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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Crux + +Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +Release Date: January 11, 2012 [EBook #38551] + +Most recently updated: October 28, 2022 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + + + + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<pre> + +</pre> + + +<div class="center" style="margin: auto; max-width: 40em;"> + +<!-- Start Main body of work --> + +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> +<!-- *************************** ***************************** --> +<!-- *************************** MAIN BODY OF WORK ***************************** --> +<!-- *************************** ***************************** --> +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> + + + +<!-- cover art --> + +<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="600" alt="Book Cover" /> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span> +--> + +<!-- Title Page --> +<br /> + +<h1>THE CRUX</h1> +<br /> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span> +--> + +<br /> +<br /> +<h2><a name="Books_by_Charlotte_Perkins_Gilman" id="Books_by_Charlotte_Perkins_Gilman"></a><span class="smcap">Books by Charlotte Perkins Gilman</span></h2> + +<table summary="Books and Prices"> + + <tr><td align="left">Women and Economics</td><td align="right"> $1.50</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Concerning Children</td><td align="right"> 1.25</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">In This Our World (verse)</td><td align="right"> 1.25</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Yellow Wallpaper (story) </td><td align="right"> 0.50</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Home</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Human Work </td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">What Diantha Did (novel)</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Man-Made World; or, Our Androcentric Culture </td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Moving the Mountain</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Crux</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Suffrage Songs </td><td align="right"> 0.10</td></tr> + +</table> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span> +--> + +<h1><span class="smcap">The Crux</span></h1> + +<br /> +<h3>A NOVEL</h3> +<h5>BY</h5> +<h3>CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN</h3> +<br /> +<br /> +<h6>CHARLTON COMPANY<br /> +NEW YORK<br /> +1911</h6> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> +--> + +<h6>Copyright, 1911<br /> +by<br /> +Charlotte Perkins Gilman</h6> +<br /> +<br /> +<h6>THE CO-OPERATIVE PRESS, 15 SPRUCE STREET, NEW YORK</h6> + +<!-- Begin visible page numbering --> +<hr class="chap" /><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> + + + + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p>This story is, first, for young women +to read; second, for young men to +read; after that, for anybody who +wants to. Anyone who doubts its facts and +figures is referred to "Social Diseases and +Marriage," by Dr. Prince Morrow, or to +"Hygiene and Morality," by Miss Lavinia +Dock, a trained nurse of long experience.</p> + +<p>Some will hold that the painful facts disclosed +are unfit for young girls to know. +Young girls are precisely the ones who must +know them, in order that they may protect +themselves and their children to come. The +time to know of danger is before it is too +late to avoid it.</p> + +<p>If some say "Innocence is the greatest +charm of young girls," the answer is, "What +good does it do them?"</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!-- remove comment to display page number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> +--> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> + + + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table border="0" summary="Table of Contents"> + + <tr> + <td align="right"> + <span style="font-size: 75%">CHAPTER</span> + </td> + <td align="left"> + + </td> + <td align="right"> + + + + + + <span style="font-size: 75%">PAGE</span> + </td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="right"> I. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">The Back Way</a></span></td> + <td align="right">9</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> II. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Bainville Effects</a></span></td> + <td align="right">31</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> III. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"> <a href="#CHAPTER_III">The Outbreak</a></span></td> + <td align="right">60</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> IV. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Transplanted</a></span></td> + <td align="right">81</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> V. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Contrasts</a></span></td> + <td align="right">101</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> VI. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">New Friends and Old</a></span></td> + <td align="right">126</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> VII. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Side Lights</a></span></td> + <td align="right">149</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right">VIII. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">A Mixture</a></span></td> + <td align="right">174</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> IX. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Consequences</a></span></td> + <td align="right">204</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> X. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Determination</a></span></td> + <td align="right">229</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> XI. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Thereafter</a></span></td> + <td align="right">256</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> XII. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Achievements</a></span></td> + <td align="right">283</td> + </tr> + + </table> +<hr class="chap" /><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> + + + + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left: 20%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Who should know but the woman?—The young wife-to-be?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Whose whole life hangs on the choice;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To her the ruin, the misery;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>To her, the deciding voice.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Who should know but the woman?—The mother-to-be?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Guardian, Giver, and Guide;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>If she may not foreknow, forejudge and foresee,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>What safety has childhood beside?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Who should know but the woman?—The girl in her youth?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>The hour of the warning is then,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That, strong in her knowledge and free in her truth,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>She may build a new race of new men.</i><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span></div></div> + + +<hr class="chap" /><h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE BACK WAY</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:35%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the same old garden path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet with the same old flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the lilacs, darkly dense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The easy gate in the backyard fence—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those unforgotten hours!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The "Foote Girls" were bustling +along Margate Street with an air +of united purpose that was unusual +with them. Miss Rebecca wore her black +silk cloak, by which it might be seen that +"a call" was toward. Miss Josie, the thin +sister, and Miss Sallie, the fat one, were +more hastily attired. They were persons +of less impressiveness than Miss Rebecca, +as was tacitly admitted by their more +familiar nicknames, a concession never made +by the older sister.</p> + +<p>Even Miss Rebecca was hurrying a little, +for her, but the others were swifter and +more impatient.</p> + +<p>"Do come on, Rebecca. Anybody'd think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> +you were eighty instead of fifty!" said Miss +Sallie.</p> + +<p>"There's Mrs. Williams going in! I +wonder if she's heard already. Do hurry!" +urged Miss Josie.</p> + +<p>But Miss Rebecca, being concerned about +her dignity, would not allow herself to be +hustled, and the three proceeded in irregular +order under the high-arched elms and +fence-topping syringas of the small New +England town toward the austere home of +Mr. Samuel Lane.</p> + +<p>It was a large, uncompromising, square, +white house, planted starkly in the close-cut +grass. It had no porch for summer lounging, +no front gate for evening dalliance, no +path-bordering beds of flowers from which +to pluck a hasty offering or more redundant +tribute. The fragrance which surrounded it +came from the back yard, or over the fences +of neighbors; the trees which waved greenly +about it were the trees of other people. Mr. +Lane had but two trees, one on each side of +the straight and narrow path, evenly placed +between house and sidewalk—evergreens.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane received them amiably; the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +minister's new wife, Mrs. Williams, was +proving a little difficult to entertain. She +was from Cambridge, Mass., and emanated +a restrained consciousness of that fact. Mr. +Lane rose stiffly and greeted them. He did +not like the Foote girls, not having the usual +American's share of the sense of humor. He +had no enjoyment of the town joke, as old +as they were, that "the three of them made +a full yard;" and had frowned down as a +profane impertinent the man—a little sore +under some effect of gossip—who had +amended it with "make an 'ell, I say."</p> + +<p>Safely seated in their several rocking +chairs, and severally rocking them, the +Misses Foote burst forth, as was their custom, +in simultaneous, though by no means +identical remarks.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you've heard about Morton +Elder?"</p> + +<p>"What do you think Mort Elder's been +doing now?"</p> + +<p>"We've got bad news for poor Miss +Elder!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane was intensely interested. Even +Mr. Lane showed signs of animation.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> + +<p>"I'm not surprised," he said.</p> + +<p>"He's done it now," opined Miss Josie +with conviction. "I always said Rella Elder +was spoiling that boy."</p> + +<p>"It's too bad—after all she's done for +him! He always was a scamp!" Thus Miss +Sallie.</p> + +<p>"I've been afraid of it all along," Miss +Rebecca was saying, her voice booming +through the lighter tones of her sisters. "I +always said he'd never get through college."</p> + +<p>"But who is Morton Elder, and what has +he done?" asked Mrs. Williams as soon as +she could be heard.</p> + +<p>This lady now proved a most valuable +asset. She was so new to the town, and had +been so immersed in the suddenly widening +range of her unsalaried duties as "minister's +wife," that she had never even heard of +Morton Elder.</p> + +<p>A new resident always fans the languishing +flame of local conversation. The whole +shopworn stock takes on a fresh lustre, +topics long trampled flat in much discussion +lift their heads anew, opinions one scarce +dared to repeat again become almost author<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span>itative, +old stories flourish freshly, acquiring +new detail and more vivid color.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane, seizing her opportunity while +the sisters gasped a momentary amazement +at anyone's not knowing the town scapegrace, +and taking advantage of her position +as old friend and near neighbor of the family +under discussion, swept into the field +under such headway that even the Foote +girls remained silent perforce; surcharged, +however, and holding their breaths in readiness +to burst forth at the first opening.</p> + +<p>"He's the nephew—orphan nephew—of +Miss Elder—who lives right back of us—our +yards touch—we've always been friends—went +to school together, Rella's never +married—she teaches, you know—and her +brother—he owned the home—it's all hers +now, he died all of a sudden and left two +children—Morton and Susie. Mort was +about seven years old and Susie just a baby. +He's been an awful cross—but she just idolizes +him—she's spoiled him, I tell her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane had to breathe, and even the +briefest pause left her stranded to wait +another chance. The three social benefac<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span>tors +proceeded to distribute their information +in a clattering torrent. They sought to +inform Mrs. Williams in especial, of numberless +details of the early life and education +of their subject, matters which would +have been treated more appreciatively if +they had not been blessed with the later +news; and, at the same time, each was seeking +for a more dramatic emphasis to give +this last supply of incident with due effect.</p> + +<p>No regular record is possible where three +persons pour forth statement and comment +in a rapid, tumultuous stream, interrupted +by cross currents of heated contradiction, +and further varied by the exclamations and +protests of three hearers, or at least, of two; +for the one man present soon relapsed into +disgusted silence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams, turning a perplexed face +from one to the other, inwardly condemning +the darkening flood of talk, yet conscious +of a sinful pleasure in it, and anxious +as a guest, <i>and</i> a minister's wife, to be most +amiable, felt like one watching three kinetescopes +at once. She saw, in confused pictures +of blurred and varying outline, Orella<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> +Elder, the young New England girl, only +eighteen, already a "school ma'am," suddenly +left with two children to bring up, +and doing it, as best she could. She saw the +boy, momentarily changing, in his shuttlecock +flight from mouth to mouth, through +pale shades of open mischief to the black +and scarlet of hinted sin, the terror of the +neighborhood, the darling of his aunt, +clever, audacious, scandalizing the quiet +town.</p> + +<p>"Boys are apt to be mischievous, aren't +they?" she suggested when it was possible.</p> + +<p>"He's worse than mischievous," Mr. Lane +assured her sourly. "There's a mean streak +in that family."</p> + +<p>"That's on his mother's side," Mrs. Lane +hastened to add. "She was a queer girl—came +from New York."</p> + +<p>The Foote girls began again, with rich +profusion of detail, their voices rising shrill, +one above the other, and playing together +at their full height like emulous fountains.</p> + +<p>"We ought not to judge, you know;" +urged Mrs. Williams. "What do you say +he's really done?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span></p> + +<p>Being sifted, it appeared that this last +and most terrible performance was to go to +"the city" with a group of "the worst boys +of college," to get undeniably drunk, to do +some piece of mischief. (Here was great +licence in opinion, and in contradiction.)</p> + +<p>"<i>Anyway</i> he's to be suspended!" said +Miss Rebecca with finality.</p> + +<p>"Suspended!" Miss Josie's voice rose in +scorn. "<i>Expelled!</i> They said he was expelled."</p> + +<p>"In disgrace!" added Miss Sallie.</p> + +<p>Vivian Lane sat in the back room at the +window, studying in the lingering light of +the long June evening. At least, she appeared +to be studying. Her tall figure was +bent over her books, but the dark eyes blazed +under their delicate level brows, and her +face flushed and paled with changing feelings.</p> + +<p>She had heard—who, in the same house, +could escape hearing the Misses Foote?—and +had followed the torrent of description, +hearsay, surmise and allegation with +an interest that was painful in its intensity.</p> + +<p>"It's a <i>shame</i>!" she whispered under her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> +breath. "A <i>shame</i>! And nobody to stand +up for him!"</p> + +<p>She half rose to her feet as if to do it +herself, but sank back irresolutely.</p> + +<p>A fresh wave of talk rolled forth.</p> + +<p>"It'll half kill his aunt."</p> + +<p>"Poor Miss Elder! I don't know what +she'll do!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what <i>he'll</i> do. He can't go +back to college."</p> + +<p>"He'll have to go to work."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know where—nobody'd hire +him in this town."</p> + +<p>The girl could bear it no longer. She +came to the door, and there, as they paused +to speak to her, her purpose ebbed again.</p> + +<p>"My daughter, Vivian, Mrs. Williams," +said her mother; and the other callers +greeted her familiarly.</p> + +<p>"You'd better finish your lessons, Vivian," +Mr. Lane suggested.</p> + +<p>"I have, father," said the girl, and took +a chair by the minister's wife. She +had a vague feeling that if she were +there, they would not talk so about Morton +Elder.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams hailed the interruption +gratefully. She liked the slender girl with +the thoughtful eyes and pretty, rather pathetic +mouth, and sought to draw her out. +But her questions soon led to unfortunate +results.</p> + +<p>"You are going to college, I suppose?" +she presently inquired; and Vivian owned +that it was the desire of her heart.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said her father. "Stuff and +nonsense, Vivian! You're not going to college."</p> + +<p>The Foote girls now burst forth in voluble +agreement with Mr. Lane. His wife +was evidently of the same mind; and Mrs. +Williams plainly regretted her question. +But Vivian mustered courage enough to +make a stand, strengthened perhaps by the +depth of the feeling which had brought her +into the room.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you're all so down on +a girl's going to college. Eve Marks has +gone, and Mary Spring is going—and both +the Austin girls. Everybody goes now."</p> + +<p>"I know one girl that won't," was her +father's incisive comment, and her mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +said quietly, "A girl's place is at home—'till +she marries."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I don't want to marry?" said +Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense," her father answered. +"Marriage is a woman's duty."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to do?" asked Miss +Josie in the interests of further combat. +"Do you want to be a doctor, like Jane +Bellair?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to very much indeed," said +the girl with quiet intensity. "I'd like to +be a doctor in a babies' hospital."</p> + +<p>"More nonsense," said Mr. Lane. "Don't +talk to me about that woman! You attend +to your studies, and then to your home +duties, my dear."</p> + +<p>The talk rose anew, the three sisters contriving +all to agree with Mr. Lane in his +opinions about college, marriage and Dr. +Bellair, yet to disagree violently among +themselves.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams rose to go, and in the lull +that followed the liquid note of a whippoorwill +met the girl's quick ear. She quietly +slipped out, unnoticed.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> + +<p>The Lane's home stood near the outer +edge of the town, with an outlook across +wide meadows and soft wooded hills. Behind, +their long garden backed on that of +Miss Orella Elder, with a connecting gate +in the gray board fence. Mrs. Lane had +grown up here. The house belonged to her +mother, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, though +that able lady was seldom in it, preferring +to make herself useful among two growing +sets of grandchildren.</p> + +<p>Miss Elder was Vivian's favorite teacher. +She was a careful and conscientious instructor, +and the girl was a careful and conscientious +scholar; so they got on admirably +together; indeed, there was a real affection +between them. And just as the young +Laura Pettigrew had played with the +younger Orella Elder, so Vivian had played +with little Susie Elder, Miss Orella's orphan +niece. Susie regarded the older girl with +worshipful affection, which was not at all +unpleasant to an emotional young creature +with unemotional parents, and no brothers +or sisters of her own.</p> + +<p>Moreover, Susie was Morton's sister.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></p> + +<p>The whippoorwill's cry sounded again +through the soft June night. Vivian came +quickly down the garden path between the +bordering beds of sweet alyssum and mignonette. +A dew-wet rose brushed against +her hand. She broke it off, pricking her +fingers, and hastily fastened it in the bosom +of her white frock.</p> + +<p>Large old lilac bushes hung over the dividing +fence, a thick mass of honeysuckle +climbed up by the gate and mingled with +them, spreading over to a pear tree on the +Lane side. In this fragrant, hidden corner +was a rough seat, and from it a boy's hand +reached out and seized the girl's, drawing her +down beside him. She drew away from him +as far as the seat allowed.</p> + +<p>"Oh Morton!" she said. "What have you +done?"</p> + +<p>Morton was sulky.</p> + +<p>"Now Vivian, are you down on me too? +I thought I had one friend."</p> + +<p>"You ought to tell me," she said more +gently. "How can I be your friend if I don't +know the facts? They are saying perfectly +awful things."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who are?"</p> + +<p>"Why—the Foote girls—everybody."</p> + +<p>"Oh those old maids aren't everybody, I +assure you. You see, Vivian, you live right +here in this old oyster of a town—and you +make mountains out of molehills like everybody +else. A girl of your intelligence ought +to know better."</p> + +<p>She drew a great breath of relief. "Then +you haven't—done it?"</p> + +<p>"Done what? What's all this mysterious +talk anyhow? The prisoner has a right to +know what he's charged with before he commits +himself."</p> + +<p>The girl was silent, finding it difficult to +begin.</p> + +<p>"Well, out with it. What do they say I +did?" He picked up a long dry twig and +broke it, gradually, into tiny, half-inch bits.</p> + +<p>"They say you—went to the city—with a +lot of the worst boys in college——"</p> + +<p>"Well? Many persons go to the city +every day. That's no crime, surely. As for +'the worst boys in college,'"—he laughed +scornfully—"I suppose those old ladies +think if a fellow smokes a cigarette or says<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> +'darn' he's a tough. They're mighty nice +fellows, that bunch—most of 'em. Got some +ginger in 'em, that's all. What else?"</p> + +<p>"They say—you drank."</p> + +<p>"O ho! Said I got drunk, I warrant! +Well—we did have a skate on that time, I +admit!" And he laughed as if this charge +were but a familiar joke.</p> + +<p>"Why Morton Elder! I think it is a—disgrace!"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, Vivian!—You ought to have +more sense. All the fellows get gay once in +a while. A college isn't a young ladies' +seminary."</p> + +<p>He reached out and got hold of her hand +again, but she drew it away.</p> + +<p>"There was something else," she said.</p> + +<p>"What was it?" he questioned sharply. +"What did they say?"</p> + +<p>But she would not satisfy him—perhaps +could not.</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd be ashamed, to make +your aunt so much trouble. They said you +were suspended—or—<i>expelled</i>!"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his big shoulders and threw +away the handful of broken twigs.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's true enough—I might as well admit +that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>Morton</i>!—I didn't believe it. <i>Expelled!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, expelled—turned down—thrown +out—fired! And I'm glad of it." He +leaned back against the fence and whistled +very softly through his teeth.</p> + +<p>"Sh! Sh!" she urged. "Please!"</p> + +<p>He was quiet.</p> + +<p>"But Morton—what are you going to do?—Won't +it spoil your career?"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear little girl, it will not!" said +he. "On the contrary, it will be the making +of me. I tell you, Vivian, I'm sick to death +of this town of maiden ladies—and 'good +family men.' I'm sick of being fussed over +for ever and ever, and having wristers and +mufflers knitted for me—and being told to +put on my rubbers! There's no fun in this +old clamshell—this kitchen-midden of a town—and +I'm going to quit it."</p> + +<p>He stood up and stretched his long arms. +"I'm going to quit it for good and all."</p> + +<p>The girl sat still, her hands gripping the +seat on either side.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" she asked in a +low voice.</p> + +<p>"I'm going west—clear out west. I've +been talking with Aunt Rella about it. Dr. +Bellair'll help me to a job, she thinks. She's +awful cut up, of course. I'm sorry she feels +bad—but she needn't, I tell her. I shall do +better there than I ever should have here. +I know a fellow that left college—his father +failed—and he went into business and made +two thousand dollars in a year. I always +wanted to take up business—you know +that!"</p> + +<p>She knew it—he had talked of it freely +before they had argued and persuaded him +into the college life. She knew, too, how +his aunt's hopes all centered in him, and in +his academic honors and future professional +life. "Business," to his aunt's mind, was a +necessary evil, which could at best be undertaken +only after a "liberal education."</p> + +<p>"When are you going," she asked at +length.</p> + +<p>"Right off—to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She gave a little gasp.</p> + +<p>"That's what I was whippoorwilling about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span>—I +knew I'd get no other chance to talk to +you—I wanted to say good-by, you know."</p> + +<p>The girl sat silent, struggling not to cry. +He dropped beside her, stole an arm about +her waist, and felt her tremble.</p> + +<p>"Now, Viva, don't you go and cry! I'm +sorry—I really am sorry—to make <i>you</i> feel +bad."</p> + +<p>This was too much for her, and she sobbed +frankly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Morton! How could you! How +could you!—And now you've got to go +away!"</p> + +<p>"There now—don't cry—sh!—they'll hear +you."</p> + +<p>She did hush at that.</p> + +<p>"And don't feel so bad—I'll come back +some time—to see you."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't!" she answered with sudden +fierceness. "You'll just go—and stay—and +I never shall see you again!"</p> + +<p>He drew her closer to him. "And do you +care—so much—Viva?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I care!" she said, "Haven't +we always been friends, the best of friends?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—you and Aunt Rella have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> +about all I had," he admitted with a cheerful +laugh. "I hope I'll make more friends out +yonder. But Viva,"—his hand pressed +closer—"is it only—friends?"</p> + +<p>She took fright at once and drew +away from him. "You mustn't do that, +Morton!"</p> + +<p>"Do what?" A shaft of moonlight shone +on his teasing face. "What am I doing?" +he said.</p> + +<p>It is difficult—it is well nigh impossible—for +a girl to put a name to certain small cuddlings +not in themselves terrifying, nor even +unpleasant, but which she obscurely feels to +be wrong.</p> + +<p>Viva flushed and was silent—he could see +the rich color flood her face.</p> + +<p>"Come now—don't be hard on a fellow!" +he urged. "I shan't see you again in ever so +long. You'll forget all about me before a +year's over."</p> + +<p>She shook her head, still silent.</p> + +<p>"Won't you speak to me—Viva?"</p> + +<p>"I wish——" She could not find the +words she wanted. "Oh, I wish you—wouldn't!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wouldn't what, Girlie? Wouldn't go +away? Sorry to disoblige—but I have to. +There's no place for me here."</p> + +<p>The girl felt the sad truth of that.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Rella will get used to it after a +while. I'll write to her—I'll make lots of +money—and come back in a few years—astonish +you all!—Meanwhile—kiss me good-by, +Viva!"</p> + +<p>She drew back shyly. She had never +kissed him. She had never in her life kissed +any man younger than an uncle.</p> + +<p>"No, Morton—you mustn't——" She +shrank away into the shadow.</p> + +<p>But, there was no great distance to shrink +to, and his strong arms soon drew her close +again.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you never see me again," he +said. "Then you'll wish you hadn't been so +stiff about it."</p> + +<p>She thought of this dread possibility with +a sudden chill of horror, and while she hesitated, +he took her face between his hands +and kissed her on the mouth.</p> + +<p>Steps were heard coming down the +path.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> + +<p>"They're on," he said with a little laugh. +"Good-by, Viva!"</p> + +<p>He vaulted the fence and was gone.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here, Vivian?" demanded +her father.</p> + +<p>"I was saying good-by to Morton," she +answered with a sob.</p> + +<p>"You ought to be ashamed of yourself—philandering +out here in the middle of the +night with that scapegrace! Come in the +house and go to bed at once—it's ten +o'clock."</p> + +<p>Bowing to this confused but almost +equally incriminating chronology, she followed +him in, meekly enough as to her outward +seeming, but inwardly in a state of +stormy tumult.</p> + +<p>She had been kissed!</p> + +<p>Her father's stiff back before her could +not blot out the radiant, melting moonlight, +the rich sweetness of the flowers, the tender, +soft, June night.</p> + +<p>"You go to bed," said he once more. "I'm +ashamed of you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father," she answered.</p> + +<p>Her little room, when at last she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> +safely in it and had shut the door and put a +chair against it—she had no key—seemed +somehow changed.</p> + +<p>She lit the lamp and stood looking at herself +in the mirror. Her eyes were star-bright. +Her cheeks flamed softly. Her mouth looked +guilty and yet glad.</p> + +<p>She put the light out and went to the +window, kneeling there, leaning out in the +fragrant stillness, trying to arrange in her +mind this mixture of grief, disapproval, +shame and triumph.</p> + +<p>When the Episcopal church clock struck +eleven, she went to bed in guilty haste, but +not to sleep.</p> + +<p>For a long time she lay there watching +the changing play of moonlight on the floor.</p> + +<p>She felt almost as if she were married.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>BAINVILLE EFFECTS.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lockstep, handcuffs, ankle-ball-and-chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dulltoil and dreary food and drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small cell, cold cell, narrow bed and hard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High wall, thick wall, window iron-barred;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stone-paved, stone-pent little prison yard—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young hearts weary of monotony and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young hearts weary of reiterant refrain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They say—they do—what will people think?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>At the two front windows of their +rather crowded little parlor sat +Miss Rebecca and Miss Josie +Foote, Miss Sallie being out on a foraging +expedition—marketing, as it were, among +their neighbors to collect fresh food for +thought.</p> + +<p>A tall, slender girl in brown passed on the +opposite walk.</p> + +<p>"I should think Vivian Lane would get +tired of wearing brown," said Miss Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why she should," her sister +promptly protested, "it's a good enough +wearing color, and becoming to her."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span></p> + +<p>"She could afford to have more variety," +said Miss Rebecca. "The Lanes are mean +enough about some things, but I know they'd +like to have her dress better. She'll never +get married in the world."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why not. She's only +twenty-five—and good-looking."</p> + +<p>"Good-looking! That's not everything. +Plenty of girls marry that are not good-looking—and +plenty of good-looking girls +stay single."</p> + +<p>"Plenty of homely ones, too. Rebecca," +said Miss Josie, with meaning. Miss Rebecca +certainly was not handsome. "Going +to the library, of course!" she pursued presently. +"That girl reads all the time."</p> + +<p>"So does her grandmother. I see her going +and coming from that library every day +almost."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well—she reads stories and things +like that. Sallie goes pretty often and she +notices. We use that library enough, goodness +knows, but they are there every day. +Vivian Lane reads the queerest things—doctor's +books and works on pedagoggy."</p> + +<p>"Godgy," said Miss Rebecca, "not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +goggy." And as her sister ignored this correction, +she continued: "They might as well +have let her go to college when she was so +set on it."</p> + +<p>"College! I don't believe she'd have +learned as much in any college, from what +I hear of 'em, as she has in all this time at +home." The Foote girls had never entertained +a high opinion of extensive culture.</p> + +<p>"I don't see any use in a girl's studying so +much," said Miss Rebecca with decision.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," agreed Miss Josie. "Men don't +like learned women."</p> + +<p>"They don't seem to always like those +that aren't learned, either," remarked Miss +Rebecca with a pleasant sense of retribution +for that remark about "homely ones."</p> + +<p>The tall girl in brown had seen the two +faces at the windows opposite, and had held +her shoulders a little straighter as she turned +the corner.</p> + +<p>"Nine years this Summer since Morton +Elder went West," murmured Miss Josie, +reminiscently. "I shouldn't wonder if Vivian +had stayed single on his account."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" her sister answered sharply.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +"She's not that kind. She's not popular +with men, that's all. She's too intellectual."</p> + +<p>"She ought to be in the library instead of +Sue Elder," Miss Rebecca suggested. "She's +far more competent. Sue's a feather-headed +little thing."</p> + +<p>"She seems to give satisfaction so far. +If the trustees are pleased with her, there's +no reason for you to complain that I see," +said Miss Rebecca with decision.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Vivian Lane waited at the library desk +with an armful of books to take home. She +had her card, her mother's and her father's—all +utilized. Her grandmother kept her +own card—and her own counsel.</p> + +<p>The pretty assistant librarian, withdrawing +herself with some emphasis from the +unnecessary questions of a too gallant old +gentleman, came to attend her.</p> + +<p>"You <i>have</i> got a load," she said, scribbling +complex figures with one end of her hammer-headed +pencil, and stamping violet dates +with the other. She whisked out the pale +blue slips from the lid pockets, dropped +them into their proper openings in the desk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +and inserted the cards in their stead with +delicate precision.</p> + +<p>"Can't you wait a bit and go home +with me?" she asked. "I'll help you carry +them."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I'm not going right +home."</p> + +<p>"You're going to see your Saint—I +know!" said Miss Susie, tossing her bright +head. "I'm jealous, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a goose, Susie! You know +you're my very best friend, but—she's different."</p> + +<p>"I should think she was different!" Susie +sharply agreed. "And you've been 'different' +ever since she came."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said Vivian gravely. "Mrs. +St. Cloud brings out one's very best and +highest. I wish you liked her better, Susie."</p> + +<p>"I like you," Susie answered. "You bring +out my 'best and highest'—if I've got any. +She don't. She's like a lovely, faint, bright—bubble! +I want to prick it!"</p> + +<p>Vivian smiled down upon her.</p> + +<p>"You bad little mouse!" she said. "Come, +give me the books."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span></p> + +<p>"Leave them with me, and I'll bring them +in the car." Susie looked anxious to make +amends for her bit of blasphemy.</p> + +<p>"All right, dear. Thank you. I'll be +home by that time, probably."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>In the street she stopped before a little +shop where papers and magazines were sold.