin' to hurt you, Mr. Worthington," Ephraim said, "but I am
+a-goin' to ask you to git out in front, and mighty quick.  If you hev any
+business with the postmaster, there's the window," and Ephraim pointed to
+it with his twisted finger.  "I don't allow nobody but my friends here,
+Mr. Worthington, and people I respect."
+
+Mr. Worthington looked--well, eye-witnesses give various versions as to
+how he looked.  All agree that his lip trembled; some say his eyes
+watered: at any rate, he quailed, stood a moment undecided, and then
+swung on his heel and walked to the partition door.  At this safe
+distance he turned.
+
+"Mr. Prescott," he said, his voice quivering with passion and perhaps
+another emotion, "I will make it my duty to report to the postmaster-
+general the manner in which this office is run.  Instead of attending to
+your business, you make the place a resort for loafers and idlers.  Good
+morning, sir."
+
+Ten minutes later Mr. Flint himself came to register the letter.  But it
+was done at the window, and the loafers and idlers were still there.
+
+The curtain had risen again, indeed, and the action was soon fast enough
+for the most impatient that day.  No sooner had the town heard with bated
+breath of the expulsion of the first citizen from the inner sanctuary of
+the post-office, than the news of another event began to go the rounds.
+Mr. Worthington had other and more important things to think about than
+minor postmasters, and after his anger and--yes, and momentary fear had
+subsided, he forgot the incident except to make a mental note to remember
+to deprive Mr. Prescott of his postmastership, which he believed could be
+done readily enough now that Jethro Bass was out of the way.  Then he had
+stepped into the bank, which he had come to regard as his own bank, as he
+regarded most institutions in Brampton.  He had, in the old days, been
+president of it, as we know.  He stepped into the bank, and then--he
+stepped out again.
+
+Most people have experienced that sickly feeling of the diaphragm which
+sometimes comes from a sadden shock.  Mr. Worthington had it now as he
+hurried up the street, and he presently discovered that he was walking in
+the direction opposite to that of his own home.  He crossed the street,
+made a pretence of going into Mr. Goldthwaite's drug store, and hurried
+back again.  When he reached his own library, he found Mr. Flint busy
+there at his desk.  Mr. Flint rose.  Mr. Worthington sat down and began
+to pull the papers about in a manner which betrayed to his seneschal (who
+knew every mood of his master) mental perturbation.
+
+"Flint," he said at last, striving his best for an indifferent accent,
+"Jethro Bass is here--I ran across him just now drawing money in the
+bank."
+
+"I could have told you that this morning," answered Mr. Flint.  "Wheeler,
+who runs errands for him in Coniston, drove him in this morning, and he's
+been with Peleg Hartington for two hours over Sherman's livery stable."
+
+An interval of silence followed, during which Mr. Worthington shuffled
+with his letters and pretended to read them.
+
+"Graves has called a mass meeting to-night, I understand," he remarked in
+the same casual way.  "The man's a demagogue, and mad as a loon.  I
+believe he sent back one of our passes once, didn't he?  I suppose Bass
+has come in to get Hartington to work up the meeting.  They'll be laughed
+out of the town hall, or hissed out."
+
+"I guess you'll find Bass has come down for something else," said Mr.
+Flint, looking up from a division report.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Worthington, changing his attitude to
+one of fierceness.  But he was well aware that whatever tone he took with
+his seneschal, he never fooled him.
+
+"I mean what I told you yesterday," said Flint, "that you've stirred up
+the dragon."
+
+Even Mr. Flint did not know how like a knell his words sounded in Isaac
+Worthington's ears.
+
+"Nonsense!" he cried, "you're talking nonsense, Flint.  We maimed him too
+thoroughly for that.  He hasn't power enough left to carry his own town."
+
+"All right," said the seneschal.
+
+"What do you mean by that?" said his master, with extreme irritation.
+
+"I mean what I said yesterday, that we haven't maimed him at all.  He had
+his own reasons for going into his hole, and he never would have come out
+again if you hadn't goaded him.  Now he's out, and we'll have to step
+around pretty lively, I can tell you, or he'll maim us."
+
+All of which goes to show that Mr. Flint had some notion of men and
+affairs.  He became, as may be predicted, the head of many material
+things in later days, and he may sometime reappear in company with other
+characters in this story.
+
+The sickly feeling in Mr. Worthington's diaphragm had now returned.
+
+"I think you will find you are mistaken, Flint," he said, attempting
+dignity now.  "Very much mistaken."
+
+"Very well," said Flint, "perhaps I am.  But I believe you'll find he
+left for the capital on the eleven o'clock, and if you take the trouble
+to inquire from Bedding you will probably learn that the Throne Room is
+bespoken for the session."
+
+All of that which Mr, Flint had predicted turned out to be true.  The
+dragon had indeed waked up.  It all began with the news Milly Skinner had
+got from the stage driver, imparted to Jethro as he sat reading about
+Hiawatha.  And terrible indeed had been that awakening.  This dragon did
+not bellow and roar and lash his tail when he was roused, but he stood
+up, and there seemed to emanate from him a fire which frightened poor
+Milly Skinner, upset though she was by the news of Cynthia's dismissal.
+O, wondrous and paradoxical might of love, which can tame the most
+powerful of beasts, and stir them again into furies by a touch!
+
+Coniston was the first to tremble, as though the forces stretching
+themselves in the tannery house were shaking the very ground, and the
+name of Jethro Bass took on once more, as by magic, a terrible meaning.
+When Vesuvius is silent, pygmies may make faces on the very lip of the
+crater, and they on the slopes forget the black terror of the fiery hail.
+Jake Wheeler himself, loyal as he was, did not care to look into the
+crater now that he was summoned; but a force pulled him all the way to
+the tannery house.  He left behind him an awe-stricken gathering at the
+store, composed of inhabitants who had recently spoken slightingly of the
+volcano.
+
+We are getting a little mixed in our metaphors between lions and dragons
+and volcanoes, and yet none of them are too strong to represent Jethro
+Bass when he heard that Isaac Worthington had had the teacher dismissed
+from Brampton lower school.  He did not stop to reason then that action
+might distress her.  The beast in him awoke again; the desire for
+vengeance on a man whom he had hated most of his life, and who now had
+dared to cause pain to the woman whom he loved with all his soul, and
+even idolize, was too great to resist.  He had no thought of resisting
+it, for the waters of it swept over his soul like the Atlantic over a
+lost continent.  He would crush Isaac Worthington if it took the last
+breath from his body.
+
+Jake went to the tannery house and received his orders--orders of which
+he made a great mystery afterward at the store, although they consisted
+simply of directions to be prepared to drive Jethro to Brampton the next
+morning.  But the look of the man had frightened Jake.  He had never seen
+vengeance so indelibly written on that face, and he had never before
+realized the terrible power of vengeance.  Mr. Wheeler returned from that
+meeting in such a state of trepidation that he found it necessary to
+accompany Rias to a certain keg in the cellar; after which he found his
+tongue.  His description of Jethro's appearance awed his hearers, and
+Jake declared that he would not be in Isaac Worthington's shoes for all
+of Isaac Worthington's money.  There were others right here in Coniston,
+Jake hinted, who might now find it convenient to emigrate to the far
+West.
+
+Jethro's face had not changed when Jake drove him out of Coniston the
+next morning.  Good Mr. Satterlee saw it, and felt that the visit he had
+wished to make would have been useless; Mr. Amos Cuthbert and Mr. Sam
+Price saw it, from a safe distance within the store, and it is a fact
+that Mr. Price seriously thought of taking Mr. Wheeler's advice about a
+residence in the West; Mr. Cuthbert, of a sterner nature, made up his
+mind to be hung and quartered.  A few minutes before Jethro walked into
+his office over the livery stable, Senator Peleg Hartington would have
+denied, with that peculiar and mournful scorn of which he was master,
+that Jethro Bass could ever again have any influence over him.  Peleg
+was, indeed, at that moment preparing, in his own way, to make overtures
+to the party of Isaac D. Worthington.  Jethro walked into the office,
+leaving Jake below with Mr. Sherman; and Senator Hartington was very glad
+he had not made the overtures.  And when he accompanied Jethro to the
+station when he left for the capital, the senator felt that the eyes of
+men were upon him.
+
+And Cynthia?  Happily, Cynthia passed the day in ignorance that Jethro
+had gone through Brampton.  Ephraim, though he knew of it, did not speak
+of it when he came home to his dinner; Mr. Graves had called, and
+informed her of the meeting in the town hall that night.
+
+"It is our only chance," he said obdurately, in answer to her protests.
+"We must lay the case before the people of Brampton.  If they have not
+the courage to right the wrong, and force your reinstatement through
+public opinion, there is nothing more to be done."
+
+To Cynthia, the idea of having a mass meeting concerning herself was
+particularly repellent.
+
+"Oh, Judge Graves!" she cried, "if there isn't any other way, please drop
+the matter.  There are plenty of teachers who will--be acceptable to
+everybody."
+
+"Cynthia," said the judge, "I can understand that this publicity is very
+painful to you.  I beg you to remember that we are contending for a
+principle.  In such cases the individual must be sacrificed to the common
+good."
+
+"But I cannot go to the meeting--I cannot."
+
+"No," said the judge; "I don't think that will be necessary."
+
+After he was gone, she could think of nothing but the horror of having
+her name--yes, and her character--discussed in that public place; and it
+seemed to her, if she listened, she could hear a  clatter of tongues
+throughout the length of Brampton Street, and that she must fain stop her
+ears or go mad.  The few ladies who called during the day out of kindness
+or curiosity, or both, only added to her torture.  She was not one who
+could open her heart to acquaintances: the curious ones got but little
+satisfaction, and the kind ones thought her cold, and they did not
+perceive that she was really grateful for their little attentions.
+Gratitude, on such occasions, does not always consist in pouring out
+one's troubles in the laps of visitors.
+
+So the visitors went home, wondering whether it were worth while after
+all to interest themselves in the cause of such a self-contained and
+self-reliant young woman.  In spite of all her efforts, Cynthia had never
+wholly succeeded in making most of the Brampton ladies believe that she
+did not secretly deem herself above them.  They belonged to a reserved
+race themselves; but Cynthia had a reserve which was even different from
+their own.
+
+As night drew on the predictions of Mr. Worthington seemed likely to be
+fulfilled, and it looked as if Judge Graves would have a useless bill to
+pay for gas in the new town hall.  The judge had never been a man who
+could compel a following, and he had no magnetism with which to lead a
+cause: the town tradesmen, especially those in the new brick block, would
+be chary as to risking the displeasure of their best customer.  At half-
+past seven Mr. Graves: came in, alone, and sat on the platform staring
+grimly at his gas.  Is there a lecturer, or, a playwright, or a
+politician, who has not, at one time or another, been in the judge's
+place?  Who cannot sympathize with him as he watched the thin and
+hesitating stream of people out of the corner of his eye as they came in
+at the door?  The judge despised them with all his soul, but it is human
+nature not to wish to sit in a hall or a theatre that is three-quarters
+empty.
+
+At sixteen minutes to eight a mild excitement occurred, an incident of
+some significance which served to detain many waverers.  Senator Peleg
+Hartington walked up the aisle, and the judge rose and shook him by the
+hand, and as Deacon Hartington he was invited to sit on the platform.
+The senator's personal influence was not to be ignored; and it had
+sufficed to carry his district in the last election against the
+Worthington forces, in spite of the abdication of Jethro Bass.  Mr. Page,
+the editor of the Clarion, Senator Hartington's organ, was also on the
+platform.  But where was Mr. Ives?  Where was that Gamaliel who had been
+such a warm partisan in the postoffice that morning?
+
+"Saw him outside the hall--wahn't but ten minutes ago," said Deacon
+Hartington, sadly; "thought he was a-comin' in."
+
+Eight o'clock came, and no Mr. Ives; ten minutes past--fifteen minutes
+past.  If the truth must be told, Mr. Ives had been on the very threshold
+of the hall, and one glance at the poor sprinkling of people there had
+decided him.  Mr. Ives had a natural aversion to being laughed at, and as
+he walked back on the darker side of the street he wished heartily that
+he had stuck to his original Gamaliel-advocacy of no interference, of
+allowing the Supreme Judge to decide.  Such opinions were inevitably
+just, Mr. Ives was well aware, though not always handed down immediately.
+If he were to humble the first citizen, Mr. Ives reflected that a better
+opportunity might present itself.  The whistle of the up-train served to
+strengthen his resolution, for he was reminded thereby that his mill
+often had occasion to ask favors of the Truro Railroad.
+
+In the meantime it was twenty minutes past eight in the town hall, and
+Mr. Graves had not rapped for order.  Deacon Hartington sat as motionless
+as a stork on the borders of a glassy lake at sunrise, the judge had
+begun seriously to estimate the gas bill, and Mr. Page had chewed up the
+end of a pencil.  There was one, at least, in the audience of whom the
+judge could be sure.  A certain old soldier in blue sat uncompromisingly
+on the front bench with his hands crossed over the head of his stick; but
+the ladies and gentlemen nearest the door were beginning to vanish, one
+by one, silently as ghosts, when suddenly the judge sat up.  He would
+have rubbed his eyes, had he been that kind of a man.  Four persons had
+entered the hall--he was sure of it--and with no uncertain steps as if
+frightened by its emptiness.  No, they came boldly.  And after them
+trooped others, and still others were heard in the street beyond, not
+whispering, but talking in the unmistakable tones of people who had more
+coming behind them.  Yes, and more came.  It was no illusion, or
+delusion: there they were filling the hall as if they meant to stay, and
+buzzing with excitement.  The judge was quivering with excitement now,
+but he, too, was only a spectator of the drama.  And what a drama, with a
+miracle-play for Brampton!
+
+Mr. Page rose from his chair and leaned over the edge of the platform
+that something might be whispered in his ear.  The news, whatever it was,
+was apparently electrifying, and after the first shock he turned to
+impart it to Mr. Graves; but turned too late, for the judge had already
+rapped for order and was clearing his throat.  He could not account for
+this extraordinary and unlooked-for audience, among whom he spied many
+who had thought it wiser not to protest against the dictum of the first
+citizen, and many who had professed to believe that the teacher's
+connection with Jethro Bass was a good and sufficient reason for
+dismissal.  The judge was prepared to take advantage of the tide,
+whatever its cause.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I take the liberty of calling this
+meeting to order.  And before a chairman be elected, I mean to ask your
+indulgence to explain my purposes in requesting the use of this hall to-
+night.  In our system of government, the inalienable and most precious
+gift--"
+
+Whatever the gift was, the judge never explained.  He paused at the
+words, and repeated them, and stopped altogether because no one was
+paying any attention to him.  The hall was almost full, the people had
+risen, with a hum, and as one man had turned toward the door.  Mr.
+Gamaliel Ives was triumphantly marching down the aisle, and with him was
+--well, another person.  Nay, personage would perhaps be the better word.
+
+Let us go back for a moment.  There descended from that train of which we
+have heard the whistle a lady with features of no ordinary moulding, with
+curls and a string bonnet and a cloak that seemed strangely to harmonize
+with the lady's character.  She had the way of one in authority, and Mr.
+Sherman himself ran to open the door of his only closed carriage, and the
+driver galloped off with her all the way to the Brampton House.  Once
+there, the lady seized the pen as a soldier seizes the sword, and wrote
+her name in most uncompromising characters on the register, Miss Lucretia
+Penniman, Boston.  Then she marched up to her room.
+
+Miss Lucretia Penniman, author of the "Hymn to Coniston," in the
+reflected glory of whose fame Brampton had shone for thirty years!  Whose
+name was lauded and whose poem was recited at every Fourth of July
+celebration, that the very children might learn it and honor its
+composer!  Stratford-on-Avon is not prouder of Shakespeare than Brampton
+of Miss Lucretia, and now she was come back, unheralded, to her
+birthplace.  Mr. Raines, the clerk, looked at the handwriting on the
+book, and would not believe his own sight until it was vouched for by
+sundry citizens who had followed the lady from the station--on foot.  And
+then there was a to-do.
+
+Send for Mr. Gamaliel Ives; send for Miss Bruce, the librarian; send for
+Mr. Page, editor of the Clarion, and notify the first citizen.  He,
+indeed, could not be sent for, but had he known of her coming he would
+undoubtedly have had her met at the portals and presented with the keys
+in gold.  Up and down the street flew the news which overshadowed and
+blotted out all other, and the poor little school-teacher was forgotten.
+
+One of these notables was at hand, though he did not deserve to be.  Mr.
+Gamaliel Ives sent up his card to Miss Lucretia, and was shown
+deferentially into the parlor, where he sat mopping his brow and growing
+hot and cold by turns.  How would the celebrity treat him?  The celebrity
+herself answered the question by entering the room in such stately manner
+as he had expected, to the rustle of the bombazine.  Whereupon Mr. Ives
+bounced out of his chair and bowed, though his body was not formed to
+bend that way.
+
+"Miss Penniman," he exclaimed, "what an honor for Brampton!  And what a
+pleasure, the greater because so unexpected!  How cruel not to have given
+us warning, and we could have greeted you as your great fame deserves!
+You could never take time from your great duties to accept the
+invitations of our literary committee, alas!  But now that you are here,
+you will find a warm welcome, Miss Penniman.  How long it has been--
+thirty years,--you see I know it to a day, thirty years since you left
+us.  Thirty years, I may say, we have kept burning the vestal fire in
+your worship, hoping for this hour."
+
+Miss Lucretia may have had her own ideas about the propriety of the
+reference to the vestal fire.
+
+"Gamaliel," she said sharply, "straighten up and don't talk nonsense to
+me.  I've had you on my knee, and I knew your mother and father."
+
+Gamaliel did straighten up, as though Miss Lucretia had applied a lump of
+ice to the small of his back.  So it is when the literary deities, vestal
+or otherwise, return to their Stratfords.  There are generally surprises
+in store for the people they have had on their knees, and for others.
+
+"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "I want to see the prudential committee
+for the village district."
+
+"The prudential committee!"  Mr. Ives fairly shrieked the words in his
+astonishment.
+
+"I tried to speak plainly," said Miss Lucretia.  "Who are on that
+committee?"
+
+"Ezra Graves," said Mr. Ives, as though mechanically compelled, for his
+head was spinning round.  "Ezra Graves always has run it, until now.  But
+he's in the town hall."
+
+"What's he doing there?"
+
+Mr. Ives was no fool.  Some inkling of the facts began to shoot through
+his brain, and he saw his chance.
+
+"He called a mass meeting to protest against the dismissal of a teacher."
+
+"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "you will conduct me to that meeting.  I
+will get my cloak."
+
+Mr. Ives wasted no time in the interval, and he fairly ran out into the
+office.  Miss Lucretia Penniman was in town, and would attend the mass
+meeting.  Now, indeed, it was to be a mass meeting.  Away flew the
+tidings, broadcast, and people threw off their carpet slippers and
+dressing gowns, and some who had gone to bed got up again.  Mr. Dodd
+heard it, and changed his shoes three times, and his intentions three
+times three.  Should he go, or should he not?  Already he heard in
+imagination the first distant note of the populace, and he was not of the
+metal to defend a Bastille or a Louvre for his royal master with the last
+drop of his blood.
+
+In the meantime Gamaliel Ives was conducting Miss Lucretia toward, the
+town hall, and speaking in no measured tones of indignation of the
+cringing, truckling qualities of that very Mr. Dodd.  The injustice to
+Miss Wetherell, which Mr. Ives explained as well as he could, made his
+blood boil: so he declared.