</p> + +<p>"I believe Father'd like the new Centurion," +she said to herself, and got it for him, +chatting a little with the one-armed man who +kept the place. She stopped again at a +small florist's and bought a little bag of +bulbs.</p> + +<p>"Your mother's forgotten about those, I +guess," said Mrs. Crothers, the florist's wife, +"but they'll do just as well now. Lucky you +thought of them before it got too late in +the season. Bennie was awfully pleased with +that red and blue pencil you gave him, Miss +Lane."</p> + +<p>Vivian walked on. A child ran out suddenly +from a gate and seized upon her.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you coming in to see me—ever?" +she demanded.</p> + +<p>Vivian stooped and kissed her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, but not to-night. How's that +dear baby getting on?"</p> + +<p>"She's better," said the little girl. "Mother +said thank you—lots of times. Wait a minute—"</p> + +<p>The child fumbled in Vivian's coat pocket +with a mischievous upward glance, fished out +a handful of peanuts, and ran up the path +laughing while the tall girl smiled down upon +her lovingly.</p> + +<p>A long-legged boy was lounging along +the wet sidewalk. Vivian caught up with +him and he joined her with eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Miss Lane. Say—are +you coming to the club to-morrow +night?"</p> + +<p>She smiled cordially.</p> + +<p>"Of course I am, Johnny. I wouldn't +disappoint my boys for anything—nor myself, +either."</p> + +<p>They walked on together chatting until, +at the minister's house, she bade him a +cheery "good-night."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud was at the window pensively +watching the western sky. She saw +the girl coming and let her in with a tender,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> +radiant smile—a lovely being in a most unlovely +room.</p> + +<p>There was a chill refinement above subdued +confusion in that Cambridge-Bainville +parlor, where the higher culture of the +second Mrs. Williams, superimposed upon +the lower culture of the first, as that upon +the varying tastes of a combined ancestry, +made the place somehow suggestive of excavations +at Abydos.</p> + +<p>It was much the kind of parlor Vivian +had been accustomed to from childhood, +but Mrs. St. Cloud was of a type quite new +to her. Clothed in soft, clinging fabrics, +always with a misty, veiled effect to them, +wearing pale amber, large, dull stones of +uncertain shapes, and slender chains that +glittered here and there among her scarfs +and laces, sinking gracefully among deep +cushions, even able to sink gracefully into +a common Bainville chair—this beautiful +woman had captured the girl's imagination +from the first.</p> + +<p>Clearly known, she was a sister of Mrs. +Williams, visiting indefinitely. Vaguely—and +very frequently—hinted, her husband<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +had "left her," and "she did not believe in +divorce." Against her background of dumb +patience, he shone darkly forth as A Brute +of unknown cruelties. Nothing against him +would she ever say, and every young masculine +heart yearned to make life brighter to +the Ideal Woman, so strangely neglected; +also some older ones. Her Young Men's +Bible Class was the pride of Mr. Williams' +heart and joy of such young men as the +town possessed; most of Bainville's boys +had gone.</p> + +<p>"A wonderful uplifting influence," Mr. +Williams called her, and refused to say anything, +even when directly approached, as +to "the facts" of her trouble. "It is an old +story," he would say. "She bears up wonderfully. +She sacrifices her life rather than +her principles."</p> + +<p>To Vivian, sitting now on a hassock at +the lady's feet and looking up at her with +adoring eyes, she was indeed a star, a saint, +a cloud of mystery.</p> + +<p>She reached out a soft hand, white, slender, +delicately kept, wearing one thin gold +ring, and stroked the girl's smooth hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> +Vivian seized the hand and kissed it, blushing +as she did so.</p> + +<p>"You foolish child! Don't waste your +young affection on an old lady like me."</p> + +<p>"Old! You! You don't look as old as I +do this minute!" said the girl with hushed +intensity.</p> + +<p>"Life wears on you, I'm afraid, my dear.... +Do you ever hear from him?"</p> + +<p>To no one else, not even to Susie, could +Vivian speak of what now seemed the +tragedy of her lost youth.</p> + +<p>"No," said she. "Never now. He did +write once or twice—at first."</p> + +<p>"He writes to his aunt, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vivian. "But not often. +And he never—says anything."</p> + +<p>"I understand. Poor child! You must +be true, and wait." And the lady turned +the thin ring on her finger. Vivian watched +her in a passion of admiring tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you understand!" she exclaimed. +"You understand!"</p> + +<p>"I understand, my dear," said Mrs. St. +Cloud.</p> + +<p>When Vivian reached her own gate she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> +leaned her arms upon it and looked first one +way and then the other, down the long, still +street. The country was in sight at both +ends—the low, monotonous, wooded hills +that shut them in. It was all familiar, wearingly +familiar. She had known it continuously +for such part of her lifetime as was +sensitive to landscape effects, and had at +times a mad wish for an earthquake to +change the outlines a little.</p> + +<p>The infrequent trolley car passed just +then and Sue Elder joined her, to take the +short cut home through the Lane's yard.</p> + +<p>"Here you are," she said cheerfully, "and +here are the books."</p> + +<p>Vivian thanked her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, say—come in after supper, can't +you? Aunt Rella's had another letter from +Mort."</p> + +<p>Vivian's sombre eyes lit up a little.</p> + +<p>"How's he getting on? In the same business +he was last year?" she asked with an +elaborately cheerful air. Morton had +seemed to change occupations oftener than +he wrote letters.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe so. I guess he's well. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> +never says much, you know. I don't think +it's good for him out there—good for any +boy." And Susie looked quite the older +sister.</p> + +<p>"What are they to do? They can't stay +here."</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose not—but we have to."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair didn't," remarked Vivian. +"I like her—tremendously, don't you?" In +truth, Dr. Bellair was already a close second +to Mrs. St. Cloud in the girl's hero-worshipping +heart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; she's splendid! Aunt Rella is +so glad to have her with us. They have +great times recalling their school days together. +Aunty used to like her then, though +she is five years older—but you'd never +dream it. And I think she's real handsome."</p> + +<p>"She's not beautiful," said Vivian, with +decision, "but she's a lot better. Sue Elder, +I wish——"</p> + +<p>"Wish what?" asked her friend.</p> + +<p>Sue put the books on the gate-post, and +the two girls, arm in arm, walked slowly up +and down.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span></p> + +<p>Susie was a round, palely rosy little person, +with a delicate face and soft, light hair +waving fluffily about her small head. Vivian's +hair was twice the length, but so straight +and fine that its mass had no effect. She +wore it in smooth plaits wound like a wreath +from brow to nape.</p> + +<p>After an understanding silence and a walk +past three gates and back again, Vivian +answered her.</p> + +<p>"I wish I were in your shoes," she said.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—having the Doctor +in the house?"</p> + +<p>"No—I'd like that too; but I mean work +to do—your position."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the library! You needn't; it's horrid. +I wish I were in your shoes, and had +a father and mother to take care of me. I +can tell you, it's no fun—having to be there +just on time or get fined, and having to poke +away all day with those phooty old ladies +and tiresome children."</p> + +<p>"But you're independent."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I'm independent. I have to be. +Aunt Rella <i>could</i> take care of me, I suppose, +but of course I wouldn't let her. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> +I dare say library work is better than school-teaching."</p> + +<p>"What'll we be doing when we're forty, +I wonder?" said Vivian, after another turn.</p> + +<p>"Forty! Why I expect to be a grandma +by that time," said Sue. She was but +twenty-one, and forty looked a long way off +to her.</p> + +<p>"A grandma! And knit?" suggested +Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—baby jackets—and blankets—and +socks—and little shawls. I love to +knit," said Sue, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"But suppose you don't marry?" pursued +her friend.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I shall marry—you see if I don't. +Marriage"—here she carefully went inside +the gate and latched it—"marriage is—a +woman's duty!" And she ran up the path +laughing.</p> + +<p>Vivian laughed too, rather grimly, and +slowly walked towards her own door.</p> + +<p>The little sitting-room was hot, very hot; +but Mr. Lane sat with his carpet-slippered +feet on its narrow hearth with a shawl around +him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></p> + +<p>"Shut the door, Vivian!" he exclaimed +irritably. "I'll never get over this cold if +such draughts are let in on me."</p> + +<p>"Why, it's not cold out, Father—and it's +very close in here."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane looked up from her darning. +"You think it's close because you've come +in from outdoors. Sit down—and don't fret +your father; I'm real worried about +him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lane coughed hollowly. He had become +a little dry old man with gray, glassy +eyes, and had been having colds in this +fashion ever since Vivian could remember.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair says that the out-door air is +the best medicine for a cold," remarked Vivian, +as she took off her things.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair has not been consulted in this +case," her father returned wheezingly. "I'm +quite satisfied with my family physician. +He's a man, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Save me from these women doctors!" +exclaimed his wife.</p> + +<p>Vivian set her lips patiently. She had +long since learned how widely she differed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> +from both father and mother, and preferred +silence to dispute.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lane was a plain, ordinary person, +who spent most of a moderately useful life +in the shoe business, from which he had of +late withdrawn. Both he and his wife "had +property" to a certain extent; and now lived +peacefully on their income with neither fear +nor hope, ambition nor responsibility to +trouble them. The one thing they were yet +anxious about was to see Vivian married, +but this wish seemed to be no nearer to fulfillment +for the passing years.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what the women are thinking +of, these days," went on the old gentleman, +putting another shovelful of coal on the +fire with a careful hand. "Doctors and lawyers +and even ministers, some of 'em! The +Lord certainly set down a woman's duty +pretty plain—she was to cleave unto her +husband!"</p> + +<p>"Some women have no husbands to cleave +to, Father."</p> + +<p>"They'd have husbands fast enough if +they'd behave themselves," he answered. +"No man's going to want to marry one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> +these self-sufficient independent, professional +women, of course."</p> + +<p>"I do hope, Viva," said her mother, "that +you're not letting that Dr. Bellair put foolish +ideas into your head."</p> + +<p>"I want to do something to support myself—sometime, +Mother. I can't live on my +parents forever."</p> + +<p>"You be patient, child. There's money +enough for you to live on. It's a woman's +place to wait," put in Mr. Lane.</p> + +<p>"How long?" inquired Vivian. "I'm +twenty-five. No man has asked me to marry +him yet. Some of the women in this town +have waited thirty—forty—fifty—sixty +years. No one has asked them."</p> + +<p>"I was married at sixteen," suddenly remarked +Vivian's grandmother. "And my +mother wasn't but fifteen. Huh!" A sudden +little derisive noise she made; such as +used to be written "humph!"</p> + +<p>For the past five years, Mrs. Pettigrew +had made her home with the Lanes. Mrs. +Lane herself was but a feeble replica of her +energetic parent. There was but seventeen +years difference in their ages, and compara<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span>tive +idleness with some ill-health on the part +of the daughter, had made the difference +appear less.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew had but a poor opinion of +the present generation. In her active youth +she had reared a large family on a small income; +in her active middle-age, she had +trotted about from daughter's house to son's +house, helping with the grandchildren. And +now she still trotted about in all weathers, +visiting among the neighbors and vibrating +as regularly as a pendulum between her +daughter's house and the public library.</p> + +<p>The books she brought home were mainly +novels, and if she perused anything else in +the severe quiet of the reading-room, she +did not talk about it. Indeed, it was a +striking characteristic of Mrs. Pettigrew +that she talked very little, though she listened +to all that went on with a bright and +beady eye, as of a highly intelligent parrot. +And now, having dropped her single remark +into the conversation, she shut her lips tight +as was her habit, and drew another ball of +worsted from the black bag that always +hung at her elbow.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> + +<p>She was making one of those perennial +knitted garments, which, in her young days, +were called "Cardigan jackets," later "Jerseys," +and now by the offensive name of +"sweater." These she constructed in great +numbers, and their probable expense was +a source of discussion in the town. "How +do you find friends enough to give them to?" +they asked her, and she would smile enigmatically +and reply, "Good presents make +good friends."</p> + +<p>"If a woman minds her P's and Q's she +can get a husband easy enough," insisted the +invalid. "Just shove that lamp nearer, Vivian, +will you."</p> + +<p>Vivian moved the lamp. Her mother +moved her chair to follow it and dropped +her darning egg, which the girl handed to +her.</p> + +<p>"Supper's ready," announced a hard-featured +middle-aged woman, opening the dining-room +door.</p> + +<p>At this moment the gate clicked, and a +firm step was heard coming up the path.</p> + +<p>"Gracious, that's the minister!" cried Mrs. +Lane. "He said he'd be in this afternoon if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> +he got time. I thought likely 'twould be to +supper."</p> + +<p>She received him cordially, and insisted +on his staying, slipping out presently to +open a jar of quinces.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Otis Williams was by no +means loathe to take occasional meals with +his parishioners. It was noted that, in making +pastoral calls, he began with the poorer +members of his flock, and frequently arrived +about meal-time at the houses of those whose +cooking he approved.</p> + +<p>"It is always a treat to take supper here," +he said. "Not feeling well, Mr. Lane? I'm +sorry to hear it. Ah! Mrs. Pettigrew! Is +that jacket for me, by any chance? A little +sombre, isn't it? Good evening, Vivian. +You are looking well—as you always do."</p> + +<p>Vivian did not like him. He had married +her mother, he had christened her, she had +"sat under" him for long, dull, uninterrupted +years; yet still she didn't like him.</p> + +<p>"A chilly evening, Mr. Lane," he pursued.</p> + +<p>"That's what I say," his host agreed. +"Vivian says it isn't; I say it is."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span></p> + +<p>"Disagreement in the family! This won't +do, Vivian," said the minister jocosely. +"Duty to parents, you know! Duty to +parents!"</p> + +<p>"Does duty to parents alter the temperature?" +the girl asked, in a voice of quiet +sweetness, yet with a rebellious spark in her +soft eyes.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said her grandmother—and +dropped her gray ball. Vivian picked it up +and the old lady surreptitiously patted her.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said the reverend gentleman +to Mrs. Pettigrew, "did you speak?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the old lady, "Seldom do."</p> + +<p>"Silence is golden, Mrs. Pettigrew. Silence +is golden. Speech is silver, but silence +is golden. It is a rare gift."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew set her lips so tightly that +they quite disappeared, leaving only a thin +dented line in her smoothly pale face. She +was called by the neighbors "wonderfully +well preserved," a phrase she herself despised. +Some visitor, new to the town, had +the hardihood to use it to her face once. +"Huh!" was the response. "I'm just +sixty. Henry Haskins and George Baker<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> +and Stephen Doolittle are all older'n I am—and +still doing business, doing it better'n any +of the young folks as far as I can see. You +don't compare them to canned pears, do +you?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Williams knew her value in church +work, and took no umbrage at her somewhat +inimical expression; particularly as just +then Mrs. Lane appeared and asked them to +walk out to supper.</p> + +<p>Vivian sat among them, restrained and +courteous, but inwardly at war with her +surroundings. Here was her mother, busy, +responsible, serving creamed codfish and hot +biscuit; her father, eating wheezily, and +finding fault with the biscuit, also with the +codfish; her grandmother, bright-eyed, thin-lipped +and silent. Vivian got on well with +her grandmother, though neither of them +talked much.</p> + +<p>"My mother used to say that the perfect +supper was cake, preserves, hot bread, and +a 'relish,'" said Mr. Williams genially. "You +have the perfect supper, Mrs. Lane."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad if you enjoy it, I'm sure," said +that lady. "I'm fond of a bit of salt myself."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span></p> + +<p>"And what are you reading now, Vivian," +he asked paternally.</p> + +<p>"Ward," she answered, modestly and +briefly.</p> + +<p>"Ward? Dr. Ward of the <i>Centurion</i>?"</p> + +<p>Vivian smiled her gentlest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she replied; "Lester F. Ward, +the Sociologist."</p> + +<p>"Poor stuff, I think!" said her father. +"Girls have no business to read such things."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd speak to Vivian about it, +Mr. Williams. She's got beyond me," protested +her mother.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "I'd like +some more of that quince, Laura."</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady, you are not reading +books of which your parents disapprove, I +hope?" urged the minister.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't I—ever?" asked the girl, in +her soft, disarming manner. "I'm surely +old enough!"</p> + +<p>"The duty of a daughter is not measured +by years," he replied sonorously. "Does +parental duty cease? Are you not yet a +child in your father's house?"</p> + +<p>"Is a daughter always a child if she lives<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +at home?" inquired the girl, as one seeking +instruction.</p> + +<p>He set down his cup and wiped his lips, +flushing somewhat.</p> + +<p>"The duty of a daughter begins at the +age when she can understand the distinction +between right and wrong," he said, "and +continues as long as she is blessed with +parents."</p> + +<p>"And what is it?" she asked, large-eyed, +attentive.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he repeated, looking at her +in some surprise. "It is submission, obedience—obedience."</p> + +<p>"I see. So Mother ought to obey Grandmother," +she pursued meditatively, and Mrs. +Pettigrew nearly choked in her tea.</p> + +<p>Vivian was boiling with rebellion. To sit +there and be lectured at the table, to have +her father complain of her, her mother invite +pastoral interference, the minister +preach like that. She slapped her grandmother's +shoulder, readjusted the little knit +shawl on the straight back—and refrained +from further speech.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Pettigrew could talk, she de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span>manded +suddenly of the minister, "Have +you read Campbell's New Theology?" and +from that on they were all occupied in listening +to Mr. Williams' strong, clear and +extensive views on the subject—which lasted +into the parlor again.</p> + +<p>Vivian sat for awhile in the chair nearest +the window, where some thin thread of air +might possibly leak in, and watched the +minister with a curious expression. All her +life he had been held up to her as a person +to honor, as a man of irreproachable character, +great learning and wisdom. Of late +she found with a sense of surprise that she +did not honor him at all. He seemed to her +suddenly like a relic of past ages, a piece of +an old parchment—or papyrus. In the light +of the studies she had been pursuing in the +well-stored town library, the teachings of +this worthy old gentleman appeared a jumble +of age-old traditions, superimposed one +upon another.</p> + +<p>"He's a palimpsest," she said to herself, +"and a poor palimpsest at that."</p> + +<p>She sat with her shapely hands quiet in +her lap while her grandmother's shining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> +needles twinkled in the dark wool, and her +mother's slim crochet hook ran along the +widening spaces of some thin, white, fuzzy +thing. The rich powers of her young womanhood +longed for occupation, but she +could never hypnotize herself with "fancywork." +Her work must be worth while. She +felt the crushing cramp and loneliness of a +young mind, really stronger than those about +her, yet held in dumb subjection. She could +not solace herself by loving them; her father +would have none of it, and her mother had +small use for what she called "sentiment." +All her life Vivian had longed for more loving, +both to give and take; but no one ever +imagined it of her, she was so quiet and repressed +in manner. The local opinion was +that if a woman had a head, she could not +have a heart; and as to having a body—it +was indelicate to consider such a thing.</p> + +<p>"I mean to have six children," Vivian had +planned when she was younger. "And they +shall never be hungry for more loving." She +meant to make up to her vaguely imagined +future family for all that her own youth +missed.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> + +<p>Even Grandma, though far more sympathetic +in temperament, was not given to +demonstration, and Vivian solaced her big, +tender heart by cuddling all the babies she +could reach, and petting cats and dogs when +no children were to be found.</p> + +<p>Presently she arose and bade a courteous +goodnight to the still prolix parson.</p> + +<p>"I'm going over to Sue's," she said, and +went out.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>There was a moon again—a low, large +moon, hazily brilliant. The air was sweet +with the odors of scarce-gone Summer, of +coming Autumn.</p> + +<p>The girl stood still, half-way down the +path, and looked steadily into that silver +radiance. Moonlight always filled her heart +with a vague excitement, a feeling that +something ought to happen—soon.</p> + +<p>This flat, narrow life, so long, so endlessly +long—would nothing ever end it? +Nine years since Morton went away! Nine +years since the strange, invading thrill of +her first kiss! Back of that was only childhood; +these years really constituted Life;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> +and Life, in the girl's eyes, was a dreary +treadmill.</p> + +<p>She was externally quiet, and by conscience +dutiful; so dutiful, so quiet, so without +powers of expression, that the ache of +an unsatisfied heart, the stir of young ambitions, +were wholly unsuspected by those +about her. A studious, earnest, thoughtful +girl—but study alone does not supply life's +needs, nor does such friendship as her life +afforded.</p> + +<p>Susie was "a dear"—Susie was Morton's +sister, and she was very fond of her. But +that bright-haired child did not understand—could +not understand—all that she needed.</p> + +<p>Then came Mrs. St. Cloud into her life, +stirring the depths of romance, of the buried +past, and of the unborn future. From her +she learned to face a life of utter renunciation, +to be true, true to her ideals, true to +her principles, true to the past, to be patient; +and to wait.</p> + +<p>So strengthened, she had turned a deaf +ear to such possible voice of admiration as +might have come from the scant membership +of the Young Men's Bible Class, leav<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span>ing +them the more devoted to Scripture +study. There was no thin ring to turn upon +her finger; but, for lack of better token, she +had saved the rose she wore upon her breast +that night, keeping it hidden among her +precious things.</p> + +<p>And then, into the gray, flat current of +her daily life, sharply across the trend of +Mrs. St. Cloud's soft influence, had come +a new force—Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Vivian liked her, yet felt afraid, a slight, +shivering hesitancy as before a too cold +bath, a subtle sense that this breezy woman, +strong, cheerful, full of new ideas, if not +ideals, and radiating actual power, power +used and enjoyed, might in some way change +the movement of her life.</p> + +<p>Change she desired, she longed for, but +dreaded the unknown.</p> + +<p>Slowly she followed the long garden path, +paused lingeringly by that rough garden +seat, went through and closed the gate.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>THE OUTBREAK</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There comes a time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After white months of ice—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow months of ice—long months of ice—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There comes a time when the still floods below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise, lift, and overflow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast, far they go.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Miss Orella sat in her low armless +rocker, lifting perplexed, patient +eyes to look up at Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair stood squarely before her, +stood easily, on broad-soled, low-heeled +shoes, and looked down at Miss Orella; her +eyes were earnest, compelling, full of hope +and cheer.</p> + +<p>"You are as pretty as a girl, Orella," she +observed irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella blushed. She was not used to +compliments, even from a woman, and did +not know how to take them.</p> + +<p>"How you talk!" she murmured shyly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span></p> + +<p>"I mean to talk," continued the doctor, +"until you listen to reason."</p> + +<p>Reason in this case, to Dr. Bellair's mind, +lay in her advice to Miss Elder to come +West with her—to live.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I can. It's—it's such a +Complete Change."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella spoke as if Change were +equivalent to Sin, or at least to Danger.</p> + +<p>"Do you good. As a physician, I can +prescribe nothing better. You need a complete +change if anybody ever did."</p> + +<p>"Why, Jane! I am quite well."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say you were sick. But you are +in an advanced stage of <i>arthritis deformans</i> +of the soul. The whole town's got it!"</p> + +<p>The doctor tramped up and down the little +room, freeing her mind.</p> + +<p>"I never saw such bed-ridden intellects in +my life! I suppose it was so when I was a +child—and I was too young to notice it. But +surely it's worse now. The world goes faster +and faster every day, the people who keep +still get farther behind! I'm fond of you, +Rella. You've got an intellect, and a conscience, +and a will—a will like iron. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +you spend most of your strength in keeping +yourself down. Now, do wake up and use +it to break loose! You don't have to stay +here. Come out to Colorado with me—and +Grow."</p> + +<p>Miss Elder moved uneasily in her chair. +She laid her small embroidery hoop on the +table, and straightened out the loose threads +of silk, the doctor watching her impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I'm too old," she said at length.</p> + +<p>Jane Bellair laughed aloud, shortly.</p> + +<p>"Old!" she cried. "You're five years +younger than I am. You're only thirty-six! +Old! Why, child, your life's before you—to +make."</p> + +<p>"You don't realize, Jane. You struck +out for yourself so young—and you've +grown up out there—it seems to be so different—there."</p> + +<p>"It is. People aren't afraid to move. +What have you got here you so hate to leave, +Rella?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's—Home."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's home—now. Are you happy +in it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm—contented."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't you deceive yourself, Rella. You +are not contented—not by a long chalk. +You are doing your duty as you see it; and +you've kept yourself down so long you've +almost lost the power of motion. I'm trying +to galvanize you awake—and I mean to +do it."</p> + +<p>"You might as well sit down while you're +doing it, anyway," Miss Elder suggested +meekly.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair sat down, selecting a formidable +fiddle-backed chair, the unflinching determination +of its widely-placed feet being +repeated by her own square toes. She +placed herself in front of her friend and +leaned forward, elbows on knees, her strong, +intelligent hands clasped loosely.</p> + +<p>"What have you got to look forward to, +Rella?"</p> + +<p>"I want to see Susie happily married—"</p> + +<p>"I said <i>you</i>—not Susie."</p> + +<p>"Oh—me? Why, I hope some day Morton +will come back——"</p> + +<p>"I said <i>you</i>—not Morton."</p> + +<p>"Why I—you know I have friends, Jane<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> +—and neighbors. And some day, perhaps—I +mean to go abroad."</p> + +<p>"Are you scolding Aunt Rella again, Dr. +Bellair. I won't stand it." Pretty Susie +stood in the door smiling.</p> + +<p>"Come and help me then," the doctor said, +"and it won't sound so much like scolding."</p> + +<p>"I want Mort's letter—to show to Viva," +the girl answered, and slipped out with it.</p> + +<p>She sat with Vivian on the stiff little sofa +in the back room; the arms of the two girls +were around one another, and they read the +letter together. More than six months had +passed since his last one.</p> + +<p>It was not much of a letter. Vivian took +it in her own hands and went through it +again, carefully. The "Remember me to +Viva—unless she's married," at the end did +not seem at all satisfying. Still it might +mean more than appeared—far more. Men +were reticent and proud, she had read. It +was perfectly possible that he might be concealing +deep emotion under the open friendliness. +He was in no condition to speak +freely, to come back and claim her. He did +not wish her to feel bound to him. She had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> +discussed it with Mrs. St. Cloud, shrinkingly, +tenderly, led on by tactful, delicate, +questions, by the longing of her longing +heart for expression and sympathy.</p> + +<p>"A man who cannot marry must speak of +marriage—it is not honorable," her friend +had told her.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't he—write to me—as a +friend?"</p> + +<p>And the low-voiced lady had explained +with a little sigh that men thought little of +friendship with women. "I have tried, all +my life, to be a true and helpful friend to +men, to such men as seemed worthy, and +they so often—misunderstood."</p> + +<p>The girl, sympathetic and admiring, +thought hotly of how other people misunderstood +this noble, lovely soul; how they +even hinted that she "tried to attract men," +a deadly charge in Bainville.</p> + +<p>"No," Mrs. St. Cloud had told her, "he +might love you better than all the world—yet +not write to you—till he was ready to +say 'come.' And, of course, he wouldn't say +anything in his letters to his aunt."</p> + +<p>So Vivian sat there, silent, weaving frail<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> +dreams out of "remember me to Viva—unless +she's married." That last clause might +mean much.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair's voice sounded clear and insistent +in the next room.</p> + +<p>"She's trying to persuade Aunt Rella to +go West!" said Susie. "Wouldn't it be +funny if she did!"</p> + +<p>In Susie's eyes her Aunt's age was as the +age of mountains, and also her fixity. Since +she could remember, Aunt Rella, always +palely pretty and neat, like the delicate, +faintly-colored Spring flowers of New England, +had presided over the small white +house, the small green garden and the large +black and white school-room. In her vacation +she sewed, keeping that quiet wardrobe +of hers in exquisite order—and also making +Susie's pretty dresses. To think of Aunt +Orella actually "breaking up housekeeping," +giving up her school, leaving Bainville, was +like a vision of trees walking.</p> + +<p>To Dr. Jane Bellair, forty-one, vigorous, +successful, full of new plans and purposes, +Miss Elder's life appeared as an arrested +girlhood, stagnating unnecessarily in this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> +quiet town, while all the world was open to +her.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't think of leaving Susie!" protested +Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>"Bring her along," said the doctor. "Best +thing in the world for her!"</p> + +<p>She rose and came to the door. The two +girls make a pretty picture. Vivian's oval +face, with its smooth Madonna curves under +the encircling wreath of soft, dark plaits, +and the long grace of her figure, delicately +built, yet strong, beside the pink, plump little +Susie, roguish and pretty, with the look +that made everyone want to take care of her.</p> + +<p>"Come in here, girls," said the doctor. "I +want you to help me. You're young enough +to be movable, I hope."</p> + +<p>They cheerfully joined the controversy, +but Miss Orella found small support in +them.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you do it, Auntie!" Susie +thought it an excellent joke. "I suppose you +could teach school in Denver as well as here. +And you could Vote! Oh, Auntie—to think +of your Voting!"</p> + +<p>Miss Elder, too modestly feminine, too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> +inherently conservative even to be an outspoken +"Anti," fairly blushed at the idea.</p> + +<p>"She's hesitating on your account," Dr. +Bellair explained to the girl. "Wants to +see you safely married! I tell her you'll +have a thousandfold better opportunities in +Colorado than you ever will here."</p> + +<p>Vivian was grieved. She had heard +enough of this getting married, and had expected +Dr. Bellair to hold a different position.</p> + +<p>"Surely, that's not the only thing to do," +she protested.</p> + +<p>"No, but it's a very important thing to +do—and to do right. It's a woman's duty."</p> + +<p>Vivian groaned in spirit. That again!</p> + +<p>The doctor watched her understandingly.</p> + +<p>"If women only did their duty in that line +there wouldn't be so much unhappiness in +the world," she said. "All you New England +girls sit here and cut one another's +throats. You can't possible marry, your +boys go West, you overcrowd the labor market, +lower wages, steadily drive the weakest +sisters down till they—drop."</p> + +<p>They heard the back door latch lift and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> +close again, a quick, decided step—and Mrs. +Pettigrew joined them.</p> + +<p>Miss Elder greeted her cordially, and the +old lady seated herself in the halo of the +big lamp, as one well accustomed to the +chair.</p> + +<p>"Go right on," she said—and knitted +briskly.</p> + +<p>"Do take my side, Mrs. Pettigrew," Miss +Orella implored her. "Jane Bellair is trying +to pull me up by the roots and transplant +me to Colorado."</p> + +<p>"And she says I shall have a better chance +to marry out there—and ought to do it!" +said Susie, very solemnly. "And Vivian +objects to being shown the path of duty."</p> + +<p>Vivian smiled. Her quiet, rather sad face +lit with sudden sparkling beauty when she +smiled.</p> + +<p>"Grandma knows I hate that—point of +view," she said. "I think men and women +ought to be friends, and not always be thinking +about—that."</p> + +<p>"I have some real good friends—boys, I +mean," Susie agreed, looking so serious in +her platonic boast that even Vivian was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> +little amused, and Dr. Bellair laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"You won't have a 'friend' in that sense +till you're fifty, Miss Susan—if you ever do. +There can be, there are, real friendships between +men and women, but most of that talk +is—talk, sometimes worse.