+
+And note we are back again at the meeting, when the judge, with his hand
+on his Adam's apple, is pronouncing the word "gift."  Mr. Ives is
+triumphantly marching down the aisle, escorting the celebrity of Brampton
+to the platform, and quite aware of the heart burnings of his fellow-
+citizens on the benches.  And Miss Lucretia, with that stern composure
+with which celebrities accept public situations, follows up the steps as
+of right and takes the chair he assigns her beside the chairman.  The
+judge, still grasping his Adam's apple, stares at the newcomer in
+amazement, and recognizes her in spite of the years, and trembles.  Miss
+Lucretia Penniman!  Blucher was not more welcome to Wellington, or
+Lafayette to Washington, than was Miss Lucretia to Ezra Graves as he
+turned his back on the audience and bowed to her deferentially.  Then he
+turned again, cleared his throat once more to collect his senses, and was
+about to utter the familiar words, "We have with us tonight," when they
+were taken out of his mouth--taken out of his mouth by one who had in all
+conscience stolen enough thunder for one man,--Mr. Gamaliel Ives.
+
+"Mr. Chairman," said Mr. Ives, taking a slight dropping of the judge's
+lower jaw for recognition, "and ladies and gentlemen of Brampton.  It is
+our great good fortune to have with us to-night, most unexpectedly, one
+of whom Brampton is, and for many years has been, justly proud."
+(Cheers.)  "One whose career Brampton has followed with a mother's eyes
+and with a mother's heart.  One who has chosen a broader field for the
+exercise of those great powers with which Nature endowed her than
+Brampton could give.  One who has taken her place among the luminaries of
+literature of her time."  (Cheers.)  "One who has done more than any
+other woman of her generation toward the uplifting of the sex which she
+honors."  (Cheers and clapping of hands.)  "And one who, though her lot
+has fallen among the great, has not forgotten the home of her childhood.
+For has she not written those beautiful lines which we all know by heart?
+
+         'Ah, Coniston! Thy lordly form I see
+          Before mine eyes in exile drear.'
+
+"Mr. Chairman and fellow-townsmen and women, I have the extreme honor of
+introducing to you one whom we all love and revere, the author of the
+'Hymn to Coniston,' the editor of the Woman's Hour, Miss Lucretia
+Penniman.'" (Loud and long-continued applause.)
+
+Well might Brampton be proud, too, of Gamaliel Ives, president of its
+literary club, who could make such a speech as this on such short notice.
+If the truth be told, the literary club had sent Miss Lucretia no less
+than seven invitations, and this was the speech Mr. Ives had intended to
+make on those seven occasions.  It was unquestionably a neat speech, and
+Judge Graves or no other chairman should cheat him out of making it.  Mr.
+Ives, with a wave of his hand toward the celebrity, sat down by no means
+dissatisfied with himself.  What did he care how the judge glared.  He
+did not see how stiffly Miss Lucretia sat in her chair.  She could not
+take him on her knee then, but she would have liked to.
+
+Miss Lucretia rose, and stood quite as stiffly as she had sat, and the
+judge rose, too.  He was very angry, but this was not the time to get
+even with Mr. Ives.  As it turned out, he did not need to bother about
+getting even.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "in the absence of any other chairman I
+take pleasure in introducing to you Miss Lucretia Penniman."
+
+More applause was started, but Miss Lucretia put a stop to it by the
+lifting of a hand.  Then there was a breathless silence.  Then she cast
+her eyes around the hall, as though daring any one to break that silence,
+and finally they rested upon Mr. Ives.
+
+"Mr. Chairman," she said, with an inclination toward the judge, "my
+friends--for I hope you will be my friends when I have finished" (Miss
+Lucretia made it quite clear by her tone that it entirely depended upon
+them whether they would be or not), "I understood when I came here that
+this was to be a mass meeting to protest against an injustice, and not a
+feast of literature and oratory, as Gamaliel Ives seems to suppose."
+
+She paused, and when the first shock of amazement was past an audible
+titter ran through the audience, and Mr. Ives squirmed visibly.
+
+"Am I right, Mr. Chairman?" asked Miss Lucretia.
+
+"You are unquestionably right, Miss Penniman," answered the chairman,
+rising, "unquestionably."
+
+"Then I will proceed," said Miss Lucretia.  "I wrote the Hymn to
+Coniston' many years ago, when I was younger, and yet it is true that I
+have always remembered Brampton with kindly feelings.  The friends of our
+youth are dear to us.  We look indulgently upon their failings, even as
+they do on ours.  I have scanned the faces here in the hall to-night, and
+there are some that have not changed beyond recognition in thirty years.
+Ezra Graves I remember, and it is a pleasure to see him in that chair."
+(Mr. Graves inclined his head, reverently.  None knew how the inner man
+exulted.) "But there was one who was often in Brampton in those days,"
+Miss Lucretia continued, "whom we all loved and with whom we found no
+fault, and I confess that when I have thought of Brampton I have oftenest
+thought of her.  Her name," said Miss Lucretia, her hand now in the
+reticule, "her name was Cynthia Ware."
+
+There was a decided stir among the audience, and many leaned forward to
+catch every word.
+
+"Even old people may have an ideal," said Miss Lucretia, "and you will
+forgive me for speaking of mine.  Where should I speak of it, if not in
+this village, among those who knew her and among their children?  Cynthia
+Ware, although she was younger than I, has been my ideal, and is still.
+She was the daughter of the Rev. Samuel Ware of Coniston, and a
+descendant of Captain Timothy Prescott, whom General Stark called 'Honest
+Tim.' She was, to me, all that a woman should be, in intellect, in her
+scorn of all that is ignoble and false, and in her loyalty to her
+friends."  Here the handkerchief came out of the reticule.  "She went to
+Boston to teach school, and some time afterward I was offered a position
+in New York, and I never saw her again.  But she married in Boston a man
+of learning and literary attainments, though his health was feeble and he
+was poor, William Wetherell."  (Another stir.) "Mr. Wetherell was a
+gentleman--Cynthia Ware could have married no other--and he came of good
+and honorable people in Portsmouth.  Very recently I read a collection of
+letters which he wrote to the Newcastle Guardian, which some of you may
+know.  I did not trust my own judgment as to those letters, but I took
+them to an author whose name is known wherever English is spoken, but
+which I will not mention.  And the author expressed it as his opinion, in
+writing to me, that William Wetherell was undoubtedly a genius of a high
+order, and that he would have been so recognized if life had given him a
+chance.  Mr. Wetherell, after his wife died, was taken in a dying
+condition to Coniston, where he was forced, in order to earn his living,
+to become the storekeeper there.  But he took his books with him, and
+found time to write the letters of which I have spoken, and to give his
+daughter an early education such as few girls have.
+
+"My friends, I am rejoiced to see that the spirit of justice and the
+sense of right are as strong in Brampton as they used to be--strong
+enough to fill this town hall to overflowing because a teacher has been
+wrongly--yes, and iniquitously--dismissed from the lower school."  (Here
+there was a considerable stir, and many wondered whether Miss Lucretia
+was aware of the irony in her words.) "I say wrongly and iniquitously,
+because I have had the opportunity in Boston this winter of learning to
+know and love that teacher.  I am not given to exaggeration, my friends,
+and when I tell you that I know her, that her character is as high and
+pure as her mother's, I can say no more.  I am here to tell you this to-
+night because I do not believe you know her as I do.  During the seventy
+years I have lived I have grown to have but little faith in outward
+demonstration, to believe in deeds and attainments rather than
+expressions.  And as for her fitness to teach, I believe that even the
+prudential committee could find no fault with that."  (I wonder whether
+Mr. Dodd was in the back of the hall.)  "I can find no fault with it.  I
+am constantly called upon to recommend teachers, and I tell you I should
+have no hesitation in sending Cynthia Wetherell to a high school, young
+as she is."
+
+"And now, my friends, why was she dismissed?  I have heard the facts,
+though not from her.  Cynthia Wetherell does not know that I have come to
+Brampton, unless somebody has told her, and did not know that I was
+coming.  I have heard the facts, and I find it difficult to believe that
+so great a wrong could be attempted against a woman, and if the name of
+Cynthia Wetherell had meant no more to me than the letters in it I should
+have travelled twice as far as Brampton, old as I am, to do my utmost to
+right that wrong.  I give you my word of honor that I have never been so
+indignant in my life.  I do not come here to stir up enmities among you,
+and I will mention no more names.  I prefer to believe that the
+prudential committee of this district has made a mistake, the gravity of
+which they must now realize, and that they will reinstate Cynthia
+Wetherell to-morrow.  And if they should not of their own free will, I
+have only to look around this meeting to be convinced that they will be
+compelled to.  Compelled to, my friends, by the sense of justice and the
+righteous indignation of the citizens of Brampton."
+
+Miss Lucretia sat down, her strong face alight with the spirit that was
+in her.  Not the least of the compelling forces in this world is
+righteous anger, and when it is exercised by a man or a woman whose life
+has been a continual warfare against the pests of wrong, it is well-nigh
+irresistible.  While you could count five seconds the audience sat
+silent, and then began such tumult and applause as had never been seen in
+Brampton--all started, so it is said, by an old soldier in the front row
+with his stick.  Isaac D. Worthington, sitting alone in the library of
+his mansion, heard it, and had no need to send for Mr. Flint to ask what
+it was, or who it was had fired the Third Estate.  And Mr. Dodd heard it.
+He may have been in the hall, but now he sat at home, seeing visions of
+the lantern, and he would have fled to the palace had he thought to get
+any sympathy from his sovereign.  No, Mr. Dodd did not hold the Bastille
+or even fight for it.  Another and a better man gave up the keys, for
+heroes are sometimes hidden away in meek and retiring people who wear
+spectacles and have a stoop to their shoulders.  Long before the
+excitement died away a dozen men were on their feet shouting at the
+chairman, and among them was the tall, stooping man with spectacles.  He
+did not shout, but Judge Graves saw him and made up his mind that this
+was the man to speak.  The chairman raised his hand and rapped with his
+gavel, and at length he had obtained silence.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I am going to recognize Mr. Hill of the
+prudential committee, and ask him to step up on the platform."
+
+There fell another silence, as absolute as the first, when Mr. Hill
+walked down the aisle and climbed the steps.  Indeed, people were
+stupefied, for the feed dealer was a man who had never opened his mouth
+in town-meeting; who had never taken an initiative of any kind; who had
+allowed other men to take advantage of him, and had never resented it.
+And now he was going to speak.  Would he defend the prudential committee,
+or would he declare for the teacher?  Either course, in Mr. Hill's case,
+required courage, and he had never been credited with any.  If Mr. Hill
+was going to speak at all, he was going to straddle.
+
+He reached the platform, bowed irresolutely to the chairman, and then
+stood awkwardly with one knee bent, peering at his audience over his
+glasses.  He began without any address whatever.
+
+"I want to say," he began in a low voice, "that I had no intention of
+coming to this meeting.  And I am going to confess--I am going to confess
+that I was afraid to come."  He raised his voice a little defiantly a the
+words, and paused.  One could almost hear the people breathing.  "I was
+afraid to come for fear that I should do the very thing I am going to do
+now.  And yet I was impelled to come.  I want to say that my conscience
+has not been clear since, as a member of the prudential committee, I gave
+my consent to the dismissal of Miss Wetherell.  I know that I was
+influenced by personal and selfish considerations which should have had
+no weight.  And after listening to Miss Penniman I take this opportunity
+to declare, of my own free will, that I will add my vote to that of Judge
+Graves to reinstate Miss Wetherell."
+
+Mr. Hill bowed slightly, and was about to descend the steps when the
+chairman, throwing parliamentary dignity to the winds, arose and seized
+the feed dealer's hand.  And the people in the hall almost as one man
+sprang to their feet and cheered, and some--Ephraim Prescott among these-
+-even waved their hats and shouted Mr. Hill's name.  A New England
+audience does not frequently forget itself, but there were few present
+who did not understand the heroism of the man's confession, who were not
+carried away by the simple and dramatic dignity of it.  He had no need to
+mention Mr. Worthington's name, or specify the nature of his obligations
+to that gentleman.  In that hour Jonathan Hill rose high in the respect
+of Brampton, and some pressed into the aisle to congratulate him on his
+way back to his seat.  Not a few were grateful to him for another reason.
+He had relieved the meeting of the necessity of taking any further
+action: of putting their names, for instance, in their enthusiasm to a
+paper which the first citizen might see.
+
+Judge Graves, whose sense of a climax was acute, rapped for order.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, in a voice not wholly free from emotion,
+"you will all wish to pay your respects to the famous lady, who is with
+us.  I see that the Rev. Mr. Sweet is present, and I suggest that we
+adjourn, after he has favored us with a prayer."
+
+As the minister came forward, Deacon Hartington dropped his head and
+began to flutter his eyelids.  The Rev. Mr. Sweet prayed, and so was
+brought to an end the most exciting meeting ever held in Brampton town
+hall.
+
+But Miss Lucretia did not like being called "a famous lady."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+While Miss Lucretia was standing, unwillingly enough, listening to the
+speeches that were poured into her ear by various members of the
+audience, receiving the incense and myrrh to which so great a celebrity
+was entitled, the old soldier hobbled away to his little house as fast as
+his three legs would carry him.  Only one event in his life had eclipsed
+this in happiness--the interview in front of the White House.  He rapped
+on the window with his stick, thereby frightening Cynthia half out of her
+wits as she sat musing sorrowfully by the fire.
+
+"Cousin Ephraim," she said, taking off his corded hat, "what in the
+world's the matter with you?"
+
+"You're a schoolmarm again, Cynthy."
+
+"Do you mean to say?"
+
+"Miss Lucretia Penniman done it."
+
+"Miss Lucretia Penniman!"  Cynthia began to think his rheumatism was
+driving him out of his mind.
+
+"You bet.  'Long toward the openin' of the engagement there wahn't
+scarcely anybody thar but me, and they was a-goin'.  But they come fast
+enough when they l'arned she was in town, and she blew 'em up higher'n
+the Petersburg crater.  Great Tecumseh, there's a woman!  Next to General
+Grant, I'd sooner shake her hand than anybody's livin'."
+
+"Do you mean to say that Miss Lucretia is in Brampton and spoke at the
+mass meeting?"
+
+"Spoke!" exclaimed Ephraim, "callate she did--some.  Tore 'em all up.
+They'd a hung Isaac D. Worthington or Levi Dodd if they'd a had 'em
+thar."
+
+Cynthia, striving to be calm herself, got him into a chair and took his
+stick and straightened out his leg, and then Ephraim told her the story,
+and it lost no dramatic effect in his telling.  He would have talked all
+night.  But at length the sound of wheels was heard in the street,
+Cynthia flew to the door, and a familiar voice came out of the darkness.
+
+"You need not wait, Gamaliel.  No, thank you, I think I will stay at the
+hotel."
+
+Gamaliel was still protesting when Miss Lucretia came in and seized
+Cynthia in her arms, and the door was closed behind her.
+
+"Oh, Miss Lucretia, why did you come?" said Cynthia, "if I had known you
+would do such a thing, I should never have written that letter.  I have
+been sorry to-day that I did write it, and now I'm sorrier than ever."
+
+"Aren't you glad to see me?" demanded Miss Lucretia.
+
+"Miss Lucretia!"
+
+"What are friends for?" asked Miss Lucretia, patting her hand.  "If you
+had known how I wished to see you, Cynthia, and I thought a little trip
+would be good for such a provincial Bostonian as I am.  Dear, dear, I
+remember this house.  It used to belong to Gabriel Post in my time, and
+right across from it was the Social Library, where I have spent so many
+pleasant hours with your mother.  And this is Ephraim Prescott.  I
+thought it was, when I saw him sitting in the front row, and I think he
+must have been very lonesome there at one time."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," said Ephraim, giving her his gnarled fingers; "I was just
+sayin' to Cynthy that I'd ruther shake your hand than anybody's livin'
+exceptin' General Grant."
+
+"And I'd rather shake yours than the General's," said Miss Lucretia, for
+the Woman's Hour had taken the opposition side in a certain recent public
+question concerning women.
+
+"If you'd a fit with him, you wouldn't say that, Miss Lucrety."
+
+"I haven't a word to say against his fighting qualities," she replied.
+
+"Guess the General might say the same of you," said Ephraim.  "If you'd a
+b'en a man, I callate you'd a come out of the war with two stars on your
+shoulder.  Godfrey, Miss Lucrety, you'd ought to've b'en a man."
+
+"A man!" cried Miss Lucretia, "and 'stars on my shoulder'!  I think this
+kind of talk has gone far enough, Ephraim Prescott."
+
+"Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing, "you're no match for Miss Lucretia,
+and it's long past your bedtime."
+
+"A man!" repeated Miss Lucretia, after he had retired, and after Cynthia
+had tried to express her gratitude and had been silenced.  They sat side
+by side in front of the chimney.  "I suppose he meant that as a
+compliment. I never yet saw the man I couldn't back down, and I haven't
+any patience with a woman who gives in to them."  Miss Lucretia poked
+vigorously a log which had fallen down, as though that were a man, too,
+and she was putting him back in his proper place.
+
+Cynthia, strange to say, did not reply to this remark.
+
+"Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, abruptly, "you don't mean to say that you
+are in love!"
+
+Cynthia drew a long breath, and grew as red as the embers.
+
+"Miss Lucretia!" she exclaimed, in astonishment and dismay.
+
+"Well," Miss Lucretia said, "I should have thought you could have gotten
+along, for a while at least, without anything of that kind.  My dear,"
+she said leaning toward Cynthia, "who is he?"
+
+Cynthia turned away.  She found it very hard to speak of her troubles,
+even to Miss Lucretia, and she would have kept this secret even from
+Jethro, had it been possible.
+
+"You must let him know his place," said Miss Lucretia, "and I hope he is
+in some degree worthy of you."
+
+"I do not intend to marry him," said Cynthia, with head still turned
+away.
+
+It was now Miss Lucretia who was silent.
+
+"I came near getting married once," she said presently, with
+characteristic abruptness.
+
+"You!" cried Cynthia, looking around in amazement.
+
+"You see, I am franker than you, my dear--though I never told any one
+else.  I believe you can keep a secret."
+
+"Of course I can.  Who--was it anyone in Brampton, Miss Lucretia?"  The
+question was out before Cynthia realized its import.  She was turning the
+tables with a vengeance.
+
+"It was Ezra Graves," said Miss Lucretia.
+
+"Ezra Graves!"  And then Cynthia pressed Miss Lucretia's hand in silence,
+thinking how strange it was that both of them should have been her
+champions that evening.
+
+Miss Lucretia poked the fire again.
+
+"It was shortly after that, when I went to Boston, that I wrote the 'Hymn
+to Coniston.'  I suppose we must all be fools once or twice, or we should
+not be human."
+
+"And--weren't you ever--sorry?" asked Cynthia.
+
+Again there was a silence.
+
+"I could not have done the work I have had to do in the world if I had
+married.  But I have often wondered whether that work was worth the
+while.  Such a feeling must come over all workers, occasionally.  Yes,"
+said Miss Lucretia, "there have been times when I have been sorry, my
+dear, though I have never confessed it to another soul.  I am telling you
+this for your own good--not mine.  If you have the love of a good man,
+Cynthia, be careful what you do with it."
+
+The tears had come into Cynthia's eyes.
+
+"I should have told you, Miss Lucretia," she faltered.  "If I could have
+married him, it would have been easier."
+
+"Why can't you marry him?" demanded Miss Lucretia, sharply--to hide her
+own emotion.
+
+"His name," said Cynthia, "is Bob Worthington:"
+
+"Isaac Worthington's son?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Another silence, Miss Lucretia being utterly unable to say anything for a
+space.
+
+"Is he a good man?"
+
+Cynthia was on the point of indignant-protest, but she stopped herself in
+time.
+
+"I will tell you what he has done," she answered, "and then you shall
+judge for yourself."
+
+And she told Miss Lucretia, simply, all that Bob had done, and all that
+she herself had done.
+
+"He is like his mother, Sarah Hollingsworth; I knew her well," said Miss
+Lucretia.  "If Isaac Worthington were a man, he would be down on his
+knees begging you to marry his son.  He tried hard enough to marry your
+own mother."
+
+"My mother!" exclaimed Cynthia, who had never believed that rumor.