</p> + +<p>"I knew a woman once, ever so long ago," +the doctor continued musingly, clasping her +hands behind her head, "a long way from +here—in a college town—who talked about +'friends.' She was married. She was a +'good' woman—perfectly 'good' woman. +Her husband was not a very good man, I've +heard, and strangely impatient of her virtues. +She had a string of boys—college +boys—always at her heels. Quite too young +and too charming she was for this friendship +game. She said that such a friendship was +'an ennobling influence' for the boys. She +called them her 'acolytes.' Lots of them +were fairly mad about her—one young chap +was so desperate over it that he shot himself."</p> + +<p>There was a pained silence.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what this has to do with going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> +to Colorado," said Mrs. Pettigrew, looking +from one to the other with a keen, observing +eye. "What's your plan, Dr. Bellair?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm trying to persuade my old +friend here to leave this place, change her +occupation, come out to Colorado with me, +and grow up. She's a case of arrested development."</p> + +<p>"She wants me to keep boarders!" Miss +Elder plaintively protested to Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>That lady was not impressed.</p> + +<p>"It's quite a different matter out there, +Mrs. Pettigrew," the doctor explained. +"'Keeping boarders' in this country goes to +the tune of 'Come Ye Disconsolate!' It's a +doubtful refuge for women who are widows +or would be better off if they were. Where +I live it's a sure thing if well managed—it's +a good business."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew wore an unconvinced +aspect.</p> + +<p>"What do you call 'a good business?'" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"The house I have in mind cleared a thousand +a year when it was in right hands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> +That's not bad, over and above one's board +and lodging. That house is in the market +now. I've just had a letter from a friend +about it. Orella could go out with me, and +step right into Mrs. Annerly's shoes—she's +just giving up."</p> + +<p>"What'd she give up for?" Mrs. Pettigrew +inquired suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Oh—she got married; they all do. There +are three men to one woman in that town, +you see."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know there was such a place in +the world—unless it was a man-of-war," remarked +Susie, looking much interested.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair went on more quietly.</p> + +<p>"It's not even a risk, Mrs. Pettigrew. +Rella has a cousin who would gladly run +this house for her. She's admitted that +much. So there's no loss here, and she's got +her home to come back to. I can write to +Dick Hale to nail the proposition at once. +She can go when I go, in about a fortnight, +and I'll guarantee the first year definitely."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't think of letting you do that, +Jane! And if it's as good as you say, there's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> +no need. But a fortnight! To leave home—in +a fortnight!"</p> + +<p>"What are the difficulties?" the old lady +inquired. "There are always some difficulties."</p> + +<p>"You are right, there," agreed the doctor. +"The difficulties in this place are servants. +But just now there's a special chance in that +line. Dick says the best cook in town is +going begging. I'll read you his letter."</p> + +<p>She produced it, promptly, from the +breast pocket of her neat coat. Dr. Bellair +wore rather short, tailored skirts of first-class +material; natty, starched blouses—silk +ones for "dress," and perfectly fitting light +coats. Their color and texture might vary +with the season, but their pockets, never.</p> + +<p>"'My dear Jane' (This is my best friend +out there—a doctor, too. We were in the +same class, both college and medical school. +We fight—he's a misogynist of the worst +type—but we're good friends all the same.) +'Why don't you come back? My boys are +lonesome without you, and I am overworked—you +left so many mishandled invalids for +me to struggle with. Your boarding house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> +is going to the dogs. Mrs. Annerly got +worse and worse, failed completely and has +cleared out, with a species of husband, I believe. +The owner has put in a sort of caretaker, +and the roomers get board outside—it's +better than what they were having. +Moreover, the best cook in town is hunting +a job. Wire me and I'll nail her. You +know the place pays well. Now, why don't +you give up your unnatural attempt to be +a doctor and assume woman's proper +sphere? Come back and keep house!'</p> + +<p>"He's a great tease, but he tells the truth. +The house is there, crying to be kept. The +boarders are there—unfed. Now, Orella +Elder, why don't you wake up and seize the +opportunity?"</p> + +<p>Miss Orella was thinking.</p> + +<p>"Where's that last letter of Morton's?"</p> + +<p>Susie looked for it. Vivian handed it to +her, and Miss Elder read it once more.</p> + +<p>"There's plenty of homeless boys out there +besides yours, Orella," the doctor assured +her. "Come on—and bring both these girls +with you. It's a chance for any girl, Miss +Lane."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></p> + +<p>But her friend did not hear her. She +found what she was looking for in the letter +and read it aloud. "I'm on the road again +now, likely to be doing Colorado most of +the year if things go right. It's a fine +country."</p> + +<p>Susie hopped up with a little cry.</p> + +<p>"Just the thing, Aunt Rella! Let's go +out and surprise Mort. He thinks we are +just built into the ground here. Won't it +be fun, Viva?"</p> + +<p>Vivian had risen from her seat and stood +at the window, gazing out with unseeing +eyes at the shadowy little front yard. Morton +might be there. She might see him. But—was +it womanly to go there—for that? +There were other reasons, surely. She had +longed for freedom, for a chance to grow, to +do something in life—something great and +beautiful! Perhaps this was the opening of +the gate, the opportunity of a lifetime.</p> + +<p>"You folks are so strong on duty," the +doctor was saying, "Why can't you see a real +duty in this? I tell you, the place is full of +men that need mothering, and sistering—good +honest sweethearting and marrying,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +too. Come on, Rella. Do bigger work than +you've ever done yet—and, as I said, bring +both these nice girls with you. What do +you say, Miss Lane?"</p> + +<p>Vivian turned to her, her fine face flushed +with hope, yet with a small Greek fret on +the broad forehead.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to, very much, Dr. Bellair—on +some accounts. But——" She could not +quite voice her dim objections, her obscure +withdrawals; and so fell back on the excuse +of childhood—"I'm sure Mother wouldn't +let me."</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair smiled broadly.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you over twenty-one?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm twenty-five," the girl replied, with +proud acceptance of a life long done—as one +who owned to ninety-seven.</p> + +<p>"And self-supporting?" pursued the doctor.</p> + +<p>Vivian flushed.</p> + +<p>"No—not yet," she answered; "but I +mean to be."</p> + +<p>"Exactly! Now's your chance. Break +away now, my dear, and come West. You +can get work—start a kindergarten, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> +something. I know you love children."</p> + +<p>The girl's heart rose within her in a great +throb of hope.</p> + +<p>"Oh—if I <i>could</i>!" she exclaimed, and even +as she said it, rose half-conscious memories +of the low, sweet tones of Mrs. St. Cloud. +"It is a woman's place to wait—and to endure."</p> + +<p>She heard a step on the walk outside—looked +out.</p> + +<p>"Why, here is Mrs. St. Cloud!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Guess I'll clear out," said the doctor, as +Susie ran to the door. She was shy, socially.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Jane," said her hostess, +whispering. "Mrs. St. Cloud is no stranger. +She's Mrs. Williams' sister—been here for +years."</p> + +<p>She came in at the word, her head and +shoulders wreathed in a pearl gray shining +veil, her soft long robe held up.</p> + +<p>"I saw your light, Miss Elder, and +thought I'd stop in for a moment. Good +evening, Mrs. Pettigrew—and Miss Susie. +Ah! Vivian!"</p> + +<p>"This is my friend, Dr. Bellair—Mrs. St. +Cloud," Miss Elder was saying. But Dr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> +Bellair bowed a little stiffly, not coming forward.</p> + +<p>"I've met Mrs. St. Cloud before, I think—when +she was 'Mrs. James.'"</p> + +<p>The lady's face grew sad.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you knew my first husband! I lost +him—many years ago—typhoid fever."</p> + +<p>"I think I heard," said the doctor. And +then, feeling that some expression of sympathy +was called for, she added, "Too bad."</p> + +<p>Not all Miss Elder's gentle hospitality, +Mrs. Pettigrew's bright-eyed interest, +Susie's efforts at polite attention, and Vivian's +visible sympathy could compensate +Mrs. St. Cloud for one inimical presence.</p> + +<p>"You must have been a mere girl in those +days," she said sweetly. "What a lovely +little town it was—under the big trees."</p> + +<p>"It certainly was," the doctor answered +dryly.</p> + +<p>"There is such a fine atmosphere in a college +town, I think," pursued the lady. +"Especially in a co-educational town—don't +you think so?"</p> + +<p>Vivian was a little surprised. She had +had an idea that her admired friend did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +approve of co-education. She must have +been mistaken.</p> + +<p>"Such a world of old memories as you call +up, Dr. Bellair," their visitor pursued. +"Those quiet, fruitful days! You remember +Dr. Black's lectures? Of course you do, +better than I. What a fine man he was! +And the beautiful music club we had one +Winter—and my little private dancing class—do +you remember that? Such nice boys, +Miss Elder! I used to call them my +acolytes."</p> + +<p>Susie gave a little gulp, and coughed to +cover it.</p> + +<p>"I guess you'll have to excuse me, ladies," +said Dr. Bellair. "Good-night." And she +walked upstairs.</p> + +<p>Vivian's face flushed and paled and flushed +again. A cold pain was trying to enter +her heart, and she was trying to keep it +out. Her grandmother glanced sharply +from one face to the other.</p> + +<p>"Glad to've met you, Mrs. St. Cloud," +she said, bobbing up with decision. "Good-night, +Rella—and Susie. Come on child. It's +a wonder your mother hasn't sent after us."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span></p> + +<p>For once Vivian was glad to go.</p> + +<p>"That's a good scheme of Jane Bellair's, +don't you think so?" asked the old lady as +they shut the gate behind them.</p> + +<p>"I—why yes—I don't see why not."</p> + +<p>Vivian was still dizzy with the blow to her +heart's idol. All the soft, still dream-world +she had so labored to keep pure and beautiful +seemed to shake and waver swimmingly. +She could not return to it. The flat white +face of her home loomed before her, square, +hard, hideously unsympathetic—</p> + +<p>"Grandma," said she, stopping that lady +suddenly and laying a pleading hand on her +arm, "Grandma, I believe I'll go."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew nodded decisively.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would," she said.</p> + +<p>"Do you blame me, Grandma?"</p> + +<p>"Not a mite, child. Not a mite. But I'd +sleep on it, if I were you."</p> + +<p>And Vivian slept on it—so far as she +slept at all.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>TRANSPLANTED</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:25%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes a plant in its own habitat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is overcrowded, starved, oppressed and daunted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A palely feeble thing; yet rises quickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Growing in height and vigor, blooming thickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When far transplanted.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The days between Vivian's decision +and her departure were harder than +she had foreseen. It took some +courage to make the choice. Had she been +alone, independent, quite free to change, +the move would have been difficult enough; +but to make her plan and hold to it in the +face of a disapproving town, and the definite +opposition of her parents, was a heavy undertaking.</p> + +<p>By habit she would have turned to Mrs. +St. Cloud for advice; but between her and +that lady now rose the vague image of a +young boy, dead,—she could never feel the +same to her again.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair proved a tower of strength. +"My dear girl," she would say to her, patiently, +but with repressed intensity, "do +remember that you are <i>not</i> a child! You are +twenty-five years old. You are a grown +woman, and have as much right to decide for +yourself as a grown man. This isn't wicked—it +is a wise move; a practical one. Do you +want to grow up like the rest of the useless +single women in this little social cemetery?"</p> + +<p>Her mother took it very hard. "I don't +see how you can think of leaving us. We're +getting old now—and here's Grandma to +take care of——"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said that lady, with such marked +emphasis that Mrs. Lane hastily changed +the phrase to "I mean to <i>be with</i>—you do +like to have Vivian with you, you can't deny +that, Mother."</p> + +<p>"But Mama," said the girl, "you are not +old; you are only forty-three. I am sorry +to leave you—I am really; but it isn't forever! +I can come back. And you don't +really need me. Sarah runs the house exactly +as you like; you don't depend on me +for a thing, and never did. As to Grandma!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span>"—and +she looked affectionately at the old +lady—"she don't need me nor anybody else. +She's independent if ever anybody was. She +won't miss me a mite—will you Grandma?" +Mrs. Pettigrew looked at her for a moment, +the corners of her mouth tucked in tightly. +"No," she said, "I shan't miss you a mite!"</p> + +<p>Vivian was a little grieved at the prompt +acquiescence. She felt nearer to her grandmother +in many ways than to either parent. +"Well, I'll miss you!" said she, going to her +and kissing her smooth pale cheek, "I'll miss +you awfully!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Lane expressed his disapproval most +thoroughly, and more than once; then retired +into gloomy silence, alternated with +violent dissuasion; but since a woman of +twenty-five is certainly free to choose her +way of life, and there was no real objection +to this change, except that it <i>was</i> a change, +and therefore dreaded, his opposition, +though unpleasant, was not prohibitive. +Vivian's independent fortune of $87.50, the +savings of many years, made the step possible, +even without his assistance.</p> + +<p>There were two weeks of exceeding dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span>agreeableness +in the household, but Vivian +kept her temper and her determination under +a rain of tears, a hail of criticism, and heavy +wind of argument and exhortation. All her +friends and neighbors, and many who were +neither, joined in the effort to dissuade her; +but she stood firm as the martyrs of old.</p> + +<p>Heredity plays strange tricks with us. +Somewhere under the girl's dumb gentleness +and patience lay a store of quiet strength +from some Pilgrim Father or Mother. +Never before had she set her will against +her parents; conscience had always told her +to submit. Now conscience told her to rebel, +and she did. She made her personal arrangements, +said goodbye to her friends, declined +to discuss with anyone, was sweet and +quiet and kind at home, and finally appeared +at the appointed hour on the platform of +the little station.</p> + +<p>Numbers of curious neighbors were there +to see them off, all who knew them and could +spare the time seemed to be on hand. Vivian's +mother came, but her father did not.</p> + +<p>At the last moment, just as the train drew +in, Grandma appeared, serene and brisk,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +descending, with an impressive amount of +hand baggage, from "the hack."</p> + +<p>"Goodbye, Laura," she said. "I think +these girls need a chaperon. I'm going too."</p> + +<p>So blasting was the astonishment caused +by this proclamation, and so short a time +remained to express it, that they presently +found themselves gliding off in the big Pullman, +all staring at one another in silent +amazement.</p> + +<p>"I hate discussion," said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>None of these ladies were used to traveling, +save Dr. Bellair, who had made the +cross continent trip often enough to think +nothing of it.</p> + +<p>The unaccustomed travelers found much +excitement in the journey. As women, embarking +on a new, and, in the eyes of their +friends, highly doubtful enterprise, they +had emotion to spare; and to be confronted +at the outset by a totally unexpected grandmother +was too much for immediate comprehension.</p> + +<p>She looked from one to the other, sparkling, +triumphant.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span></p> + +<p>"I made up my mind, same as you did, +hearing Jane Bellair talk," she explained. +"Sounded like good sense. I always wanted +to travel, always, and never had the opportunity. +This was a real good chance." Her +mouth shut, tightened, widened, drew into +a crinkly delighted smile.</p> + +<p>They sat still staring at her.</p> + +<p>"You needn't look at me like that! I +guess it's a free country! I bought my ticket—sent +for it same as you did. And I didn't +have to ask <i>anybody</i>—I'm no daughter. +My duty, as far as I know it, is <i>done</i>! This +is a pleasure trip!"</p> + +<p>She was triumph incarnate.</p> + +<p>"And you never said a word!" This from +Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Not a word. Saved lots of trouble. +Take care of me indeed! Laura needn't +think I'm dependent on her <i>yet</i>!"</p> + +<p>Vivian's heart rather yearned over her +mother, thus doubly bereft.</p> + +<p>"The truth is," her grandmother went on, +"Samuel wants to go to Florida the worst +way; I heard 'em talking about it! He +wasn't willing to go alone—not he! Wants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> +somebody to hear him cough, I say! And +Laura couldn't go—'Mother was so dependent'—<i>Huh!</i>"</p> + +<p>Vivian began to smile. She knew this +had been talked over, and given up on that +account. She herself could have been easily +disposed of, but Mrs. Lane chose to think +her mother a lifelong charge.</p> + +<p>"Act as if I was ninety!" the old lady +burst forth again. "I'll show 'em!"</p> + +<p>"I think you're dead right, Mrs. Pettigrew," +said Dr. Bellair. "Sixty isn't anything. +You ought to have twenty years of +enjoyable life yet, before they call you 'old'—maybe +more."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew cocked an eye at her. +"My grandmother lived to be a hundred and +four," said she, "and kept on working up to +the last year. I don't know about enjoyin' +life, but she was useful for pretty near a +solid century. After she broke her hip the +last time she sat still and sewed and knitted. +After her eyes gave out she took to hooking +rugs."</p> + +<p>"I hope it will be forty years, Mrs. Pettigrew," +said Sue, "and I'm real glad you're<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> +coming. It'll make it more like home."</p> + +<p>Miss Elder was a little slow in accommodating +herself to this new accession. She +liked Mrs. Pettigrew very much—but—a +grandmother thus airily at large seemed to +unsettle the foundations of things. She was +polite, even cordial, but evidently found it +difficult to accept the facts.</p> + +<p>"Besides," said Mrs. Pettigrew, "you may +not get all those boarders at once and I'll +be one to count on. I stopped at the bank +this morning and had 'em arrange for my +account out in Carston. They were some +surprised, but there was no time to ask +questions!" She relapsed into silence and +gazed with keen interest at the whirling +landscape.</p> + +<p>Throughout the journey she proved the +best of travelers; was never car-sick, slept +well in the joggling berth, enjoyed the food, +and continually astonished them by producing +from her handbag the most diverse and +unlooked for conveniences. An old-fashioned +traveller had forgotten her watchkey—Grandma +produced an automatic one warranted +to fit anything. "Takes up mighty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> +little room—and I thought maybe it would +come in handy," she said.</p> + +<p>She had a small bottle of liquid court-plaster, +and plenty of the solid kind. She +had a delectable lotion for the hands, a real +treasure on the dusty journey; also a tiny +corkscrew, a strong pair of "pinchers," sewing +materials, playing cards, string, safety-pins, +elastic bands, lime drops, stamped envelopes, +smelling salts, troches, needles and +thread.</p> + +<p>"Did you bring a trunk, Grandma?" +asked Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Two," said Grandma, "excess baggage. +All paid for and checked."</p> + +<p>"How did you ever learn to arrange +things so well?" Sue asked admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Read about it," the old lady answered. +"There's no end of directions nowadays. +I've been studying up."</p> + +<p>She was so gleeful and triumphant, so +variously useful, so steadily gay and stimulating, +that they all grew to value her presence +long before they reached Carston; but +they had no conception of the ultimate ef<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span>fect +of a resident grandmother in that new +and bustling town.</p> + +<p>To Vivian the journey was a daily and +nightly revelation. She had read much but +traveled very little, never at night. The +spreading beauty of the land was to her a +new stimulus; she watched by the hour the +endless panorama fly past her window, its +countless shades of green, the brown and +red soil, the fleeting dashes of color where +wild flowers gathered thickly. She was repeatedly +impressed by seeing suddenly beside +her the name of some town which had +only existed in her mind as "capital city" +associated with "principal exports" and +"bounded on the north."</p> + +<p>At night, sleeping little, she would raise +her curtain and look out, sideways, at the +stars. Big shadowy trees ran by, steep cuttings +rose like a wall of darkness, and the +hilly curves of open country rose and fell +against the sky line like a shaken carpet.</p> + +<p>She faced the long, bright vistas of the +car and studied people's faces—such different +people from any she had seen before. +A heavy young man with small, light eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> +sat near by, and cast frequent glances at +both the girls, going by their seat at intervals. +Vivian considered this distinctly rude, +and Sue did not like his looks, so he got +nothing for his pains, yet even this added +color to the day.</p> + +<p>The strange, new sense of freedom grew +in her heart, a feeling of lightness and hope +and unfolding purpose.</p> + +<p>There was continued discussion as to what +the girls should do.</p> + +<p>"We can be waitresses for Auntie till we +get something else," Sue practically insisted. +"The doctor says it will be hard to get good +service and I'm sure the boarders would +like us."</p> + +<p>"You can both find work if you want it. +What do you want to do, Vivian?" asked +Dr. Bellair, not for the first time.</p> + +<p>Vivian was still uncertain.</p> + +<p>"I love children best," she said. "I could +teach—but I haven't a certificate. I'd <i>love</i> +a kindergarten; I've studied that—at +home."</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't wonder if you could get up a +kindergarten right off," the doctor assured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> +her. "Meantime, as this kitten says, you +could help Miss Elder out and turn an honest +penny while you're waiting."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it—interfere with my teaching +later?" the girl inquired.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit, not a bit. We're not so foolish +out here. We'll fix you up all right in +no time."</p> + +<p>It was morning when they arrived at last +and came out of the cindery, noisy crowded +cars into the wide, clean, brilliant stillness +of the high plateau. They drew deep +breaths; the doctor squared her shoulders +with a glad, homecoming smile. Vivian +lifted her head and faced the new surroundings +as an unknown world. Grandma gazed +all ways, still cheerful, and their baggage +accrued about them as a rampart.</p> + +<p>A big bearded man, carelessly dressed, +whirled up in a dusty runabout, and stepped +out smiling. He seized Dr. Bellair by both +hands, and shook them warmly.</p> + +<p>"Thought I'd catch you, Johnny," he said. +"Glad to see you back. If you've got the +landlady, I've got the cook!"</p> + +<p>"Here we are," said she. "Miss Orella<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> +Elder—Dr. Hale; Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss +Susie Elder, Miss Lane—Dr. Richard +Hale."</p> + +<p>He bowed deeply to Mrs. Pettigrew, +shook hands with Miss Orella, and addressed +himself to her, giving only a cold +nod to the two girls, and quite turning away +from them.</p> + +<p>Susie, in quiet aside to Vivian, made unfavorable +comment.</p> + +<p>"This is your Western chivalry, is it?" +she said. "Even Bainville does better than +that."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why we should mind," +Vivian answered. "It's Dr. Bellair's friend; +he don't care anything about us."</p> + +<p>But she was rather of Sue's opinion.</p> + +<p>The big man took Dr. Bellair in his car, +and they followed in a station carriage, +eagerly observing their new surroundings, +and surprised, as most Easterners are, by +the broad beauty of the streets and the +modern conveniences everywhere—electric +cars, electric lights, telephones, soda fountains, +where they had rather expected to find +tents and wigwams.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> + +<p>The house, when they were all safely +within it, turned out to be "just like a real +house," as Sue said; and proved even more +attractive than the doctor had described it. +It was a big, rambling thing, at home they +would have called it a hotel, with its neat +little sign, "The Cottonwoods," and Vivian +finally concluded that it looked like a seaside +boarding house, built for the purpose.</p> + +<p>A broad piazza ran all across the front, the +door opening into a big square hall, a sort +of general sitting-room; on either side were +four good rooms, opening on a transverse +passage. The long dining-room and kitchen +were in the rear of the hall.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair had two, her office fronting +on the side street, with a bedroom behind it. +They gave Mrs. Pettigrew the front corner +room on that side and kept the one opening +from the hall as their own parlor. In the +opposite wing was Miss Elder's room next +the hall, and the girls in the outer back corner, +while the two front ones on that side +were kept for the most impressive and high-priced +boarders.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew regarded her apartments +with suspicion as being too "easy."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind stairs," she said. "Dr. Bellair +has to be next her office—but why do I +have to be next Dr. Bellair?"</p> + +<p>It was represented to her that she would +be nearer to everything that went on and +she agreed without more words.</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale exhibited the house as if he +owned it.</p> + +<p>"The agent's out of town," he said, "and +we don't need him anyway. He said he'd +do anything you wanted, in reason."</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair watched with keen interest +the effect of her somewhat daring description, +as Miss Orella stepped from room to +room examining everything with a careful +eye, with an expression of growing generalship. +Sue fluttered about delightedly, discovering +advantages everywhere and making +occasional disrespectful remarks to Vivian +about Dr. Hale's clothes.</p> + +<p>"Looks as if he never saw a clothes +brush!" she said. "A finger out on his glove, +a button off his coat. No need to tell us +there's no woman in his house!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span></p> + +<p>"You can decide about your cook when +you've tried her," he said to Miss Elder. "I +engaged her for a week—on trial. She's in +the kitchen now, and will have your dinner +ready presently. I think you'll like her, +if——"</p> + +<p>"Good boy!" said Dr. Bellair. "Sometimes +you show as much sense as a woman—almost."</p> + +<p>"What's the 'if'" asked Miss Orella, +looking worried.</p> + +<p>"Question of character," he answered. +"She's about forty-five, with a boy of sixteen +or so. He's not over bright, but a willing +worker. She's a good woman—from +one standpoint. She won't leave that boy +nor give him up to strangers; but she has +a past!"</p> + +<p>"What is her present?" Dr. Bellair asked, +"that's the main thing."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale clapped her approvingly on the +shoulder, but looked doubtingly toward +Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>"And what's her future if somebody don't +help her?" Vivian urged.</p> + +<p>"Can she cook?" asked Grandma.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is she a safe person to have in the +house?" inquired Dr. Bellair meaningly.</p> + +<p>"She can cook," he replied. "She's French, +or of French parentage. She used to keep +a little—place of entertainment. The food +was excellent. She's been a patient of mine—off +and on—for five years—and I should +call her perfectly safe."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella still looked worried. "I'd +like to help her and the boy, but would it—look +well? I don't want to be mean about +it, but this is a very serious venture with us, +Dr. Hale, and I have these girls with me."</p> + +<p>"With you and Dr. Bellair and Mrs. Pettigrew +the young ladies will be quite safe, +Miss Elder. As to the woman's present +character, she has suffered two changes of +heart, she's become a religious devotee—and +a man-hater! And from a business +point of view, I assure you that if Jeanne +Jeaune is in your kitchen you'll never have +a room empty."</p> + +<p>"Johnny Jones! queer name for a woman!" +said Grandma. They repeated it to +her carefully, but she only changed to "Jennie +June," and adhered to one or the other,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> +thereafter. "What's the boy's name?" she +asked further.</p> + +<p>"Theophile," Dr. Hale replied.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said she.</p> + +<p>"Why don't she keep an eating-house +still?" asked Dr. Bellair rather suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"That's what I like best about her," he +answered. "She is trying to break altogether +with her past. She wants to give up 'public +life'—and private life won't have her."</p> + +<p>They decided to try the experiment, and +found it worked well.</p> + +<p>There were two bedrooms over the kitchen +where "Mrs. Jones" as Grandma generally +called her, and her boy, could be quite comfortable +and by themselves; and although of +a somewhat sour and unsociable aspect, and +fiercely watchful lest anyone offend her son, +this questionable character proved an unquestionable +advantage. With the boy's +help, she cooked for the houseful, which +grew to be a family of twenty-five. He also +wiped dishes, helped in the laundry work, +cleaned and scrubbed and carried coal; and +Miss Elder, seeing his steady usefulness, insisted +on paying wages for him too. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> +unlooked for praise and gain won the +mother's heart, and as she grew more at +home with them, and he less timid, she encouraged +him to do the heavier cleaning in +the rest of the house.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Grandma. "I wish more +sane and moral persons would work like +that!"</p> + +<p>Vivian watched with amazement the swift +filling of the house.</p> + +<p>There was no trouble at all about boarders, +except in discriminating among them. +"Make them pay in advance, Rella," Dr. +Bellair advised, "it doesn't cost them any +more, and it is a great convenience. 'References +exchanged,' of course. There are a +good many here that I know—you can always +count on Mr. Dykeman and Fordham +Grier, and John Unwin."</p> + +<p>Before a month was over the place was +full to its limits with what Sue called "assorted +boarders," the work ran smoothly +and the business end of Miss Elder's venture +seemed quite safe. They had the twenty +Dr. Bellair prophesied, and except for her, +Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss Peeder, a teacher of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> +dancing and music; Mrs. Jocelyn, who was +interested in mining, and Sarah Hart, who +described herself as a "journalist," all were +men.</p> + +<p>Fifteen men to eight women. Miss Elder +sat at the head of her table, looked down it +and across the other one, and marvelled continuously. +Never in her New England life +had she been with so many men—except in +church—and they were more scattered. +This houseful of heavy feet and broad +shoulders, these deep voices and loud laughs, +the atmosphere of interchanging jests and +tobacco smoke, was new to her. She hated +the tobacco smoke, but that could not be +helped. They did not smoke in her parlor, +but the house was full of it none the less, in +which constant presence she began to reverse +the Irishman's well known judgment +of whiskey, allowing that while all tobacco +was bad, some tobacco was much worse than +others.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>CONTRASTS</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old England thinks our country<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is a wilderness at best—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And small New England thinks the same<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the large free-minded West.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some people know the good old way<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is the only way to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find there must be something wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In anything that's new.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>To Vivian the new life offered a stimulus, +a sense of stir and promise even +beyond her expectations. She wrote +dutiful letters to her mother, trying to describe +the difference between this mountain +town and Bainville, but found the New England +viewpoint an insurmountable obstacle.</p> + +<p>To Bainville "Out West" was a large +blank space on the map, and the blank space +in the mind which matched it was but +sparsely dotted with a few disconnected ideas +such as "cowboy," "blizzard," "prairie fire,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> +"tornado," "border ruffian," and the like.</p> + +<p>The girl's painstaking description of the +spreading, vigorous young town, with its +fine, modern buildings, its banks and stores +and theatres, its country club and parks, its +pleasant social life, made small impression +on the Bainville mind. But the fact that +Miss Elder's venture was successful from +the first did impress old acquaintances, and +Mrs. Lane read aloud to selected visitors +her daughter's accounts of their new and +agreeable friends. Nothing was said of +"chaps," "sombreros," or "shooting up the +town," however, and therein a distinct sense +of loss was felt.</p> + +<p>Much of what was passing in Vivian's +mind she could not make clear to her mother +had she wished to. The daily presence and +very friendly advances of so many men, +mostly young and all polite (with the exception +of Dr. Hale, whose indifference was +almost rude by contrast), gave a new life +and color to the days.</p> + +<p>She could not help giving some thought +to this varied assortment, and the carefully +preserved image of Morton, already nine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> +years dim, waxed dimmer. But she had a +vague consciousness of being untrue to her +ideals, or to Mrs. St. Cloud's ideals, now +somewhat discredited, and did not readily +give herself up to the cheerful attractiveness +of the position.</p> + +<p>Susie found no such difficulty. Her ideals +were simple, and while quite within the +bounds of decorum, left her plenty of room +for amusement. So popular did she become, +so constantly in demand for rides and walks +and oft-recurring dances, that Vivian felt +called upon to give elder sisterly advice.</p> + +<p>But Miss Susan scouted her admonitions.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I have a good time?" she +said. "Think how we grew up! Half a +dozen boys to twenty girls, and when there +was anything to go to—the lordly way +they'd pick and choose! And after all our +efforts and machinations most of us had to +dance with each other. And the quarrels +we had! Here they stand around three deep +asking for dances—and <i>they</i> have to dance +with each other, and <i>they</i> do the quarreling. +I've heard 'em." And Sue giggled delightedly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's no reason we shouldn't enjoy +ourselves, Susie, of course, but aren't you—rather +hard on them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" Sue protested. "Dr. Bellair +said I should get married out here! She +says the same old thing—that it's 'a woman's +duty,' and I propose to do it. That is—they'll +propose, and I won't do it! Not till +I make up my mind. Now see how you like +this!"</p> + +<p>She had taken a fine large block of "legal +cap" and set down their fifteen men thereon, +with casual comment.</p> + +<p>1. Mr. Unwin—Too old, big, quiet.</p> + +<p>2. Mr. Elmer Skee—Big, too old, funny.</p> + +<p>3. Jimmy Saunders—Middle-sized, amusing, +nice.</p> + +<p>4. P. R. Gibbs—Too little, too thin, too +cocky.</p> + +<p>5. George Waterson—Middling, pretty +nice.</p> + +<p>6. J. J. Cuthbert—Big, horrid.</p> + +<p>7. Fordham Greer—Big, pleasant.</p> + +<p>8. W. S. Horton—Nothing much.</p> + +<p>9. A. L. Dykeman—Interesting, too old.</p> + +<p>10. Professor Toomey—Little, horrid.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span></p> + +<p>11. Arthur Fitzwilliam—Ridiculous, too +young.</p> + +<p>12. Howard Winchester—Too nice, distrust him.</p> + +<p>13. Lawson W. Briggs—Nothing much.</p> + +<p>14. Edward S. Jenks—Fair to middling.</p> + +<p>15. Mr. A. Smith—Minus.</p> + +<p>She held it up in triumph. "I got 'em all +out of the book—quite correct. Now, +which'll you have."</p> + +<p>"Susie Elder! You little goose! Do you +imagine that all these fifteen men are going +to propose to you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I hope so!" said the cheerful +damsel. "We've only been settled a fortnight +and one of 'em has already!"</p> + +<p>Vivian was impressed at once. "Which?—You +don't mean it!"</p> + +<p>Sue pointed to the one marked "minus."</p> + +<p>"It was only 'A. Smith.' I never should +be willing to belong to 'A. Smith,' it's too +indefinite—unless it was a last resort. +Several more are—well, extremely friendly! +Now don't look so severe. You needn't +worry about me. I'm not quite so foolish as +I talk, you know."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span></p> + +<p>She was not. Her words were light and +saucy, but she was as demure and decorous +a little New Englander as need be desired; +and she could not help it if the hearts of +the unattached young men of whom the +town was full, warmed towards her.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair astonished them at lunch one +day in their first week.</p> + +<p>"Dick Hale wants us all to come over to +tea this afternoon," she said, as if it was +the most natural thing in the world.</p> + +<p>"Tea? Where?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew +sharply.</p> + +<p>"At his house. He has 'a home of his +own,' you know. And he particularly wants +you, Mrs. Pettigrew—and Miss Elder—the +girls, of course."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't care to go," Vivian remarked +with serene indifference, but Susie +did.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come on, Vivian! It'll be so funny! +A man's home!—and we may never get +another chance. He's such a bear!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale's big house was only across the +road from theirs, standing in a large lot with +bushes and trees about it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's been here nine years," Dr. Bellair +told them. "That's an old inhabitant for +us. He boarded in that house for a while; +then it was for sale and he bought it. He +built that little office of his at the corner—says +he doesn't like to live where he works, +or work where he lives. He took his meals +over here for a while—and then set up for +himself."</p> + +<p>"I should think he'd be lonely," Miss Elder +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has his boys, you know—always +three or four young fellows about him. It's +a mighty good thing for them, too."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale's home proved a genuine surprise. +They had regarded it as a big, neglected-looking +place, and found on entering +the gate that the inside view of that +rampant shrubbery was extremely pleasant. +Though not close cut and swept of leaves +and twigs, it still was beautiful; and the +tennis court and tether-ball ring showed the +ground well used.</p> + +<p>Grandma looked about her with a keen +interrogative eye, and was much impressed, +as, indeed, were they all. She voiced their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +feelings justly when, the true inwardness +of this pleasant home bursting fully upon +them, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Well, of all things! A man keeping +house!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Dr. Hale with his dry +smile. "Is there any deficiency, mental or +physical, about a man, to prevent his attempting +this abstruse art?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him sharply. "I don't know +about deficiency, but there seems to be +somethin' about 'em that keeps 'em out of +the business. I guess it's because women are +so cheap."</p> + +<p>"No doubt you are right, Mrs. Pettigrew. +And here women are scarce and high. Hence +my poor efforts."</p> + +<p>His poor efforts had bought or built a +roomy pleasant house, and furnished it with +a solid comfort and calm attractiveness that +was most satisfying. Two Chinamen did +the work; cooking, cleaning, washing, waiting +on table, with silent efficiency. "They +are as steady as eight-day clocks," said Dr. +Hale. "I pay them good wages and they +are worth it."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sun here had to go home once—to be +married, also, to see his honored parents, I +believe, and to leave a grand-'Sun' to attend +to the ancestors; but he brought in another +Chink first and trained him so well that I +hardly noticed the difference. Came back +in a year or so, and resumed his place without +a jar."</p> + +<p>Miss Elder watched with fascinated eyes +these soft-footed servants with clean, white +garments and shiny coils of long, braided +hair.</p> + +<p>"I may have to come to it," she admitted, +"but—dear me, it doesn't seem natural to +have a man doing housework!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale smiled again. "You don't want +men to escape from dependence, I see. Perhaps, +if more men knew how comfortably +they could live without women, the world +would be happier." There was a faint wire-edge +to his tone, in spite of the courteous +expression, but Miss Elder did not notice +it and if Mrs. Pettigrew did, she made no +comment.</p> + +<p>They noted the varied excellences of his +housekeeping with high approval.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span></p> + +<p>"You certainly know how, Dr. Hale," +said Miss Orella; "I particularly admire +these beds—with the sheets buttoned down, +German fashion, isn't it? What made you +do that?"</p> + +<p>"I've slept so much in hotels," he answered; +"and found the sheets always inadequate +to cover the blankets—and the +marks of other men's whiskers! I don't like +blankets in my neck. Besides it saves washing."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew nodded vehemently. +"You have sense," she said.</p> + +<p>The labor-saving devices were a real +surprise to them. A "chute" for soiled clothing +shot from the bathroom on each floor to +the laundry in the basement; a dumbwaiter +of construction large and strong enough to +carry trunks, went from cellar to roof; the +fireplaces dropped their ashes down mysterious +inner holes; and for the big one in the +living-room a special "lift" raised a box of +wood up to the floor level, hidden by one of +the "settles."</p> + +<p>"Saves work—saves dirt—saves expense," +said Dr. Hale.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Hale and her niece secretly thought +the rooms rather bare, but Dr. Bellair was +highly in favor of that very feature.</p> + +<p>"You see Dick don't believe in jimcracks +and dirt-catchers, and he likes sunlight. +Books all under glass—no curtains to wash +and darn and fuss with—none of those fancy +pincushions and embroidered thingummies—I +quite envy him."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you have one yourself, +Johnny?" he asked her.</p> + +<p>"Because I don't like housekeeping," she +said, "and you do. Masculine instinct, I +suppose!"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew with her +sudden one-syllable chuckle.</p> + +<p>The girls followed from room to room, +scarce noticing these comments, or the eager +politeness of the four pleasant-faced young +fellows who formed the doctor's present family. +She could not but note the intelligent +efficiency of the place, but felt more deeply +the underlying spirit, the big-brotherly kindness +which prompted his hospitable care of +these nice boys. It was delightful to hear +them praise him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span></p> + +<p>"O, he's simply great," whispered Archie +Burns, a ruddy-cheeked young Scotchman. +"He pretends there's nothing to it—that he +wants company—that we pay for all we get—and +that sort of thing, you know; but this +is no boarding house, I can tell you!" And +then he flushed till his very hair grew redder—remembering +that the guests came from +one.</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" Vivian cordially agreed +with him. "You must have lovely times here. +I don't wonder you appreciate it!" and she +smiled so sweetly that he felt at ease again.</p> + +<p>Beneath all this cheery good will and the +gay chatter of the group her quick sense +caught an impression of something hidden +and repressed. She felt the large and quiet +beauty of the rooms; the smooth comfort, +the rational, pleasant life; but still more she +felt a deep keynote of loneliness.</p> + +<p>The pictures told her most. She noted +one after another with inward comment.</p> + +<p>"There's 'Persepolis,'" she said to herself—"loneliness +incarnate; and that other lion-and-ruin +thing,—loneliness and decay. Gerome's +'Lion in the Desert,' too, the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> +thing. Then Daniel—more lions, more loneliness, +but power. 'Circe and the Companions +of Ulysses'—cruel, but loneliness and +power again—of a sort. There's that 'Island +of Death' too—a beautiful thing—but O +dear!—And young Burne-Jones' 'Vampire' +was in one of the bedrooms—that one +he shut the door of!"</p> + +<p>While they ate and drank in the long, +low-ceiled wide-windowed room below, she +sought the bookcases and looked them over +curiously. Yes—there was Marcus Aurelius, +Epictetus, Plato, Emerson and Carlisle—the +great German philosophers, the +French, the English—all showing signs of +use.</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale observed her inspection. It +seemed to vaguely annoy him, as if someone +were asking too presuming questions.</p> + +<p>"Interested in philosophy, Miss Lane?" +he asked, drily, coming toward her.</p> + +<p>"Yes—so far as I understand it," she answered.</p> + +<p>"And how far does that go?"</p> + +<p>She felt the inference, and raised her soft +eyes to his rather reproachfully.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not far, I am afraid. But I do know +that these books teach one how to bear +trouble."</p> + +<p>He met her gaze steadily, but something +seemed to shut, deep in his eyes. They +looked as unassailable as a steel safe. He +straightened his big shoulders with a defiant +shrug, and returned to sit by Mrs. Pettigrew, +to whom he made himself most agreeable.</p> + +<p>The four young men did the honors of +the tea table, with devotion to all; and some +especially intended for the younger ladies. +Miss Elder cried out in delight at the +tea.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get it, Dr. Hale? Can +it be had here?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not. That is a particular +brand. Sun brought me a chest of it when +he came from his visit."</p> + +<p>When they went home each lady was +given a present, Chinese fashion—lychee +nuts for Sue, lily-bulbs for Vivian, a large +fan for Mrs. Pettigrew, and a package of +the wonderful tea for Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>"That's a splendid thing for him to do,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> +she said, as they walked back. "Such a safe +place for those boys!"</p> + +<p>"It's lovely of him," Sue agreed. "I don't +care if he is a woman-hater."</p> + +<p>Vivian said nothing, but admitted, on +being questioned, that "he was very interesting."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew was delighted with their +visit. "I like this country," she declared. +"Things are different. A man couldn't do +that in Bainville—he'd be talked out of +town."</p> + +<p>That night she sought Dr. Bellair and +questioned her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about that man," she demanded. +"How old is he?"</p> + +<p>"Not as old as he looks by ten years," +said the doctor. "No, I can't tell you why +his hair's gray."</p> + +<p>"What woman upset him?" asked the old +lady.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair regarded her thoughtfully. +"He has made me no confidences, Mrs. Pettigrew, +but I think you are right. It must +have been a severe shock—for he is very +bitter against women. It is a shame, too, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> +he is one of the best of men. He prefers +men patients—and gets them. The women +he will treat if he must, but he is kindest +to the 'fallen' ones, and inclined to +sneer at the rest. And yet he's the +straightest man I ever knew. I'm thankful +to have him come here so much. He +needs it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew marched off, nodding +sagely. She felt a large and growing interest +in her new surroundings, more especially +in the numerous boys, but was somewhat +amazed at her popularity among them. +These young men were mainly exiles from +home; the older ones, though more settled +perhaps, had been even longer away from +their early surroundings; and a real live +Grandma, as Jimmy Saunders said, was an +"attraction."</p> + +<p>"If you were mine," he told her laughingly, +"I'd get a pianist and some sort of +little side show, and exhibit you all up and +down the mountains!—for good money. +Why some of the boys never had a +Grandma, and those that did haven't seen +one since they were kids!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very complimentary, I'm sure—but impracticable," +said the old lady.</p> + +<p>The young men came to her with confidences, +they asked her advice, they kept her +amused with tales of their adventures; +some true, some greatly diversified; and she +listened with a shrewd little smile and a wag +of the head—so they never were quite sure +whether they were "fooling" Grandma or +not.</p> + +<p>To her, as a general confidant, came Miss +Peeder with a tale of woe. The little hall +that she rented for her dancing classes had +burned down on a windy Sunday, and there +was no other suitable and within her means.</p> + +<p>"There's Sloan's; but it's over a barroom—it's +really not possible. And Baker's is +too expensive. The church rooms they won't +let for dancing—I don't know what I <i>am</i> to +do, Mrs. Pettigrew!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you ask Orella Elder to rent +you her dining-room—it's big enough. They +could move the tables——"</p> + +<p>Miss Peeder's eyes opened in hopeful surprise. +"Oh, if she <i>would</i>! Do <i>you</i> think +she would? It would be ideal."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Elder being called upon, was quite +fluttered by the proposition, and consulted +Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said that lady. "Dancing is +first rate exercise—good for us all. Might +as well have the girls dance here under your +eye as going out all the time—and it's some +addition to the income. They'll pay extra +for refreshments, too. I'd do it."</p> + +<p>With considerable trepidation Miss Orella +consented, and their first "class night" was +awaited by her in a state of suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p>To have music and dancing—"with refreshments"—twice +a week—in her own +house—this seemed to her like a career of +furious dissipation.</p> + +<p>Vivian, though with a subtle sense of +withdrawal from a too general intimacy, was +inwardly rather pleased; and Susie bubbled +over with delight.</p> + +<p>"Oh what fun!" she cried. "I never had +enough dancing! I don't believe anybody +has!"</p> + +<p>"We don't belong to the Class, you +know," Vivian reminded her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh yes! Miss Peeder says we must <i>all</i> +come—that she would feel <i>very</i> badly if we +didn't; and the boarders have all joined—to +a man!"</p> + +<p>Everyone seemed pleased except Mrs. +Jeaune. Dancing she considered immoral; +music, almost as much so—and Miss Elder +trembled lest she lose her. But the offer of +extra payments for herself and son on these +two nights each week proved sufficient to +quell her scruples.</p> + +<p>Theophile doubled up the tables, set chairs +around the walls, waxed the floor, and was +then sent to bed and locked in by his anxious +mother.</p> + +<p>She labored, during the earlier hours of +the evening, in the preparation of sandwiches +and coffee, cake and lemonade—which +viands were later shoved through the +slide by the austere cook, and distributed as +from a counter by Miss Peeder's assistant. +Mrs. Jeaune would come no nearer, but +peered darkly upon them through the peep-hole +in the swinging door.</p> + +<p>It was a very large room, due to the time +when many "mealers" had been accommo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span>dated. +There were windows on each side, +windows possessing the unusual merit of +opening from the top; wide double doors +made the big front hall a sort of anteroom, +and the stairs and piazza furnished opportunities +for occasional couples who felt the +wish for retirement. In the right-angled +passages, long hat-racks on either side were +hung with "Derbies," "Kossuths" and "Stetsons," +and the ladies took off their wraps, +and added finishing touches to their toilettes +in Miss Elder's room.</p> + +<p>The house was full of stir and bustle, of +pretty dresses, of giggles and whispers, and +the subdued exchange of comments among +the gentlemen. The men predominated, so +that there was no lack of partners for any +of the ladies.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella accepted her new position +with a half-terrified enjoyment. Not in +many years had she found herself so in demand. +Her always neat and appropriate +costume had blossomed suddenly for the +occasion; her hair, arranged by the affectionate +and admiring Susie, seemed softer +and more voluminous. Her eyes grew bril<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span>liant, +and the delicate color in her face +warmed and deepened.</p> + +<p>Miss Peeder had installed a pianola to +cover emergencies, but on this opening evening +she had both piano and violin—good, +lively, sole-stirring music. Everyone was +on the floor, save a few gentlemen who evidently +wished they were.</p> + +<p>Sue danced with the gaiety and lightness +of a kitten among wind-blown leaves, Vivian +with gliding grace, smooth and harmonious, +Miss Orella with skill and evident enjoyment, +though still conscientious in every accurate +step.</p> + +<p>Presently Mrs. Pettigrew appeared, sedately +glorious in black silk, jet-beaded, and +with much fine old lace. She bore in front +of her a small wicker rocking chair, and +headed for a corner near the door. Her +burden was promptly taken from her by one +of the latest comers, a tall person with a +most devoted manner.</p> + +<p>"Allow <i>me</i>, ma'am," he said, and placed +the little chair at the point she indicated. +"No lady ought to rustle for rockin' chairs +with so many gentlemen present."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span></p> + +<p>He was a man of somewhat advanced age, +but his hair was still more black than white +and had a curly, wiggish effect save as its +indigenous character was proven by three +small bare patches of a conspicuous nature.</p> + +<p>He bowed so low before her that she could +not help observing these distinctions, and +then answered her startled look before she +had time to question him.</p> + +<p>"Yes'm," he explained, passing his hand +over head; "scalped three several times and +left for dead. But I'm here yet. Mr. Elmer +Skee, at your service."</p> + +<p>"I thought when an Indian scalped you +there wasn't enough hair left to make +Greeley whiskers," said Grandma, rising to +the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, ma'am, they ain't so efficacious +as all that—not in these parts. I don't know +what the ancient Mohawks may have done, +but the Apaches only want a patch—smaller +to carry and just as good to show off. +They're collectors, you know—like a phil-e-a-to-lol-o-gist!"</p> + +<p>"Skee, did you say?" pursued the old +lady, regarding him with interest and con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span>vinced +that there was something wrong with +the name of that species of collector.</p> + +<p>"Yes'm. Skee—Elmer Skee. No'm, <i>not</i> +pronounced 'she.' Do I look like it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee was an interesting relic of that +stormy past of the once Wild West which +has left so few surviving. He had crossed +the plains as a child, he told her, in the days +of the prairie schooner, had then and there +lost his parents and his first bit of scalp, was +picked up alive by a party of "movers," and +had grown up in a playground of sixteen +states and territories.</p> + +<p>Grandma gazed upon him fascinated. "I +judge you might be interesting to talk +with," she said, after he had given her this +brief sketch of his youth.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am," said Mr. Skee. +"May I have the pleasure of this dance?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't danced in thirty years," said +she, dubitating.</p> + +<p>"The more reason for doing it now," he +calmly insisted.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and they +forthwith executed a species of march, the +gentleman pacing with the elaborate grace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +of a circus horse, and Grandma stepping at +his side with great decorum.</p> + +<p>Later on, warming to the occasion, Mr. +Skee frisked and high-stepped with the +youngest and gayest, and found the supper +so wholly to his liking that he promptly applied +for a room, and as soon as one was +vacant it was given to him.</p> + +<p>Vivian danced to her heart's content and +enjoyed the friendly merriment about her; +but when Fordham Greer took her out on +the long piazza to rest and breathe a little, +she saw the dark bulk of the house across +the street and the office with its half-lit +window, and could not avoid thinking of the +lonely man there.</p> + +<p>He had not come to the dance, no one expected +that, of course; but all his boys had +come and were having the best of times.</p> + +<p>"It's his own fault, of course; but it's a +shame," she thought.</p> + +<p>The music sounded gaily from within, +and young Greer urged for another dance.</p> + +<p>She stood there for a moment, hesitating, +her hand on his arm, when a tall figure came +briskly up the street from the station, turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> +in at their gate, came up the steps——</p> + +<p>The girl gave a little cry, and shrank back +for an instant, then eagerly came forward +and gave her hand to him.</p> + +<p>It was Morton.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>NEW FRIENDS AND OLD</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:31%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twould be too bad to be true, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wonders never cease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twould be too bad to be true, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If all one's swans were geese!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Vivian's startled cry of welcome +was heard by Susie, perched on +the stairs with several eager youths +gathered as close as might be about her, +and several pairs of hands helped her swift +descent to greet her brother.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella, dropping Mr. Dykeman's +arm, came flying from the ball-room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Morton! Morton! When did you +come? Why didn't you let us know? Oh, +my <i>dear</i> boy!"</p> + +<p>She haled him into their special parlor, +took his hat away from him, pulled out the +most comfortable chair.</p> + +<p>"Have you had supper? And to think +that we haven't a room for you! But there's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> +to be one vacant—next week. I'll see that +there is. You shall have my room, dear boy. +Oh, I am so glad to see you!"</p> + +<p>Susie gave him a sisterly hug, while he +kissed her, somewhat gingerly, on the cheek, +and then she perched herself on the arm of +a chair and gazed upon him with affectionate +interest. Vivian gazed also, busily +engaged in fitting present facts to past +memories.</p> + +<p>Surely he had not looked just like that! +The Morton of her girlhood's dream had a +clear complexion, a bright eye, a brave and +gallant look—the voice only had not +changed.</p> + +<p>But here was Morton in present fact, +something taller, it seemed, and a good deal +heavier, well dressed in a rather vivid way, +and making merry over his aunt's devotion.</p> + +<p>"Well, if it doesn't seem like old times to +have Aunt 'Rella running 'round like a hen +with her head cut off, to wait on me." The +simile was not unjust, though certainly +ungracious, but his aunt was far too happy +to resent it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> + +<p>"You sit right still!" she said. "I'll go +and bring you some supper. You must be +hungry."</p> + +<p>"Now do sit down and hear to reason, +Auntie!" he said, reaching out a detaining +hand and pulling her into a seat beside him. +"I'm not hungry a little bit; had a good feed +on the diner. Never mind about the room—I +don't know how long I can stay—and I +left my grip at the Allen House anyway. +How well you're looking, Auntie! I declare +I'd hardly have known you! And +here's little Susie—a regular belle! And +Vivian—don't suppose I dare call you +Vivian now, Miss Lane?"</p> + +<p>Vivian gave a little embarrassed laugh. +If he had used her first name she would +never have noticed it. Now that he asked +her, she hardly knew what answer to make, +but presently said:</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, I always call you +Morton."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll come when you call me," he +cheerfully replied, leaning forward, elbows +on knees, and looking around the pretty +room.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span></p> + +<p>"How well you're fixed here. Guess it +was a wise move, Aunt 'Rella. But I'd +never have dreamed you'd do it. Your Dr. +Bellair must have been a powerful promoter +to get you all out here. I wouldn't have +thought anybody in Bainville could move—but +me. Why, there's Grandma, as I live!" +and he made a low bow.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew, hearing of his arrival +from the various would-be partners of the +two girls, had come to the door and stood +there regarding him with a non-committal +expression. At this address she frowned +perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"My name is Mrs. Pettigrew, young man. +I've known you since you were a scallawag +in short pants, but I'm no Grandma of +yours."</p> + +<p>"A thousand pardons! Please excuse me, +Mrs. Pettigrew," he said with exaggerated +politeness. "Won't you be seated?" And +he set a chair for her with a flourish.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, no," she said. "I'll go back," +and went back forthwith, attended by Mr. +Skee.</p> + +<p>"One of these happy family reunions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> +ma'am?" he asked with approving interest. +"If there's one thing I do admire, it's a +happy surprise."</p> + +<p>"'Tis some of a surprise," Mrs. Pettigrew +admitted, and became rather glum, in spite +of Mr. Skee's undeniably entertaining conversation.</p> + +<p>"Some sort of a fandango going on?" +Morton asked after a few rather stiff moments. +"Don't let me interrupt! On with +the dance! Let joy be unconfined! And if +she must"—he looked at Vivian, and went +on somewhat lamely—"dance, why not dance +with me? May I have the pleasure, Miss +Lane?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," cried Miss Orella, "we'd much +rather be with you!"</p> + +<p>"But I'd rather dance than talk, any +time," said he, and crooked his elbow to +Vivian with an impressive bow.</p> + +<p>Somewhat uncertain in her own mind, and +unwilling to again disappoint Fordham +Greer, who had already lost one dance and +was visibly waiting for her in the hall, the +girl hesitated; but Susie said, "Go on, give +him part of one. I'll tell Mr. Greer." So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> +Vivian took Morton's proffered arm and +returned to the floor.</p> + +<p>She had never danced with him in the +old days; no special memory was here to +contrast with the present; yet something +seemed vaguely wrong. He danced well, +but more actively than she admired, and +during the rest of the evening devoted himself +to the various ladies with an air of long +usage.</p> + +<p>She was glad when the dancing was over +and he had finally departed for his hotel, +glad when Susie had at last ceased chattering +and dropped reluctantly to sleep.</p> + +<p>For a long time she lay awake trying to +straighten out things in her mind and account +to herself for the sense of vague confusion +which oppressed her.</p> + +<p>Morton had come back! That was the +prominent thing, of which she repeatedly +assured herself. How often she had looked +forward to that moment, and felt in anticipation +a vivid joy. She had thought of it in +a hundred ways, always with pleasure, but +never in this particular way—among so +many strangers.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span></p> + +<p>It must be that which confused her, she +thought, for she was extremely sensitive to +the attitude of those about her. She felt an +unspoken criticism of Morton on the part +of her new friends in the house, and resented +it; yet in her own mind a faint comparison +would obtrude itself between his manners +and those of Jimmie Saunders or Mr. Greer, +for instance. The young Scotchman she +had seen regarding Morton with an undisguised +dislike, and this she inwardly resented, +even while herself disliking his bearing +to his aunt—and to her grandmother.</p> + +<p>It was all contradictory and unsatisfying, +and she fell asleep saying over to herself, +"He has come back! He has come back!" +and trying to feel happy.</p> + +<p>Aunt Orella was happy at any rate. She +would not rest until her beloved nephew was +installed in the house, practically turning out +Mr. Gibbs in order to accommodate him. +Morton protested, talked of business and of +having to go away at any time; and Mr. +Gibbs, who still "mealed" with them, secretly +wished he would.</p> + +<p>But Morton did not go away. It was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> +long time since he had been petted and +waited on, and he enjoyed it hugely, treating +his aunt with a serio-comic affection that +was sometimes funny, sometimes disagreeable.</p> + +<p>At least Susie found it so. Her first surprise +over, she fell back on a fund of sound +common sense, strengthened by present experience, +and found a good deal to criticise +in her returned brother. She was so young +when he left, and he had teased her so unmercifully +in those days, that her early +memories of him were rather mixed in sentiment, +and now he appeared, not as the +unquestioned idol of a manless family in a +well-nigh manless town, but as one among +many; and of those many several were easily +his superiors.</p> + +<p>He was her brother, and she loved him, of +course; but there were so many wanting to +be "brothers" if not more, and they were so +much more polite! Morton petted, patronized +and teased her, and she took it all in +good part, as after the manner of brothers, +but his demeanor with other people was not +to her mind.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span></p> + +<p>His adoring aunt, finding no fault whatever +with this well-loved nephew, lavished +upon him the affection of her unused +motherhood, and he seemed to find it a +patent joke, open to everyone, that she +should be so fond.</p> + +<p>To this and, indeed, to his general walk +and conversation, Mrs. Pettigrew took great +exception.</p> + +<p>"Fine boy—Rella's nephew!" she said to +Dr. Bellair late one night when, seeing a +light over her neighbor's transom, she +dropped in for a little chat. Conversation +seemed easier for her here than in the atmosphere +of Bainville.</p> + +<p>"Fine boy—eh? Nice complexion!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair was reading a heavy-weight +book by a heavier-weight specialist. She laid +it down, took off her eyeglasses, and rubbed +them.</p> + +<p>"Better not kiss him," she said.</p> + +<p>"I thought as much!" said Grandma. "I +<i>thought</i> as much! Huh!"</p> + +<p>"Nice world, isn't it?" the doctor suggested +genially.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing the matter with the world, that +I know of," her visitor answered.</p> + +<p>"Nice people, then—how's that?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing the matter with the people but +foolishness—plain foolishness. Good land! +Shall we <i>never</i> learn anything!"</p> + +<p>"Not till it's too late apparently," the +doctor gloomily agreed, turning slowly in +her swivel chair. "That boy never was +taught anything to protect him. What did +Rella know? Or for that matter, what do any +boys' fathers and mothers know? Nothing, +you'd think. If they do, they won't teach it +to their children."</p> + +<p>"Time they did!" said the old lady decidedly. +"High time they did! It's never +too late to learn. I've learned a lot out of +you and your books, Jane Bellair. Interesting +reading! I don't suppose you could give +an absolute opinion now, could you?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Dr. Bellair gravely, "no, I +couldn't; not yet, anyway."</p> + +<p>"Well, we've got to keep our eyes open," +Mrs. Pettigrew concluded. "When I think +of that girl of mine——"</p> + +<p>"Yes—or any girl," the doctor added.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span></p> + +<p>"You look out for any girl—that's your +business; I'll look out for mine—if I can."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew's were not the only eyes +to scrutinize Morton Elder. Through the +peep-hole in the swing door to the kitchen, +Jeanne Jeaune watched him darkly with +one hand on her lean chest.</p> + +<p>She kept her watch on whatever went on +in that dining-room, and on the two elderly +waitresses whom she had helped Miss Elder +to secure when the house filled up. They +were rather painfully unattractive, but +seemed likely to stay where no young and +pretty damsel could be counted on for a +year. Morton joked with perseverance +about their looks, and those who were most +devoted to Susie seemed to admire his wit, +while Vivian's special admirers found it +pointless in the extreme.</p> + +<p>"Your waitresses are the limit, Auntie," +he said, "but the cook is all to the good. Is +she a plain cook or a handsome one?"</p> + +<p>"Handsome is as handsome does, young +man," Mrs. Pettigrew pointedly replied. +"Mrs. Jones is a first-class cook and her +looks are neither here nor there."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span></p> + +<p>"You fill me with curiosity," he replied. +"I must go out and make her acquaintance. +I always get solid with the cook; it's worth +while."</p> + +<p>The face at the peep-hole darkened and +turned away with a bitter and determined +look, and Master Theophile was hastened +at his work till his dim intelligence wondered, +and then blessed with an unexpected +cookie.</p> + +<p>Vivian, Morton watched and followed assiduously. +She was much changed from +what he remembered—the young, frightened, +slender girl he had kissed under the +lilac bushes, a kiss long since forgotten +among many.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the very number of his subsequent +acquaintances during a varied and not +markedly successful career in the newer +states made this type of New England +womanhood more marked. Girls he had +known of various sorts, women old and +young had been kind to him, for Morton +had the rough good looks and fluent manner +which easily find their way to the good will +of many female hearts; but this gentle re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span>finement +of manner and delicate beauty had +a novel charm for him.</p> + +<p>Sitting by his aunt at meals he studied +Vivian opposite, he watched her in their few +quiet evenings together, under the soft +lamplight on Miss Elder's beloved "center +table;" and studied her continually in the +stimulating presence of many equally devoted +men.</p> + +<p>All that was best in him was stirred by +her quiet grace, her reserved friendliness; +and the spur of rivalry was by no means +wanting. Both the girls had their full share +of masculine attention in that busy houseful, +each having her own particular devotees, +and the position of comforter to the others.</p> + +<p>Morton became openly devoted to Vivian, +and followed her about, seeking every occasion +to be alone with her, a thing difficult to +accomplish.