+
+"Yes," said Miss Lucretia, "and you may thank your stars he didn't
+succeed.  I mistrusted him when he was a young man, and now I know that
+he hasn't changed.  He is a coward and a hypocrite."
+
+Cynthia could not deny this.
+
+"And yet," she said, after a moment's silence, "I am sure you will say
+that I have been right.  My own conscience tells me that it is wrong to
+deprive Bob of his inheritance, and to separate him from his father,
+whatever his father--may be."
+
+"We shall see what happens in five years," said Miss Lucretia.
+
+"Five years!" said Cynthia, in spite of herself.
+
+"Jacob served seven for Rachel," answered Miss Lucretia; "that period is
+scarcely too short to test a man, and you are both young."
+
+"No," said Cynthia, "I cannot marry him, Miss Lucretia.  The world would
+accuse me of design, and I feel that I should not be happy.  I am sure
+that he would never reproach me, even if things went wrong, but--the day
+might come when--when he would wish that it had been otherwise."
+
+Miss Lucretia kissed her.
+
+"You are very young, my dear," she repeated, "and none of us may say what
+changes time may bring forth.  And now I must go."
+
+Cynthia insisted upon walking with her friend down the street to the
+hotel--an undertaking that was without danger in Brampton.  And it was
+only a step, after all.  A late moon floated in the sky, throwing in
+relief the shadow of the Worthington mansion against the white patches of
+snow.  A light was still burning in the library.
+
+The next morning after breakfast Miss Lucretia appeared at the little
+house, and informed Cynthia that she would walk to school with her.
+
+"But I have not yet been notified by the Committee," said Cynthia.  There
+was a knock at the door, and in walked Judge Ezra Graves.  Miss Lucretia
+may have blushed, but it is certain that Cynthia did.  Never had she seen
+the judge so spick and span, and he wore the broadcloth coat he usually
+reserved for Sundays.  He paused at the threshold, with his hand on his
+Adam's apple.
+
+"Good morning, ladies," he said, and looked shyly at Miss Lucretia and
+cleared his throat, and spoke with the elaborate decorum he used on
+occasions, "Miss Penniman, I wish to thank you again for your noble
+action of last evening."
+
+"Don't 'Miss Penniman' me, Ezra Graves," retorted Miss Lucretia; "the
+only noble action I know of was poor Jonathan Hill's--unless it was
+paying for the gas."
+
+This was the way in which Miss Lucretia treated her lover after thirty
+years!  Cynthia thought of what the lady had said to her a few hours
+since, by this very fire, and began to believe she must have dreamed it.
+Fires look very differently at night--and sometimes burn brighter then.
+The judge parted his coat tails, and seated himself on the wooden edge of
+a cane-bottomed chair.
+
+"Lucretia," he said, "you haven't changed."
+
+"You have, Ezra," she replied, looking at the Adam's apple.
+
+"I'm an old man," said Ezra Graves.
+
+Cynthia could not help thinking that he was a very different man, in Miss
+Lucretia's presence, than when at the head of the prudential committee.
+
+"Ezra," said Miss Lucretia, "for a man you do very well."
+
+The judge smiled.
+
+"Thank you, Lucretia," said he.  He seemed to appreciate the full extent
+of the compliment.
+
+"Judge Graves," said Cynthia, "I can tell you how good you are, at least,
+and thank you for your great kindness to me, which I shall never forget."
+
+She took his withered hands from his knees and pressed them.  He returned
+the pressure, and then searched his coat tails, found a handkerchief, and
+blew his nose violently.
+
+"I merely did my duty, Miss Wetherell," he said.  "I would not wilfully
+submit to a wrong."
+
+"You called me Cynthia yesterday."
+
+"So I did," he answered, "so I did."  Then he looked at Miss Lucretia.
+
+"Ezra," said that lady, smiling a little, "I don't believe you have
+changed, after all."
+
+What she meant by that nobody knows.
+
+"I had thought, Cynthia," said the judge, "that it might be more
+comfortable for you to have me go to the school with you.  That is the
+reason for my early call."
+
+"Judge Graves, I do appreciate your kindness," said Cynthia; "I hope you
+won't think I'm rude if I say I'd rather go alone."
+
+"On the contrary, my dear," replied the judge, "I think I can understand
+and esteem your feeling in the matter, and it shall be as you wish."
+
+"Then I think I had better be going," said Cynthia.  The judge rose in
+alarm at the words, but she put her hand on his shoulder.  "Won't you sit
+down and stay," she begged, "you haven't seen Miss Lucretia for how many
+years,--thirty, isn't it?"
+
+Again he glanced at Miss Lucretia, uncertainly.  "Sit down, Ezra," she
+commanded, "and for goodness' sake don't be afraid of the cane bottom.
+You won't go through it.  I should like to talk to you, and most of the
+gossips of our day are dead.  I shall stay in Brampton to-day, Cynthia,
+and eat supper with you here this evening."
+
+Cynthia, as she went out of the door, wondered what they would talk
+about.  Then she turned toward the school.  It was not the March wind
+that burned her cheeks; as she thought of the mass meeting the night
+before, which was all about her, she wished she might go to school that
+morning through the woods and pasture lots rather than down Brampton
+Street.  What--what would Bob say when he heard of the meeting?  Would he
+come again to Brampton?  If he did, she would run away to Boston with
+Miss Lucretia.  Every day it had been a trial to pass the Worthington
+house, but she could not cross the wide street to avoid it.  She hurried
+a little, unconsciously, when she came to it, for there was Mr.
+Worthington on the steps talking to Mr. Flint.  How he must hate her now,
+Cynthia reflected!  He did not so much as look up when she passed.
+
+The other citizens whom she met made up for Mr. Worthington's coldness,
+and gave her a hearty greeting, and some stopped to offer their
+congratulations.  Cynthia did not pause to philosophize: she was learning
+to accept the world as it was, and hurried swiftly on to the little
+schoolhouse.  The children saw her coming, and ran to meet her and
+escorted her triumphantly in at the door.  Of their welcome she could be
+sure.  Thus she became again teacher of the lower school.
+
+How the judge and Miss Lucretia got along that morning, Cynthia never
+knew.  Miss Lucretia spent the day in her old home, submitting to hero-
+worship, and attended an evening party in her honor at Mr. Gamaliel
+Ives's house--a mansion not so large as the first citizen's, though it
+had two bay-windows and was not altogether unimposing.  The first
+citizen, needless to say, was not there, but the rest of the elite
+attended.  Mr. Ives will tell you all about the entertainment if you go
+to Brampton, but the real reason Miss Lucretia consented to go was to
+please Lucy Baird, who was Gamaliel's wife, and to chat with certain old
+friends whom she had not seen.  The next morning she called at the school
+to bid Cynthia good-by, and to whisper something in her ear which made
+her very red before all the scholars.  She shook her head when Miss
+Lucretia said it, for it had to do with an incident in the 29th chapter
+of Genesis.
+
+While Jonathan Hill was being made a hero of in the little two-by-four
+office of the feed store the morning after the mass meeting (though
+nobody offered to take over his mortgage), Mr. Dodd was complaining to
+his wife of shooting pains, and "callated" he would stay at home that
+day.
+
+"Shootin' fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Dodd.  "Get along down to the store
+and face the music, Levi Dodd.  You'd have had shootin' pains if you'd a
+went to the meetin'."
+
+"I might stop by at Mr. Worthington's house and explain how powerless I
+was--"
+
+"For goodness' sake git out, Levi.  I guess he knows how powerless you
+are with your shootin' pains.  If you only could forget Isaac D.
+Worthington for three minutes, you wouldn't have 'em."
+
+Mr. Dodd's two clerks saw him enter the store by the back door and he was
+very much interested in the new ploughs which were piled up in crates
+outside of it.  Then he disappeared into his office and shut the door,
+and supposedly became very much absorbed in book-keeping.  If any one
+called, he was out--any one.  Plenty of people did call, but he was not
+disturbed--until ten o'clock.  Mr. Dodd had a very sensitive ear, and he
+could often recognize a man by his step, and this man he recognized.
+
+"Where's Mr. Dodd?" demanded the owner of the step, indignantly.
+
+"He's out, Mr. Worthington.  Anything I can do for you, Mr. Worthington?"
+
+"You can tell him to come up to my house the moment he comes in."
+
+Unfortunately Mr. Dodd in the office had got into a strained position.
+He found it necessary to move a little; the day-book fell heavily to the
+floor, and the perspiration popped out all over his forehead.  Come out,
+Levi Dodd.  The Bastille is taken, but there are other fortresses still
+in the royal hands where you may be confined.
+
+"Who's in the office?"
+
+"I don't know, sir," answered the clerk, winking at his companion, who
+was sorting nails.
+
+In three strides the great man had his hand on the office door and had
+flung it open, disclosing the culprit cowering over the day-book on the
+floor.
+
+"Mr. Dodd," cried the first citizen, "what do you mean by--?"
+
+Some natures, when terrified, are struck dumb.  Mr. Dodd's was the kind
+which bursts into speech.
+
+"I couldn't help it, Mr. Worthington," he cried, "they would have it.
+I don't know what got into 'em.  They lost their senses, Mr. Worthington,
+plumb lost their senses.  If you'd a b'en there, you might have brought
+'em to.  I tried to git the floor, but Ezry Graves--"
+
+"Confound Ezra Graves, and wait till I have done, can't you," interrupted
+the first citizen, angrily.  "What do you mean by putting a bath-tub into
+my house with the tin loose, so that I cut my leg on it?"
+
+Mr. Dodd nearly fainted from sheer relief.
+
+"I'll put a new one in to-day, right now," he gasped.
+
+"See that you do," said the first citizen, "and if I lose my leg, I'll
+sue you for a hundred thousand dollars."
+
+"I was a-goin' to explain about them losin' their heads at the mass
+meetin'--"
+
+"Damn their heads!" said the first citizen.  "And yours, too," he may
+have added under his breath as he stalked out.  It was not worth a swing
+of the executioner's axe in these times of war.  News had arrived from
+the state capital that morning of which Mr. Dodd knew nothing.  Certain
+feudal chiefs from the North Country, of whose allegiance Mr. Worthington
+had felt sure, had obeyed the summons of their old sovereign, Jethro
+Bass, and had come South to hold a conclave under him at the Pelican.
+Those chiefs of the North Country, with their clans behind them as one
+man, what a power they were in the state!  What magnificent qualities
+they had, in battle or strategy, and how cunning and shrewd was their
+generalship!  Year after year they came down from their mountains and
+fought shoulder to shoulder, and year after year they carried back the
+lion's share of the spoils between them.  The great South, as a whole,
+was powerless to resist them, for there could be no lasting alliance
+between Harwich and Brampton and Newcastle and Gosport.  Now their king
+had come back, and the North Country men were rallying again to his
+standard.  No wonder that Levi Dodd's head, poor thing that it was, was
+safe for a while.
+
+"Organize what you have left, and be quick about it," said Mr. Flint,
+when the news had come, and they sat in the library planning a new
+campaign in the face of this evident defection.  There was no time to cry
+over spilt milk or reinstated school-teachers.  The messages flew far and
+wide to the manufacturing towns to range their guilds into line for the
+railroads.  The seneschal wrote the messages, and sent the summons to the
+sleek men of the cities, and let it be known that the coffers were full
+and not too tightly sealed, that the faithful should not lack for the
+sinews of war.  Mr. Flint found time, too, to write some carefully worded
+but nevertheless convincing articles for the Newcastle Guardian, very
+damaging to certain commanders who had proved unfaithful.
+
+"Flint," said Mr. Worthington, when they had worked far into the night,
+"if Bass beats us, I'm a crippled man."
+
+"And if you postpone the fight now that you have begun it?  What then?"
+
+The answer, Mr. Worthington knew, was the same either way.  He did not
+repeat it.  He went to his bed, but not to sleep for many hours, and when
+he came down to his breakfast in the morning, he was in no mood to read
+the letter from Cambridge which Mrs. Holden had put on his plate.  But he
+did read it, with what anger and bitterness may be imagined.  There was
+the ultimatum,--respectful, even affectionate, but firm.  "I know that
+you will, in all probability, disinherit me as you say, and I tell you
+honestly that I regret the necessity of quarrelling with you more than I
+do the money.  I do not pretend to say that I despise money, and I like
+the things that it buys, but the woman I love is more to me than all that
+you have."
+
+Mr. Worthington laid the letter down, and there came irresistibly to his
+mind something that his wife had said to him before she died, shortly
+after they had moved into the mansion.  "Dudley, how happy we used to be
+together before we were rich!"  Money had not been everything to Sarah
+Worthington, either.  But now no tender wave of feeling swept over him as
+he recalled those words.  He was thinking of what weapon he had to
+prevent the marriage beyond that which was now useless--disinheritance.
+He would disinherit Bob, and that very day.  He would punish his son to
+the utmost of his power for marrying the ward of Jethro Bass.  He
+wondered bitterly, in case a certain event occurred, whether he would
+have much to alienate.
+
+When Mr. Flint arrived, fresh as usual in spite of the work he had
+accomplished and the cigars he had smoked the night before, Mr.
+Worthington still had the letter in his hand, and was pacing his library
+floor, and broke into a tirade against his son.
+
+"After all I have done for him, building up for him a position and a
+fortune that is only surpassed by young Duncan's, to treat me in this
+way, to drag down the name of Worthington in the mire.  I'll never
+forgive him.  I'll send for Dixon and leave the money for a hospital in
+Brampton.  Can't you suggest any way out of this, Flint?"
+
+"No," said Flint, "not now. The only chance you have is to ignore the
+thing from now on.  He may get tired of her--I've known such things to
+happen."
+
+"When she hears that I've disinherited him, she will get tired of him,"
+declared Mr. Worthington.
+
+"Try it and see, if you like," said Flint.
+
+"Look here, Flint, if the woman has a spark of decent feeling, as you
+seem to think, I'll send for her and tell her that she will ruin Robert
+if she marries him."  Mr. Worthington always spoke of his son as
+"Robert."
+
+"You ought to have thought of that before the mass meeting.  Perhaps it
+would have done some good then."
+
+"Because this Penniman woman has stirred people up--is that what you
+mean?  I don't care anything about that.  Money counts in the long run."
+
+"If money counted with this school-teacher, it would be a simple matter.
+I think you'll find it doesn't."
+
+"I've known you to make some serious mistakes," snapped Mr. Worthington.
+
+"Then why do you ask for my advice?"
+
+"I'll send for her, and appeal to her better nature," said Mr.
+Worthington, with an unconscious and sublime irony.
+
+Flint gave no sign that he heard.  Mr. Worthington seated himself at his
+desk, and after some thought wrote on a piece of note-paper the following
+lines: "My dear Miss Wetherell, I should be greatly obliged if you would
+find it convenient to call at my house at eight o'clock this evening,"
+and signed them," Sincerely Yours."  He sealed them up in an envelope and
+addressed it to Miss Wetherell, at the schoolhouse; and handed it to Mr.
+Flint.  That gentleman got as far as the door, and then he hesitated and
+turned.
+
+"There is just one way out of this for you, that I can see, Mr.
+Worthington," he said.  "It's a desperate measure, but it's worth
+thinking about."
+
+"What's that?"
+
+It took some courage for Mr. Flint, to make the suggestion.  "The girl's
+a good girl, well educated, and by no means bad looking.  Bob might do a
+thousand times worse.  Give your consent to the marriage, and Jethro Bass
+will go back to Coniston."
+
+It was wisdom such as few lords get from their seneschals, but Isaac D.
+Worthington did not so recognize it.  His anger rose and took away his
+breath as he listened to it.
+
+"I will never give my consent to it, never--do you hear?--never.  Send
+that note!" he cried.
+
+Mr. Flint walked out, sent the note, and returned and took his place
+silently at his own table.  He was a man of concentration, and he put his
+mind on the arguments he was composing to certain political leaders.  Mr.
+Worthington merely pretended to work as he waited for the answer to come
+back.  And presently, when it did come back, he tore it open and read it
+with an expression not often on his lips.  He flung the paper at Mr.
+Flint.
+
+"Read that," he said.
+
+This is what Mr. Flint read: "Miss Wetherell begs to inform Mr. Isaac D.
+Worthington that she can have no communication or intercourse with him
+whatsoever."
+
+Mr. Flint handed it back without a word.  His opinion of the school-
+teacher had risen mightily, but he did not say so.  Mr. Worthington took
+the note, too, without a word.  Speech was beyond him, and he crushed the
+paper as fiercely as he would have liked to have crushed Cynthia, had she
+been in his hands.
+
+One accomplishment which Cynthia had learned at Miss Sadler's school was
+to write a letter in the third person, Miss Sadler holding that there
+were occasions when it was beneath a lady's dignity to write a direct
+note.  And Cynthia, sitting at her little desk in the schoolhouse during
+her recess, had deemed this one of the occasions.  She could not bring
+herself to write, "My dear Mr. Worthington."  Her anger, when the note
+had been handed to her, was for the moment so great that she could not go
+on with her classes; but she had controlled it, and compelled Silas to
+stand in the entry until recess, when she sat with her pen in her hand
+until that happy notion of the third person occurred to her.  And after
+Silas had gone she sat still; though trembling a little at intervals,
+picturing with some satisfaction Mr. Worthington's appearance when he
+received her answer.  Her instinct told her that he had received his
+son's letter, and that he had sent for her to insult her.  By sending for
+her, indeed, he had insulted her irrevocably, and that is why she
+trembled.
+
+Poor Cynthia! her troubles came thick and fast upon her in those days.
+When she reached home, there was the letter which Ephraim had left on the
+table addressed in the familiar, upright handwriting, and when Cynthia
+saw it, she caught her hand sharply at her breast, as if the pain there
+had stopped the beating of her heart.  Well it was for Bob's peace of
+mind that he could not see her as she read it, and before she had come to
+the end there were drops on the sheets where the purple ink had run.  How
+precious would have been those drops to him!  He would never give her up.
+No mandate or decree could separate them--nothing but death.  And he was
+happier now so he told her--than he had been for months: happy in the
+thought that he was going out into the world to win bread for her, as
+became a man.  Even if he had not her to strive for, he saw now that such
+was the only course for him.  He could not conform.
+
+It was a manly letter,--how manly Bob himself never knew.  But Cynthia
+knew, and she wept over it and even pressed it to her.  lips--for there
+was no one to see.  Yes, she loved him as she would not have believed it
+possible to love, and she sat through the afternoon reading his words and
+repeating them until it seemed that he were there by her side, speaking
+them.  They came, untrammelled and undefiled, from his heart into hers.
+
+And now that he had quarrelled with his father for her sake, and was bent
+with all the determination of his character upon making his own way in
+the world, what was she to do?  What was her duty?  Not one letter of the
+twoscore she had received (so she kept their count from day to day)--not
+one had she answered.  His faith had indeed been great.  But she must
+answer this: must write, too, on that subject of her dismissal, lest it
+should be wrongly told him.  He was rash in his anger, and fearless; this
+she knew, and loved him for such qualities as he had.
+
+She must stay in Brampton and do her work,--so much was clearly her duty,
+although she longed to flee from it.  And at last she sat down and wrote
+to him.  Some things are too sacred to be set forth on a printed page,
+and this letter is one of those things.  Try as she would, she could not
+find it in her heart at such a time to destroy his hope,--or her own.
+The hope which she would not acknowledge, and the love which she strove
+to conceal from him seeped up between the words of her letter like water
+through grains of sand.  Words, indeed, are but as grains of sand to
+conceal strong feelings, and as Cynthia read the letter over she felt
+that every line betrayed her, and knew that she could compose no lines
+which would not.
+
+She said nothing of the summons which she had received that morning, or
+of her answer; and her account of the matter of the dismissal and
+reinstatement was brief and dignified, and contained no mention of Mr.