</p> + +<p>"I don't ever get a chance to see anything +of you," he said. "Come on, take a walk +with me—won't you?"</p> + +<p>"You can see me all day, practically," she +answered. "It seems to me that I never saw +a man with so little to do."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now that's too bad, Vivian! Just because +a fellow's out of a job for a while! It +isn't the first time, either; in my business +you work like—like anything, part of the +time, and then get laid off. I work hard +enough when I'm at it."</p> + +<p>"Do you like it—that kind of work?" the +girl asked.</p> + +<p>They were sitting in the family parlor, +but the big hall was as usual well occupied, +and some one or more of the boarders always +eager to come in. Miss Elder at this moment +had departed for special conference +with her cook, and Susie was at the theatre +with Jimmie Saunders. Fordham Greer +had asked Vivian, as had Morton also, but +she declined both on the ground that she +didn't like that kind of play. Mrs. Pettigrew, +being joked too persistently about +her fondness for "long whist," had retired to +her room—but then, her room was divided +from the parlor only by a thin partition and +a door with a most inefficacious latch.</p> + +<p>"Come over here by the fire," said Morton, +"and I'll tell you all about it."</p> + +<p>He seated himself on a sofa, comfortably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> +adjacent to the fireplace, but Vivian preferred +a low rocker.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you mean travelling—and selling +goods?" he pursued. "Yes, I like it. +There's lots of change—and you meet people. +I'd hate to be shut up in an office."</p> + +<p>"But do you—get anywhere with it? Is +there any outlook for you? Anything worth +doing?"</p> + +<p>"There's a good bit of money to be made, +if you mean that; that is, if a fellow's a good +salesman. I'm no slouch myself, when I +feel in the mood. But it's easy come, easy +go, you see. And it's uncertain. There are +times like this, with nothing doing."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean money, altogether," said +the girl meditatively, "but the work itself; +I don't see any future for you."</p> + +<p>Morton was pleased with her interest. +Reaching between his knees he seized the +edge of the small sofa and dragged it a +little nearer, quite unconscious that the act +was distasteful to her.</p> + +<p>Though twenty-five years old, Vivian was +extremely young in many ways, and her introspection +had spent itself in tending the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> +inner shrine of his early image. That ikon +was now jarringly displaced by this insistent +presence, and she could not satisfy herself +yet as to whether the change pleased or displeased +her. Again and again his manner +antagonized her, but his visible devotion +carried an undeniable appeal, and his voice +stirred the deep well of emotion in her heart.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Vivian," he said, "you've no +idea how it goes through me to have you +speak like that! You see I've been knocking +around here for all this time, and I +haven't had a soul to take an interest. A +fellow needs the society of good women—like +you."</p> + +<p>It is an old appeal, and always reaches +the mark. To any women it is a compliment, +and to a young girl, doubly alluring. As +she looked at him, the very things she most +disliked, his too free manner, his coarsened +complexion, a certain look about the eyes, +suddenly assumed a new interest as proofs +of his loneliness and lack of right companionship. +What Mrs. St. Cloud had told her +of the ennobling influence of a true woman, +flashed upon her mind.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span></p> + +<p>"You see, I had no mother," he said simply—"and +Aunt Rella spoiled me—." He +looked now like the boy she used to know.</p> + +<p>"Of course I ought to have behaved better," +he admitted. "I was ungrateful—I +can see it now. But it did seem to me I +couldn't stand that town a day longer!"</p> + +<p>She could sympathize with this feeling +and showed it.</p> + +<p>"Then when a fellow knocks around as I +have so long, he gets to where he doesn't care +a hang for anything. Seeing you again +makes a lot of difference, Vivian. I think, +perhaps—I could take a new start."</p> + +<p>"Oh do! Do!" she said eagerly. "You're +young enough, Morton. You can do anything +if you'll make up your mind to it."</p> + +<p>"And you'll help me?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll help you—if I can," said +she.</p> + +<p>A feeling of sincere remorse for wasted +opportunities rose in the young man's mind; +also, in the presence of this pure-eyed girl, +a sense of shame for his previous habits. He +walked to the window, his hands in his pockets, +and looked out blankly for a moment.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span></p> + +<p>"A fellow does a lot of things he +shouldn't," he began, clearing his throat; +she met him more than half way with the +overflowing generosity of youth and ignorance:</p> + +<p>"Never mind what you've done, Morton—you're +going to do differently now! +Susie'll be so proud of you—and Aunt +Orella!"</p> + +<p>"And you?" He turned upon her suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Oh—I? Of course! I shall be very +proud of my old friend."</p> + +<p>She met his eyes bravely, with a lovely +look of hope and courage, and again his +heart smote him.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will," he said and straightened +his broad shoulders manfully.</p> + +<p>"Morton Elder!" cried his aunt, bustling +in with deep concern in her voice, "What's +this I hear about you're having a sore +throat?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, I hope," said he cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Now, Morton"—Vivian showed new solicitude—"you +know you have got a sore +throat; Susie told me."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I wish she'd hold her tongue," he +protested. "It's nothing at all—be all right +in a jiffy. No, I won't take any of your +fixings, Auntie."</p> + +<p>"I want Dr. Bellair to look at it anyhow," +said his aunt, anxiously. "She'll know if it's +diphtheritic or anything. She's coming in."</p> + +<p>"She can just go out again," he said with +real annoyance. "If there's anything I've +no use for it's a woman doctor!"</p> + +<p>"Oh hush, hush!" cried Vivian, too late.</p> + +<p>"Don't apologize," said Dr. Bellair from +her doorway. "I'm not in the least offended. +Indeed, I had rather surmised that that was +your attitude; I didn't come in to prescribe, +but to find Mrs. Pettigrew."</p> + +<p>"Want me?" inquired the old lady from +her doorway. "Who's got a sore throat?"</p> + +<p>"Morton has," Vivian explained, "and he +won't let Aunt Rella—why where is she?"</p> + +<p>Miss Elder had gone out as suddenly as +she had entered.</p> + +<p>"Camphor's good for sore throat," Mrs. +Pettigrew volunteered. "Three or four +drops on a piece of sugar. Is it the swelled +kind, or the kind that smarts?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh—Halifax!" exclaimed Morton, disgustedly. +"It isn't <i>any</i> kind. I haven't a +sore throat."</p> + +<p>"Camphor's good for cold sores; you have +one of them anyhow," the old lady persisted, +producing a little bottle and urging it upon +Morton. "Just keep it wet with camphor +as often as you think of it, and it'll go away."</p> + +<p>Vivian looked on, interested and sympathetic, +but Morton put his hand to his lip +and backed away.</p> + +<p>"If you ladies don't stop trying to doctor +me, I'll clear out to-morrow, so there!"</p> + +<p>This appalling threat was fortunately unheard +by his aunt, who popped in again at +this moment, dragging Dr. Hale with her. +Dr. Bellair smiled quietly to herself.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't tell him what I wanted him +for, or he wouldn't have come, I'm sure—doctors +are so funny," said Miss Elder, +breathlessly, "but here he is. Now, Dr. +Hale, here's a foolish boy who won't listen +to reason, and I'm real worried about him. +I want you to look at his throat."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale glanced briefly at Morton's +angry face.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> + +<p>"The patient seems to be of age, Miss Elder; +and, if you'll excuse me, does not seem +to have authorized this call."</p> + +<p>"My affectionate family are bound to have +me an invalid," Morton explained. "I'm in +imminent danger of hot baths, cold presses, +mustard plasters, aconite, belladonna and +quinine—and if I can once reach my hat—"</p> + +<p>He sidled to the door and fled in mock +terror.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your good intentions, +Miss Elder," Dr. Hale remarked drily. +"You can bring water to the horse, but you +can't make him drink it, you see."</p> + +<p>"Now that that young man has gone we +might have a game of whist," Mrs. Pettigrew +suggested, looking not ill-pleased.</p> + +<p>"For which you do not need me in the +least," and Dr. Hale was about to leave, but +Dr. Bellair stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Don't be an everlasting Winter woodchuck, +Dick! Sit down and play; do be +good. I've got to see old Mrs. Graham yet; +she refuses to go to sleep without it—knowing +I'm so near. By by."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew insisted on playing with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> +Miss Elder, so Vivian had the questionable +pleasure of Dr. Hale as a partner. He was +an expert, used to frequent and scientific +play, and by no means patient with the +girl's mistakes.</p> + +<p>He made no protest at a lost trick, but explained +briefly between hands what she +should have remembered and how the cards +lay, till she grew quite discouraged.</p> + +<p>Her game was but mediocre, played only +to oblige; and she never could see why people +cared so much about a mere pastime. +Pride came to her rescue at last; the more he +criticised, the more determined she grew to +profit by all this advice; but her mind would +wander now and then to Morton, to his +young life so largely wasted, it appeared, +and to what hope might lie before him. Could +she be the help and stimulus he seemed to +think? How much did he mean by asking +her to help him?</p> + +<p>"Why waste a thirteenth trump on your +partner's thirteenth card?" Dr. Hale was +asking.</p> + +<p>She flushed a deep rose color and lifted +appealing eyes to him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do forgive me; my mind was elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Will you not invite it to return?" he +suggested drily.</p> + +<p>He excused himself after a few games, +and the girl at last was glad to have him go. +She wanted to be alone with her thoughts.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew, sitting unaccountably late +at her front window, watched the light burn +steadily in the small office at the opposite +corner. Presently she saw a familiar figure +slip in there, and, after a considerable stay, +come out quietly, cross the street, and let +himself in at their door.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>SIDE LIGHTS.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:32%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High shines the golden shield in front,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To those who are not blind;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And clear and bright<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In all men's sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The silver shield behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In breadth and sheen each face is seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How tall it is, how wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But its thinness shows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To only those<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who stand on either side.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Theophile wept aloud in the dining-room, +nursing one hand in the +other, like a hurt monkey.</p> + +<p>Most of the diners had departed, but Professor +Toomey and Mr. Cuthbert still lingered +about Miss Susie's corner, to the evident +displeasure of Mr. Saunders, who lingered +also.</p> + +<p>Miss Susie smiled upon them all; and Mr. +Saunders speculated endlessly as to whether +this was due to her general friendliness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> +disposition, to an interest in pleasing her +aunt's boarders, to personal preference, or, +as he sometimes imagined, to a desire to +tease him.</p> + +<p>Morton was talking earnestly with Vivian +at the other end of the table, from which the +two angular waitresses had some time since +removed the last plate. One of them opened +the swing door a crack and thrust her head +in.</p> + +<p>"He's burnt his hand," she said, "and his +Ma's out. We don't dare go near him." +Both of these damsels professed great terror +of the poor boy, though he was invariably +good natured, and as timid as a rabbit.</p> + +<p>"Do get the doctor!" cried Susie, nervously; +she never felt at ease with Theophile.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair, I fear, is not in her office," +Professor Toomey announced. "We might +summon Dr. Hale."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cuthbert, rising +heavily. "He's a great baby, that's all. +Here! Quit that howling and show me your +hand!"</p> + +<p>He advanced upon Theophile, who fled +toward Vivian. Morton rose in her de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span>fence. +"Get out!" he said, "Go back to the +kitchen. There's nothing the matter with +you."</p> + +<p>"Wait till you get burned, and see if you +think it's nothing," Jimmy Saunders remarked +with some acidity. He did not like +Mr. Elder. "Come here youngster, let me +see it."</p> + +<p>But the boy was afraid of all of them, and +cowered in a corner, still bawling. "Stop +your noise," Mr. Cuthbert shouted, "Get +out of this, or I'll put you out."</p> + +<p>Vivian rose to her feet. "You will do +nothing of the kind. If you, all of you, will +go away, I can quiet Theophile, myself."</p> + +<p>Susie went promptly. She had every confidence +in her friend's management. Mr. +Cuthbert was sulky, but followed Susie; and +Mr. Saunders, after some hesitation, followed +Susie, too.</p> + +<p>Morton lingered, distrustful.</p> + +<p>"Please go, Morton. I know how to manage +him. Just leave us alone," Vivian urged.</p> + +<p>"You'd better let me put him out, and +keep him out, till the old woman comes +back," Morton insisted.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span></p> + +<p>"You mean kindly, I don't doubt, but +you're making me very angry," said the girl, +flushing; and he reluctantly left the room. +Professor Toomey had departed long since, +to fulfill his suggestion of calling Dr. Hale, +but when that gentleman appeared, he found +that Vivian had quieted the boy, stayed him +with flagons and comforted him with apples, +as it were, and bound up his hand in wet +cooking soda.</p> + +<p>"It's not a very bad burn," she told the +doctor, "but it hurt, and he was frightened. +He is afraid of everybody but his mother, +and the men were cross to him."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Dr. Hale, watching Theophile +as he munched his apple, keeping carefully +behind Vivian and very near her. "He +does not seem much afraid of you, I notice, +and he's used to me. The soda is all right. +Where did you learn first aid to the injured, +and how to handle—persons of limited understanding?"</p> + +<p>"The former I studied. The latter comes +by nature, I think," replied the girl, annoyed.</p> + +<p>He laughed, rather suddenly. "It's a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> +good quality, often needed in this world."</p> + +<p>"What's all this rumpus?" demanded +Grandma, appearing at the door. "Waking +me up out of my nap!" Grandma's smooth, +fine, still dark hair, which she wore in "water +waves," was somewhat disarranged, and she +held a little shawl about her.</p> + +<p>"Only the household baby, playing with +fire," Dr. Hale answered. "Miss Lane resolved +herself into a Red Cross society, and +attended to the wounded. However I think +I'll have a look at it now I'm here."</p> + +<p>Then was Vivian surprised, and compelled +to admiration, to see with what wise gentleness +the big man won the confidence of the +frightened boy, examined the hurt hand, +and bound it up again.</p> + +<p>"You'll do, all right, won't you Theophile," +he said, and offered him a shining +nickel and a lozenge, "Which will you have, +old man?"</p> + +<p>After some cautious hesitation the boy +chose the lozenge, and hastily applied it +where it would do the most good.</p> + +<p>"Where's Mrs. Jones all this time?" suddenly +demanded Grandma, who had gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> +back to her room and fetched forth three +fat, pink gumdrops for the further consolation +of the afflicted.</p> + +<p>"She had to go out to buy clothes for him, +she hardly ever leaves him you know," Vivian +explained. "And the girls out there are +so afraid that they won't take any care of +him."</p> + +<p>This was true enough, but Vivian did not +know that "Mrs. Jones" had returned and, +peering through her favorite peephole, had +seen her send out the others, and attend to +the boy's burn with her own hand. Jeanne +Jeaune was not a sentimental person, and +judged from her son's easy consolation that +he was little hurt, but she watched the girl's +prompt tenderness with tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"She regards him, as any other boy;" +thought the mother. "His infirmity, she does +not recall it." Dr. Hale had long since won +her approval, and when Theophile at last +ran out, eager to share his gumdrops, he +found her busy as usual in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>She was a silent woman, professionally +civil to the waitresses, but never cordial. The +place pleased her, she was saving money, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> +she knew that there must be <i>some</i> waitresses—these +were probably no worse than others. +For her unfortunate son she expected little, +and strove to keep him near her so far as +possible; but Vivian's real kindness touched +her deeply.</p> + +<p>She kept a sharp eye on whatever went on +in the dining-room, and what with the frequent +dances and the little groups which +used to hang about the table after meals, or +fill a corner of the big room for quiet chats, +she had good opportunities.</p> + +<p>Morton's visible devotion she watched with +deep disapproval; though she was not at all +certain that her "young lady" was favorably +disposed toward him. She could see and +judge the feelings of the men, these many +men who ate and drank and laughed and +paid court to both the girls. Dr. Hale's +brusque coldness she accepted, as from a +higher order of being. Susie's gay coquetries +were transparent to her; but Vivian she +could not read so well.</p> + +<p>The girl's deep conscientiousness, her +courtesy and patience with all, and the gentle +way in which she evaded the attentions so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> +persistently offered, were new to Jeanne's +experience. When Morton hung about and +tried always to talk with Vivian exclusively, +she saw her listen with kind attention, but +somehow without any of that answering +gleam which made Susie's blue eyes so irresistible.</p> + +<p>"She has the lovers, but she has <i>no</i> beauty—to +compare with my young lady!" Jeanne +commented inwardly.</p> + +<p>If the sad-eyed Jeanne had been of Scotch +extraction instead of French, she might have +quoted the explanation of the homely widow +of three husbands when questioned by the +good-looking spinster, who closed her inquiry +by saying aggrievedly, "And ye'r na +sae bonny."</p> + +<p>"It's na the bonny that does it," explained +the triple widow, "It's the come hither i' the +een."</p> + +<p>Susie's eyes sparkled with the "come +hither," but those who came failed to make +any marked progress. She was somewhat +more cautious after the sudden approach +and overthrow of Mr. A. Smith; +yet more than one young gentleman boarder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +found business called him elsewhere, with +marked suddenness; his place eagerly taken +by another. The Cottonwoods had a waiting +list, now.</p> + +<p>Vivian made friends first, lovers afterward. +Then if the love proved vain, the +friendship had a way of lingering. Hers was +one of those involved and over-conscientious +characters, keenly sensitive to the thought of +duty and to others, pain. She could not +play with hearts that might be hurt in the +handling, nor could she find in herself a +quick and simple response to the appeals +made to her; there were so many things to +be considered.</p> + +<p>Morton studied her with more intensity +than he had ever before devoted to another +human being; his admiration and respect +grew with acquaintance, and all that was +best in him rose in response to her wise, +sweet womanliness. He had the background +of their childhood's common experiences and +her early sentiment—how much he did not +know, to aid him. Then there was the unknown +country of his years of changeful +travel, many tales that he could tell her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +many more which he found he could not.</p> + +<p>He pressed his advantage, cautiously, +finding the fullest response when he used the +appeal to her uplifting influence. When +they talked in the dining-room the sombre +eye at the peephole watched with growing +disapproval. The kitchen was largely left +to her and her son by her fellow workers, +on account of their nervous dislike for +Theophile, and she utilized her opportunities.</p> + +<p>Vivian had provided the boy with some big +bright picture blocks, and he spent happy +hours in matching them on the white scoured +table, while his mother sewed, and watched. +He had forgotten his burn by now, and she +sewed contentedly for there was no one talking +to her young lady but Dr. Hale, who lingered +unaccountably.</p> + +<p>To be sure, Vivian had brought him a plate +of cakes from the pantry, and he seemed to +find the little brown things efficiently seductive, +or perhaps it was Grandma who held +him, sitting bolt upright in her usual place, +at the head of one table, and asking a series +of firm but friendly questions. This she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> +found the only way of inducing Dr. Hale to +talk at all.</p> + +<p>Yes, he was going away—Yes, he would +be gone some time—A matter of weeks, perhaps—He +could not say—His boys were all +well—He did not wonder that they saw a +good deal of them—It was a good place for +them to come.</p> + +<p>"You might come oftener yourself," said +Grandma, "and play real whist with me. +These young people play <i>Bridge</i>!" She +used this word with angry scorn, as symbol +of all degeneracy; and also despised +pinochle, refusing to learn it, though any one +could induce her to play bezique. Some of +the more venturous and argumentative, +strove to persuade her that the games were +really the same.</p> + +<p>"You needn't tell me," Mrs. Pettigrew +would say, "I don't want to play any of your +foreign games."</p> + +<p>"But, Madam, bezique is not an English +word," Professor Toomey had insisted, on +one occasion; to which she had promptly responded, +"Neither is 'bouquet!'"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale shook his head with a smile. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> +had a very nice smile, even Vivian admitted +that. All the hard lines of his face curved +and melted, and the light came into those +deep-set eyes and shone warmly.</p> + +<p>"I should enjoy playing whist with you +very often, Mrs. Pettigrew; but a doctor +has no time to call his own. And a good +game of whist must not be interrupted by +telephones."</p> + +<p>"There's Miss Orella!" said Grandma, as +the front door was heard to open. "She's +getting to be quite a gadder."</p> + +<p>"It does her good, I don't doubt," the doctor +gravely remarked, rising to go. Miss +Orella met him in the hall, and bade him +good-bye with regret. "We do not see much +of you, doctor; I hope you'll be back soon."</p> + +<p>"Why it's only a little trip; you good people +act as if I were going to Alaska," he said, +"It makes me feel as if I had a family!"</p> + +<p>"Pity you haven't," remarked Grandma +with her usual definiteness. Dykeman stood +holding Miss Orella's wrap, with his dry +smile. "Good-bye, Hale," he said. "I'll +chaperon your orphan asylum for you. So +long."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come out into the dining-room," said +Miss Orella, after Dr. Hale had departed. +"I know you must be hungry," and Mr. +Dykeman did not deny it. In his quiet middle-aged +way, he enjoyed this enlarged family +circle as much as the younger fellows, and +he and Mr. Unwin seemed to vie with one +another to convince Miss Orella that life still +held charms for her. Mr. Skee also hovered +about her to a considerable extent, but most +of his devotion was bestowed upon damsels +of extreme youth.</p> + +<p>"Here's one that's hungry, anyhow," remarked +Dr. Bellair, coming out of her office +at the moment, with her usual clean and +clear-starched appearance. "I've been at it +for eighteen hours, with only bites to eat. +Yes, all over; both doing well."</p> + +<p>It was a source of deep self-congratulation +to Dr. Bellair to watch her friend grow +young again in the new atmosphere. To +Susie it appeared somewhat preposterous, +as her Aunt seems to her mind a permanently +elderly person; while to Mrs. Pettigrew +it looked only natural. "Rella's only +a young thing anyway," was her comment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> +But Jane Bellair marked and approved the +added grace of each new gown, the blossoming +of lace and ribbon, the appearance of +long-hoarded bits of family jewelry, things +held "too showy to wear" in Bainville, but +somehow quite appropriate here.</p> + +<p>Vivian and Grandma made Miss Orella sit +down at her own table head, and bustled +about in the pantry, bringing cheese and +crackers, cake and fruit; but the doctor +poked her head through the swing door and +demanded meat.</p> + +<p>"I don't want a refection, I want food," +she said, and Jeanne cheerfully brought her +a plate of cold beef. She was much attached +to Dr. Bellair, for reasons many and good.</p> + +<p>"What I like about this place," said Mrs. +Pettigrew, surveying the scene from the head +of her table, "is that there's always something +going on."</p> + +<p>"What I like about it," remarked Dr. Bellair, +between well-Fletcherized mouthfuls, +"is that people have a chance to grow and +are growing."</p> + +<p>"What I like," Mr. Dykeman looked +about him, and paused in the middle of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> +sentence, as was his wont; "is being beautifully +taken care of and made comfortable—any +man likes that."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella beamed upon him. Emboldened, +he went on: "And what I like most is +the new, delightful"—he was gazing admiringly +at her, and she looked so embarrassed +that he concluded with a wide margin of +safety—"friends I'm making."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella's rosy flush, which had risen +under his steady gaze, ebbed again to her +usual soft pink. Even her coldest critics, +in the most caustic Bainvillian circles, could +never deny that she had "a good complexion." +New England, like old England, loves +roses on the cheeks, and our dry Western +winds play havoc with them. But Miss Orella's +bloomed brighter than at home.</p> + +<p>"It is pleasant," she said softly; "all this +coming and going—and the nice people—who +stay." She looked at no one in particular, +yet Mr. Dykeman seemed pleased.</p> + +<p>"There's another coming, I guess," remarked +Grandma, as a carriage was heard +to stop outside, the gate slammed, and +trunk-burdened steps pounded heavily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +across the piazza. The bell rang sharply, +Mr. Dykeman opened the door, and the +trunk came in first—a huge one, dumped +promptly on the hall floor.</p> + +<p>Behind the trunk and the man beneath it +entered a lady; slim, elegant, graceful, in a +rich silk dust coat and soft floating veils.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Elder!" she said, coming +forward; "and Vivian! Dear Vivian! I +thought you could put me up, somewhere, +and told him to come right here. O—and +please—I haven't a bit of change left in my +purse—will you pay the man?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if it isn't Mrs. St. Cloud," said +Grandma, without any note of welcome in +her voice.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman paid the man; looked at +the trunk, and paid him some more. The +man departed swearing softly at nothing in +particular, and Mr. Dykeman departed also +to his own room.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella's hospitable soul was much +exercised. Refuse shelter to an old acquaintance, +a guest, however unexpected, she could +not; yet she had no vacant room. Vivian, +flushed and excited, moved anew by her old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +attraction, eagerly helped the visitor take +off her wraps, Mrs. Pettigrew standing the +while, with her arms folded, in the doorway +of her room, her thin lips drawn to a hard +line, as one intending to repel boarders at +any risk to life or limb. Dr. Bellair had returned +to her apartments at the first sound +of the visitor's voice.</p> + +<p>She, gracious and calm in the midst +of confusion, sat in a wreath of down-dropped +silken wrappings, and held Vivian's +hand.</p> + +<p>"You dear child!" she said, "how well you +look! What a charming place this is. The +doctors sent me West for my health; I'm on +my way to California. But when I found +the train stopped here—I didn't know that +it did till I saw the name—I had them take +my trunk right off, and here I am! It is +such a pleasure to see you all."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and disappeared +completely, closing the door behind +her.</p> + +<p>"Anything will do, Miss Elder," the visitor +went on. "I shall find a hall bedroom +palatial after a sleeping car; or a garret<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span>—anything! +It's only for a few days, you +know."</p> + +<p>Vivian was restraining herself from hospitable +offers by remembering that her room +was also Susie's, and Miss Orella well knew +that to give up hers meant sleeping on a +hard, short sofa in that all-too-public parlor. +She was hastily planning in her mind to +take Susie in with her and persuade Mrs. +Pettigrew to harbor Vivian, somewhat deterred +by memories of the old lady's expression +as she departed, when Mr. Dykeman +appeared at the door, suitcase in hand.</p> + +<p>"I promised Hale I'd keep house for those +fatherless boys, you know," he said. "In +the meantime, you're quite welcome to use +my room, Miss Elder." And he departed, +her blessing going with him.</p> + +<p>More light refreshments were now in +order. Mrs. St. Cloud protesting that she +wanted nothing, but finding much to praise +in the delicacies set before her. Several of +the other boarders drifted in, always glad of +an extra bite before going to bed. Susie and +Mr. Saunders returned from a walk, Morton +reappeared, and Jeanne, peering sharply in,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> +resentful of this new drain upon her pantry +shelves, saw a fair, sweet-faced woman, +seated at ease, eating daintily, while Miss +Elder and Vivian waited upon her, and the +men all gathered admiringly about. Jeanne +Jeaune wagged her head. "Ah, ha, Madame!" +she muttered softly, "Such as you I have +met before!" Theophile she had long since +sent to bed, remaining up herself to keep an +eye on the continued disturbance in the front +of the house. Vivian and Susie brought the +dishes out, and would have washed them or +left them till morning for the maids.</p> + +<p>"Truly, no," said Jeanne Jeaune; "go you +to your beds; I will attend to these."</p> + +<p>One by one she heard them go upstairs, +distant movement and soft dissuasion as +two gentlemen insisted on bearing Mrs. St. +Cloud's trunk into her room, receding voices +and closing doors. There was no sound in +the dining-room now, but still she waited; +the night was not yet quiet.</p> + +<p>Miss Elder and Susie, Vivian also, hovered +about, trying to make this new guest +comfortable, in spite of her graceful protests +that they must not concern themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> +in the least about her, that she wanted nothing—absolutely +nothing. At last they left +her, and still later, after some brief exchange +of surprised comment and warm appreciation +of Mr. Dykeman's thoughtfulness, the +family retired. Vivian, when her long hair +was smoothly braided for the night, felt an +imperative need for water.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want some, Susie? I'll bring +you a glass." But Susie only huddled the +bedclothes about her pretty shoulders and +said:</p> + +<p>"Don't bring me <i>anything</i>, until to-morrow +morning!"</p> + +<p>So her room-mate stole out softly in her +wrapper, remembering that a pitcher of cool +water still stood on one of the tables. The +windows to the street let in a flood of light +from a big street lamp, and she found her +way easily, but was a bit startled for a moment +to find a man still sitting there, his +head upon his arms.</p> + +<p>"Why, Morton," she said; "is that you? +What are you sitting up for? It's awfully +late. I'm just after some water." She +poured a glassful. "Don't you want some?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, thank you," he said. "Yes, I will. +Give me some, please."</p> + +<p>The girl gave him a glass, drank from her +own and set it down, turning to go, but +he reached out and caught a flowing sleeve +of her kimono.</p> + +<p>"Don't go, Vivian! Do sit down and talk +to a fellow. I've been trying to see you for +days and days."</p> + +<p>"Why, Morton Elder, how absurd! You +have certainly seen me every day, and we've +talked hours this very evening. This is no +time for conversation, surely."</p> + +<p>"The best time in the world," he assured +her. "All the other times there are people +about—dozens—hundreds—swarms! I want +to talk to just you."</p> + +<p>There were certainly no dozens or hundreds +about now, but as certainly there was +one, noting with keen and disapproving interest +this midnight tête-à-tête. It did not +last very long, and was harmless and impersonal +enough while it lasted.</p> + +<p>Vivian sat for a few moments, listening +patiently while the young man talked of his +discouragements, his hopes, his wishes to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> +succeed in life, to be worthy of her; but when +the personal note sounded, when he tried to +take her hand in the semi-darkness, then her +New England conscience sounded also, and +she rose to her feet and left him.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk about that another time," she +said. "Now do be quiet and do not wake +people up."</p> + +<p>He stole upstairs, dutifully, and she +crept softly back to her room and got into +bed, without eliciting more than a mild +grunt from sleepy Susie. Silence reigned +at last in the house. Not for long, however.</p> + +<p>At about half past twelve Dr. Bellair was +roused from a well-earned sleep by a light, +insistent tap upon her door. She listened, +believing it to be a wind-stirred twig; but +no, it was a finger tap—quiet—repeated. +She opened the door upon Jeanne in her +stocking feet.</p> + +<p>"Your pardon, Mrs. Doctor," said the +visitor, "but it is of importance. May I +speak for a little? No, I'm not ill, and we +need not a light."</p> + +<p>They sat in the clean little office, the sway<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span>ing +cottonwood boughs making a changeful +pattern on the floor.</p> + +<p>"You are a doctor, and you can make an +end to it—you must make an end to it," said +Jeanne, after a little hesitation. "This young +man—this nephew—he must not marry my +young lady."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think he wants to?" +asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>"I have seen, I have heard—I know," said +Jeanne. "You know, all can see that he +loves her. <i>He!</i> Not such as he for my +young lady."</p> + +<p>"Why do you object to him, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"He has lived the bad life," said the woman, +grimly.</p> + +<p>"Most young men are open to criticism," +said Dr. Bellair. "Have you anything +definite to tell me—anything that you could +<i>prove</i>?—if it were necessary to save her?" +She leaned forward, elbows on knees.</p> + +<p>Jeanne sat in the flickering shadows, +considering her words. "He has had the +sickness," she said at last.</p> + +<p>"Can you prove that?"</p> + +<p>"I can prove to you, a doctor, that Coralie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> +and Anastasia and Estelle—they have had it. +They are still alive; but not so beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but how can you prove it on him?"</p> + +<p>"I know he was with them. Well, it was +no secret. I myself have seen—he was there +often."</p> + +<p>"How on earth have you managed not to +be recognized?" Dr. Bellair inquired after a +few moments.</p> + +<p>Jeanne laughed bitterly. "That was eight +years ago; he was but a boy—gay and foolish, +with the others. What does a boy know?... +Also, at that time I was blonde, and—of +a difference."