+Worthington's name or agency.  It was her duty, too, to rebuke Bob for
+the quarrel with his father, to point out the folly of it, and the wrong,
+and to urge him as strongly as she could to retract, though she felt that
+all this was useless.  And then--then came the betrayal of hope.  She
+could not ask him never to see her again, but she did beseech him for her
+sake, and for the sake of that love which he had declared, not to attempt
+to see her: not for a year, she wrote, though the word looked to her like
+eternity.  Her reasons, aside from her own scruples, were so obvious,
+while she taught in Brampton, that she felt that he would consent to
+banishment--until the summer holidays in July, at least: and then she
+would be in Coniston,--and would have had time to decide upon future
+steps.  A reprieve was all she craved,--a reprieve in which to reflect,
+for she was in no condition to reflect now.  Of one thing she was sure,
+that it would not be right at this time to encourage him although she had
+a guilty feeling that the letter had given him encouragement in spite of
+all the prohibitions it contained.  "If, in the future years," thought
+Cynthia, as she sealed the envelope, "he persists in his determination,
+what then?"  You, Miss Lucretia, of all people in the world, have planted
+the seeds with your talk about Genesis!
+
+The letter was signed "One who will always remain your friend, Cynthia
+Wetherell."  And she posted it herself.
+
+When Ephraim came home to supper that evening, he brought the Brampton
+Clarion, just out, and in it was an account of Miss Lucretia Penniman's
+speech at the mass meeting, and of her visit, and of her career.  It was
+written in Mr. Page's best vein, and so laudatory was it that we shall
+have to spare Miss Lucretia in not repeating it here: yes, and omit the
+encomiums, too, on the teacher of the Brampton lower school.  Mr.
+Worthington was not mentioned, and for this, at least, Cynthia drew along
+breath of relief, though Ephraim was of the opinion that the first
+citizen should have been scored as he deserved, and held up to the
+contempt of his fellow-townsmen.  The dismissal of the teacher, indeed,
+was put down to a regrettable misconception on the part of "one of the
+prudential committee," who had confessed his mistake in "a manly and
+altogether praiseworthy speech."  The article was as near the truth,
+perhaps, as the Clarions may come on such matters--which is not very
+near.  Cynthia would have been better pleased if Mr. Page had spared his
+readers the recital of her qualities, and she did not in the least
+recognize the paragon whom Miss Lucretia had befriended and defended.
+She was thankful that Mr. Page did pot state that the celebrity had come
+up from Boston on her account.  Miss Penniman had been "actuated by a
+sudden desire to see once more the beauties of her old home, to look into
+the faces of the old friends who had followed her career with such
+pardonable pride."  The speech of the president of the literary club, you
+may be sure, was printed in full, for Mr. Ives himself had taken the
+trouble to write it out for the editor--by request, of course.
+
+Cynthia turned over the sheet, and read many interesting items: one
+concerning the beauty and fashion and intellect which attended the party
+at Mr. Gamaliel Ives's; in the Clovelly notes she saw that Miss Judy
+Hatch, of Coniston, was visiting relatives there; she learned the output
+of the Worthington Mills for the past week.  Cynthia was about to fold up
+the paper and send it to Miss Lucretia, whom she thought it would amuse,
+when her eyes were arrested by the sight of a familiar name.
+
+               "Jethro Bass come to life again.
+                   From the State Tribune."
+
+That was the heading.  "One of the greatest political surprises in many
+years was the arrival in the capital on Wednesday of Judge Bass, whom it
+was thought, had permanently retired from politics.  This, at least,
+seems to have been the confident belief of a faction in the state who
+have at heart the consolidation of certain lines of railroads.  Judge
+Bass was found by a Tribune reporter in the familiar Throne Room at the
+Pelican, but, as usual, he could not be induced to talk for publication.
+He was in conference throughout the afternoon with several well-known
+leaders from the North Country.  The return of Jethro Bass to activity
+seriously complicates the railroad situation, and many prominent
+politicians are freely predicting to-night that, in spite of the town-
+meeting returns, the proposed bill for consolidation will not go through.
+Judge Bass is a man of such remarkable personality that he has regained
+at a stroke much of the influence that he lost by the sudden and
+unaccountable retirement which electrified the state some months since.
+His reappearance, the news of which was the one topic in all political
+centres yesterday, is equally unaccountable.  It is hinted that some
+action on the part of Isaac D. Worthington has brought Jethro Bass to
+life.  They are known to be bitter enemies, and it is said that Jethro
+Bass has but one object in returning to the field--to crush the president
+of the Truro Railroad.  Another theory is that the railroads and
+interests opposed to the consolidation have induced Judge Bass to take
+charge of their fight for them.  All indications point to the fiercest
+struggle the state has ever seen in June, when the Legislature meets.
+The Tribune, whose sentiments are well known to be opposed to the
+iniquity of consolidation, extends a hearty welcome to the judge.  No
+state, we believe, can claim a party leader of a higher order of ability
+than Jethro Bass."
+
+Cynthia dropped the paper in her lap, and sat very still.  This, then,
+was what happened when Jethro had heard of her dismissal--he had left
+Coniston without writing her a word and passed through Brampton without
+seeing her.  He had gone back to that life which he had abandoned for her
+sake; the temptation had been too strong, the desire for vengeance too
+great.  He had not dared to see her.  And yet the love for her which had
+been strong enough to make him renounce the homage of men, and even incur
+their ridicule, had incited him to this very act of vengeance.
+
+What should she do now, indeed?  Had those peaceful and happy Saturdays
+and Sundays in Coniston passed away forever?  Should she follow him to
+the capital and appeal to him?  Ah no, she felt that were a useless pain
+to them both.  She believed, now, that he had gone away from her for all
+time, that the veil of limitless space was set between, them.  Silently
+she arose,--so silently that Ephraim, dozing by the fire, did not awake.
+She went into her own room and wept, and after many hours fell into a
+dreamless sleep of sheer exhaustion.
+
+The days passed, and the weeks; the snow ran from the brown fields, and
+melted at length even in the moist crotches under the hemlocks of the
+northern slopes; the robin and bluebird came, the hillsides were mottled
+with exquisite shades of green, and the scent of fruit blossom and balm
+of Gilead was in the air.  June came as a maiden and grew into womanhood.
+But Jethro Bass did not return to Coniston.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+The legends which surround the famous war which we are about to touch
+upon are as dim as those of Troy or Tuscany.  Decorous chronicles and
+biographies and monographs and eulogies exist, bound in leather and
+stamped in gold, each lauding its own hero: chronicles written in really
+beautiful language, and high-minded and noble, out of which the heroes
+come unstained.  Horatius holds the bridge, and not a dent in his armor;
+and swims the Tiber without getting wet or muddy.  Castor and Pollux
+fight in the front rank at Lake Regillus, in the midst of all that gore
+and slaughter, and emerge all white and pure at the end of the day--but
+they are gods.
+
+Out of the classic wars to which we have referred sprang the great Roman
+Republic and Empire, and legend runs into authentic and written history.
+Just so, parva componere magnis, out of the cloud-wrapped conflicts of
+the five railroads of which our own Gaul is composed, emerged one
+imperial railroad, authentically and legally written down on the statute
+books, for all men to see.  We cannot go behind that statute except to
+collect the legends and write homilies about the heroes who held the
+bridges.
+
+If we were not in mortal terror of the imperial power, and a little
+fearful, too, of tiring our readers, we would write out all the legends
+we have collected of this first fight for consolidation, and show the
+blood, too.
+
+In the statute books of a certain state may be found a number of laws
+setting forth the various things that a railroad or railroads may do, and
+on the margin of these pages is invariably printed a date, that being the
+particular year in which these laws were passed.  By a singular
+coincidence it is the very year at which we have now arrived in our
+story.  We do not intend to give a map of the state, or discuss the
+merits or demerits of the consolidation of the Central and the
+Northwestern and the Truro railroads.  Such discussions are not the
+province of a novelist, and may all be found in the files of the Tribune
+at the State Library.  There were, likewise, decisions without number
+handed down by the various courts before and after that celebrated
+session,--opinions on the validity of leases, on the extension of
+railroads, on the rights of individual stockholders--all dry reading
+enough.
+
+At the risk of being picked to pieces by the corporation lawyers who may
+read these pages, we shall attempt to state the situation and with all
+modesty and impartiality--for we, at least, hold no brief.  When Mr.
+Isaac D. Worthington obtained that extension of the Truro Railroad (which
+we have read about from the somewhat verdant point of view of William
+Wetherell), that railroad then formed a connection with another road
+which ran northward from Harwich through another state, and with which we
+have nothing to do.  Having previously purchased a line to the southward
+from the capital, Mr. Worthington's railroad was in a position to compete
+with Mr. Duncan's (the "Central") for Canadian traffic, and also to cut
+into the profits of the "Northwestern," Mr. Lovejoy's road.  In brief,
+the Truro Railroad found itself very advantageously placed, as Mr.
+Worthington and Mr. Flint had foreseen.  There followed a period of
+bickering and recrimination, of attempts of the other two railroads to
+secure representation in the Truro directorate, of suits and injunctions
+and appeals to the Legislature and I know not what else--in all of which
+affairs Mr. Bijah Bixby and other gentlemen we could name found both
+pleasure and remuneration.
+
+Oh, that those halcyon days of the little wars would come again, when a
+captain could ride out almost any time at the held of his band of
+mercenaries and see honest fighting and divide honest spoils!  There was
+much knocking about of men and horses, but very little bloodshed, so we
+are told.  Mr. Bixby will sit on the sunny side of his barns in Clovelly
+and tell you stories of that golden period with tears in his eyes, when
+he went to conventions with a pocketful of proxies from the river towns,
+and controlled in the greatest legislative year of all a "block" which
+included the President of the Senate, for which he got the fabulous sum
+of ----.  He will tell you, but I won't.  Mr. Bixby's occupation is gone
+now.  We have changed all that, and we are ruled from imperial Rome.  If
+you don't do right, they cut off your (political) head, and it is of no
+use to run away, because there is no one to run to.
+
+It was Isaac D. Worthington--or shall we say Mr. Flint?--who was
+responsible for this pernicious change for the worse, who conceived the
+notion of leasing for the Truro the Central and the Northwestern,--thus
+making one railroad out of the three.  If such a gigantic undertaking
+could be got through, Mr. Worthington very rightly deemed that the other
+railroads of the state would eventually fall like ripe fruit into their
+caps--owning the ground under the tree, as they would.  A movement, which
+we need not go unto, was first made upon the courts, and for a while
+adverse decisions came down like summer rain.  A genius by the name of
+Jethro Bass had for many years presided (in the room of the governor and
+council at the State House) at the political birth of justices of the
+Supreme Court.  None of them actually wore livery, but we have seen one
+of them--along time ago--in a horse blanket.  None of them were favorable
+to the plans of Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan.
+
+We have listened to the firing on the skirmish lines for a long time, and
+now the real battle is at hand.  It is June, and the Legislature is
+meeting, and Bijah Bixby has come down to the capital at the head of his
+regiment of mercenaries, of which Mr. Sutton is the honorary colonel; the
+clans are here from the north, well quartered and well fed; the Throne
+Room, within the sacred precincts of which we have been before, is
+occupied.  But there is another headquarters now, too, in the Pelican
+House--a Railroad Room; larger than the Throne Room, with a bath-room
+leading out of it.  Another old friend of ours, Judge Abner Parkinson of
+Harwich, he who gave the sardonic laugh when Sam Price applied for the
+post of road agent, may often be seen in that Railroad Room from now on.
+The fact is that the judge is about to become famous far beyond the
+confines of Harwich; for he, and none other, is the author of the
+Consolidation Bill itself.
+
+Mr. Flint is the generalissimo of the allied railroads, and sits in his
+headquarters early and late, going over the details of the campaign with
+his lieutenants; scanning the clauses of the bill with Judge Parkinson
+for the last time, and giving orders to the captains of mercenaries as to
+the disposition of their forces; writing out passes for the deserving and
+the true.  For these latter, also, and for the wavering there is a claw-
+hammer on the marble-topped mantel wielded by Mr. Bijah Bixby, pro tem
+chief of staff--or of the hammer, for he is self-appointed and very
+useful.  He opens the mysterious packing cases which come up to the
+Railroad Room thrice a week, and there is water to be had in the bath-
+room--and glasses.  Mr. Bixby also finds time to do some of the scouting
+about the rotunda and lobbies, for which he is justly celebrated, and to
+drill his regiment every day.  The Honorable Heth Sutton, M.C.,--who held
+the bridge in the Woodchuck Session,--is there also, sitting in a corner,
+swelled with importance, smoking big Florizel cigars which come from--
+somewhere.  There are, indeed, many great and battle-scarred veterans who
+congregate in that room--too numerous and great to mention; and
+saunterers in the Capitol Park opposite know when a council of war is
+being held by the volumes of smoke which pour out of the window, just as
+the Romans are made cognizant by the smoking of a chimney of when another
+notable event takes place.
+
+Who, then, are left to frequent the Throne Room?  Is that ancient seat of
+power deserted, and does Jethro Bass sit there alone behind the curtains,
+in his bitterness, thinking of other bright June days that are gone?
+
+Of all those who had been amazed when Jethro Bass suddenly emerged from
+his retirement and appeared in the capital some months before, none were
+more thunderstruck than certain gentlemen who had been to Coniston
+repeatedly, but in vain, to urge him to make this very fight.  The most
+important of these had been Mr. Balch, president of the "Down East" Road,
+and the representatives of two railroads of another state.  They had at
+last offered Jethro fabulous sums to take charge of their armies in the
+field--sums, at least, that would seem fabulous to many people, and had
+seemed so to them.  When they heard that the lion had roused and shaken
+himself and had unaccountably come forth of his own accord, they hastened
+to the state capital to renew their offers.  Another shock, but of a
+different kind, was in store for them.  Mr. Balch had not actually driven
+the pack-mules, laden with treasure, to the door of the Pelican House,
+where Jethro might see them from his window; but he requested a private
+audience, and it was probably accidental that the end of his personal
+check-book protruded a little from his pocket.  He was a big, coarse-
+grained man, Mr. Balch, who had once been a brakeman, and had risen by
+what is known as horse sense to the presidency of his road.  There was a
+wonderful sunset beyond the Capitol, but Mr. Balch did not talk about the
+sunset, although Jethro was watching it from behind the curtains.
+
+"If you are willing to undertake this fight against consolidation," said
+Mr. Balch, "we are ready to talk business with you."
+
+"D-don't know what you're going to, do," answered Jethro; "I'm going to
+prevent consolidation, if I can."
+
+"All right," said Balch, smiling.  He regarded this reply as one of
+Jethro's delicate euphemisms.  "We're prepared to give that same little
+retainer."
+
+Jethro did not look up.  Mr. Balch went to the table and seized a pen and
+filled out a check for an amount that shall be nameless.
+
+"I have made it payable to bearer, as usual," he said, and he handed it
+to Jethro.
+
+Jethro took it, and absently tore it into little pieces, and threw the
+pieces on the floor.  Mr. Balch watched him in consternation.  He began
+to think the report that Jethro had reached his second childhood was
+true.
+
+"What in Halifax are you doing, Bass?" he cried.
+
+"W-want to stop this consolidation, don't you--want' to stop it?"
+
+"Certainly I do."
+
+"G-goin' to do all you can to stop it hain't you?"
+
+"Certainly I am."
+
+"I-I'll help you," said Jethro.
+
+"Help us!" exclaimed Balch.  "Great Scott, we want you to take charge of
+it."
+
+"I-I'll do all I can, but I won't guarantee it--w-won't guarantee it,"
+said Jethro.
+
+"We don't ask you to guarantee it.  If you'll do all you can, that's
+enough.  You won't take a retainer?"
+
+"W-won't take anything," said Jethro.
+
+"You mean to say you don't want anything for your for your time and your
+services if the bill is defeated?"
+
+"T-that's about it, Ed.  Little p-private matter with both of us.  You
+don't want consolidation, and I don't.  I hain't offered to give you a
+retainer--have I?"
+
+"No," said the astounded Mr. Balch.  He scratched his head and fingered
+the leaves of his check-book.  The captains over the tens and the
+captains over the hundreds would want little retainers--and who was to
+pay these?  "How about the boys?" asked Mr. Balch.
+
+"S-still got the same office in the depot--hain't you, Ed, s-same
+office?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"G-guess the boys hev b'en there before," said Jethro.
+
+Mr. Balch went away, meditating upon those sayings, and took the train
+for Boston.  If he had waked up of a fine morning to find himself at the
+head of some benevolent and charitable organization, instead of the "Down
+East" Railroad, he could not have been more astonished than he had been
+at the unaccountable change of heart of Jethro Bass.  He did not know
+what to make of it, and told his colleagues so; and at first they feared
+one of two things,--treachery or lunacy.  But a little later a rumor
+reached Mr. Balch's ears that Jethro's hatred of Isaac D. Worthington was
+at the bottom of his reappearance in public life, although Jethro himself
+never mentioned Mr. Worthington's name.  Jethro sat in the Throne Room,
+consulting, directing day after day, and when the Legislature assembled,
+"the boys" began to call at Mr. Balch's office.  But Mr. Balch never
+again broached the subject of money to Jethro Bass.
+
+We have to sing the song of sixpence for the last time in these pages;
+and as it is an old song now, there will be no encores.  If you can buy
+one member of the lower house for ten dollars, how many members can you
+buy for fifty?  It was no such problem in primary arithmetic that Mr.
+Balch and his associates had to solve--theirs was in higher mathematics,
+in permutations and combinations, and in least squares.  No wonder the
+old campaigners speak with tears in their eyes of the days of that ever
+memorable summer.  There were spoils to be picked up in the very streets
+richer than the sack of the thirty cities; and as the session wore on it
+is affirmed by men still living that money rained down in the Capitol
+Park and elsewhere like manna from the skies, if you were one of a chosen
+band.  If you were, all you had to do was to look in your vest pockets
+when you took your clothes off in the evening and extract enough legal
+tender to pay your bill at the Pelican for a week.  Mr. Lovejoy having
+been overheard one day to make a remark concerning the diet of hogs, the
+next morning certain visitors to the capital were horrified to discover
+trails of corn leading from the Pelican House to their doorways.  Men who
+had never seen a receiving teller opened bank accounts.  No, it was not a
+problem in simple arithmetic, and Mr. Balch and Mr. Flint, and even Mr.
+Duncan and Mr. Worthington, covered whole sheets with figures during the
+stifling days in July.  Some men are so valuable that they can be bought
+twice, or even three times, and they make figuring complicated.
+
+Jethro Bass did no calculating.  He sat behind the curtains, and he must
+have kept the figures in his head.
+
+The battle had closed in earnest, and for twelve long, sultry weeks it
+raged with unabated fierceness.  Consolidation had a terror for the rural
+mind, and the state Tribune skilfully played its stream upon the
+constituents of those gentlemen who stood tamely at the Worthington
+hitching-posts, and the constituents flocked to the capital; that able
+newspaper, too, found space to return, with interest, the attacks of Mr.
+Worthington's organ, the Newcastle Guardian.  These amenities are much
+too personal to reproduce here, now that the smoke of battle has rolled
+away.  An epic could be written upon the conflict, if there were space:
+Canto One, the first position carried triumphantly, though at some
+expense, by the Worthington forces, who elect the Speaker.  That had been
+a crucial time before the town meetings, when Jethro abdicated.  The
+Worthington Speaker goes ahead with his committees, and it is needless to
+say that Mr. Chauncey Weed is not made Chairman of the Committee on
+Corporations.  As an offset to this, the Jethro forces gain on the
+extreme right, where the Honorable Peleg Hartington is made President of
+the Senate, etc.
+
+For twelve hot weeks, with a public spirit which is worthy of the highest
+praise, the Committee sit in their shirt sleeves all day long and listen
+to arguments for and against consolidation; and ask learned questions
+that startle rural witnesses; and smoke big Florizel cigars (a majority
+of them).  Judge Abner Parkinson defends his bill, quoting from the
+Constitution and the Declaration of Independence and the Bible; a
+celebrated lawyer from the capital riddles it, using the same
+authorities, and citing the Federalist and the Golden Rule in addition.
+The Committee sit open-minded, listening with laudable impartiality; it
+does not become them to arrive at a hasty decision on a question of such
+magnitude.  In the meantime the House passes an important bill dealing
+with the bounty on hedgehogs, and there are several card games going on
+in the cellar, where it is cool.
+
+The governor of the state is a free lance, and may be seen any afternoon
+walking through the park, consorting with no one.  He may be recognized
+even at a distance by his portly figure, his silk hat, and his dignified
+mien.  Yes, it is an old and valued friend, the Honorable Alva Hopkins,
+patron of the drama, and sometimes he has a beautiful young woman (still
+unattached) by his side.  He lives in a suite of rooms at the Pelican.
+It is a well-known fact (among Mr. Worthington's supporters) that the
+Honorable Alva promised in January, when Mr. Bass retired, to sign the
+Consolidation Bill, and that he suddenly became open-minded in March, and
+has remained open-minded ever since, listening gravely to arguments, and
+giving much study to the subject.  He is an executive now, although it is
+the last year of his term, and of course he is never seen either in the
+Throne Room or the Railroad Room.  And besides, he may become a senator.
+
+August has come, and the forces are spent and panting, and neither side
+dares to risk the final charge.  The reputation of Jethro Bass is at
+stake.  Should he risk and lose, he must go back to Coniston a beaten
+man, subject to the contempt of his neighbors and his state.  People do
+not know that he has nothing now to go back to, and that he cares nothing
+for contempt.  As he sits in his window day after day he has only one
+thought and one wish,--to ruin Isaac D. Worthington.  And he will do it
+if he can.  Those who know--and among them is Mr. Balch himself--say that
+Jethro has never conducted a more masterly campaign than this, and that
+all the others have been mere childish trials of strength compared to it.
+So he sits there through those twelve weeks while the session slips by,
+while his opponents grumble, and while even his supporters, eager for the
+charge, complain.  The truth is that in all the years of his activity be
+has never had such an antagonist as Mr. Flint.  Victory hangs in the
+balance, and a false move will throw it to either side.
+
+Victory hangs now, to be explicit, upon two factors.  The first and most
+immediate of these is a certain canny captain of many wars whose regiment
+is still at the disposal of either army--for  a price, a regiment which
+has hitherto remained strictly neutral.  And what a regiment it is!  A
+block of river towns and a senator, and not a casualty since they marched
+boldly into camp twelve weeks ago.  Mr. Batch is getting very much
+worried about this regiment, and beginning to doubt Jethro's judgment.
+
+"I tell you, Bass," he said one evening, "if you allow him to run around
+loose much longer, we're lost, that's all there is to it!" (Mr. Batch
+referred to the captain in question.) "They'll buy up his block at his
+figure--see, if they don't.  They're getting desperate.  Don't you think
+I'd better bid him in?"
+
+"B-bid him in if you've a mind to; Ed."
+
+"Look here, Jethro," said Mr. Batch, savagely biting off the end of a
+cigar, "I'm beginning to think you don't care a continental about this
+business.  Which side are you on, anyway?"  The heat and the length and
+the uncertainty of the struggle were telling on the nerves of the
+railroad president.  "You sit there from morning till night and won't say
+anything; and now, when there's only one block out, you won't give the
+word to buy it."
+
+"N-never told you to buy anything, did I--Ed?"
+
+"No," answered Mr. Batch, "you haven't.  I don't know what the devil's
+got into you."
+
+"D-done all the payin' without consultin' me, hain't you, Ed?"
+
+"Yes; I have.  What are you driving at?"
+
+"D-done it if I hadn't b'en here, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Yes, and more too," said Mr. Batch.
+
+"W-wouldn't make much difference to you if I wasn't here--would it?"
+
+"Great Scott, Jethro, what do you mean?" cried the railroad president, in
+genuine alarm; "you're not going to pull out, are you?"
+
+"W-wouldn't make much odds if I did--would it, Ed?"
+
+"The devil it wouldn't!" exclaimed Mr. Balch.  "If you pulled out, we'd
+lose the North Country, and Peleg, and Gosport, and nobody can tell which
+way Alva Hopkins will swing.  I guess you know what he'll do--you're so
+d--d secretive I can't tell whether you do or not.  If you pulled out,
+they'd have their bill on Friday."
+
+"H-hain't under any obligations to you, Ed--am I?"
+
+"No," said Mr. Batch, "but I don't see why you keep harping on that."
+
+"J-dust wanted to have it clear," said Jethro, and relapsed into silence.
+
+There was a fireproof carpet on the Throne Room, and Mr. Batch flung down
+his cigar and stamped on it and went out.  No wonder he could not
+understand Jethro's sudden scruples about money and obligations--about
+railroad money, that is.  Jethro was spending some of his own, but not in
+the capital, and in a manner which was most effective.  In short, at the
+very moment when Mr. Batch stamped on his cigar, Jethro had the victory
+in his hands--only he did not choose to say so.  He had had a mysterious
+telegram that day from Harwich, signed by Chauncey Weed, and Mr. Weed
+himself appeared at the door of Number 7, fresh from his travels, shortly
+after Mr. Batch had gone out of it.  Mr. Weed closed the door gently, and
+locked it, and sat down in a rocking chair close to Jethro and put his
+hand over his mouth.  We cannot hear what Mr. Weed is saying.  All is
+mystery here, and in order to preserve that mystery we shall delay for a
+little the few words which will explain Mr. Weed's successful mission.
+
+Mr. Batch, angry and bewildered, descended into the rotunda, where he
+shortly heard two astounding pieces of news.  The first was that the
+Honorable Heth Sutton had abandoned the Florizel cigars and had gone home
+to Clovelly.  The second; that Mr. Bijah Bixby had resigned the claw-
+hammer and had ceased to open the packing cases in the Railroad Room.
+Consternation reigned in that room, so it was said (and this was true).
+Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan and Mr. Lovejoy were closeted there with
+Mr. Flint, and the door was locked and the transom shut, and smoke was
+coming out of the windows.
+
+Yes, Mr. Bijah Bixby is the canny captain of whom Mr. Balch spoke: he it
+is who owns that block of river towns, intact, and the one senator.
+Impossible!  We have seen him opening the packing cases, we have seen him
+working for the Worthington faction for the last two years.  Mr. Bixby
+was very willing to open boxes, and to make himself useful and agreeable;
+but it must be remembered that a good captain of mercenaries owes a
+sacred duty to his followers.  At first Mr. Flint had thought he could
+count on Mr. Bixby; after a while he made several unsuccessful attempts
+to talk business with him; a particularly difficult thing to do, even for
+Mr. Flint, when Mr. Bixby did not wish to talk business.  Mr. Balch had
+found it quite as difficult to entice Mr. Bixby away from the boxes and
+the Railroad Room.  The weeks drifted on, until twelve went by, and then
+Mr. Bixby found himself, with his block of river towns and one senator,
+in the incomparable position of being the arbiter of the fate of the
+Consolidation Bill in the House and Senate.  No wonder Mr. Balch wanted
+to buy the services of that famous regiment at any price!
+
+But Mr. Bixby, for once in his life, had waited too long.
+
+When Mr. Balch, rejoicing, but not a little indignant at not having been
+taken into confidence, ascended to the Throne Room after supper to
+question Jethro concerning the meaning of the things he had heard, he
+found Senator Peleg Hartington seated mournfully on the bed, talking at
+intervals, and Jethro listening.
+
+"Come up and eat out of my hand," said the senator.
+
+"Who?" demanded Mr. Balch.
+
+"Bije," answered the senator.
+
+"Great Scott, do you mean to say you've got Bixby?" exclaimed the
+railroad president.  He felt as if he would like to shake the senator,
+who was so deliberate and mournful in his answers.  "What did you pay
+him?"
+
+Mr. Hartington appeared shocked by the question.
+
+"Guess Heth Sutton will settle with him," he said.
+
+"Heth Sutton!  Why the--why should Heth pay him?"
+
+"Guess Heth'd like to make him a little present, under the circumstances.
+I was goin' through the barber shop," Mr. Hartington continued, speaking
+to Jethro and ignoring the railroad president, "and I heard somebody
+whisperin' my name.  Sound came out of that little shampoo closet; went
+in there and found Bije.  'Peleg,' says he, right into my ear, 'tell
+Jethro it's all right--you understand.  We want Heth to go back--break
+his heart if he didn't--you understand.  If I'd knowed last winter Jethro
+meant business, I wouldn't hev' helped Gus Flint out.  Tell Jethro he can
+have 'em--you know what I mean.'  Bije waited a little mite too long,"
+said the senator, who had given a very fair imitation of Mr. Bixby's
+nasal voice and manner.
+
+"Well, I'm d--d!" ejaculated Mr. Balch, staring at Jethro.  "How did you
+work it?"
+
+"Sent Chauncey through the deestrict," said Mr. Hartington.
+
+Mr. Chauncey Weed had, in truth, gone through a part of the congressional
+district of the Honorable Heth Sutton with a little leather bag.  Mr.
+Weed had been able to do some of his work (with the little leather bag)
+in the capital itself.  In this way Mr. Bixby's regiment, Sutton was the
+honorary colonel, had been attacked in the rear and routed.  Here was to
+be a congressional convention that autumn, and a large part of Mr.
+Sutton's district lay in the North Country, which, as we have seen, was
+loyal to Jethro to the back bone.  The district, too, was largely rural,
+and therefore anti-consolidation, and the inability of the Worthington
+forces to get their bill through had made it apparent that Jethro Bass
+was as powerful as ever.  Under these circumstances it had not been very
+difficult for a gentleman of Mr. Chauncey Weed's powers of persuasion to
+induce various lieutenants in the district to agree to send delegates to
+the coming convention who would be conscientiously opposed to Mr. Sutton's
+renomination: hence the departure from the capital of Mr. Sutton; hence
+the generous offer of Mr. Bixby to put his regiment at the disposal of
+Mr. Bass--free of charge.
+
+The second factor on which victory hung (we can use the past tense now)
+was none other than his Excellency Alva Hopkins, governor of the state.
+The bill would never get to his Excellency now--so people said; would
+never get beyond that committee who had listened so patiently to the
+twelve weeks of argument.  These were only rumors, after all, for the
+rotunda never knows positively what goes on in high circles; but the
+rotunda does figuring, too, when at length the problem is reduced to a
+simple equation, with Bijah Bixby as x.  If it were true that Bijah had
+gone over to Jethro Bass, the Consolidation Bill was dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+When Jethro Bass walked out of the hotel that evening men looked at him,
+and made way for him, but none spoke to him.  There was something in his
+face that forbade speech.  He was a great man once more--a greater man
+than ever; and he had, if the persistent rumors were true, accomplished
+an almost incomprehensible feat, even for Jethro Bass.  There was another
+reason, too, why they stared at him.  In all those twelve weeks of that
+most trying of all sessions he had not once gone into the street, and he
+had been less than ever common in the eyes of men.  Twice a day he had
+descended to the dining room for a simple meal--that was all; and fewer
+had gained entrance to Room Number 7 this session than ever before.
+
+There is a river that flows by the capital, a wide and gentle river
+bordered by green meadows and fringed with willows; higher up, if you go
+far enough, a forest comes down to the water on the western side.  Jethro
+walked through the hooded bridge, and up the eastern bank until he could
+see the forest like a black band between the orange sky and the orange
+river, and there he sat down upon a fallen log on the edge of the bank.
+But Jethro was thinking of another scene,--of a granite-ribbed pasture on
+Coniston Mountain that swings in limitless space, from either end of
+which a man may step off into eternity.  William Wetherell, in one of his
+letters, had described that place as the Threshold of the Nameless
+Worlds, and so it had seemed to Jethro in the years of his desolation.
+He was thinking of it now, even as it had been in his mind that winter's
+evening when Cynthia had come to Coniston and had surprised him with that
+look of terrible loneliness on his face.
+
+Yes, and he was thinking of Cynthia.  When, indeed, had he not been
+thinking of her?  How many tunes had he rehearsed the events in the
+tannery house--for they were the events of his life now.  The triumphs
+over his opponents and enemies fell away, and the pride of power.  Such
+had not been his achievements.  She had loved him, and no man had reached
+a higher pinnacle than that.
+
+Why he had forfeited that love for vengeance, he could not tell.  The
+embers of a man's passions will suddenly burst into flame, and he will
+fiddle madly while the fire burns his soul.  He had avenged her as well
+as himself; but had he avenged her, now that he held Isaac Worthington in
+his power?  By crushing him, had he not added to her trouble and her
+sorrow?  She had confessed that she loved Isaac Worthington's son, and
+was not he (Jethro) widening the breach between Cynthia and the son by
+crushing the father?  Jethro had not thought of this.  But he had thought
+of her, night and day, as he had sat in his room directing the battle.
+Not a day had passed that he had not looked for a letter, hoping against
+hope.  If she had written to him once, if she had come to him once, would
+he have desisted?  He could not say--the fires of hatred had burned so
+fiercely, and still burned so fiercely, that he clenched his fists when
+it came over him that Isaac Worthington was at last in his power.
+
+A white line above the forest was all that remained of the sunset when he
+rose up and took from his coat a silver locket and opened it and held it
+to the fading light.  Presently he closed it again, and walked slowly
+along the river bank toward the little city twinkling on its hill.  He
+crossed the hooded bridge and climbed the slope, stopping for a moment at
+a little stationery shop; he passed through the groups which were still
+loudly discussing this thing he had done, and gained his room and locked
+the door.  Men came to it and knocked and got no answer.  The room was in
+darkness, and the night breeze stirred among the trees in the park and
+blew in at the window.
+
+At last Jethro got up and lighted the gas and paused at the centre table.
+He was to violate more than one principle of his life that night, though
+not without a struggle; and he sat for a long while looking at the blank
+paper before him.  Then he wrote, and sealed the letter--which contained
+three lines--and pulled the bell cord.  The call was answered by a
+messenger who had been far many years in the service of the Pelican
+House, and who knew many secrets of the gods.  The man actually grew pale
+when he saw the address on the envelope which was put in his hand and
+read the denomination of the crisp note under it that was the price of
+silence.
+
+"F-find the gentleman and give it to him yourself.  Er--John?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Bass?"
+
+"If you don't find him, bring it--back."
+
+When the man had gone, Jethro turned down the gas and went again to his
+chair by the window.  For a while voices came up to him from the street,
+but at length the groups dispersed, one by one; and a distant clock
+boomed out eleven solemn strokes.  Twice the clock struck again, at the
+half-hour and midnight, and the noises in the house--the banging of doors
+and the jangling of keys and the hurrying of feet in the corridors--were
+hushed.  Jethro took no thought of these or of time, and sat gazing at
+the stars in the depths of the sky above the capital dome until a shadow
+emerged from the black mass of the trees opposite and crossed the street.
+In a few minutes there were footsteps in the corridor,--stealthy
+footsteps--and a knock on the door.  Jethro got up and opened it, and
+closed it again and locked it.  Then he turned up the gas.
+
+"S-sit down," he said, and nodded his head toward the chair by the table.
+
+Isaac Worthington laid his silk hat on the table, and sat down.  He
+looked very haggard and worn in that light, very unlike the first citizen
+who had entered Brampton in triumph on his return from the West not many
+months before.  The long strain of a long fight, in which he had risked
+much for which he had labored a life to gain, had told on him, and there
+were crow's-feet at the corners of, his eyes, and dark circles under
+them.  Isaac Worthington had never lost before, and to destroy the fruits
+of such a man's ambition is to destroy the man.  He was not as young as
+he had once been.  But now, in the very hour of defeat, hope had
+rekindled the fire in the eyes and brought back the peculiar, tight-
+lipped, mocking smile to the mouth.  An hour ago, when he had been pacing
+Alexander Duncan's library, the eyes and the mouth had been different.
+
+Long habit asserts itself at the strangest moments.  Jethro Bass took his
+seat by the window, and remained silent.  The clock tolled the half-hour
+after midnight.
+
+"You wanted to see me," said Mr. Worthington, finally.
+
+Jethro nodded, almost imperceptibly.
+
+"I suppose," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I suppose you are ready to
+sell out."  He found it a little difficult to control his voice.
+
+"Yes," answered Jethro, "r-ready to sell out."
+
+Mr. Worthington was somewhat taken aback by this simple admission.  He
+glanced at Jethro sitting motionless by the window, and in his heart he
+feared him: he had come into that room when the gas was low, afraid.
+Although he would not confess it to himself, he had been in fear of
+Jethro Bass all his life, and his fear had been greater than ever since
+the March day when Jethro had left Coniston.  And could he have known,
+now, the fires of hatred burning in Jethro's breast, Isaac Worthington
+would have been in terror indeed.
+
+"What have you got to sell?" he demanded sharply.
+
+"G-guess you know, or you wouldn't have come here."
+
+"What proof have I that you have it to sell?"
+
+Jethro looked at him for an instant.
+
+"M-my word," he said.
+
+Isaac Worthington was silent for a while: he was striving to calm
+himself, for an indefinable something had shaken him.  The strange
+stillness of the hour and the stranger atmosphere which seemed to
+surround this transaction filled him with a nameless dread.  The man in
+the window had been his lifelong enemy: more than this, Jethro Bass, was
+not like ordinary men--his ways were enshrouded in mystery, and when he
+struck, he struck hard.  There grew upon Isaac Worthington a sense that
+this midnight hour was in some way to be the culmination of the long
+years of hatred between them.
+
+He believed Jethro: he would have believed him even if Mr. Flint had not
+informed him that afternoon that he was beaten, and bitterly he wished he
+had taken Mr. Flint's advice many months before.  Denunciation sprang to
+his lips which he dared not utter.  He was beaten, and he must pay--the
+pound of flesh.  Isaac Worthington almost thought it would be a pound of
+flesh.
+
+"How much do you want?" he said.
+
+Again Jethro looked at him.
+
+"B-biggest price you can pay," he answered.
+
+"You must have made up your mind what you want.  You've had time enough."
+
+"H-have made up my mind," said Jethro.
+
+"Make your demand," said Mr. Worthington, "and I'll give you my answer."
+
+"B-biggest price you can pay," said Jethro, again.
+
+Mr. Worthington's nerves could stand it no longer.
+
+"Look here," he cried, rising in his chair, "if you've brought me here to
+trifle with me, you've made a mistake.  It's your business to get control
+of things that belong to other people, and sell them out.  I am here to
+buy.  Nothing but necessity brings me here, and nothing but necessity
+will keep me here a moment longer than I have to stay to finish this
+abominable affair.  I am ready to pay you twenty thousand dollars the day
+that bill becomes a law."
+
+This time Jethro did not look at him.
+
+"P-pay me now," he said.
+
+"I will pay you the day the bill becomes a law.  Then I shall know where
+I stand."
+
+Jethro did not answer this ultimatum in any manner, but remained
+perfectly still looking out of the window.  Mr. Worthington glanced at
+him, twice, and got his fingers on the brim of his hat, but he did not
+pick it up.  He stood so for a while, knowing full well that if he went
+out of that room his chance was gone. Consolidation might come in other
+years, but he, Isaac Worthington, would not be a factor in it.
+
+"You don't want a check, do you?" he said at last.
+
+"No--d-don't want a check."
+
+"What in God's name do you want?  I haven't got twenty thousand dollars
+in currency in my pocket."
+
+"Sit down, Isaac Worthington," said Jethro.
+
+Mr. Worthington sat down--out of sheer astonishment, perhaps.
+
+"W-want the consolidation--don't you?  Want it bad--don't you?"
+
+Mr. Worthington did, not answer.  Jethro stood over him now, looking down
+at him from the other side of the narrow table.
+
+"Know Cynthy Wetherell?" he said.
+
+Then Isaac Worthington understood that his premonitions had been real.