</p> + +<p>"I see," said the doctor, "I see! That's +pretty straight. You know personally of +that time, and you know the record of those +others. But that was a long time ago."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of him since, many times, +in such company," said Jeanne. They sat +in silence for some time. A distant church +clock struck a single deep low note. The +woman rose, stood for a hushed moment, +suddenly burst forth with hushed intensity: +"You must save her, doctor—you will! I +was young once," she went on. "I did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> +know—as she does not. I married, and—<i>that</i> +came to me! It made me a devil—for +awhile. Tell her, doctor—if you must; tell +her about my boy!"</p> + +<p>She went away, weeping silently, and Dr. +Bellair sat sternly thinking in her chair, and +fell asleep in it from utter weariness.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>A MIXTURE.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:25%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In poetry and painting and fiction we see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such praise for the Dawn of the Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We've long since been convinced that a sunrise must be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All Glorious and Golden and Gay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But we find there are mornings quite foggy and drear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the clouds in a low-hanging pall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the grey light of daylight can hardly make clear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That the sun has arisen at all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Dr. Richard Hale left his +brood of temporary orphans without +really expecting for them any +particular oversight from Andrew Dykeman; +but the two were sufficiently close +friends to well warrant the latter in moving +over to The Monastery—as Jimmie Saunders +called it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman was sufficiently popular +with the young men to be welcome, even if +he had not had a good excuse, and when +they found how super-excellent his excuse +was they wholly approved.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span></p> + +<p>To accommodate Miss Orella was something—all +the boys liked Miss Orella. They +speculated among themselves on her increasing +youth and good looks, and even exchanged +sagacious theories as to the particular +acting cause. But when they found +that Mr. Dykeman's visit was to make room +for the installation of Mrs. St. Cloud, they +were more than pleased.</p> + +<p>All the unexpressed ideals of masculine +youth seemed centered in this palely graceful +lady; the low, sweet voice, the delicate +hands, the subtle sympathy of manner, the +nameless, quiet charm of dress.</p> + +<p>Young Burns became her slave on sight, +Lawson and Peters fell on the second day; +not one held out beyond the third. Even +Susie's attractions paled, her very youth became +a disadvantage; she lacked that large +considering tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Fact is," Mr. Peters informed his friends +rather suddenly, "young women are selfish. +Naturally, of course. It takes some experience +to—well, to understand a fellow." They +all agreed with him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman, quiet and reserved as al<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span>ways, +was gravely polite to the newcomer, +and Mr. Skee revolved at a distance, making +observations. Occasionally he paid some +court to her, at which times she was cold to +him; and again he devoted himself to the +other ladies with his impressive air, as of one +bowing low and sweeping the floor with a +plumed hat.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee's Stetson had, as a matter of +fact, no sign of plumage, and his bows were +of a somewhat jerky order; but his gallantry +was sweeping and impressive, none the less. +If he remained too far away Mrs. St. Cloud +would draw him to her circle, which consisted +of all the other gentlemen.</p> + +<p>There were two exceptions. Mr. James +Saunders had reached the stage where any +woman besides Susie was but a skirted ghost, +and Morton was by this time so deeply devoted +to Vivian that he probably would not +have wavered even if left alone. He was +not wholly a free agent, however.</p> + +<p>Adela St. Cloud had reached an age when +something must be done. Her mysterious +absent husband had mysteriously and absently +died, and still she never breathed a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +word against him. But the Bible Class in +Bainville furnished no satisfactory material +for further hopes, the place of her earlier +dwelling seemed not wholly desirable now, +and the West had called her.</p> + +<p>Finding herself comfortably placed in Mr. +Dykeman's room, and judging from the +number of his shoe-trees and the quality of +his remaining toilet articles that he might be +considered "suitable," she decided to remain +in the half-way house for a season. So settled, +why, for a thousand reasons one must +keep one's hand in.</p> + +<p>There were men in plenty, from twenty +year old Archie to the uncertain decades of +Mr. Skee. Idly amusing herself, she questioned +that gentleman indirectly as to his +age, drawing from him astounding memories +of the previous century.</p> + +<p>When confronted with historic proof that +the events he described were over a hundred +years passed, he would apologize, admitting +that he had no memory for dates. She owned +one day, with gentle candor, to being thirty-three.</p> + +<p>"That must seem quite old to a man like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> +you, Mr. Skee. I feel very old sometimes!" +She lifted large eyes to him, and drew her +filmy scarf around her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Your memory must be worse than mine, +ma'am," he replied, "and work the same way. +You've sure got ten or twenty years added +on superfluous! Now me!" He shook his +head; "I don't remember when I was born +at all. And losin' my folks so young, <i>and</i> +the family Bible—I don't expect I ever +shall. But I 'low I'm all of ninety-seven."</p> + +<p>This being palpably impossible, and as the +only local incidents he could recall in his +youth were quite dateless adventures among +the Indians, she gave it up. Why Mr. Skee +should have interested her at all was difficult +to say, unless it was the appeal to his +uncertainty—he was at least a game fish, if +not edible.</p> + +<p>Of the women she met, Susie and Vivian +were far the most attractive, wherefore Mrs. +St. Cloud, with subtle sympathy and engaging +frankness, fairly cast Mr. Saunders in +Susie's arms, and vice versa, as opportunity +occurred.</p> + +<p>Morton she rather snubbed, treated him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> +as a mere boy, told tales of his childhood that +were in no way complimentary—so that he +fled from her.</p> + +<p>With Vivian she renewed her earlier influence +to a great degree.</p> + +<p>With some inquiry and more intuition she +discovered what it was that had chilled the +girl's affection for her.</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder, my dear child," she said; +"I never told you of that—I never speak of +it to anyone.... It was one of the—" +she shivered slightly—"darkest griefs of a +very dark time.... He was a beautiful +boy.... I never <i>dreamed</i>——"</p> + +<p>The slow tears rose in her beautiful eyes +till they shone like shimmering stars.</p> + +<p>"Heaven send no such tragedy may ever +come into your life, dear!"</p> + +<p>She reached a tender hand to clasp the +girl's. "I am so glad of your happiness!"</p> + +<p>Vivian was silent. As a matter of fact, +she was not happy enough to honestly accept +sympathy. Mrs. St. Cloud mistook +her attitude, or seemed to.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you still blame me. Many +people did. I often blame myself. One can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span>not +be <i>too</i> careful. It's a terrible responsibility, +Vivian—to have a man love you."</p> + +<p>The girl's face grew even more somber. +That was one thing which was troubling her.</p> + +<p>"But your life is all before you," pursued +the older woman. "Your dream has come +true! How happy—how wonderfully happy +you must be!"</p> + +<p>"I am not, not <i>really</i>," said the girl. "At +least——"</p> + +<p>"I know—I know; I understand," Mrs. +St. Cloud nodded with tender wisdom. "You +are not sure. Is not that it?"</p> + +<p>That was distinctly "it," and Vivian so +agreed.</p> + +<p>"There is no other man?"</p> + +<p>"Not the shadow of one!" said the girl +firmly. And as her questioner had studied +the field and made up her mind to the same +end, she believed her.</p> + +<p>"Then you must not mind this sense of +uncertainty. It always happens. It is part +of the morning clouds of maidenhood, my +dear—it vanishes with the sunrise!" And +she smiled beatifically.</p> + +<p>Then the girl unburdened herself of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> +perplexities. She could always express herself +so easily to this sympathetic friend.</p> + +<p>"There are so many things that I—dislike—about +him," she said. "Habits of speech—of +manners. He is not—not what I——"</p> + +<p>She paused.</p> + +<p>"Not all the Dream! Ah! My dear child, +they never are! We are given these beautiful +ideals to guard and guide us; but the real +is never quite the same. But when a man's +soul opens to you—when he loves—these +small things vanish. They can be changed—you +will change them."</p> + +<p>"Yes—he says so," Vivian admitted. "He +says that he knows that he is—unworthy—and +has done wrong things. But so have I, +for that matter."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud agreed with her. "I am +glad you feel that, my dear. Men have their +temptations—their vices—and we good women +are apt to be hard on them. But have +we no faults? Ah, my dear, I have seen +good women—young girls, like yourself—ruin +a man's whole life by—well, by heartlessness; +by lack of understanding. Most +young men do things they become ashamed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> +of when they really love. And in the case +of a motherless boy like this—lonely, away +from his home, no good woman's influence +about—what else could we expect? But you +can make a new man of him. A glorious +work!"</p> + +<p>"That's what he says. I'm not so sure—" +The girl hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Not sure you can? Oh, my child, it is +the most beautiful work on earth! To see +from year to year a strong, noble character +grow under your helping hand! To be the +guiding star, the inspiration of a man's life. +To live to hear him say:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Ah, who am I that God should bow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From heaven to choose a wife for me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What have I done He should endow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My home with thee?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There was a silence.</p> + +<p>Vivian's dark eyes shone with appreciation +for the tender beauty of the lines, the +lovely thought. Then she arose and walked +nervously across the floor, returning presently.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. St. Cloud——"</p> + +<p>"Call me Adela, my dear."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span></p> + +<p>"Adela—dear Adela—you—you have +been married. I have no mother. Tell me, +ought not there to be more—more love? I'm +fond of Morton, of course, and I do want to +help him—but surely, if I loved him—I +should feel happier—more sure!"</p> + +<p>"The first part of love is often very confusing, +my dear. I'll tell you how it is: just +because you are a woman grown and feel +your responsibilities, especially here, where +you have so many men friends, you keep +Morton at a distance. Then the external +sort of cousinly affection you have for him +rather blinds you to other feelings. But I +have not forgotten—and I'm sure you have +not—the memory of that hot, sweet night +so long ago; the world swimming in summer +moonlight and syringa sweetness; the stillness +everywhere—and your first kiss!"</p> + +<p>Vivian started to her feet. She moved to +the window and stood awhile; came back and +kissed her friend warmly, and went away +without another word.</p> + +<p>The lady betook herself to her toilet, and +spent some time on it, for there was one of +Miss Peeder's classes that night.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud danced with many, but +most with Mr. Dykeman; no woman in the +room had her swimming grace of motion, +and yet, with all the throng of partners about +her she had time to see Susie's bright head +bobbing about beneath Mr. Saunders down-bent, +happy face, and Vivian, with her eyes +cast down, dancing with Morton, whose gaze +never left her. He was attention itself, he +brought her precisely the supper she liked, +found her favorite corner to rest in, took her +to sit on the broad piazza between dances, +remained close to her, still talking earnestly, +when all the outsiders had gone.</p> + +<p>Vivian found it hard to sleep that night. +All that he had said of his new hope, new +power, new courage, bore out Mrs. St. +Cloud's bright promise of a new-built life. +And some way, as she had listened and did +not forbid, the touch of his hand, the pressure +of his arm, grew warmer and brought +back the memories of that summer night so +long ago.</p> + +<p>He had begged hard for a kiss before he +left her, and she quite had to tear herself +away, as Susie drifted in, also late; and Aunt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> +Orella said they must all go to bed right +away—she was tired if they were not.</p> + +<p>She did look tired. This dance seemed +somehow less agreeable to her than had +others. She took off her new prettinesses +and packed them away in a box in the lower +drawer.</p> + +<p>"I'm an old fool!" she said. "Trying to +dress up like a girl. I'm ashamed of myself!" +Quite possibly she did not sleep well +either, yet she had no room-mate to keep her +awake by babbling on, as Susie did to Vivian.</p> + +<p>Her discourse was first, last and always +about Jimmie Saunders. He had said this, +he had looked that, he had done so; and what +did Vivian think he meant? And wasn't he +handsome—and <i>so</i> clever!</p> + +<p>Little Susie cuddled close and finally +dropped off asleep, her arms around Vivian. +But the older girl counted the hours; her +head, or her heart, in a whirl.</p> + +<p>Morton Elder was wakeful, too. So much +so that he arose with a whispered expletive, +took his shoes in his hand, and let himself +softly out for a tramp in the open.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span></p> + +<p>This was not the first of his love affairs, +but with all his hot young heart he wished it +was. He stood still, alone on the high +stretches of moonlit mesa and looked up at +the measureless, brilliant spaces above him.</p> + +<p>"I'll keep straight—if I can have her!" he +repeated under his breath. "I will! I will!"</p> + +<p>It had never occurred to him before to be +ashamed of the various escapades of his +youth. He had done no more than others, +many others. None of "the boys" he associated +with intended to do what was wrong; +they were quite harsh in judgment of those +who did, according to their standards. None +of them had been made acquainted with the +social or pathological results of their amusements, +and the mere "Zutritt ist Verboten" +had never impressed them at all.</p> + +<p>But now the gentler influences of his childhood, +even the narrow morality of Bainville, +rose in pleasant colors in his mind. He +wished he had saved his money, instead of +spending it faster than it came in. He +wished he had kept out of poker and solo and +barrooms generally. He wished, in a dumb, +shamed way, that he could come to her as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> +clean as she was. But he threw his shoulders +back and lifted his head determinedly.</p> + +<p>"I'll be good to her," he determined; "I'll +make her a good husband."</p> + +<p>In the days that followed his devotion was +as constant as before, but more intelligent. +His whole manner changed and softened. +He began to read the books she liked, and +to talk about them. He was gentler to +everyone, more polite, even to the waitresses, +tender and thoughtful of his aunt and sister. +Vivian began to feel a pride in him, and in +her influence, deepening as time passed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew, visiting the library on one +of her frequent errands, was encountered +there and devotedly escorted home by Mr. +Skee.</p> + +<p>"That is a most fascinating young lady +who has Mr. Dykeman's room; don't you +think so, ma'am?" quoth he.</p> + +<p>"I do not," said Mrs. Pettigrew. "Young! +She's not so young as you are—nothing like—never +was!"</p> + +<p>He threw back his head and laughed his +queer laugh, which looked so uproarious and +made so little noise.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></p> + +<p>"She certainly is a charmer, whatever her +age may be," he continued.</p> + +<p>"Glad you think so, Mr. Skee. It may be +time you lost a fourth!"</p> + +<p>"Lost a fourth? What in the—Hesperides!"</p> + +<p>"If you can't guess what, you needn't ask +me!" said the lady, with some tartness. "But +for my own part I prefer the Apaches. Good +afternoon, Mr. Skee."</p> + +<p>She betook herself to her room with unusual +promptness, and refused to be baited +forth by any kind of offered amusement.</p> + +<p>"It's right thoughtful of Andy Dykeman, +gettin' up this entertainment for Mrs. St. +Cloud, isn't it, Mrs. Elder?" Thus Mr. +Skee to Miss Orella a little later.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it is Mr. Dykeman's idea +at all," she told him. "It's those boys over +there. They are all wild about her, quite +naturally." She gave a little short sigh. "If +Dr. Hale were at home I doubt if he would +encourage it."</p> + +<p>"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't, Ma'am. +He's certainly down on the fair sex, even +such a peacherino as this one. But with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> +Andy, now, it's different. He is a man of +excellent judgment."</p> + +<p>"I guess all men's judgment is pretty +much alike in some ways," said Miss Orella, +oracularly. She seemed busy and constrained, +and Mr. Skee drifted off and paid +court as best he might to Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"Charmed to find you at home, Ma'am," +he said; "or shall I say at office?"</p> + +<p>"Call it what you like, Mr. Skee; it's been +my home for a good many years now."</p> + +<p>"It's a mighty fine thing for a woman, +livin' alone, to have a business, seems to me," +remarked the visitor.</p> + +<p>"It's a fine thing for any woman, married +or single, to my mind," she answered. "I +wish I could get Vivian Lane started in that +kindergarten she talks about."</p> + +<p>"There's kids enough, and goodness +knows they need a gardener! What's +lackin'? House room?"</p> + +<p>"She thinks she's not really competent. +She has no regular certificate, you see. Her +parents would never let go of her long +enough," the doctor explained.</p> + +<p>"Some parents <i>are</i> pretty graspin', ain't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> +they? To my mind, Miss Vivian would be a +better teacher than lots of the ticketed ones. +She's got the natural love of children."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she has studied a great deal. +She just needs an impetus."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps if she thought there was 'a call' +she might be willing. I doubt if the families +here realize what they're missin'. Aint there +some among your patients who could be +stirred up a little?"</p> + +<p>The doctor thought there were, and he +suggested several names from his apparently +unlimited acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"I believe in occupation for the young. It +takes up their minds," said Mr. Skee, and +departed with serenity. He strolled over to +Dr. Hale's fence and leaned upon it, watching +the preparations. Mr. Dykeman, in his +shirt-sleeves, stood about offering suggestions, +while the young men swarmed here and +there with poles and stepladders, hanging +Chinese lanterns.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Elmer; come in and make yourself +useful," called Mr. Dykeman.</p> + +<p>"I'll come in, but I'll be switched if I'll be +useful," he replied, laying a large hand on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> +the fence and vaulting his long legs over it +with an agility amazing in one of his alleged +years. "You all are sure putting yourself +out for this occasion. Is it somebody's birthday?"</p> + +<p>"No; it's a get-up of these youngsters. +They began by wanting Mrs. St. Cloud to +come over to tea—afternoon tea—and now +look at this!"</p> + +<p>"Did she misunderstand the invitation as +bad as that?"</p> + +<p>"O, no; just a gradual change of plan. +One thing leads to another, you know. Here, +Archie! That bush won't hold the line. Put +it on the willow."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mr. Skee; "and, as we're +quotin' proverbs, I might remark that 'While +the cat's away the mice will play.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman smiled. "It's rather a good +joke on Hale, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Would be if he should happen to come +home—and find this hen-party on." They +both chuckled.</p> + +<p>"I guess he's good for a week yet," said +Mr. Dykeman. "Those medical associations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> +do a lot of talking. Higher up there, George—a +good deal higher."</p> + +<p>He ran over to direct the boys, and Mr. +Skee, hands behind him, strolled up and +down the garden, wearing a meditative smile. +He and Andrew Dykeman had been friends +for many long years.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair used her telephone freely after +Mr. Skee's departure, making notes and lists +of names. Late in the afternoon she found +Vivian in the hall.</p> + +<p>"I don't see much of you these days, Miss +Lane," she said.</p> + +<p>The girl flushed. Since Mrs. St. Cloud's +coming and their renewed intimacy she had +rather avoided the doctor, and that lady had +kept herself conspicuously out of the way.</p> + +<p>"Don't call me Miss Lane; I'm Vivian—to +my friends."</p> + +<p>"I hope you count me a friend?" said Dr. +Bellair, gravely.</p> + +<p>"I do, Doctor, and I'm proud to. But so +many things have been happening lately," +she laughed, a little nervously. "The truth +is, I'm really ashamed to talk to you; I'm +so lazy."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's exactly what I wanted to speak +about. Aren't you ready to begin that little +school of yours?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to—I should, really," said the +girl. "But, somehow, I don't know how to +set about it."</p> + +<p>"I've been making some inquiries," said +the doctor. "There are six or eight among +my patients that you could count on—about +a dozen young ones. How many could you +handle?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I oughtn't to have more than twenty +in any case. A dozen would be plenty to begin +with. Do you think I <i>could</i> count on +them—really?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I'll do," her friend offered; +"I'll take you around and introduce +you to any of them you don't know. Most +of 'em come here to the dances. There's +Mrs. Horsford and Mrs. Blake, and that little +Mary Jackson with the twins. You'll +find they are mostly friends."</p> + +<p>"You are awfully kind," said the girl. "I +wish"—her voice took on a sudden note of +intensity—"I do wish I were strong, like +you, Dr. Bellair."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wasn't very strong—at your age—my +child. I did the weakest of weak things—"</p> + +<p>Vivian was eager to ask her what it was, +but a door opened down one side passage +and the doctor quietly disappeared down the +other, as Mrs. St. Cloud came out.</p> + +<p>"I thought I heard your voice," she said. +"And Miss Elder's, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"No; it was Dr. Bellair."</p> + +<p>"A strong character, and a fine physician, +I understand. I'm sorry she does not like +me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud's smile made it seem impossible +that anyone should dislike her.</p> + +<p>Vivian could not, however, deny the fact, +and was not diplomatic enough to smooth it +over, which her more experienced friend proceeded +to do.</p> + +<p>"It is temperamental," she said gently. +"If we had gone to school together we would +not have been friends. She is strong, downright, +progressive; I am weaker, more sensitive, +better able to bear than to do. You +must find her so stimulating."</p> + +<p>"Yes," the girl said. "She was talking to +me about my school."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your school?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know I meant to have a sort +of kindergarten? We planned it even before +starting; but Miss Elder seemed to need +me at first, and since then—things—have +happened——"</p> + +<p>"And other things will happen, dear child! +Quite other and different things."</p> + +<p>The lady's smile was bewitching. Vivian +flushed slowly under her gaze.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, I watched you dancing together! +You don't mind my noticing, do +you?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was suddenly tender and respectful. +"I do not wish to intrude, but you +are very dear to me. Come into my room—do—and +tell me what to wear to-night."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud's clothes had always been +a delight to Vivian. They were what she +would have liked to wear—and never quite +have dared, under the New England fear of +being "too dressy." Her own beauty was +kept trimly neat, like a closed gentian.</p> + +<p>Her friend was in the gayest mood. She +showed her a trunkful of delicate garments +and gave her a glittering embroidered scarf,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span> +which the girl rapturously admired, but declared +she would never have the courage to +wear.</p> + +<p>"You shall wear it this very night," declared +the lady. "Here—show me what +you've got. You shall be as lovely as you +<i>are</i>, for once!"</p> + +<p>So Vivian brought out her modest wardrobe, +and the older woman chose a gown of +white, insisted on shortening the sleeves to +fairy wings of lace, draped the scarf about +her white neck, raised the soft, close-bound +hair to a regal crown, and put a shining star +in it, and added a string of pearls on the +white throat.</p> + +<p>"Look at yourself now, child!" she said.</p> + +<p>Vivian looked, in the long depths of Mr. +Dykeman's mirror. She knew that she had +beauty, but had never seen herself so brilliantly +attired. Erect, slender, graceful, the +long lines of her young body draped in soft +white, and her dark head, crowned and shining, +poised on its white column, rising from +the shimmering lace. Her color deepened as +she looked, and added to the picture.</p> + +<p>"You shall wear it to-night! You shall!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> +cried her admiring friend. "To please me—if +no one else!"</p> + +<p>Whether to please her or someone else, +Vivian consented, the two arriving rather +late at the garden party across the way.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman, looking very tall and fine +in his evening clothes, was a cordial host, +ably seconded by the eager boys about him.</p> + +<p>The place was certainly a credit to their +efforts, the bare rooms being turned to bowers +by vines and branches brought from the +mountains, and made fragrant by piled +flowers. Lights glimmered through colored +shades among the leaves, and on the dining +table young Peters, who came from Connecticut, +had rigged a fountain by means of +some rubber tubing and an auger hole in the +floor. This he had made before Mr. Dykeman +caught him, and vowed Dr. Hale would +not mind. Mr. Peters' enjoyment of the +evening, however, was a little dampened by +his knowledge of the precarious nature of +this arrangement. He danced attendance +on Mrs. St. Cloud, with the others, but wore +a preoccupied expression, and stole in once +or twice from the lit paths outside to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> +sure that all was running well. It was well +to and during supper time, and the young +man was complimented on his ingenuity.</p> + +<p>"Reminds me of the Hanging Gardens of +Babylon," said Mr. Skee, sentimentally.</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>why</i>, Ma'am? How can a fellow +say why?" he protested. "Because it is so—so +efflorescent, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Reminds me of a loose faucet," said she, +<i>sotto voce</i>, to Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters beamed triumphantly, but in +the very hour of his glory young Burns, +hastening to get a cup of coffee for his fair +one, tripped over the concealed pipe, and the +fountain poured forth its contributions +among the feet of the guests.</p> + +<p>This was a minor misadventure, however, +hurting no one's feeling but Mr. Peters', and +Mrs. St. Cloud was so kind to him in consequence +that he was envied by all the others.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman was attentive to his guests, +old and young, but Mrs. Pettigrew had not +her usual smile for him; Miss Orella declined +to dance, alleging that she was too tired, and +Dr. Bellair somewhat dryly told him that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> +need not bother with her. He was hardly to +be blamed if he turned repeatedly to Mrs. +St. Cloud, whose tactful sweetness was always +ready. She had her swarm of young +admirers about her, yet never failed to find +a place for her host, a smile and a word of +understanding.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were everywhere. She watched +Mr. Skee waltzing with the youngest, providing +well-chosen refreshments for Miss +Orella, gallantly escorting Grandma to see +the "Lovers' Lane" they had made at the +end of the garden. Its twin lines of lights +were all outside; within was grateful shadow.</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud paced through this fragrant +arbor with each and every one of the +receiving party, uttering ever-fresh expressions +of admiration and gratitude for their +kind thoughtfulness, especially to Mr. Dykeman.</p> + +<p>When she saw Susie and Mr. Saunders +go in at the farther end, she constituted herself +a sort of protective agency to keep every +one else out, holding them in play with various +pleasant arts.</p> + +<p>And Vivian? When she arrived there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> +a little gasp from Morton, who was waiting +for her near the door. She was indeed a +sight to make a lover's heart leap. He had +then, as it were, surrounded her. Vainly did +the others ask for dances. Morton had unblushingly +filled out a card with his own +name and substituted it for the one she +handed him. She protested, but the music +sounded and he whirled her away before she +could expostulate to any avail.</p> + +<p>His eyes spoke his admiration, and for +once his tongue did not spoil the impression.</p> + +<p>Half laughing and half serious, she let +him monopolize her, but quite drove him +away when Mr. Dykeman claimed his dance.</p> + +<p>"All filled up!" said Morton for her, showing +his card.</p> + +<p>"Mine was promised yesterday, was it not, +Miss Lane?" said the big man, smiling. And +she went with him. He took her about the +garden later, gravely admiring and attentive, +and when Susie fairly rushed into her +arms, begging her to come and talk with her, +he left them both in a small rose-crowned +summer-house and went back to Mrs. St. +Cloud.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Vivian, Vivian! What do you +think!" Susie's face was buried on Vivian's +shoulder. "I'm engaged!"</p> + +<p>Vivian held her close and kissed her soft +hair. Her joyous excitement was contagious.</p> + +<p>"He's the nicest man in the world!" +breathed Susie, "and he loves me!"</p> + +<p>"We all supposed he did. Didn't you +know it before?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, in a way; but, Vivian—he kissed +me!"</p> + +<p>"Well, child, have you never in all your +little life been kissed before?"</p> + +<p>Susie lifted a rosy, tearful face for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Never, never, never!" she said. "I +thought I had, but I haven't! Oh, I am so +happy!"</p> + +<p>"What's up?" inquired Morton, appearing +with a pink lantern in his hand, in impatient +search for his adored one. "Susie—crying?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm <i>not</i>," she said, and ran forthwith +back to the house, whence Jimmy was +bringing her ice cream.</p> + +<p>Vivian started to follow her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Vivian; don't go. Wait." He +dropped the lantern and took her hands. The +paper cover flared up, showing her flushed +cheeks and starry eyes. He stamped out +the flame, and in the sudden darkness caught +her in his arms.</p> + +<p>For a moment she allowed him, turning +her head away. He kissed her white shoulder.</p> + +<p>"No! No, Morton—don't! You mustn't!"</p> + +<p>She tried to withdraw herself, but he held +her fast. She could feel the pounding of +his heart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Vivian, don't say no! You will marry +me, won't you? Some day, when I'm +more worth while. Say you will! Some +day—if not now. I love you so; I need you +so! Say yes, Vivian."</p> + +<p>He was breathing heavily. His arms held +her motionless. She still kept her face +turned from him.</p> + +<p>"Let me go, Morton; let me go! You +hurt me!"</p> + +<p>"Say yes, dear, and I'll let you go—for +a little while."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vivian.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span></p> + +<p>The ground jarred beside them, as a tall +man jumped the hedge boundary. He stood +a moment, staring.</p> + +<p>"Well, is this my house, or Coney Island?" +they heard him say. And then Morton +swore softly to himself as Vivian left +him and came out.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Dr. Hale," she said, a +little breathlessly. "We weren't expecting +you so soon."</p> + +<p>"I should judge not," he answered. +"What's up, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"The boys—and Mr. Dykeman—are giving +a garden party for Mrs. St. Cloud."</p> + +<p>"For whom?"</p> + +<p>"For Adela St. Cloud. She is visiting us. +Aren't you coming in?"</p> + +<p>"Not now," he said, and was gone without +another word.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>CONSEQUENCES.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:25%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">You may have a fondness for grapes that are green,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the sourness that greenness beneath;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You may have a right<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To a colic at night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But consider your children's teeth!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Dr. Hale retired from his gaily +illuminated grounds in too much +displeasure to consider the question +of dignity. One suddenly acting +cause was the news given him by Vivian. +The other was the sight of Morton Elder's +face as he struck a match to light his +cigarette.</p> + +<p>Thus moved, and having entered and left +his own grounds like a thief in the night, he +proceeded to tramp in the high-lying outskirts +of the town until every light in his +house had gone out. Then he returned, let +himself into his office, and lay there on a +lounge until morning.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span></p> + +<p>Vivian had come out so quickly to greet +the doctor from obscure motives. She felt +a sudden deep objection to being found +there with Morton, a wish to appear as one +walking about unconcernedly, and when +that match glow made Morton's face shine +out prominently in the dark shelter, she, too, +felt a sudden displeasure.</p> + +<p>Without a word she went swiftly to the +house, excused herself to her Grandmother, +who nodded understandingly, and returned +to The Cottonwoods, to her room. She felt +that she must be alone and think; think of +that irrevocable word she had uttered, and +its consequences.</p> + +<p>She sat at her window, rather breathless, +watching the rows of pink lanterns swaying +softly on the other side of the street; hearing +the lively music, seeing young couples +leave the gate and stroll off homeward.</p> + +<p>Susie's happiness came more vividly to +mind than her own. It was so freshly joyous, +so pure, so perfectly at rest. She could +not feel that way, could not tell with decision +exactly how she did feel. But if this +was happiness, it was not as she had imag<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span>ined +it. She thought of that moonlit summer +night so long ago, and the memory of +its warm wonder seemed sweeter than the +hasty tumult and compulsion of to-night.</p> + +<p>She was stirred through and through by +Morton's intense emotion, but with a sort of +reaction, a wish to escape. He had been so +madly anxious, he had held her so close; +there seemed no other way but to yield to +him—in order to get away.</p> + +<p>And then Dr. Hale had jarred the whole +situation. She had to be polite to him, in +his own grounds. If only Morton had kept +still—that grating match—his face, bent and +puffing, Dr. Hale must have seen him. And +again she thought of little Susie with almost +envy. Even after that young lady had +come in, bubbled over with confidences and +raptures, and finally dropped to sleep without +Vivian's having been able to bring herself +to return the confidences, she stole back +to her window again to breathe.</p> + +<p>Why had Dr. Hale started so at the name +of Mrs. St. Cloud? That was puzzling her +more than she cared to admit. By and by +she saw his well-known figure, tall and erect,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> +march by on the other side and go into the +office.</p> + +<p>"O, well," she sighed at last, "I'm not +young, like Susie. Perhaps it <i>is</i> like this—"</p> + +<p>Now Morton had been in no special need +of that cigarette at that special moment, but +he did not wish to seem to hide in the dusky +arbor, nor to emerge lamely as if he had +hidden. So he lit the match, more from +habit than anything else. When it was out, +and the cigarette well lighted, he heard the +doctor's sudden thump on the other side of +the fence and came out to rejoin Vivian. +She was not there.</p> + +<p>He did not see her again that night, and +his meditations were such that next day +found him, as a lover, far more agreeable to +Vivian than the night before. He showed +real understanding, no triumph, no airs of +possession; took no liberties, only said: +"When I am good enough I shall claim you—my +darling!" and looked at her with such +restrained longing that she quite warmed +to him again.</p> + +<p>He held to this attitude, devoted, +quietly affectionate; till her sense of rebel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span>lion +passed away and her real pleasure in +his improvement reasserted itself. As they +read together, if now and then his arm stole +around her waist, he always withdrew it when +so commanded. Still, one cannot put the +same severity into a prohibition too often repeated. +The constant, thoughtful attention +of a man experienced in the art of pleasing +women, the new and frankly inexperienced +efforts he made to meet her highest thoughts, +to learn and share her preferences, both +pleased her.</p> + +<p>He was certainly good looking, certainly +amusing, certainly had become a better man +from her companionship. She grew to feel +a sort of ownership in this newly arisen character; +a sort of pride in it. Then, she had +always been fond of Morton, since the time +when he was only "Susie's big brother." +That counted.</p> + +<p>Another thing counted, too, counted heavily, +though Vivian never dreamed of it and +would have hotly repudiated the charge. She +was a woman of full marriageable age, with +all the unused powers of her woman's nature +calling for expression, quite unrecognized.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span></p> + +<p>He was a man who loved her, loved her +more deeply than he had ever loved before, +than he had even known he could love; who +quite recognized what called within him and +meant to meet the call. And he was near +her every day.</p> + +<p>After that one fierce outbreak he held +himself well in check. He knew he had +startled her then, almost lost her. And with +every hour of their companionship he felt +more and more how much she was to him. +Other women he had pursued, overtaken, +left behind. He felt that there was something +in Vivian which was beyond him, giving +a stir and lift of aspiration which he +genuinely enjoyed.</p> + +<p>Day by day he strove to win her full approval, +and day by day he did not neglect +the tiny, slow-lapping waves of little tendernesses, +small affectionate liberties at well-chosen +moments, always promptly withdrawing +when forbidden, but always beginning +again a little further on.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair went to Dr. Hale's office and +sat herself down solidly in the patient's +chair.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dick," she said, "are you going to stand +for this?"</p> + +<p>"Stand for what, my esteemed but cryptic +fellow-practitioner?"</p> + +<p>She eyed his calm, reserved countenance +with friendly admiration. "You are an +awfully good fellow, Dick, but dull. At the +same time dull and transparent. Are you +going to sit still and let that dangerous patient +of yours marry the finest girl in town?"</p> + +<p>"Your admiration for girls is always +stronger than mine, Jane; and I have, if you +will pardon the boast, more than one patient."</p> + +<p>"All right, Dick—if you want it made +perfectly clear to your understanding. Do +you mean to let Morton Elder marry Vivian +Lane?"</p> + +<p>"What business is it of mine?" he demanded, +more than brusquely—savagely.</p> + +<p>"You know what he's got."</p> + +<p>"I am a physician, not a detective. And I +am not Miss Lane's father, brother, uncle +or guardian."</p> + +<p>"Or lover," added Dr. Bellair, eyeing him +quietly. She thought she saw a second's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span> +flicker of light in the deep gray eyes, a possible +tightening of set lips. "Suppose you +are not," she said; "nor even a humanitarian. +You <i>are</i> a member of society. Do you +mean to let a man whom you know has no +right to marry, poison the life of that splendid +girl?"</p> + +<p>He was quite silent for a moment, but she +could see the hand on the farther arm of his +chair grip it till the nails were white.</p> + +<p>"How do you know he—wishes to marry +her?"</p> + +<p>"If you were about like other people, you +old hermit, you'd know it as well as anybody. +I think they are on the verge of an +engagement, if they aren't over it already. +Once more, Dick, shall you do anything?"</p> + +<p>"No," said he. Then, as she did not add +a word, he rose and walked up and down +the office in big strides, turning upon her +at last.</p> + +<p>"You know how I feel about this. It is a +matter of honor—professional honor. You +women don't seem to know what the word +means. I've told that good-for-nothing +young wreck that he has no right to marry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> +for years yet, if ever. That is all I can do. +I will not betray the confidence of a patient."</p> + +<p>"Not if he had smallpox, or scarlet fever, +or the bubonic plague? Suppose a patient +of yours had the leprosy, and wanted to +marry your sister, would you betray his confidence?"</p> + +<p>"I might kill my sister," he said, glaring +at her. "I refuse to argue with you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think you'd better refuse," she +said, rising. "And you don't have to kill +Vivian Lane, either. A man's honor always +seems to want to kill a woman to satisfy it. +I'm glad I haven't got the feeling. Well, +Dick, I thought I'd give you a chance to +come to your senses, a real good chance. +But I won't leave you to the pangs of unavailing +remorse, you poor old goose. That +young syphilitic is no patient of mine." And +she marched off to perform a difficult duty.</p> + +<p>She was very fond of Vivian. The girl's +unselfish sweetness of character and the +depth of courage and power she perceived +behind the sensitive, almost timid exterior, +appealed to her. If she had had a daughter, +perhaps she would have been like that. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> +she had had a daughter would she not have +thanked anyone who would try to save her +from such a danger? From that worse than +deadly peril, because of which she had no +daughter.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair was not the only one who +watched Morton's growing devotion with +keen interest. To his aunt it was a constant +joy. From the time her boisterous little +nephew had come to rejoice her heart and +upset her immaculate household arrangements, +and had played, pleasantly though +tyrannically, with the little girl next door, +Miss Orella had dreamed this romance for +him. To have it fail was part of her grief +when he left her, to have it now so visibly +coming to completion was a deep delight.</p> + +<p>If she had been blind to his faults, she was +at least vividly conscious of the present sudden +growth of virtues. She beamed at him +with affectionate pride, and her manner to +Mrs. Pettigrew was one of barely subdued +"I told you so." Indeed, she could not restrain +herself altogether, but spoke to that +lady with tender triumph of how lovely it +was to have Morton so gentle and nice.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span></p> + +<p>"You never did like the boy, I know, but +you must admit that he is behaving beautifully +now."</p> + +<p>"I will," said the old lady; "I'll admit it +without reservation. He's behaving beautifully—now. +But I'm not going to talk +about him—to you, Orella." So she rolled +up her knitting work and marched off.</p> + +<p>"Too bad she's so prejudiced and opinionated," +said Miss Elder to Susie, rather +warmly. "I'm real fond of Mrs. Pettigrew, +but when she takes a dislike——"</p> + +<p>Susie was so happy herself that she seemed +to walk in an aura of rosy light. Her Jimmie +was so evidently the incarnation of +every masculine virtue and charm that he +lent a reflected lustre to other men, even to +her brother. Because of her love for Jimmie, +she loved Morton better—loved everybody +better. To have her only brother +marry her dearest friend was wholly pleasant +to Susie.</p> + +<p>It was not difficult to wring from Vivian +a fair knowledge of how things stood, for, +though reserved by nature, she was utterly +unused to concealing anything, and could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> +not tell an efficient lie if she wanted to.</p> + +<p>"Are you engaged or are you not, you +dear old thing?" demanded Susie.</p> + +<p>And Vivian admitted that there was "an +understanding." But Susie absolutely must +not speak of it.</p> + +<p>For a wonder she did not, except to Jimmie. +But people seemed to make up their +minds on the subject with miraculous agreement. +The general interest in the manifold +successes of Mrs. St. Cloud gave way to this +vivid personal interest, and it was discussed +from two sides among their whole circle of +acquaintance.</p> + +<p>One side thought that a splendid girl was +being wasted, sacrificed, thrown away, on a +disagreeable, good-for-nothing fellow. The +other side thought the "interesting" Mr. Elder +might have done better; they did not +know what he could see in her.</p> + +<p>They, that vaguely important They, before +whom we so deeply bow, were also +much occupied in their mind by speculations +concerning Mr. Dykeman and two Possibilities. +One quite patently possible, even +probable, giving rise to the complacent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> +"Why, anybody could see that!" and the +other a fascinatingly impossible Possibility +of a sort which allows the even more complacent +"Didn't you? Why, I could see it +from the first."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman had been a leading citizen +in that new-built town for some ten years, +which constituted him almost the Oldest Inhabitant. +He was reputed to be extremely +wealthy, though he never said anything +about it, and neither his clothing nor his +cigars reeked of affluence. Perhaps nomadic +chambermaids had spread knowledge of +those silver-backed appurtenances, and the +long mirror. Or perhaps it was not woman's +gossip at all, but men's gossip, +which has wider base, and wider circulation, +too.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman had certainly "paid attentions" +to Miss Elder. Miss Elder had undeniably +brightened and blossomed most becomingly +under these attentions. He had +danced with her, he had driven with her, he +had played piquet with her when he might +have played whist. To be sure, he did these +things with other ladies, and had done them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> +for years past, but this really looked as if +there might be something in it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee, as Mr. Dykeman's oldest +friend, was even questioned a little; but it +was not very much use to question Mr. Skee. +His manner was not repellant, and not in the +least reserved. He poured forth floods of +information so voluminous and so varied +that the recipient was rather drowned than +fed. So opinions wavered as to Mr. Dykeman's +intentions.</p> + +<p>Then came this lady of irresistible charm, +and the unmarried citizens of the place fell +at her feet as one man. Even the married +ones slanted over a little.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman danced with her, more than +he had with Miss Elder. Mr. Dykeman +drove with her, more than he had with Miss +Elder. Mr. Dykeman played piquet with +her, and chess, which Miss Elder could not +play. And Miss Elder's little opening petals +of ribbon and lace curled up and withered +away; while Mrs. St. Cloud's silken efflorescence, +softly waving and jewel-starred, +flourished apace.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair had asked Vivian to take a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> +walk with her; and they sat together, resting, +on a high lonely hill, a few miles out of +town.</p> + +<p>"It's a great pleasure to see this much of +you, Dr. Bellair," said the girl, feeling really +complimented.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you won't think so, my dear, +when you hear what I have to say: what I +<i>have</i> to say."</p> + +<p>The girl flushed a little. "Are you going +to scold me about something? Have I done +anything wrong?" Her eyes smiled bravely. +"Go on, Doctor. I know it will be for my +best good."</p> + +<p>"It will indeed, dear child," said the doctor, +so earnestly that Vivian felt a chill of +apprehension.</p> + +<p>"I am going to talk to you 'as man to +man' as the story books say; as woman to +woman. When I was your age I had been +married three years."</p> + +<p>Vivian was silent, but stole out a soft sympathetic +hand and slipped it into the older +woman's. She had heard of this early-made +marriage, also early broken; with various<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> +dark comments to which she had paid no attention.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair was Dr. Bellair, and she had +a reverential affection for her.</p> + +<p>There was a little silence. The Doctor +evidently found it hard to begin. "You love +children, don't you, Vivian?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes kindled, and a heavenly +smile broke over her face. "Better than +anything in the world," she said.</p> + +<p>"Ever think about them?" asked her +friend, her own face whitening as she spoke. +"Think about their lovely little soft helplessness—when +you hold them in your arms +and have to do <i>everything</i> for them. Have +to go and turn them over—see that the little +ear isn't crumpled—that the covers are all +right. Can't you see 'em, upside down on +the bath apron, grabbing at things, perfectly +happy, but prepared to howl when it comes +to dressing? And when they are big enough +to love you! Little soft arms that will +hardly go round your neck. Little soft +cheeks against yours, little soft mouths and +little soft kisses,—ever think of them?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes were like stars. She was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> +looking into the future; her breath came +quickly; she sat quite still.</p> + +<p>The doctor swallowed hard, and went on. +"We mostly don't go much farther than +that at first. It's just the babies we want. +But you can look farther—can follow up, +year by year, the lovely changing growing +bodies and minds, the confidence and love +between you, the pride you have as health +is established, strength and skill developed, +and character unfolds and deepens.</p> + +<p>"Then when they are grown, and sort of +catch up, and you have those splendid young +lives about you, intimate strong friends and +tender lovers. And you feel as though +you had indeed done something for the +world."</p> + +<p>She stopped, saying no more for a little, +watching the girl's awed shining face. Suddenly +that face was turned to her, full of exquisite +sympathy, the dark eyes swimming +with sudden tears; and two soft eager arms +held her close.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Doctor! To care like that and +not—!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear;" said the doctor, quietly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> +"And not have any. Not be able to have +any—ever."</p> + +<p>Vivian caught her breath with pitying intensity, +but her friend went on.</p> + +<p>"Never be able to have a child, because I +married a man who had gonorrhea. In place +of happy love, lonely pain. In place of +motherhood, disease. Misery and shame, +child. Medicine and surgery, and never +any possibility of any child for me."</p> + +<p>The girl was pale with horror. "I—I +didn't know—" She tried to say something, +but the doctor burst out impatiently:</p> + +<p>"No! You don't know. I didn't know. +Girls aren't taught a word of what's before +them till it's too late—not <i>then</i>, sometimes! +Women lose every joy in life, every hope, +every capacity for service or pleasure. They +go down to their graves without anyone's +telling them the cause of it all."</p> + +<p>"That was why you—left him?" asked +Vivian presently.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I left him. When I found I could +not be a mother I determined to be a doctor, +and save other women, if I could." She said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> +this with such slow, grave emphasis that Vivian +turned a sudden startled face to her, +and went white to the lips.</p> + +<p>"I may be wrong," the doctor said, "you +have not given me your confidence in this +matter. But it is better, a thousand times +better, that I should make this mistake than +for you to make that. You must not marry +Morton Elder."</p> + +<p>Vivian did not admit nor deny. She still +wore that look of horror.</p> + +<p>"You think he has—That?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know whether he has gonorrhea +or not; it takes a long microscopic analysis +to be sure; but there is every practical assurance +that he's had it, and I know he's +had syphilis."</p> + +<p>If Vivian could have turned paler she +would have, then.</p> + +<p>"I've heard of—that," she said, shuddering.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the other is newer to our knowledge, +far commoner, and really more dangerous. +They are two of the most terrible diseases +known to us; highly contagious, and in the +case of syphilis, hereditary. Nearly three-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span>quarters +of the men have one or the other, +or both."</p> + +<p>But Vivian was not listening. Her face +was buried in her hands. She crouched low +in agonized weeping.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, come, my dear. Don't take +it so hard. There's no harm done you see, +it's not too late."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it <i>is</i> too late! It is!" wailed the girl. +"I have promised to marry him."</p> + +<p>"I don't care if you were at the altar, child; +you <i>haven't</i> married him, and you mustn't."</p> + +<p>"I have given my word!" said the girl +dully. She was thinking of Morton now. +Of his handsome face, with it's new expression +of respectful tenderness; of all the +hopes they had built together; of his life, +so dependent upon hers for its higher interests.</p> + +<p>She turned to the doctor, her lips quivering. +"He <i>loves</i> me!" she said. "I—we—he +says I am all that holds him up, that helps +him to make a newer better life. And he has +changed so—I can see it! He says he has +loved me, really, since he was seventeen!"</p> + +<p>The older sterner face did not relax.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span></p> + +<p>"He told me he had—done wrong. He +was honest about it. He said he wasn't—worthy."</p> + +<p>"He isn't," said Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"But surely I owe some duty to him. He +depends on me. And I have promised—"</p> + +<p>The doctor grew grimmer. "Marriage is +for motherhood," she said. "That is its initial +purpose. I suppose you might deliberately +forego motherhood, and undertake a +sort of missionary relation to a man, but +that is not marriage."</p> + +<p>"He loves me," said the girl with gentle +stubbornness. She saw Morton's eyes, as +she had so often seen them lately; full of +adoration and manly patience. She felt his +hand, as she had felt it so often lately, holding +hers, stealing about her waist, sometimes +bringing her fingers to his lips for a strong +slow kiss which she could not forget for +hours.</p> + +<p>She raised her head. A new wave of feeling +swept over her. She saw a vista of self-sacrificing +devotion, foregoing much, forgiving +much, but rejoicing in the companionship +of a noble life, a soul rebuilt, a love that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> +was passionately grateful. Her eyes met +those of her friend fairly. "And I love +him!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell that to your crippled children?" +asked Dr. Bellair. "Will they understand +it if they are idiots? Will they see it +if they are blind? Will it satisfy you when +they are dead?"</p> + +<p>The girl shrank before her.</p> + +<p>"You <i>shall</i> understand," said the doctor. +"This is no case for idealism and exalted +emotion. Do you want a son like Theophile?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you said—they didn't have +any."</p> + +<p>"Some don't—that is one result. Another +result—of gonorrhea—is to have children +born blind. Their eyes may be saved, with +care. But it is not a motherly gift for one's +babies—blindness. You may have years and +years of suffering yourself—any or all of +those diseases 'peculiar to women' as we used +to call them! And we pitied the men who +'were so good to their invalid wives'! You +may have any number of still-born children, +year after year. And every little marred +dead face would remind you that you allowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> +it! And they may be deformed and twisted, +have all manner of terrible and loathsome +afflictions, they and their children after them, +if they have any. And many do! dear girl, +don't you see that's wicked?"</p> + +<p>Vivian was silent, her two hands wrung +together; her whole form shivering with +emotion.</p> + +<p>"Don't think that you are 'ruining his +life,'" said the doctor kindly. "He ruined +it long ago—poor boy!"</p> + +<p>The girl turned quickly at the note of +sympathy.</p> + +<p>"They don't know either," her friend went +on. "What could Miss Orella do, poor little +saint, to protect a lively young fellow like +that! All they have in their scatter-brained +heads is 'it's naughty but it's nice!' And +so they rush off and ruin their whole lives—and +their wives'—and their children's. A +man don't have to be so very wicked, either, +understand. Just one mis-step may be +enough for infection."</p> + +<p>"Even if it did break his heart, and yours—even +if you both lived single, he because it +is the only decent thing he can do now, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +because of a misguided sense of devotion; +that would be better than to commit this +plain sin. Beware of a biological sin, my +dear; for it there is no forgiveness."</p> + +<p>She waited a moment and went on, as +firmly and steadily as she would have held +the walls of a wound while she placed the +stitches.</p> + +<p>"If you two love each other so nobly and +devotedly that it is higher and truer and +more lasting than the ordinary love of men +and women, you might be 'true' to one another +for a lifetime, you see. And all that +friendship can do, exalted influence, noble +inspiration—that is open to you."</p> + +<p>Vivian's eyes were wide and shining. She +saw a possible future, not wholly unbearable.</p> + +<p>"Has he kissed you yet?" asked the doctor +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"No," she said. "That is—except——"</p> + +<p>"Don't let him. You might catch it. +Your friendship must be distant. Well, +shall we be going back? I'm sorry, my dear. +I did hate awfully to do it. But I hated +worse to see you go down those awful steps +from which there is no returning."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vivian. "Thank you. Won't +you go on, please? I'll come later."</p> + +<p>An hour the girl sat there, with the clear +blue sky above her, the soft steady wind +rustling the leaves, the little birds that +hopped and pecked and flirted their tails so +near her motionless figure.</p> + +<p>She thought and thought, and through all +the tumult of ideas it grew clearer to her +that the doctor was right. She might sacrifice +herself. She had no right to sacrifice +her children.</p> + +<p>A feeling of unreasoning horror at this +sudden outlook into a field of unknown evil +was met by her clear perception that if she +was old enough to marry, to be a mother, she +was surely old enough to know these things; +and not only so, but ought to know them.</p> + +<p>Shy, sensitive, delicate in feeling as the +girl was, she had a fair and reasoning mind.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>DETERMINATION.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You may shut your eyes with a bandage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The while world vanishes soon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may open your eyes at a knothole<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And see the sun and moon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>It must have grieved anyone who cared +for Andrew Dykeman, to see Mrs. +St. Cloud's manner toward him +change with his changed circumstances—she +had been so much with him, had been +so kind to him; kinder than Carston comment +"knew for a fact," but not kinder than +it surmised.</p> + +<p>Then, though his dress remained as quietly +correct, his face assumed a worn and +anxious look, and he no longer offered her +long auto rides or other expensive entertainment. +She saw men on the piazza stop talking +as he came by, and shake their heads as +they looked after him; but no one would tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> +her anything definite till she questioned Mr. +Skee.</p> + +<p>"I am worried about Mr. Dykeman," she +said to this ever-willing confidant, beckoning +him to a chair beside her.</p> + +<p>A chair, to the mind of Mr. Skee, seemed +to be for pictorial uses, only valuable as +part of the composition. He liked one to +stand beside, to put a foot on, to lean over +from behind, arms on the back; to tip up in +front of him as if he needed a barricade; +and when he was persuaded to sit in one, +it was either facing the back, cross-saddle +and bent forward, or—and this was +the utmost decorum he was able to approach—tipped +backward against the wall.</p> + +<p>"He does not look well," said the lady, +"you are old friends—do tell me; if it is +anything wherein a woman's sympathy +would be of service?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not, Ma'am," replied Mr. +Skee darkly. "Andy's hard hit in a worse +place than his heart. I wouldn't betray a +friend's confidence for any money, Ma'am; +but this is all over town. It'll go hard with +Andy, I'm afraid, at his age."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she whispered. "So +sorry! But surely with a man of his abilities +it will be only a temporary reverse!—"</p> + +<p>"Dunno 'bout the abilities—not in this +case. Unless he has ability enough to discover +a mine bigger'n the one he's lost! You +see, Ma'am, it's this way," and he sunk his +voice to a confidential rumble. "Andy had +a bang-up mine, galena ore—not gold, you +understand, but often pays better. And he +kept on putting the money it made back into +it to make more. Then, all of a sudden, it +petered out! No more eggs in that basket. +'Course he can't sell it—now. And last +year he refused half a million. Andy's sure +down on his luck."</p> + +<p>"But he will recover! You western men +are so wonderful! He will find another +mine!"</p> + +<p>"O yes, he <i>may</i>! Certainly he <i>may</i>, +Ma'am. Not that he found this one—he +just bought it."</p> + +<p>"Well—he can buy another, there are +more, aren't there?"</p> + +<p>"Sure there are! There's as good mines +in the earth as ever was salted—that's my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> +motto! But Andy's got no more money to +buy any mines. What he had before he inherited. +No, Ma'am," said Mr. Skee, with +a sigh. "I'm afraid its all up with Andy +Dykeman financially!"</p> + +<p>This he said more audibly; and Miss Elder +and Miss Pettigrew, sitting in their parlor, +could not help hearing. Miss Elder gave a +little gasp and clasped her hands tightly, +but Miss Pettigrew arose, and came outside.</p> + +<p>"What's this about Mr. Dykeman?" she +questioned abruptly. "Has he had losses?"</p> + +<p>"There now," said Mr. Skee, remorsefully, +"I never meant to give him away like +that. Mrs. Pettigrew, Ma'am, I must beg +you not to mention it further. I was only +satisfyin' this lady here, in answer to sympathetic +anxiety, as to what was making Andrew +H. Dykeman so down in the mouth. +Yes'm—he's lost every cent he had in the +world, or is likely to have. Of course, +among friends, he'll get a job fast enough, +bookkeepin', or something like that—though +he's not a brilliant man, Andy isn't. You +needn't to feel worried, Mrs. Pettigrew; +he'll draw a salary all right, to the end of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> +time; but he's out of the game of Hot +Finance."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew regarded the speaker with +a scintillating eye. He returned her look +with unflinching seriousness. "Have a chair, +Ma'am," he said. "Let me bring out your +rocker. Sit down and chat with us."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," said the old lady. "It seems +to me a little—chilly, out here. I'll go in."</p> + +<p>She went in forthwith, to find Miss Orella +furtively wiping her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, Orella +Elder! Just because a man's lost his money? +That happens to most of 'em now and then."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know—but you heard what he +said. Oh, I can't believe it! To think of his +having to be provided for by his friends—and +having to take a small salary—after being +so well off! I am so sorry for him!"</p> + +<p>Miss Elder's sorrow was increased to intensity +by noting Mrs. St. Cloud's changed +attitude. Mr. Dykeman made no complaint, +uttered no protest, gave no confidences; but +it soon appeared that he was working in an +office; and furthermore that this position was +given him by Mr. Skee.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span></p> + +<p>That gentleman, though discreetly reticent +as to his own affairs, now appeared in +far finer raiment than he had hitherto affected; +developed a pronounced taste in fobs +and sleeve buttons; and a striking harmony +in socks and scarfs.</p> + +<p>Men talked openly of him; no one seemed +to know anything definite, but all were certain +that "Old Skee must have struck it +rich."</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee kept his own counsel; but became +munificent in gifts and entertainments. +He produced two imposing presents for +Susie; one a "betrothal gift," the other a +conventional wedding present.</p> + +<p>"This is a new one to me," he said when +he offered her the first; "but I understand +it's the thing. In fact I'm sure of it—for +I've consulted Mrs. St. Cloud and she helped +me to buy 'em."</p> + +<p>He consulted Mrs. St. Cloud about a dinner +he proposed giving to Mr. Saunders—"one +of these Farewell to Egypt affairs," +he said. "Not that I imagine Jim Saunders +ever was much of a—Egyptian—but +then——!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></p> + +<p>He consulted her also about Vivian—did +she not think the girl looked worn and ill? +Wouldn't it be a good thing to send her off +for a trip somewhere?</p> + +<p>He consulted her about a library; said he +had always wanted a library of his own, but +the public ones were somewhat in his way. +How many books did she think a man ought +really to own—to spend his declining years +among. Also, and at considerable length +he consulted her about the best possible place +of residence.</p> + +<p>"I'm getting to be an old man, Mrs. St. +Cloud," he remarked meditatively; "and I'm +thinking of buying and building somewhere. +But it's a ticklish job. Lo! these many years +I've been perfectly contented to live wherever +I was at; and now that I'm considering +a real Home—blamed if I know where +to put it! I'm distracted between A Model +Farm, and A Metropolitan Residence. +Which would you recommend, Ma'am?"</p> + +<p>The lady's sympathy and interest warmed +to Mr. Skee as they cooled to Mr. Dykeman, +not with any blameworthy or noticeable +suddenness, but in soft graduations, steady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> +and continuous. The one wore his new +glories with an air of modest pride; making +no boast of affluence; and the other accepted +that which had befallen him without rebellion.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella's tender heart was deeply +touched. As fast as Mrs. St. Cloud gave +the cold shoulder to her friend, she extended +a warm hand; when they chatted about Mr. +Skee's visible success, she spoke bravely of +the beauty of limited means; and when it was +time to present her weekly bills to the boarders, +she left none in Mr. Dykeman's room. +This he took for an oversight at first; but +when he found the omission repeated on the +following week, he stood by his window +smiling thoughtfully for some time, and then +went in search of Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>She sat by her shaded lamp, alone, knitting +a silk tie which was promptly hidden as +he entered. He stood by the door looking +at her in spite of her urging him to be seated, +observing the warm color in her face, the +graceful lines of her figure, the gentle +smile that was so unfailingly attractive. +Then he came forward, calmly inquir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span>ing, +"Why haven't you sent me my board +bill?"</p> + +<p>She lifted her eyes to his, and dropped +them, flushing. "I—excuse me; but I +thought——"</p> + +<p>"You thought I couldn't conveniently pay +it?"</p> + +<p>"O please excuse me! I didn't mean to +be—to do anything you wouldn't like. But +I did hear that you were—temporarily embarrassed. +And I want you to feel sure, Mr. +Dykeman, that to your real friends it makes +no difference in the <i>least</i>. And if—for a +while that is—it should be a little more convenient +to—to defer payment, please feel +perfectly at liberty to wait!"</p> + +<p>She stood there blushing like a girl, her +sweet eyes wet with shining tears that did +not fall, full of tender sympathy for his misfortune.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard that I've lost all my +money?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She nodded softly.</p> + +<p>"And that I can't ever get it back—shall +have to do clerk's work at a clerk's salary—as +long as I live?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span></p> + +<p>Again she nodded.</p> + +<p>He took a step or two back and forth in +the quiet parlor, and returned to her.</p> + +<p>"Would you marry a poor man?" he +asked in a low tender voice. "Would you +marry a man not young, not clever, not rich, +but who loved you dearly? You are the +sweetest woman I ever saw, Orella Elder—will +you marry me?"</p> + +<p>She came to him, and he drew her close +with a long sigh of utter satisfaction. "Now +I am rich indeed," he said softly.</p> + +<p>She held him off a little. "Don't talk +about being rich. It doesn't matter. If +you like to live here—why this house will +keep us both. If you'd rather have a little +one—I can live <i>so</i> happily—on <i>so</i> little! +And there is my own little home in Bainville—perhaps +you could find something to do +there. I don't care the least in the world—so +long as you love me!"</p> + +<p>"I've loved you since I first set eyes on +you," he answered her. "To see the home +you've made here for all of us was enough to +make any man love you. But I thought +awhile back that I hadn't any chance—you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> +weren't jealous of that Artificial Fairy, were +you?"</p> + +<p>And conscientiously Miss Orella lied.</p> + +<p>Carston society was pleased, but not surprised +at Susie's engagement; it was both +pleased and surprised when Miss Elder's +was announced. Some there were who protested +that they had seen it from the beginning; +but disputatious friends taxed them +with having prophesied quite otherwise.</p> + +<p>Some thought Miss Elder foolish to take +up with a man of full middle age, and with +no prospects; and others attributed the foolishness +to Mr. Dykeman, in marrying an old +maid. Others again darkly hinted that he +knew which side his bread was buttered—"and +first-rate butter, too." Adding that +they "did hate to see a man sit around and +let his wife keep boarders!"</p> + +<p>In Bainville circles the event created high +commotion. That one of their accumulated +maidens, part of the Virgin Sacrifice of New +England, which finds not even a Minotaur—had +thus triumphantly escaped from their +ranks and achieved a husband; this was flatly +heretical. The fact that he was a poor man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> +was the only mitigating circumstance, leaving +it open to the more captious to criticize +the lady sharply.</p> + +<p>But the calm contentment of Andrew +Dykeman's face, and the decorous bliss of +Miss Elder's were untroubled by what anyone +thought or said.