+The pound of flesh was to be demanded, but strangely enough, he did not
+yet comprehend the nature of it.
+
+"I know that there is such a person," he answered, for his pride would
+not permit him to say more.
+
+"W-what do you know about her?"
+
+Isaac Worthington was bitterly angry--the more so because he was
+helpless, and could not question Jethro's right to ask.  What did he know
+about her?  Nothing, except that she had intrigued to marry his son.
+Bob's letter had described her, to be sure, but he could not be expected
+to believe that: and he had not heard Miss Lucretia Penniman's speech.
+And yet he could not tell Jethro that he knew nothing about her, for he
+was shrewd enough to perceive the drift of the next question.
+
+"Kn-know anything against her?" said Jethro.
+
+Mr. Worthington leaned back in his chair.
+
+"I can't see what Miss Wetherell has to do with the present occasion," he
+replied.
+
+"H-had her dismissed by the prudential committee had her dismissed--
+didn't you?"
+
+"They chose to act as they saw fit."
+
+"T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her--didn't you?"
+
+That was a matter of common knowledge in Brampton, having leaked out
+through Jonathan Hill.
+
+"I must decline to discuss this," said Mr. Worthington.
+
+"W-wouldn't if I was you."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"What I say.  T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, I did."  Isaac Worthington had lost in self-esteem by not saying so
+before.
+
+"Why?  Wahn't she honest?  Wahn't she capable?  Wahn't she a lady?"
+
+"I can't say that I know anything against Miss Wetherell's character, if
+that's what you mean."
+
+"F-fit to teach--wahn't she--fit to teach?"
+
+"I believe she has since qualified before Mr. Errol."
+
+"Fit to teach--wahn't fit to marry your son--was she?"
+
+Isaac Worthington clutched the table and started from his chair.  He grew
+white to his lips with anger, and yet he knew that he must control
+himself.
+
+"Mr. Bass," he said, "you have something to sell, and I have something to
+buy--if the price is not ruinous.  Let us confine ourselves to that.  My
+affairs and my son's affairs are neither here nor there.  I ask you
+again, how much do you want for this Consolidation Bill?"
+
+"N-no money will buy it."
+
+"What!"
+
+"C-consent to this marriage, c-consent to this marriage."  There was yet
+room for Isaac Worthington to be amazed, and for a while he stared up at
+Jethro, speechless.
+
+"Is that your price?" he asked at last.
+
+"Th-that's my price," said Jethro.
+
+Isaac Worthington got up and went to the window and stood looking out
+above the black mass of trees at the dome outlined against the star-
+flecked sky.  At first his anger choked him, and he could not think; he
+had just enough reason left not to walk out of the door.  But presently
+habit asserted itself in him, too, and he began to reflect and calculate
+in spite of his anger.  It is strange that memory plays so small a part
+in such a man.  Before he allowed his mind to dwell on the fearful price,
+he thought of his ambitions gratified; and yet he did not think then of
+the woman to whom he had once confided those ambitions--the woman who was
+the girl's mother.  Perhaps Jethro was thinking of her.
+
+It may have been--I know not--that Isaac Worthington wondered at this
+revelation of the character of Jethro Bass, for it was a revelation.  For
+this girl's sake Jethro was willing to forego his revenge, was willing at
+the end of his days to allow the world to believe that he had sold out to
+his enemy, or that he had been defeated by him.
+
+But when he thought of the marriage, Isaac Worthington ground his teeth.
+A certain sentiment which we may call pride was so strong in him that he
+felt ready to make almost any sacrifice to prevent it.  To hinder it he
+had quarrelled with his son, and driven him away, and threatened
+disinheritance.  The price was indeed heavy--the heaviest he could pay.
+But the alternative--was not that heavier?  To relinquish his dream of
+power, to sink for a while into a crippled state; for he had spent large
+sums, and one of those periodical depressions had come in the business of
+the mills, and those Western investments were not looking so bright now.
+
+So, with his hands opening and closing in front of him, Isaac Worthington
+fought out his battle.  A terrible war, that, between ambition and pride
+--a war to the knife.  The issue may yet have been undecided when he
+turned round to Jethro with a sneer which he could not resist.
+
+"Why doesn't she marry him without my consent?"
+
+In a moment Mr. Worthington knew he had gone too far.  A certain kind of
+an eye is an incomparable weapon, and armed men have been cowed by those
+who possess it, though otherwise defenceless.  Jethro Bass had that kind
+of an eye.
+
+"G-guess you wouldn't understand if I was to tell you," he said.
+
+Mr. Worthington walked to the window again, perhaps to compose himself,
+and then came back again.
+
+"Your proposition is," he said at length, "that if I give my consent to
+this marriage, we are to have Bixby and the governor, and the
+Consolidation Bill will become a law.  Is that it?"
+
+"Th-that's it," said Jethro, taking his accustomed seat.
+
+"And this consent is to be given when the bill becomes a law?"
+
+"Given now.  T-to-night."
+
+Mr. Worthington took another turn as far as the door, and suddenly came
+and stood before Jethro.
+
+"Well, I consent."
+
+Jethro nodded toward the table.
+
+"Er--pen and paper there," he said.
+
+"What do you want me to do?" demanded Mr. Worthington.
+
+"W-write to Bob--write to Cynthy.  Nice letters."
+
+"This is carrying matters with too high a hand, Mr. Bass.  I will write
+the letters to-morrow morning."  It was intolerable that he, the first
+citizen of Brampton, should have to submit to such humiliation.
+
+"Write 'em now.  W-want to see 'em."
+
+"But if I give you my word they will be written and sent to you to-morrow
+afternoon?"
+
+"T-too late," said Jethro; "sit down and write 'em now."
+
+Mr. Worthington went irresolutely to the table, stood for a minute, and
+dropped suddenly into the chair there.  He would have given anything
+(except the realization of his ambitions) to have marched out of the room
+and to have slammed the door behind him.  The letter paper and envelopes
+which Jethro had bought stood in a little pile, and Mr. Worthington
+picked up the pen.  The clock struck two as he wrote the date, as though
+to remind him that he had written it wrong.  If Flint could see him now!
+Would Flint guess?  Would anybody guess?  He stared at the white paper,
+and his rage came on again like a gust of wind, and he felt that he would
+rather beg in the streets than write such a thing.  And yet--and yet he
+sat there.  Surely Jethro Bass must have known that he could have taken
+no more exquisite vengeance than this, to compel a man--and such a man--
+to sit down in the white heat of passion--and write two letters of
+forgiveness!  Jethro sat by the window, to all appearances oblivious to
+the tortures of his victim.
+
+He who has tried to write a note--the simplest note when his mind was
+harassed, will understand something of Isaac Worthington's sensations.
+He would no sooner get an inkling of what his opening sentence was to be
+than the flames of his anger would rise and sweep it away.  He could not
+even decide which letter he was to write first: to his son, who had
+defied him and who (the father knew in his heart) condemned him? or to
+the schoolteacher, who was responsible for all his misery; who--Mr.
+Worthington believed--had taken advantage of his son's youth by feminine
+wiles of no mean order so as to gain possession of him.  I can almost
+bring myself to pity the first citizen of Brampton as he sits there with
+his pen poised over the paper, and his enemy waiting to read those tender
+epistles of forgiveness which he has yet to write.  The clock has almost
+got round to the half-hour again, and there is only the date--and a wrong
+one at that.
+
+"My dear Miss Wetherell,--Circumstances (over which I have no control?)"
+--ought he not to call her Cynthia?  He has to make the letter credible in
+the eyes of the censor who sits by the window.  "My dear Miss Wetherell,
+I have come to the conclusion"--two sheets torn up, or thrust into Mr.
+Worthington's pocket.  By this time words have begun to have a colorless
+look.  "My dear Miss Wetherell,--Having become convinced of the sincere
+attachment which my son Robert has for you, I am writing him to-night to
+give my full consent to his marriage.  He has given me to understand that
+you have hitherto persistently refused to accept him because I have
+withheld that consent, and I take this opportunity of expressing my
+admiration of this praiseworthy resolution on your part."  (If this be
+irony, it is sublime! Perhaps Isaac Worthington has a little of the
+artist in him, and now that he is in the heat of creation has forgotten
+the circumstances under which he is composing.) "My son's happiness and
+career in life are of such moment to me that, until the present, I could
+not give my sanction to what I at first regarded as a youthful fancy.
+Now that, my son, for your sake, has shown his determination and ability
+to make his own way in the world," (Isaac Worthington was not a little
+proud of this) "I have determined that it is wise to withdraw my
+opposition, and to recall Robert to his proper place, which is near me.
+I am sure that my feelings in this matter will be clear to you, and that
+you will look with indulgence upon any acts of mine which sprang from a
+natural solicitation for the welfare and happiness of my only child.  I
+shall be in Brampton in a day or two, and I shall at once give myself the
+pleasure of calling on you.  Sincerely yours, Isaac D. Worthington."
+
+Perhaps a little formal and pompous for some people, but an admirable and
+conciliatory letter for the first citizen of Brampton.  Written under
+such trying circumstances, with I know not how many erasures and false
+starts, it is little short of a marvel in art: neither too much said, nor
+too little, for a relenting parent of Mr. Worthington's character, and I
+doubt whether Talleyrand or Napoleon or even Machiavelli himself could
+have surpassed it.  The second letter, now that Mr. Worthington had got
+into the swing, was more easily written.  "My dear Robert" (it said), "I
+have made up my mind to give my consent to your marriage to Miss
+Wetherell, and I am ready to welcome you home, where I trust I shall see
+you shortly.  I have not been unimpressed by the determined manner in
+which you have gone to work for yourself, but I believe that your place
+is in Brampton, where I trust you will show the same energy in learning
+to succeed me in the business which I have founded there as you have
+exhibited in Mr. Broke's works.  Affectionately, your Father."
+
+A very creditable and handsome letter for a forgiving father.  When Mr.
+Worthington had finished it, and had addressed both the envelopes, his
+shame and vexation had, curious to relate, very considerably abated.  Not
+to go too deeply into the somewhat contradictory mental and cardiac
+processes of Mr. Worthington, he had somehow tricked himself by that
+magic exercise of wielding his pen into thinking that he was doing a
+noble and generous action: into believing that in the course of a very
+few days--or weeks, at the most, he would have recalled his erring son
+and have given Cynthia his blessing.  He would, he told himself, have
+been forced eventually to yield when that paragon of inflexibility, Bob,
+dictated terms to him at the head of the locomotive works.  Better let
+the generosity be on his (Mr. Worthington's) side.  At all events,
+victory had never been bought more cheaply.  Humiliation, in Mr.
+Worthington's eyes, had an element of publicity in it, and this episode
+had had none of that element; and Jethro Bass, moreover, was a highwayman
+who had held a pistol to his head.  In such logical manner he gradually
+bolstered up again his habitual poise and dignity.  Next week, at the
+latest, men would point to him as the head of the largest railroad
+interests in the state.
+
+He pushed back his chair, and rose, merely indicating the result of his
+labors by a wave of his hand.  And he stood in the window as Jethro Bass
+got up and went to the table.  I would that I had a pen able to describe
+Jethro's sensations when he read them.  Unfortunately, he is a man with
+few facial expressions.  But I believe that he was artist enough himself
+to appreciate the perfections of the first citizen's efforts.  After a
+much longer interval than was necessary for their perusal, Mr.
+Worthington turned.
+
+"G-guess they'll do," said Jethro, as he folded them up.  He was too
+generous not to indulge, for once, in a little well-deserved praise.
+"Hain't underdone it, and hain't overdone it a mite hev you?  M-man of
+resource.  Callate you couldn't hev beat that if you was to take a week
+to it."
+
+"I think it only fair to tell you," said Mr. Worthington, picking up his
+silk hat, "that in those letters I have merely anticipated a very little
+my intentions in the matter.  My son having proved his earnestness,
+I was about to consent to the marriage of my own accord."
+
+"G-goin' to do it anyway--was you?"
+
+"I had so determined."
+
+"A-always thought you was high-minded," said Jethro.
+
+Mr. Worthington was on the point of giving a tart reply to this, but
+restrained himself.
+
+"Then I may look upon the matter as settled?" he said.  "The
+Consolidation Bill is to become a law?"
+
+"Yes," said Jethro, "you'll get your bill."  Mr. Worthington had got his
+hand on the knob of the door when Jethro stopped him with a word.  He had
+no facial expressions, but he had an eye, as we have seen--an eye that
+for the second time appeared terrible to his visitor.  "Isaac
+Worthington," he said, "a-act up to it.  No trickery--or look out--look
+out."
+
+Then, the incident being closed so far as he was concerned, Jethro went
+back to his chair by the window, but it is to be recorded that Isaac
+Worthington did not answer him immediately.  Then he said:--
+
+"You seem to forget that you are talking to a gentleman."
+
+"That's so," answered Jethro, "so you be."
+
+He sat where he was long after the sky had whitened and the stars had
+changed from gold to silver and gone out, and the sunlight had begun to
+glance upon the green leaves of the park.  Perhaps he was thinking of the
+life he had lived, which was spent now: of the men he had ruled, of the
+victories he had gained from that place which would know him no more.  He
+had won the last and the greatest of his victories there, compared to
+which the others had indeed been as vanities.  Perhaps he looked back
+over the highway of his life and thought of the woman whom he had loved,
+and wondered what it had been if she had trod it by his side.  Who will
+judge him?  He had been what he had been; and as the Era was, so was he.
+Verily, one generation passeth away, and another generation cometh.
+
+When Mr. Isaac Worthington arrived at Mr. Duncan's house, where he was
+staying, at three o'clock in the morning, he saw to his surprise light
+from the library windows lying in bars across the lawn under the trees.
+He found Mr. Duncan in that room with Somers, his son, who had just
+returned from a seaside place, and they were discussing a very grave
+event.  Miss Janet Duncan had that day eloped with a gentleman who--to
+judge from the photograph Somers held--was both handsome and romantic-
+looking.  He had long hair and burning eyes, and a title not to be then
+verified, and he owned a castle near some place on the peninsula of Italy
+not on the map.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+We are back in Brampton, owning, as we do, an annual pass over the Truro
+Railroad.  Cynthia has been there all the summer, and as it is now the
+first of September, her school has begun again.  I do not by any means
+intend to imply that Brampton is not a pleasant place to spend the
+summer: the number of its annual visitors is a refutation of that; but to
+Cynthia the season had been one of great unhappiness.  Several times Lem
+Hallowell had stopped the stage in front of Ephraim's house to beg her to
+go to Coniston, and Mr. Satterlee had come himself; but she could not
+have borne to be there without Jethro.  Nor would she go to Boston,
+though urged by Miss Lucretia; and Mrs. Merrill and the girls had
+implored her to join them at a seaside place on the Cape.
+
+Cynthia had made a little garden behind Ephraim's house, and she spent
+the summer there with her flowers and her books, many of which Lem had
+fetched from Coniston.  Ephraim loved to sit there of an evening and
+smoke his pipe and chat with Ezra Graves and the neighbors who dropped
+in.  Among these were Mr. Gamaliel Ives, who talked literature with
+Cynthia; and Lucy Baird, his wife, who had taken Cynthia under her wing.
+I wish I had time to write about Lucy Baird.  And Mr. Jonathan Hill came-
+-his mortgage not having been foreclosed, after all.  When Cynthia was
+alone with Ephraim she often read to him,--generally from books of a
+martial flavor,--and listened with an admirable hypocrisy to certain
+narratives which he was in the habit of telling.
+
+They never spoke of Jethro.  Ephraim was not a casuist, and his sense of
+right and wrong came largely through his affections.  It is safe to say
+that he never made an analysis of the sorrow which he knew was afflicting
+the girl, but he had had a general and most sympathetic understanding of
+it ever since the time when Jethro had gone back to the capital; and
+Ephraim never brought home his Guardian or his Clarion now, but read them
+at the office, that their contents might not disturb her.
+
+No wonder that Cynthia was unhappy.  The letters came, almost every day,
+with the postmark of the town in New Jersey where Mr. Broke's locomotive
+works were; and she answered them now (but oh, how scrupulously!), though
+not every day.  If the waters of love rose up through the grains of sand,
+it was, at least, not Cynthia's fault.  Hers were the letters of a
+friend.  She was reading such and such a book--had he read it?  And he
+must not work too hard.  How could her letters be otherwise when Jethro
+Bass, her benefactor, was at the capital working to defeat and perhaps to
+ruin Bob's father? when Bob's father had insulted and persecuted her?
+She ought not to have written at all; but the lapses of such a heroine
+are very rare, and very dear.
+
+Yes, Cynthia's life was very bitter that summer, with but little hope on
+the horizon of it.  Her thoughts were divided between Bob and Jethro.
+Many a night she lay awake resolving to write to Jethro, even to go to
+him, but when morning came she could not bring herself to do so.  I do
+not think it was because she feared that he might believe her appeal
+would be made in behalf of Bob's father.  Knowing Jethro as she did, she
+felt that it would be useless, and she could not bear to make it in vain;
+if the memory of that evening in the tannery shed would not serve,
+nothing would serve.  And again--he had gone to avenge her.
+
+It was inevitable that she should hear tidings from the capital.  Isaac
+Worthington's own town was ringing with it.  And as week after week of
+that interminable session went by, the conviction slowly grew upon
+Brampton that its first citizen had been beaten by Jethro Bass.
+Something of Mr. Worthington's affairs was known: the mills, for
+instance, were not being run to their full capacity.  And then had come
+the definite news that Mr. Worthington was beaten, a local representative
+having arrived straight from the rotunda.  Cynthia overheard Lem
+Hallowell telling it to Ephraim, and she could not for the life of her
+help rejoicing, though she despised herself for it.  Isaac Worthington
+was humbled now, and Jethro had humbled him to avenge her.  Despite her
+grief over his return to that life, there was something to compel her awe
+and admiration in the way he had risen and done this thing after men had
+fallen from him.  Her mother had had something of these same feelings,
+without knowing why.
+
+People who had nothing but praise for him before were saying hard things
+about Isaac Worthington that night.  When the baron is defeated, the
+serfs come out of their holes in the castle rock and fling their curses
+across the moat.  Cynthia slept but little, and was glad when the day
+came to take her to her scholars, to ease her mind of the thoughts which
+tortured it.
+
+And then, when she stopped at the post-office to speak to Ephraim on her
+way homeward in the afternoon, she heard men talking behind the
+partition, and she stood, as one stricken, listening beside the window.
+Other tidings had come in the shape of a telegram.  The first rumor had
+been false.  Brampton had not yet received the details, but the
+Consolidation Bill had gone into the House that morning, and would be a
+law before the week was out.  A part of it was incomprehensible to
+Cynthia, but so much she had understood.  She did not wait to speak to
+Ephraim, and she was going out again when a man rushed past her and
+through the partition door.  Cynthia paused instinctively, for she
+recognized him as one of the frequenters of the station and a bearer of
+news.
+
+"Jethro's come home, boys," he shouted; "come in on the four o'clock, and
+went right off to Coniston.  Guess he's done for, this time, for certain.
+Looks it.  By Godfrey, he looks eighty!  Callate his day's over, from the
+way the boys talked on the train."
+
+Cynthia lingered to hear no more, and went out, dazed, into the September
+sunshine: Jethro beaten, and broken, and gone to Coniston.  Resolution
+came to her as she walked.  Arriving home, she wrote a little note and
+left it on the table for Ephraim; and going out again, ran by the back
+lane to Mr. Sherman's livery stable behind the Brampton House, and in
+half an hour was driving along that familiar road to Coniston, alone; for
+she had often driven Jethro's horses, and knew every turn of the way.
+And as she gazed at the purple mountain through the haze and drank in the
+sweet scents of the year's fulness, she was strangely happy.  There was
+the village green in the cool evening light, and the flagstaff with its
+tip silvered by the departing sun.  She waved to Rias and Lem and Moses
+at the store, but she drove on to the tannery house, and hitched the
+horse at the rough granite post, and went in, and through the house,
+softly, to the kitchen.
+
+Jethro was standing in the doorway, and did not turn.  He may have
+thought she was Millicent Skinner.  Cynthia could see his face.  It was
+older, indeed, and lined and worn, but that fearful look of desolation
+which she had once surprised upon it, and which she in that instant
+feared to see, was not there.  Jethro's soul was at peace, though Cynthia
+could not understand why it was so.  She stole to him and flung her arms
+about his neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against him for
+I know not how long.  Had it been possible to have held her there always,
+he would never have let her go.  At last he looked down into her tear-wet
+face, into her eyes that were shining with tears.
+
+"D-done wrong, Cynthy."
+
+Cynthia did not answer that, for she remembered how she, too, had exulted
+when she had believed him to have accomplished Isaac Worthington's
+downfall.  Now that he had failed, and she was in his arms, it was not
+for her to judge--only to rejoice.
+
+"Didn't look for you to come back--didn't expect it."
+
+"Uncle Jethro!" she faltered.  Love for her had made him go, and she
+would not say that, either.
+
+"D-don't hate me, Cynthy--don't hate me?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Love me--a little?"
+
+She reached up her hands and brushed back his hair, tenderly, from his
+forehead.  Such--a loving gesture was her answer.
+
+"You are going to stay here always, now," she said, in a low voice, "you
+are never going away again."
+
+"G-goin' to stay always," he answered.  Perhaps he was thinking of the
+hillside clearing in the forest--who knows!  "You'll come-sometime,
+Cynthy--sometime?"
+
+"I'll come every Saturday and Sunday, Uncle Jethro," she said, smiling up
+at him.  "Saturday is only two days away, now.  I can hardly wait."
+
+"Y-you'll come sometime?"
+
+"Uncle Jethro, do you think I'll be away from you, except--except when I
+have to?"
+
+"C-come and read to me--won't you--come and read?"
+
+"Of course I will!"
+
+"C-call to mind the first book you read to me, Cynthy?"
+
+"It was 'Robinson Crusoe,'" she said.
+
+"'R-Robinson Crusoe.' Often thought of that book.  Know some of it by
+heart.  R-read it again, sometime, Cynthy?"
+
+She looked up at him a little anxiously.  His eyes were on the great hill
+opposite, across Coniston Water.
+
+"I will, indeed, Uncle Jethro, if we can find it," she answered.
+
+"Guess I can find it," said Jethro.  "R-remember when you saw him makin'
+a ship?"
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia," and I had my feet in the pool."
+
+The book had made a profound impression upon Jethro, partly because
+Cynthia had first read it to him, and partly for another reason.  The
+isolation of Crusoe; depicted by Defoe's genius, had been comparable to
+his own isolation, and he had pondered upon it much of late.  Yes, and
+upon a certain part of another book which he had read earlier in life:
+Napoleon had ended his days on St. Helena.
+
+They walked out under the trees to the brook-side and stood listening to
+the tinkling of the cowbells in the wood lot beyond.  The light faded
+early on these September evenings, and the smoky mist had begun to rise
+from the water when they turned back again.  The kitchen windows were
+already growing yellow, and through them the faithful Millicent could be
+seen bustling about in her preparations for supper.  But Cynthia, having
+accomplished her errand, would not go in.  She could not have borne to
+have any one drive back with her to Brampton then, and she must not be
+late upon the road.
+
+"I will come Friday evening, Uncle Jethro," she said, as she kissed him
+and gave one last, lingering look at his face.  Had it been possible, she
+would not have left him, and on her way to Brampton through the gathering
+darkness she mused anxiously upon that strange calmness be had shown
+after defeat.
+
+She drove her horse on to the floor of Mr. Sherman's stable, that
+gentleman himself gallantly assisting her to alight, and walked homeward
+through the lane.  Ephraim had not yet returned from the postoffice,
+which did not close until eight, and Cynthia smiled when she saw the
+utensils of his cooking-kit strewn on the hearth.  In her absence he
+invariably unpacked and used it, and of course Cynthia at once set
+herself to cleaning and packing it again.  After that she got her own
+supper--a very simple affair--and was putting the sitting room to rights
+when Ephraim came thumping in.
+
+"Well, I swan!" he exclaimed when he saw her.  "I didn't look for you to
+come back so soon, Cynthy.  Put up the kit--hev you?"  He stood in front
+of the fireplace staring with apparent interest at the place where the
+kit had been, and added in a voice which he strove to make quite casual,
+"How be Jethro?"
+
+"He looks older, Cousin Eph," she answered, after a pause, "and I think
+he is very tired.  But he seems he seems more tranquil and contented than
+I hoped to find him."
+
+"I want to know," said Ephraim.  "I am glad to hear it.  Glad you went
+up, Cynthy--you done right to go.
+
+"I'd have gone with you, if you'd only told me.  I'll git a chance to go
+up Sunday."
+
+There was an air of repressed excitement about the veteran which did not
+escape Cynthia.  He held two letters in his hand, and, being a
+postmaster, he knew the handwriting on both.  One had come from that
+place in New Jersey, and drew no comment.  But the other!  That one had
+been postmarked at the capital, and as he had sat at his counter at the
+post-office waiting for closing time he bad turned it over and over with
+many ejaculations and futile guesses.  Past master of dissimulation that
+he was, he had made up his mind--if he should find Cynthia at home--to
+lay the letters indifferently on the table and walk into his bedroom.
+This campaign he now proceeded to carry out.
+
+Cynthia smiled again when he was gone, and shook her head and picked up
+the letters: Bob's was uppermost and she read that first, without a
+thought of the other one.  And she smiled as she read for Bob had had a
+promotion.  He was not yet at the head of the locomotive works, he
+hastened to add, for fear that Cynthia might think that Mr. Broke had
+resigned the presidency in his favor; and Cynthia never failed to laugh
+at these little facetious asides.  He was now earning the princely sum of
+ninety dollars a month--not enough to marry on, alas!  On Saturday nights
+he and Percy Broke scrubbed as much as possible of the grime from their
+hands and faces and went to spend Sunday at Elberon, the Broke place on
+the Hudson; from whence Miss Sally Broke, if she happened to be at home,
+always sent Cynthia her love.  As Cynthia is still a heroine, I shall not
+describe how she felt about Sally Broke's love.  There was plenty of
+Bob's own in the letter.  Cynthia would got have blamed him if he bad
+fallen in love with Miss Broke.  It seemed to her little short of
+miraculous that, amidst such surroundings, he could be true to her.
+
+After a period which was no briefer than that usually occupied by Bob's
+letters, Cynthia took the other one from her lap, and stared at it in
+much perplexity before she tore it open.  We have seen its contents over
+Mr. Worthington's shoulder, and our hearts will not stop beating--as
+Cynthia's did.  She read it twice before the full meaning of it came to
+her, and after that she could not well mistake it,--the language being so
+admirable in every way.  She sat very still for a long while, and
+presently she heard Ephraim go out.  But Cynthia did not move.  Mr.
+Worthington relented and Bob recalled!  The vista of happiness suddenly
+opened up, widened and widened until it was too bright for Cynthia's
+vision, and she would compel her mind to dwell on another prospect,--that
+of the father and son reconciled.  Although her temples throbbed, she
+tried to analyze the letter.  It implied that Mr. Worthington had allowed
+Bob to remain away on a sort of probation; it implied that it had been
+dictated by a strong paternal love mingled with a strong paternal
+justice.  And then there was the appeal to her: "You will look with
+indulgence upon any acts of mine which sprang from a natural solicitation
+for the welfare and happiness of my only child."  A terrible insight is
+theirs to whom it is given to love as Cynthia loved.
+
+Suddenly there came a knock which frightened her, for her mind was
+running on swiftly from point to point: had, indeed, flown as far as
+Coniston by now, and she was thinking of that strange look of peace on
+Jethro's face which had troubled her.  One letter she thrust into her
+dress, but the other she laid aside, and her knees trembled under her as
+she rose and went into the entry and raised the latch and opened the
+door.  There was a moon, and the figure in the frock coat and the silk
+hat was the one which she expected to see.  The silk hat came off very
+promptly.
+
+"I hope I am not disturbing you, Miss Wetherell," said the owner of it.
+
+"No," answered Cynthia, faintly.
+
+"May I come in?"
+
+Cynthia held open the door a little wider, and Mr. Worthington walked in.
+He seemed very majestic and out of place in the little house which
+Gabriel Post had built, and he carried into it some of the atmosphere of
+the walnut and high ceilings of his own mansion.  His manner of laying
+his hat, bottom up, on the table, and of unbuttoning his coat, subtly
+indicated the honor which he was conferring upon the place.  And he eyed
+Cynthia, standing before him in the lamplight, with a modification of the
+hawk-like look which was meant to be at once condescending and
+conciliatory.  He did not imprint a kiss upon her brow, as some
+prospective fathers-in-law would have done.  But his eyes, perhaps
+involuntarily, paid a tribute to her personal appearance which heightened
+her color.  She might not, after all, be such a discredit to the
+Worthington family.
+
+"Won't you sit down?" she asked.
+
+"Thank you, Cynthia," he said; "I hope I may now be allowed to call you
+Cynthia?"
+
+She did not answer him, but sat down herself, and he followed her
+example; with his eyes still upon her.
+
+"You have doubtless received my letter," began Mr. Worthington.  "I only
+arrived in Brampton an hour ago, but I thought it best to come to you at
+once, under the circumstances."
+
+"Yes," replied Cynthia, "I received the letter."
+
+"I am glad," said Mr. Worthington.  He was beginning to be a little taken
+aback by her calmness and her apparent absence of joy.  It was scarcely
+the way in which a school-teacher should receive the advances of the
+first citizen, come to give a gracious consent to her marriage with his
+son.  Had he known it, Cynthia was anything but calm.  "I am glad," he
+said, "because I took pains to explain the exact situation in that
+letter, and to set forth my own sentiments.  I hope you understood them."
+
+"Yes, I understood them," said Cynthia, in a low tone.
+
+This was enigmatical, to say the least.  But Mr. Worthington had come
+with such praiseworthy intentions that he was disposed to believe that
+the girl was overwhelmed by the good fortune which had suddenly overtaken
+her.  He was therefore disposed to be a little conciliatory.
+
+"My conduct may have appeared harsh to you," he continued.  "I will not
+deny that I opposed the matter at first.  Robert was still in college,
+and he has a generous, impressionable nature which he inherits from his
+poor mother--the kind of nature likely to commit a rash act which would
+ruin his career.  I have since become convinced that he has--ahem--
+inherited likewise a determination of purpose and an ability to get on in
+the world which I confess I had underestimated.  My friend, Mr. Broke,
+has written me a letter about him, and tells me that he has already
+promoted him."
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia.
+
+"You hear from him?" inquired Mr. Worthington, giving her a quick glance.
+
+"Yes," said Cynthia, her color rising a little.
+
+"And yet," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I have been under the
+impression that you have persistently refused to marry him."
+
+"That is true," she answered.
+
+"I cannot refrain from complimenting you, Cynthia, upon such rare
+conduct," said he.  "You will be glad to know that it has contributed
+more than anything else toward my estimation of your character, and has
+strengthened me in my resolution that I am now doing right.  It may be
+difficult for you to understand a father's feelings.  The complete
+separation from my only son was telling on me severely, and I could not
+forget that you were the cause of that separation.  I knew nothing about
+you, except--"  He hesitated, for she had turned to him.
+
+"Except what?" she asked.
+
+Mr. Worthington coughed.  Mr. Flint had told him, that very morning, of
+her separation from Jethro, and of the reasons which people believed had
+caused it.  Unfortunately, we have not time to go into that conversation
+with Mr. Flint, who had given a very good account of Cynthia indeed.
+After all (Mr. Worthington reflected), he had consented to the marriage,
+and there was no use in bringing Jethro's name into the conversation.
+Jethro would be forgotten soon.
+
+"I will not deny to You that I had other plans for my son," he said.
+"I had hoped that he would marry a daughter of a friend of mine.  You must
+be a little indulgent with parents, Cynthia," he added with a little
+smile, "we have our castles in the air, too.  Sometimes, as in this case,
+by a wise provision of providence they go astray.  I suppose you have
+heard of Miss Duncan's marriage."
+
+"No," said Cynthia.
+
+"She ran off with a worthless Italian nobleman.  I believe, on the
+whole," he said, with what was an extreme complaisance for the first
+citizen, "that I have reason to congratulate myself upon Robert's choice.
+I have made inquiries about you, and I find that I have had the pleasure
+of knowing your mother, whom I respected very much.  And your father, I
+understand, came of very good people, and was forced by circumstances to
+adopt the means of livelihood he did.  My attention has been called to
+the letters he wrote to the Guardian, which I hear have been highly
+praised by competent critics, and I have ordered a set of them for the
+files of the library.  You yourself, I find, are highly thought of in
+Brampton" (a, not unimportant factor, by the way); "you have been
+splendidly educated, and are a lady.  In short, Cynthia, I have come to
+give my formal consent to your engagement to my son Robert."
+
+"But I am not engaged to him," said Cynthia.
+
+"He will be here shortly, I imagine," said Mr. Worthington.
+
+Cynthia was trembling more than ever by this time.  She was very angry,
+and she had found it very difficult to repress the things which she had
+been impelled to speak.  She did not hate Isaac Worthington now--she
+despised him.  He had not dared to mention Jethro, who had been her
+benefactor, though he had done his best to have her removed from the
+school because of her connection with Jethro.
+
+"Mr. Worthington," she said, "I have not yet made up my mind whether I
+shall marry your son."
+
+To say that Mr. Worthington's breath was taken away when he heard these
+words would be to use a mild expression.  He doubted his senses.
+
+"What?" he exclaimed, starting forward, "what do you mean?"
+
+Cynthia hesitated a moment.  She was not frightened, but she was trying
+to choose her words without passion.
+
+"I refused to marry him," she said, "because you withheld your consent,
+and I did not wish to be the cause of a quarrel between you.  It was not
+difficult to guess your feelings toward me, even before certain things
+occurred of which I will not speak.  I did my best, from the very first,
+to make Bob give up the thought of marrying me, although I loved and
+honored him.  Loving him as I do, I do not want to be the cause of
+separating him from his father, and of depriving him of that which is
+rightfully his.  But something was due to myself.  If I should ever make
+up my mind to marry him," continued Cynthia, looking at Mr. Worthington
+steadfastly, "it will not be because your consent is given or withheld."
+
+"Do you tell me this to my face?" exclaimed Mr. Worthington, now in a
+rage himself at such unheard-of presumption.
+
+"To your face," said Cynthia, who got more self-controlled as he grew
+angry.  "I believe that that consent, which you say you have given
+freely, was wrung from you."
+
+It was unfortunate that the first citizen might not always have Mr. Flint
+by him to restrain and caution him.  But Mr. Flint could have no command
+over his master's sensations, and anger and apprehension goaded Mr.
+Worthington to indiscretion.
+
+"Jethro Bass told you this!" he cried out.
+
+"No," Cynthia answered, not in the least surprised by the admission,
+"he did not tell me--but he will if I ask him.  I guessed it from your
+letter.  I heard that he had come back to-day, and I went to Coniston to
+see him, and he told me--he had been defeated."
+
+Tears came into her eyes at the remembrance of the scene in the tannery
+house that afternoon, and she knew now why Jethro's face had worn that
+look of peace.  He had made his supreme sacrifice--for her.  No, he had
+told her nothing, and she might never have known.  She sat thinking of
+the magnitude of this thing Jethro had done, and she ceased to speak, and
+the tears coursed down her cheeks unheeded.
+
+Isaac Worthington had a habit of clutching things when he was in a rage,
+and now he clutched the arms of the chair.  He had grown white.  He was
+furious with her, furious with himself for having spoken that which might
+be construed into a confession.  He had not finished writing the letters
+before he had stood self-justified, and he had been self-justified ever
+since.  Where now were these arguments so wonderfully plausible?  Where
+were the refutations which he had made ready in case of a barely possible
+need?  He had gone into the Pelican House intending to tell Jethro of his
+determination to agree to the marriage.  That was one.  He had done so--
+that was another--and he had written the letters that Jethro might be
+convinced of his good will.  There were still more, involving Jethro's
+character for veracity and other things.  Summoning these, he waited for
+Cynthia to have done speaking, but when she had finished--he said nothing.
+He looked a her, and saw the tears on her face, and he saw that she had
+completely forgotten his presence.
+
+For the life of him, Isaac Worthington could not utter a word.  He was a
+man, as we know, who did not talk idly, and he knew that Cynthia would
+not hear what he said; and arguments and denunciations lose their effect
+when repeated.  Again, he knew that she would not believe him.  Never in
+his life had Isaac Worthington been so ignored, so put to shame, as by
+this school-teacher of Brampton.  Before, self-esteem and sophistry had
+always carried him off between them; sometimes, in truth, with a wound--
+the wound had always healed.  But he had a feeling, to-night, that this
+woman had glanced into his soul, and had turned away from it.  As he
+looked at her the texture of his anger changed; he forgot for the first
+time that which he had been pleased to think of as her position in life,
+and he feared her.  He had matched his spirit against hers.
+
+Before long the situation became intolerable to him, for Cynthia still
+sat silent.  She was thinking of how she had blamed Jethro for going back
+to that life, even though his love for her had made him do it.  But Isaac
+Worthington did not know of what she was thinking--he thought only of
+himself and his predicament.  He could not remain, and yet he could not
+go--with dignity.  He who had come to bestow could not depart like a
+whipped dog.
+
+Suddenly a fear transfixed him: suppose that this woman, from whom he
+could not hide the truth, should tell his son what he had done.  Bob
+would believe her.  Could he, Isaac Worthington, humble his pride and ask
+her to keep her suspicions to herself?  He would then be acknowledging
+that they were more than suspicions.  If he did so, he would have to
+appear to forgive her in spite of what she had said to him.  And Bob was
+coming home.  Could he tell Bob that he had changed his mind and
+withdrawn his consent to the marriage?  There world be the reason, and
+again Bob would believe her.  And again, if he withdrew his consent,
+there was Jethro to reckon with.  Jethro must have a weapon still, Mr.
+Worthington thought, although he could not imagine what it might be.  As
+Isaac Worthington sat there, thinking, it grew clear, to him at last that
+there was but one exit out of a, very desperate situation.
+
+He glanced at Cynthia again, this time appraisingly.  She had dried her
+eyes, but she made no effort to speak.  After all, she would make such a
+wife for his son as few men possessed.  He thought of Sarah Hollingsworth.
+She had been a good woman, but there had been many times when he had
+deplored--especially in his travels the lack of other qualities in his
+wife. Cynthia, he thought, had these qualities,--so necessary for the
+wife of one who would succeed to power--though whence she had got them
+Isaac Worthington could not imagine.  She would become a personage; she
+was a woman of whom they had no need to be ashamed at home or abroad.
+Having completed these reflections, he broke the silence.
+
+"I am sorry that you should have been misled into thinking such a thing
+as you have expressed, Cynthia," he said, "but I believe that I can
+understand something of the feelings which prompted you.  It is natural
+that you should have a resentment against me after everything that has
+happened.  It is perhaps natural, too, that I should lose my temper under
+the circumstances.  Let us forget it.  And I trust that in the future we
+shall grow into the mutual respect and affection which our nearer
+relationship will demand."
+
+He rose, and took up his hat, and Cynthia rose too.  There was something
+very fine, he thought, about her carriage and expression as she stood in
+front of him.
+
+"There is my hand," he said,--"will you take it?"
+
+"I will take it," Cynthia answered, "because you are Bob's father."
+
+And then Mr. Worthington went away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+I am able to cite one notable instance, at least, to disprove the saying
+a part of which is written above, and I have yet to hear of a case in
+which a gentleman ever hesitated a single instant on account of the first
+letter of a lady's last name.  I know, indeed, of an occasion when
+locomotives could not go fast enough, when thirty miles an hour seemed a
+snail's pace to a young main who sat by the open window of a train that
+crept northward on a certain hazy September morning up the beautiful
+valley of a broad river which we know.
+
+It was after three o'clock before he caught sight of the familiar crest
+of Farewell Mountain, and the train ran into Harwich.  How glad he was to
+see everybody there, whether he knew them or not!  He came near hugging
+the conductor of the Truro accommodation; who, needless to say, did not
+ask him for a ticket, or even a pass.  And then the young man went
+forward and almost shook the arms off of the engineer and the fireman,
+and climbed into the cab, and actually drove the engine himself as far as
+Brampton, where it arrived somewhat ahead of schedule, having taken some
+of the curves and bridges at a speed a little beyond the law.  The
+engineer was richer by five dollars, and the son of a railroad president
+is a privileged character, anyway.
+
+Yes, here was Brampton, and in spite of the haze the sun had never shone
+so brightly on the terraced steeple of the meeting-house.  He leaped out
+of the cab almost before the engine had stopped, and beamed upon
+everybody on the platform,--even upon Mr. Dodd, who chanced to be there.
+In a twinkling the young man is in Mr. Sherman's hack, and Mr. Sherman
+galloping his horse down Brampton Street, the young man with his head out
+of the window, smiling; grinning would be a better word.  Here are the
+iron mastiffs, and they seem to be grinning, too.  The young man flings
+open the carriage door and leaps out, and the door is almost broken from
+its hinges by the maple tree.  He rushes up the steps and through the
+hall, and into the library, where the first citizen and his seneschal are
+sitting.
+
+"Hello, Father, you see I didn't waste any time," he cried; grasping his
+father's hand in a grip that made Mr. Worthington wince.  "Well, you are
+a trump, after all.  We're both a little hot-headed, I guess, and do
+things we're sorry for,--but that's all over now, isn't it?  I'm sorry.
+I might have known you'd come round when you found out for yourself what
+kind of a girl Cynthia was.  Did you ever see anybody like her?"
+
+Mr. Flint turned his back, and started to walk out of the room.
+
+"Don't go, Flint, old boy," Bob called out, seizing Mr. Flint's hand,
+too.  "I can't stay but a minute, now.  How are you?"
+
+"All right, Bob," answered Mr. Flint, with a curious, kindly look in his
+eyes that was not often there. "I'm glad to see you home.  I have to go
+to the bank."
+
+"Well, Father," said Bob, "school must be out, and I imagine you know
+where I'm going.  I just thought I'd stop in to--to thank you, and get a
+benediction."
+
+I am very happy to have you back, Robert," replied Mr. Worthington, and
+it was true.  It would have been strange indeed if some tremor of
+sentiment had not been in his voice and some gleam of pride in his eye as
+he looked upon his son.
+
+"So you saw her, and couldn't resist her," said Bob.  "Wasn't that how it
+happened?"
+
+Mr. Worthington sat down again at the desk, and his hand began to stray
+among the papers.  He was thinking of Mr. Flint's exit.
+
+"I do not arrive at my decisions quite in that way, Robert," he answered.
+
+"But you have seen her?"
+
+"Yes, I have seen her."
+
+There was a hesitation, an uneasiness in his father's tone for which Bob
+could not account, and which he attributed to emotion.  He did not guess
+that this hour of supreme joy could hold for Isaac Worthington another
+sensation.
+
+"Isn't she the finest girl in the world?" he demanded.  "How does she
+seem?  How does she look?"
+
+"She looks extremely well," said Mr. Worthington, who had now schooled
+his voice.  "In fact, I am quite ready to admit that Cynthia Wetherell
+possesses the qualifications necessary for your wife.  If she had not,
+I should never have written you."
+
+Bob walked to the window.
+
+"Father;" he said, speaking with a little difficulty, "I can't tell you
+how much I appreciate your--your coming round.  I wanted to do the right
+thing, but I just couldn't give up such a girl as that."
+
+"We shall let bygones be bygones, Robert," answered Mr. Worthington,
+clearing his throat.
+
+"She never would have me without your consent.  By the way," he cried,
+turning suddenly, "did she say she'd have me now?"
+
+"I believe," said Mr. Worthington, clearing his throat again, "I believe
+she reserved her decision."
+
+"I must be off," said Bob, "she goes to Coniston on Fridays.  I'll drive
+her out.  Good-by, Father."
+
+He flew out of the room, ran into Mrs. Holden, whom he astonished by
+saluting on the cheek, and astonished even more by asking her to tell
+Silas to drive his black horses to Gabriel Post's house--as the cottage
+was still known in Brampton.  And having hastily removed some of the
+cinders, he flew out of the door and reached the park-like space in the
+middle of Brampton Street.  Then he tried to walk decorously, but it was
+hard work.  What if she should not be in?
+
+The door and windows of the little house were open that balmy afternoon,
+and the bees were buzzing among the flowers which Cynthia had planted on
+either side of the step.  Bob went up the path, and caught a glimpse of
+her through the entry standing in the sitting room.  She was, indeed,
+waiting for the Coniston stage, and she did not see him.  Shall I destroy
+the mental image of the reader who has known her so long by trying to
+tell what she looked like?  Some heroines grow thin and worn by the
+troubles which they are forced to go through.  Cynthia was not this kind
+of a heroine.  She was neither tall nor short, and the dark blue gown
+which she wore set off (so Bob thought) the curves of her figure to
+perfection.  Her face had become a little more grave--yes, and more
+noble; and the eyes and mouth had an indescribable, womanly sweetness.
+
+He stood for a moment outside the doorway gazing at her; hesitating to
+desecrate that revery, which seemed to him to have a touch of sadness in
+it.  And then she turned her head, slowly, and saw him, and her lips
+parted, and a startled look came into her eyes, but she did not move.  He
+came quickly into the room and stopped again, quivering from head to foot
+with the passion which the sight of her never failed to unloose within
+him.  Still she did not speak, but her lip trembled, and the love leaping
+in his eyes kindled a yearning in hers,--a yearning she was powerless to
+resist.  He may by that strange power have drawn her toward him--he never
+knew.  Neither of them could have given evidence on that marvellous
+instant when the current bridged the space between them.  He could not
+say whether this woman whom he had seized by force before had shown alike
+vitality in her surrender.  He only knew that her arms were woven about
+his neck, and that the kiss of which he had dreamed was again on his
+lips, and that he felt once more her wonderful, supple body pressed
+against his, and her heart beating, and her breast heaving.  And he knew
+that the strength of the love in her which he had gained was beyond
+estimation.
+
+Thus for a time they swung together in ethereal space, breathless with
+the motion of their flight.  The duration of such moments is--in words--
+limitless.  Now he held her against him, and again he held her away that
+his eyes might feast upon hers until she dropped her lashes and the
+crimson tide flooded into her face and she hid it again in the refuge she
+had longed for,--murmuring his name.  But at last, startled by some sound
+without and so brought back to earth, she led him gently to the window at
+the side and looked up at him searchingly.  He was tanned no longer.
+
+"I was afraid you had been working too hard," she said.
+
+"So you do love me?" was Bob's answer to this remark.
+
+Cynthia smiled at him with her eyes: gravely, if such a thing may be said
+of a smile.
+
+"Bob, how can you ask?"
+
+"Oh, Cynthia," he cried, "if you knew what I have been through, you
+wouldn't have held out, I know it.  I began to think I should never have
+you."
+
+"But you have me now," she said, and was silent.
+
+"Why do you look like that?" he asked.
+
+She smiled up at him again.
+
+"I, too, have suffered, Bob," she said.  "And I have thought of you night
+and day."
+
+"God bless you, sweetheart," he cried, and kissed her again,--many times.
+"It's all right now, isn't it?  I knew my father would give his consent
+when he found out what you were."
+
+The expression of pain which had troubled him crossed her face again, and
+she put her hand on his shoulder.
+
+"Listen, dearest," she said, "I love you.  I am doing this for you.  You
+must understand that."
+
+"Why, yes, Cynthia, I understand it--of course I do," he answered,
+perplexed.  "I understand it, but I don't deserve it."
+
+"I want you to know," she continued in a low voice, "that I should have
+married you anyway.  I--I could not have helped it."
+
+"Cynthia!"
+
+"If you were to go back to the locomotive works' tomorrow, I would marry
+you."
+
+"On ninety dollars a month?" exclaimed Bob.
+
+"If you wanted me," she said.
+
+"Wanted you!  I could live in a log cabin with you the rest of my life."
+
+She drew down his face to hers, and kissed him.
+
+"But I wished you to be reconciled with your father," she said; "I could
+not bear to come between you.  You--you are reconciled, aren't you?"
+
+"Indeed, we are," he said.
+
+"I am glad, Bob," she answered simply.  "I should not have been happy if
+I had driven you away from the place where you should be, which is your
+home."
+
+"Wherever you are will be my home; sweetheart," he said, and pressed her
+to him once more.
+
+At length, looking past his shoulder into the street, she saw Lem
+Hallowell pulling up the Brampton stage before the door.
+
+"Bob," she said, "I must go to Coniston and see Uncle Jethro.  I promised
+him."
+
+Bob's answer was to walk into the entry, where he stood waving the most
+joyous of greetings at the surprised stage driver.
+
+"I guess you won't get anybody here, Lem," he called out.
+
+"But, Bob," protested Cynthia, from within, afraid to show her face just
+then, "I have to go, I promised.  And--and I want to go," she added when
+he turned.
+
+"I'm running a stage to Coniston to-day myself, Lem," said he "and I'm
+going to steal your best passenger."
+
+Lemuel immediately flung down his reins and jumped out of the stage and
+came up the path and into the entry, where he stood confronting Cynthia.
+
+"Hev you took him, Cynthy?" he demanded.
+
+"Yes, Lem," she answered, "won't you congratulate me?"
+
+The warm-hearted stage driver did congratulate her in a most unmistakable
+manner.
+
+"I think a sight of her, Bob," he said after he had shaken both of Bob's
+hands and brushed his own eyes with his coat sleeve.  "I've knowed her so
+long--"  Whereupon utterance failed him, and he ran down the path and
+jumped into his stage again and drove off.
+
+And then Cynthia sent Bob on an errand--not a very long one, and while he
+was gone, she sat down at the table and tried to realize her happiness,
+and failed.  In less than ten minutes Bob had come back with Cousin
+Ephraim, as fast as he could hobble.  He flung his arms around her, stick
+and all, and he was crying.  It is a fact that old soldiers sometimes
+cry.  But his tears did not choke his utterance.
+
+"Great Tecumseh!" said Cousin Ephraim, "so you've went and done it,
+Cynthy.  Siege got a little mite too hot.  I callated she'd capitulate in
+the end, but she held out uncommon long."
+
+"That she did," exclaimed Bob, feelingly.
+
+"I--I was tellin' Bob I hain't got nothin' against him," continued
+Ephraim.
+
+"Oh, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing in spite of herself, and
+glancing at Bob, "is that all you can say?"
+
+"Cousin Eph's all right," said Bob, laughing too.  "We understand each
+other."
+
+"Callate we do," answered Ephraim.  "I'll go so far as to say there
+hain't nobody I'd ruther see you marry.  Guess I'll hev to go back to the
+kit, now.  What's to become of the old pensioner, Cynthy?"
+
+"The old pensioner needn't worry," said Cynthia.
+
+Then drove up Silas the Silent, with Bob's buggy and his black trotters.
+All of Brampton might see them now; and all of Brampton did see them.
+Silas got out,--his presence not being required,--and Cynthia was helped
+in, and Bob got in beside her, and away they went, leaving Ephraim waving
+his stick after them from the doorstep.
+
+It is recorded against the black trotters that they made very poor time
+to Coniston that day, though I cannot discover that either of them was
+lame.  Lem Hallowell, who was there nearly an hour ahead of them,
+declares that the off horse had a bunch of branches in his mouth.
+Perhaps Bob held them in on account of the scenery that September
+afternoon.  Incomparable scenery!  I doubt if two lovers of the
+renaissance ever wandered through a more wondrous realm of pleasance--
+to quote the words of the poet.  Spots in it are like a park, laid out by
+that peerless landscape gardener, nature: dark, symmetrical pine trees on
+the sward, and maples in the fulness of their leaf, and great oaks on the
+hillsides, and, coppices; and beyond, the mountain, the evergreens massed
+like cloud-shadows on its slopes; and all-trees and coppice and mountain
+--flattened by the haze until they seemed woven in the softest of blues
+and blue greens into one exquisite picture of an ancient tapestry.
+I, myself, have seen these pictures in that country, and marvelled.
+
+So they drove on through that realm, which was to be their realm, and
+came all too soon to Coniston green.  Lem Hallowell had spread the well-
+nigh incredible news, that Cynthia Wetherell was to marry the son of the
+mill-owner and railroad president of Brampton, and it seemed to Cynthia
+that every man and woman and child of the village was gathered at the
+store.  Although she loved them, every one, she whispered something to
+Bob when she caught sight of that group on the platform, and he spoke to
+the trotters.  Thus it happened that they flew by, and were at the
+tannery house before they knew it; and Cynthia, all unaided, sprang out
+of the buggy and ran in, alone.  She found Jethro sitting outside of the
+kitchen door with a volume on his knee, and she saw that the print of it
+was large, and she knew that the book was "Robinson Crusoe."
+
+Cynthia knelt down on the grass beside him and caught his hands in hers.
+
+"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I am going to marry Bob Worthington."
+
+"Yes, Cynthy," he answered.  And taking the initiative for the first time
+in his life, he stooped down and kissed her.
+
+"I knew--you would be happy--in my happiness," she said, the tears
+brimming in her eyes.
+
+"N-never have been so happy, Cynthy,--never have."
+
+"Uncle Jethro, I never will desert you.  I shall always take care of
+you."
+
+"R-read to me sometimes, Cynthy--r-read to me?"
+
+But she could not answer him.  She was sobbing on the pages of that book
+he had given her--long ago.
+
+I like to dwell on happiness, and I am reluctant to leave these people
+whom I have grown to love.  Jethro Bass lived to take Cynthia's children
+down by the brook and to show them the pictures, at least, in that
+wonderful edition of "Robinson Crusoe."  He would never depart from the
+tannery house, but Cynthia went to him there, many times a week.  There
+is a spot not far from the Coniston road, and five miles distant alike
+from Brampton and Coniston, where Bob Worthington built his house, and
+where he and Cynthia dwelt many years; and they go there to this day, in
+the summer-time.  It stands in the midst of broad lands, and the ground
+in front of it slopes down to Coniston Water, artificially widened here
+by a stone dam into a little lake.  From the balcony of the summer-house
+which overhangs the lake there is a wonderful view of Coniston Mountain,
+and Cynthia Worthington often sits there with her sewing or her book,
+listening to the laughter of her children, and thinking, sometimes, of
+bygone days.
+
+
+
+
+AFTERWORD
+
+The reality of the foregoing pages has to the author, at least, become so
+vivid that he regrets the necessity of having to add an afterword.  Every
+novel is, to some extent, a compound of truth and fiction, and he has
+done his best to picture conditions as they were, and to make the spirit
+of his book true.  Certain people who were living in St. Louis during the
+Civil War have been mentioned as the originals of characters in "The
+Crisis," and there are houses in that city which have been pointed out as
+fitting descriptions in that novel.  An author has, frequently, people,
+houses, and localities in mind when he writes; but he changes them,
+sometimes very materially, in the process of literary construction.
+
+It is inevitable, perhaps, that many people of a certain New England
+state will recognize Jethro Bass.  There are different opinions extant
+concerning the remarkable original of this character; ardent defenders
+and detractors of his are still living, but all agree that he was a
+strange man of great power.  The author disclaims any intention of
+writing a biography of him.  Some of the things set down in this book he
+did, and others he did not do.  Some of the anecdotes here related
+concerning him are, in the main, true, and for this material the author
+acknowledges his indebtedness particularly to Colonel Thomas B. Cheney
+of Ashland, New Hampshire, and to other friends who have helped him.
+Jethro Bass was typical of his Era, and it is of the Era that this book
+attempts to treat.
+
+Concerning the locality where Jethro Bass was born and lived, it will and
+will not be recognized.  It would have been the extreme of bad taste to
+have put into these pages any portraits which might have offended
+families or individuals, and in order that it may be known that the
+author has not done so he has written this Afterword.  Nor has he
+particularly chosen for the field of this novel a state of which he is a
+citizen, and for which he has a sincere affection.  The conditions here
+depicted, while retaining the characteristics of the locality, he
+believes to be typical of the Era over a large part of the United States.
+
+Many of the Puritans who came to New England were impelled to emigrate
+from the old country, no doubt, by an aversion to pulling the forelock as
+well as by religious principles, and the spirit of these men prevailed
+for a certain time after the Revolution was fought.  Such men lived and
+ruled in Coniston before the rise of Jethro Bass.
+
+Self-examination is necessary for the moral health of nations as well as
+men, and it is the most hopeful of signs that in the United States we are
+to-day going through a period of self-examination.
+
+We shall do well to ascertain the causes which have led us gradually to
+stray from the political principles laid down by our forefathers for all
+the world to see.  Some of us do not even know what those principles
+were.  I have met many intelligent men, in different states of the Union,
+who could not even repeat the names of the senators who sat for them in
+Congress.  Macaulay said, in 1852, "We now know, by the clearest of all
+proof, that universal suffrage, even united with secret voting, is no
+security, against the establishment of arbitrary power."  To quote James
+Russell Lowell, writing a little later: "We have begun obscurely to
+recognize that . . . popular government is not in itself a panacea, is no
+better than any other form except as the virtue and wisdom of the people
+make it so."
+
+As Americans, we cannot but believe that our political creed goes down in
+its foundations to the solid rock of truth.  One of the best reasons for
+our belief lies in the fact that, since 1776, government after government
+has imitated our example.  We have, by our very existence and rise to
+power, made any decided retrogression from these doctrines impossible.
+So many people have tried to rule themselves, and are still trying, that
+one begins to believe that the time is not far distant when the United
+States, once the most radical, will become the most conservative of
+nations.
+
+Thus the duty rests to-day, more heavily than ever, upon each American
+citizen to make good to the world those principles upon which his
+government was built.  To use a figure suggested by the calamity which
+has lately befallen one of the most beloved of our cities, there is a
+theory that earthquakes are caused by a necessary movement on the part of
+the globe to regain its axis.  Whether or not the theory be true, it has
+its political application.  In America to-day we are trying--whatever the
+cost--to regain the true axis established for us by the founders of our
+Republic.
+
+HARLAKENDEN HOUSE, May 7, 1906.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+But I wanted to be happy as long as I could
+Even old people may have an ideal
+Every novel is, to some extent, a compound of truth and fiction
+Life had made a woman of her long ago
+Not that I've anything against her personally--
+Stray from the political principles laid down by our forefathers
+The one precious gift of life
+Though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, V4
+by Winston Churchill
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS FOR THE ENTIRE SET:
+
+Books she had known from her earliest infancy
+But I wanted to be happy as long as I could
+Curiosity as a factor has never, perhaps, been given its proper weight
+Even old people may have an ideal
+Every novel is, to some extent, a compound of truth and fiction
+Fond of her, although she was no more than an episode in his life
+Giant pines that gave many a mast to King George's navy
+Had exhausted the resources of the little school
+He hain't be'n eddicated a great deal
+Life had made a woman of her long ago
+Not that I've anything against her personally--
+Pious belief in democracy, but with a firmer determination to get on top
+Riddle he could not solve--one that was best left alone
+Stray from the political principles laid down by our forefathers
+That which is the worst cruelty of all--the cruelty of selfishness
+The home is the very foundation-rock of the nation
+The old soldier found dependence hard to bear
+The one precious gift of life
+They don't take notice of him, because he don't say much
+Though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady
+We know nothing of their problems or temptations
+
+
+
+
+End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, Complete
+by Winston Churchill
+