</p> + +<p>Little Susie was delighted, and teased +for a double wedding; without success. +"One was enough to attend to, at one time," +her aunt replied.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>In all this atmosphere of wooings and +weddings, Vivian walked apart, as one in a +bad dream that could never end. That day +when Dr. Bellair left her on the hill, left her +alone in a strange new horrible world, was +still glaring across her consciousness, the end +of one life, the bar to any other. Its small +events were as clear to her as those which +stand out so painfully on a day of death; +all that led up to the pleasant walk, when an +eager girl mounted the breezy height, and +a sad-faced woman came down from it.</p> + +<p>She had waited long and came home +slowly, dreading to see a face she knew,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> +dreading worst of all to see Morton. The +boy she had known so long, the man she was +beginning to know, had changed to an unbelievable +horror; and the love which had so +lately seemed real to her recoiled upon her +heart with a sense of hopeless shame.</p> + +<p>She wished—eagerly, desperately, she +wished—she need never see him again. She +thought of the man's resource of running +away—if she could just <i>go</i>, go at once, and +write to him from somewhere.</p> + +<p>Distant Bainville seemed like a haven of +safety; even the decorous, narrow, monotony +of its dim life had a new attraction. These +terrors were not in Bainville, surely. Then +the sickening thought crept in that perhaps +they were—only they did not know it. Besides, +she had no money to go with. If only +she had started that little school sooner! +Write to her father for money she would +not. No, she must bear it here.</p> + +<p>The world was discolored in the girl's +eyes. Love had become a horror and marriage +impossible. She pushed the idea from +her, impotently, as one might push at a lava +flow.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span></p> + +<p>In her wide reading she had learned in a +vague way of "evil"—a distant undescribed +evil which was in the world, and which must +be avoided. She had known that there was +such a thing as "sin," and abhorred the very +thought of it.</p> + +<p>Morton's penitential confessions had given +no details; she had pictured him only as being +"led astray," as being "fast," even perhaps +"wicked." Wickedness could be forgiven; +and she had forgiven him, royally. +But wickedness was one thing, disease was +another. Forgiveness was no cure.</p> + +<p>The burden of new knowledge so distressed +her that she avoided the family entirely +that evening, avoided Susie, went to +her grandmother and asked if she might +come and sleep on the lounge in her room.</p> + +<p>"Surely, my child, glad to have you," said +Mrs. Pettigrew affectionately. "Better try +my bed—there's room a-plenty."</p> + +<p>The girl lay long with those old arms +about her, crying quietly. Her grandmother +asked no questions, only patted her softly +from time to time, and said, "There! There!" +in a pleasantly soothing manner. After<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> +some time she remarked, "If you want to +say things, my dear, say 'em—anything you +please."</p> + +<p>In the still darkness they talked long and +intimately; and the wise old head straightened +things out somewhat for the younger +one.</p> + +<p>"Doctors don't realize how people feel +about these matters," said Mrs. Pettigrew. +"They are so used to all kinds of ghastly +things they forget that other folks can't +stand 'em. She was too hard on you, +dearie."</p> + +<p>But Vivian defended the doctor. "Oh, +no, Grandma. She did it beautifully. And +it hurt her so. She told me about her own—disappointment."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember her as a girl, you see. +A fine sweet girl she was too. It was an +awful blow—and she took it hard. It has +made her bitter, I think, perhaps; that and +the number of similar cases she had to cope +with."</p> + +<p>"But, Grandma—is it—<i>can</i> it be as bad +as she said? Seventy-five per cent! Three-quarters +of—of everybody!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not everybody dear, thank goodness. +Our girls are mostly clean, and they save +the race, I guess."</p> + +<p>"I don't even want to <i>see</i> a man again!" +said the girl with low intensity.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't think you would, at first. +But, dear child—just brace yourself and +look it fair in the face! The world's no +worse than it was yesterday—just because +you know more about it!"</p> + +<p>"No," Vivian admitted, "But it's like +uncovering a charnel house!" she shuddered.</p> + +<p>"Never saw a charnel house myself," said +the old lady, "even with the lid on. But +now see here child; you mustn't feel as if +all men were Unspeakable Villains. They +are just ignorant boys—and nobody ever +tells 'em the truth. Nobody used to know +it, for that matter. All this about gonorrhea +is quite newly discovered—it has set the +doctors all by the ears. Having women doctors +has made a difference too—lots of difference."</p> + +<p>"Besides," she went on after a pause, +"things are changing very fast now, since +the general airing began. Dr. Prince Mor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span>row +in New York, with that society of his—(I +can never remember the name—makes +me think of tooth brushes) has done much; +and the popular magazines have taken it +up. You must have seen some of those +articles, Vivian."</p> + +<p>"I have," the girl said, "but I couldn't +bear to read them—ever."</p> + +<p>"That's it!" responded her grandmother, +tartly; "we bring up girls to think it is not +proper to know anything about the worst +danger before them. Proper!—Why my +dear child, the young girls are precisely the +ones <i>to</i> know! it's no use to tell a woman +who has buried all her children—or wishes +she had!—that it was all owing to her +ignorance, and her husband's. You have +to know beforehand if it's to do you any +good."</p> + +<p>After awhile she continued: "Women are +waking up to this all over the country, now. +Nice women, old and young. The women's +clubs and congresses are taking it up, as +they should. Some states have passed laws +requiring a medical certificate—a clean bill +of health—to go with a license to marry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> +You can see that's reasonable! A man has +to be examined to enter the army or navy, +even to get his life insured; Marriage and +Parentage are more important than those +things! And we are beginning to teach +children and young people what they ought +to know. There's hope for us!"</p> + +<p>"But Grandma—it's so awful—about the +children."</p> + +<p>"Yes dear, yes. It's pretty awful. But +don't feel as if we were all on the brink of +perdition. Remember that we've got a +whole quarter of the men to bank on. +That's a good many, in this country. We're +not so bad as Europe—not yet—in this line. +Then just think of this, child. We have +lived, and done splendid things all these +years, even with this load of disease on us. +Think what we can do when we're rid of it! +And that's in the hands of woman, my dear—as +soon as we know enough. Don't be +afraid of knowledge. When we all know +about this we can stop it! Think of that. +We can religiously rid the world of all these—'undesirable +citizens.'"</p> + +<p>"How, Grandma?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span></p> + +<p>"Easy enough, my dear. By not marrying +them."</p> + +<p>There was a lasting silence.</p> + +<p>Grandma finally went to sleep, making +a little soft whistling sound through her +parted lips; but Vivian lay awake for long +slow hours.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It was one thing to make up her own +mind, though not an easy one, by any +means; it was quite another to tell Morton.</p> + +<p>He gave her no good opportunity. He +did not say again, "Will you marry me?" +So that she could say, "No," and be done +with it. He did not even say, "When will +you marry me?" to which she could answer +"Never!" He merely took it for granted +that she was going to, and continued to +monopolize her as far as possible, with all +pleasant and comfortable attentions.</p> + +<p>She forced the situation even more sharply +than she wished, by turning from him +with a shiver when he met her on the stairs +one night and leaned forward as if to kiss +her.</p> + +<p>He stopped short.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Vivian—are you +ill?"</p> + +<p>"No—" She could say nothing further, +but tried to pass him.</p> + +<p>"Look here—there <i>is</i> something. You've +been—different—for several days. Have I +done anything you don't like?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Morton!" His question was so exactly +to the point; and so exquisitely inadequate! +He had indeed.</p> + +<p>"I care too much for you to let anything +stand between us now," he went on.</p> + +<p>"Come, there's no one in the upper hall—come +and 'tell me the worst.'"</p> + +<p>"As well now as ever." thought the girl. +Yet when they sat on the long window seat, +and he turned his handsome face toward her, +with that newer, better look on it, she could +not believe that this awful thing was true.</p> + +<p>"Now then—What is wrong between +us?" he said.</p> + +<p>She answered only, "I will tell you the +worst, Morton. I cannot marry you—ever."</p> + +<p>He whitened to the lips, but asked quietly, +"Why?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because you have—Oh, I <i>cannot</i> tell +you!"</p> + +<p>"I have a right to know, Vivian. You +have made a man of me. I love you with +my whole heart. What have I done—that +I have not told you?"</p> + +<p>Then she recalled his contrite confessions; +and contrasted what he had told her with +what he had not; with the unspeakable fate +to which he would have consigned her—and +those to come; and a sort of holy rage rose +within her.</p> + +<p>"You never told me of the state of your +health, Morton."</p> + +<p>It was done. She looked to see him fall +at her feet in utter abashment, but he did +nothing of the kind. What he did do astonished +her beyond measure. He rose to +his feet, with clenched fists.</p> + +<p>"Has that damned doctor been giving +me away?" he demanded. "Because if he +has I'll kill him!"</p> + +<p>"He has not," said Vivian. "Not by the +faintest hint, ever. And is <i>that</i> all you think +of?—</p> + +<p>"Good-bye."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span></p> + +<p>She rose to leave him, sick at heart.</p> + +<p>Then he seemed to realize that she was +going; that she meant it.</p> + +<p>"Surely, surely!" he cried, "you won't +throw me over now! Oh, Vivian! I told +you I had been wild—that I wasn't fit to +touch your little slippers! And I wasn't +going to ask you to marry me till I felt sure +this was all done with. All the rest of my +life was yours, darling—is yours. You have +made me over—surely you won't leave me +now!"</p> + +<p>"I must," she said.</p> + +<p>He looked at her despairingly. If he +lost her he lost not only a woman, but the +hope of a life. Things he had never +thought about before had now grown dear +to him; a home, a family, an honorable place +in the world, long years of quiet happiness.</p> + +<p>"I can't lose you!" he said. "I <i>can't</i>!"</p> + +<p>She did not answer, only sat there with a +white set face and her hands tight clenched +in her lap.</p> + +<p>"Where'd you get this idea anyhow?" he +burst out again. "I believe it's that woman +doctor! What does she know!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look here, Morton," said Vivian firmly. +"It is not a question of who told me. The +important thing is that it's—true! And I +cannot marry you."</p> + +<p>"But Vivian—" he pleaded, trying to +restrain the intensity of his feeling; "men +get over these things. They do, really. It's +not so awful as you seem to think. It's +very common. And I'm nearly well. I +was going to wait a year or two yet—to +make sure—. Vivian! I'd cut my hand off +before I'd hurt you!"</p> + +<p>There was real agony in his voice, and +her heart smote her; but there was something +besides her heart ruling the girl +now.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry—I'm very sorry," she said +dully. "But I will not marry you."</p> + +<p>"You'll throw me over—just for that! +Oh, Vivian don't—you can't. I'm no worse +than other men. It seems so terrible to you +just because you're so pure and white. It's +only what they call—wild oats, you know. +Most men do it."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"And will you punish me—so cruelly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span>—for +that? I can't live without you, Vivian—I +won't!"</p> + +<p>"It is not a question of punishing you, +Morton," she said gently. "Nor myself. +It is not the sin I am considering. It is +the consequences!"</p> + +<p>He felt a something high and implacable +in the gentle girl; something he had never +found in her before. He looked at her with +despairing eyes. Her white grace, her +stately little ways, her delicate beauty, had +never seemed so desirable.</p> + +<p>"Good God, Vivian. You can't mean it. +Give me time. Wait for me. I'll be +straight all the rest of my life—I mean +it. I'll be true to you, absolutely. I'll +do anything you say—only don't give +me up!"</p> + +<p>She felt old, hundreds of years old, and +as remote as far mountains.</p> + +<p>"It isn't anything you can do—in the rest +of your life, my poor boy! It is what you +have done—in the first of it!... Oh, +Morton! It isn't right to let us grow up +without knowing! You never would have +done it <i>if</i> you'd known—would you? Can't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> +you—can't we—do something to—stop this +awfulness?"</p> + +<p>Her tender heart suffered in the pain she +was inflicting, suffered too in her own loss; +for as she faced the thought of final separation +she found that her grief ran back into +the far-off years of childhood. But she had +made up her mind with a finality only the +more absolute because it hurt her. Even +what he said of possible recovery did not +move her—the very thought of marriage had +become impossible.</p> + +<p>"I shall never marry," she added, with a +shiver; thinking that he might derive some +comfort from the thought; but he replied +with a bitter derisive little laugh. He did +not rise to her appeal to "help the others." +So far in life the happiness of Morton Elder +had been his one engrossing care; and now +the unhappiness of Morton Elder assumed +even larger proportions.</p> + +<p>That bright and hallowed future to which +he had been looking forward so earnestly +had been suddenly withdrawn from him; his +good resolutions, his "living straight" for +the present, were wasted.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span></p> + +<p>"You women that are so superior," he +said, "that'll turn a man down for things +that are over and done with—that he's sorry +for and ashamed of—do you know what you +drive a man to! What do you think's going +to become of me if you throw me over!"</p> + +<p>He reached out his hands to her in real +agony. "Vivian! I love you! I can't live +without you! I can't be good without you! +And you love me a little—don't you?"</p> + +<p>She did. She could not deny it. She +loved to shut her eyes to the future, to forgive +the past, to come to those outstretched +arms and bury everything beneath that one +overwhelming phrase—"I love you!"</p> + +<p>But she heard again Dr. Bellair's clear +low accusing voice—"Will you tell that to +your crippled children?"</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet. "I cannot help it, +Morton. I am sorry—you will not believe +how sorry I am! But I will never marry +you."</p> + +<p>A look of swift despair swept over his +face. It seemed to darken visibly as she +watched. An expression of bitter hatred +came upon him; of utter recklessness.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span></p> + +<p>All that the last few months had seemed +to bring of higher better feeling fell from +him; and even as she pitied him she thought +with a flicker of fear of how this might have +happened—after marriage.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well!" he said, rising to his feet. "I +wish you could have made up your mind +sooner, that's all. I'll take myself off now."</p> + +<p>She reached out her hands to him.</p> + +<p>"Morton! Please!—don't go away feeling +so hardly! I am—fond of you—I always +was.—Won't you let me help you—to +bear it—! Can't we be—friends?"</p> + +<p>Again he laughed that bitter little laugh. +"No, Miss Lane," he said. "We distinctly +cannot. This is good-bye—You won't +change your mind—again?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head in silence, and he left +her.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>THEREAFTER.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:33%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I do right, though heavens fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And end all light and laughter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though black the night and ages long,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bitter the cold—the tempest strong—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I do right, and brave it all—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sun shall rise thereafter!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The inaccessibility of Dr. Hale gave +him, in the eye of Mrs. St. Cloud, +all the attractiveness of an unscaled +peak to the true mountain climber. Here +was a man, an unattached man, living next +door to her, whom she had not even seen. +Her pursuance of what Mr. Skee announced +to his friends to be "one of these Platonic +Friendships," did not falter; neither did +her interest in other relations less philosophic. +Mr. Dykeman's precipitate descent +from the class of eligibles was more of a disappointment +to her than she would admit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +even to herself; his firm, kind friendliness +had given a sense of comfort, of achieved +content that her restless spirit missed.</p> + +<p>But Dr. Hale, if he had been before inaccessible, +had now become so heavily fortified, +so empanoplied in armor offensive and defensive, +that even Mrs. Pettigrew found it +difficult to obtain speech with him.</p> + +<p>That his best friend, so long supporting +him in cheerful bachelorhood, should have +thus late laid down his arms, was bitterly +resented. That Mr. Skee, free lance of +years standing, and risen victor from several +"stricken fields," should show signs of capitulation, +annoyed him further. Whether +these feelings derived their intensity from +another, which he entirely refused to acknowledge, +is matter for the psychologist, +and Dr. Hale avoided all psychologic self-examination.</p> + +<p>With the boys he was always a hero. They +admired his quiet strength and the unbroken +good nature that was always presented to +those about him, whatever his inner feelings.</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters burst forth to the others one +day, in tones of impassioned admiration.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span></p> + +<p>"By George, fellows," he said, "you know +how nice Doc was last night?"</p> + +<p>"Never saw him when he wasn't," said +Archie.</p> + +<p>"Don't interrupt Mr. Peters," drawled +Percy. "He's on the brink of a scientific +discovery. Strange how these secrets of +nature can lie unrevealed about us so +long—and then suddenly burst upon our +ken!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters grinned affably. "That's all +right, but I maintain my assertion; whatever +the general attraction of our noble host, +you'll admit that on the special occasion of +yesterday evening, which we celebrated to a +late hour by innocent games of cards—he +was—as usual—the soul of—of——"</p> + +<p>"Affability?" suggested Percy.</p> + +<p>"Precisely!" Peters admitted. "If there +is a well-chosen word which perfectly describes +the manner of Dr. Richard Hale—it +is affable! Thank you, sir, thank you. Well, +what I wish to announce, so that you can all +of you get down on your knees at once and +worship, is that all last evening he—had +a toothache—a bad toothache!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span></p> + +<p>"My word!" said Archie, and remained +silent.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now," Percy protested, "that's +against nature. Have a toothache and not +<i>mention</i> it? Not even mention it—without +exaggeration! Why Archimedes couldn't +do that! Or—Sandalphon—or any of them!"</p> + +<p>"How'd you learn the facts, my son? Tell +us that."</p> + +<p>"Heard him on the 'phone making an appointment. +'Yes;' 'since noon yesterday,' +'yes, pretty severe.' '11:30? You can't make +it earlier? All right.' I'm just mentioning +it to convince you fellows that you don't appreciate +your opportunities. There was +some exceptional Female once—they said +'to know her was a liberal education.' What +would you call it to live with Dr. Hale?"</p> + +<p>And they called it every fine thing they +could think of; for these boys knew better +than anyone else, the effect of that association.</p> + +<p>His patients knew him as wise, gentle, efficient, +bringing a sense of hope and assurance +by the mere touch of that strong hand; +his professional associates in the town knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> +him as a good practitioner and friend, and +wider medical circles, readers of his articles +in the professional press had an even higher +opinion of his powers.</p> + +<p>Yet none of these knew Richard Hale. +None saw him sitting late in his office, the +pages of his book unturned, his eyes on the +red spaces of the fire. No one was with him +on those night tramps that left but an hour +or two of sleep to the long night, and made +that sleep irresistible from self-enforced fatigue. +He had left the associations of his +youth and deliberately selected this far-off +mountain town to build the life he chose; and +if he found it unsatisfying no one was the +wiser.</p> + +<p>His successive relays of boys, young fellows +fresh from the East, coming from year +to year and going from year to year as business +called them, could and did give good +testimony as to the home side of his character, +however. It was not in nature that +they should speculate about him. As they +fell in love and out again with the facility of +so many Romeos, they discoursed among +themselves as to his misogyny.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span></p> + +<p>"He certainly has a grouch on women," +they would admit. "That's the one thing +you can't talk to him about—shuts up like a +clam. Of course, he'll let you talk about +your own feelings and experiences, but you +might as well talk to the side of a hill. I +wonder what did happen to him?"</p> + +<p>They made no inquiry, however. It was +reported that a minister's wife, a person of +determined character, had had the courage +of her inquisitiveness, and asked him once, +"Why is it that you have never married, Dr. +Hale?" And that he had replied, "It is +owing to my dislike of the meddlesomeness +of women." He lived his own life, unquestioned, +now more markedly withdrawn than +ever, coming no more to The Cottonwoods.</p> + +<p>Even when Morton Elder left, suddenly +and without warning, to the great grief of +his aunt and astonishment of his sister, their +medical neighbor still "sulked in his tent"—or +at least in his office.</p> + +<p>Morton's departure had but one explanation; +it must be that Vivian had refused him, +and she did not deny it.</p> + +<p>"But why, Vivian, why? He has im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span>proved +so—it was just getting lovely to see +how nice he was getting. And we all thought +you were so happy." Thus the perplexed +Susie. And Vivian found herself utterly +unable to explain to that happy little heart, +on the brink of marriage, why she had refused +her brother.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella was even harder to satisfy. +"It's not as if you were a foolish changeable +young girl, my dear. And you've known +Morton all your life—he was no stranger to +you. It breaks my heart, Vivian. Can't +you reconsider?"</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I'm awfully sorry, Miss Orella. Please +believe that I did it for the best—and that it +was very hard for me, too."</p> + +<p>"But, Vivian! What can be the reason? +I don't think you understand what a beautiful +influence you have on the boy. He has +improved so, since he has been here. And he +was going to get a position here in town—he +told me so himself—and really settle down. +And now he's <i>gone</i>. Just off and away, as +he used to be—and I never shall feel easy +about him again."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Orella was frankly crying; and it +wrung the girl's heart to know the pain she +was causing; not only to Morton, and to +herself, but to these others.</p> + +<p>Susie criticised her with frankness.</p> + +<p>"I know you think you are right, Vivian, +you always do—you and that conscience of +yours. But I really think you had gone too +far to draw back, Jimmie saw him that night +he went away—and he said he looked awfully. +And he really was changed so—beginning +to be so thoroughly nice. Whatever +was the matter? I think you ought to tell +me, Vivian, I'm his sister, and—being engaged +and all—perhaps I could straighten +it out."</p> + +<p>And she was as nearly angry as her sunny +nature allowed, when her friend refused to +give any reason, beyond that she thought it +right.</p> + +<p>Her aunt did not criticise, but pleaded. +"It's not too late, I'm sure, Vivian. A word +from you would bring him back in a moment. +Do speak it, Vivian—do! Put your pride +in your pocket, child, and don't lose a lifetime's +happiness for some foolish quarrel."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Orella, like Susie, was at present +sure that marriage must mean a lifetime's +happiness. And Vivian looked miserably +from one to the other of these loving women-folk, +and could not defend herself with the +truth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew took up the cudgels for +her. She was not going to have her favorite +grandchild thus condemned and keep silence. +"Anybody'd think Vivian had married the +man and then run away with another one!" +she said tartly. "Pity if a girl can't change +her mind before marrying—she's held down +pretty close afterward. An engagement isn't +a wedding, Orella Elder."</p> + +<p>"But you don't consider the poor boy's +feelings in the least, Mrs. Pettigrew."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," snapped the old lady. "I +consider the poor girl's. I'm willing to bet +as much as you will that his feelings aren't +any worse than hers. If <i>he'd</i> changed his +mind and run off and left <i>her</i>, I warrant you +two wouldn't have been so hard on him."</p> + +<p>Evading this issue, Miss Orella wiped her +eyes, and said: "Heaven knows where he is +now. And I'm afraid he won't write—he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span> +never did write much, and now he's just +heartbroken. I don't know as I'd have seen +him at all if I hadn't been awake and heard +him rushing downstairs. You've no idea +how he suffers."</p> + +<p>"I don't see as the girl's to blame that he +hadn't decency enough to say good-bye to +the aunt that's been a mother to him; or to +write to her, as he ought to. A person don't +need to forget <i>all</i> their duty because they've +got the mitten."</p> + +<p>Vivian shrank away from them all. Her +heart ached intolerably. She had not realized +how large a part in her life this constant +admiration and attention had become. She +missed the outward agreeableness, and the +soft tide of affection, which had risen more +and more warmly about her. From her +earliest memories she had wished for affection—affection +deep and continuous, tender +and with full expression. She had been too +reserved to show her feeling, too proud by +far to express it, but under that delicate reticence +of hers lay always that deep longing +to love and to be loved wholly.</p> + +<p>Susie had been a comfort always, in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> +kittenish affection and caressing ways, but +Susie was doubly lost, both in her new absorption +and now in this estrangement.</p> + +<p>Then, to bring pain to Miss Orella, who +had been so kind and sweet to her from earliest +childhood, to hurt her so deeply, now, +to mingle in her cup of happiness this grief +and anxiety, made the girl suffer keenly. +Jimmie, of course, was able to comfort Susie. +He told her it was no killing matter anyhow, +and that Morton would inevitably console +himself elsewhere. "He'll never wear the +willow for any girl, my dear. Don't you +worry about him."</p> + +<p>Also, Mr. Dykeman comforted Miss Orella, +not only with wise words, but with his +tender sympathy and hopefulness. But no +one could comfort Vivian.</p> + +<p>Even Dr. Bellair seemed to her present +sensitiveness an alien, cruel power. She had +come like the angel with the flaming sword +to stand between her and what, now that it +was gone, began to look like Paradise.</p> + +<p>She quite forgot that she had always +shrunk from Morton when he made love too +warmly, that she had been far from wholly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> +pleased with him when he made his appearance +there, that their engagement, so far as +they had one, was tentative—"sometime, +when I am good enough" not having arrived. +The unreasoning voice of the woman's nature +within her had answered, though but +partially, to the deep call of the man's; and +now she missed more than she would admit +to herself the tenderness that was gone.</p> + +<p>She had her intervals of sharp withdrawal +from the memory of that tenderness, of deep +thanksgiving for her escape; but fear of a +danger only prophesied, does not obliterate +memory of joys experienced.</p> + +<p>Her grandmother watched her carefully, +saying little. She forced no confidence, +made no comment, was not obtrusively affectionate, +but formed a definite decision +and conveyed it clearly to Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Jane Bellair, you've upset +Vivian's dish, and quite right; it's a good +thing you did, and I don't know as you could +have done it easier."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't have done it harder—that I +know of," the doctor answered. "I'd sooner +operate on a baby—without an anæsthetic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span>—than +tell a thing like that—to a girl like that. +But it had to be done; and nobody else +would."</p> + +<p>"You did perfectly right. I'm thankful +enough, I promise you; if you hadn't I +should have had to—and goodness knows +what a mess I'd have made. But look +here, the girl's going all to pieces. Now +we've got to do something for her, and do +it quick."</p> + +<p>"I know that well enough," answered her +friend, "and I set about it even before I +made the incision. You've seen that little +building going up on the corner of High +and Stone Streets?"</p> + +<p>"That pretty little thing with the grass +and flowers round it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—they got the flowers growing while +the decorators finished inside. It's a first-rate +little kindergarten. I've got a list of +scholars all arranged for, and am going to +pop the girl into it so fast she can't refuse. +Not that I think she will."</p> + +<p>"Who did it?" demanded Mrs. Pettigrew. +"That man Skee?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Skee has had something to do with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> +it," replied the doctor, guardedly; "but he +doesn't want his name mentioned."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>Vivian made no objection, though she was +too listless to take up work with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>As a prescription nothing could have +worked better. Enough small pupils were +collected to pay the rent of the pretty place, +and leave a modest income for her.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair gathered together the mothers +and aunts for a series of afternoon talks in +the convenient building, Vivian assisting, +and roused much interest among them. The +loving touch of little hands, the pleasure of +seeing the gay contentment of her well-ordered +charges, began to lighten the girl's +heart at last. They grew so fond of her that +the mothers were jealous, but she played +with and taught them so wisely, and the +youngsters were so much improved by it, +that no parent withdrew her darling.</p> + +<p>Further than that, the new interest, the +necessary reading and study, above all the +study hours of occupation acted most beneficently, +slowly, but surely steadying the +nerves and comforting the heart.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span></p> + +<p>There is a telling Oriental phrase describing +sorrow: "And the whole world became +strait unto him." The sense of final closing +down of life, of a dull, long, narrow path +between her and the grave, which had so oppressed +the girl's spirit, now changed rapidly. +Here was room to love at least, and she +radiated a happy and unselfish affection +among the little ones. Here was love in return, +very sweet and honest, if shallow. Here +was work; something to do, something to +think about; both in her hours with the children +and those spent in study. Her work +took her out of the house, too; away from +Susie and her aunt, with their happy chatter +and endless white needlework, and the gleeful +examination of presents.</p> + +<p>Never before had she known the blessed +relief of another place to go to.</p> + +<p>When she left The Cottonwoods, as early +as possible, and placed her key in the door of +the little gray house sitting among the roses, +she felt a distinct lightening of the heart. +This was hers. Not her father's, not Miss +Elder's; not anybody's but hers—as long as +she could earn the rent.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span></p> + +<p>She paid her board, too, in spite of deep +and pained remonstrance, forcing Miss Elder +to accept it by the ultimatum "would you +rather make me go away and board somewhere +else?" She could not accept favors +where she was condemned.</p> + +<p>This, too, gave her a feeling hitherto inexperienced, +deep and inspiring. She began +to hold her graceful head insensibly higher, +to walk with a freer step. Life was not +ended after all, though Love had gone. She +might not be happy, but she might be useful +and independent.</p> + +<p>Then Dr. Bellair, who had by quiet friendliness +and wise waiting, regained much of +her former place with the girl, asked her to +undertake, as a special favor to her, the care +of a class of rather delicate children and +young girls, in physical culture.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Johanna Johnson is perfectly +reliable and an excellent teacher. I don't +know a better; but their mothers will feel +easier if there's someone they know on the +spot. You keep order and see that they +don't overdo. You'll have to go through +their little exercises with them, you see. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> +can't pay you anything for it; but it's only +part of two afternoons in the week—and it +won't hurt you at any rate."</p> + +<p>Vivian was more than glad to do something +for the doctor, as well as to extend her +friendship among older children; also glad +of anything to further fill her time. To be +alone and idle was to think and suffer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew came in with Dr. Bellair +one afternoon to watch the exercises.</p> + +<p>"I don't see but what Vivian does the +tricks as well as any of them," said her +grandmother.</p> + +<p>"She does beautifully," the doctor answered. +"And her influence with the children +is just what they needed. You see +there's no romping and foolishness, and she +sets the pace—starts them off when they're +shy. I'm extremely obliged to her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew watched Vivian's rhythmic +movements, her erect carriage and +swinging step, her warm color and sparkling +eyes, as she led the line of happy youngsters +and then turned upon the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" she said.</p> + +<p>At Susie's wedding, her childhood's friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> +was so far forgiven as to be chief bridesmaid, +but seeing the happiness before her opened +again the gates of her own pain.</p> + +<p>When it was all over, and the glad young +things were safely despatched upon their +ribboned way, when all the guests had gone, +when Mrs. St. Cloud felt the need of air and +with the ever-gallant Mr. Skee set forth in +search of it, when Dr. Bellair had returned +to her patients, and Miss Orella to her own +parlor, and was there consoled by Mr. Dykeman +for the loss of her niece, then Vivian +went to her room—all hers now, looking +strangely large and empty—and set down +among the drifts of white tissue paper and +scattered pins—alone.</p> + +<p>She sank down on the bed, weary and sad +at heart, for an hour of full surrender long +refused; meaning for once to let her grief +have its full way with her. But, just as on +the night of her hurried engagement she had +been unable to taste to the full the happiness +expected, so now, surrender as she might, +she could not feel the intensity of expected +pain.</p> + +<p>She was lonely, unquestionably. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> +faced a lonely life. Six long, heavy months +had passed since she had made her decision.</p> + +<p>"I am nearly twenty-seven now," she +thought, resignedly. "I shall never marry," +and she felt a little shiver of the horror of +last year.</p> + +<p>But, having got this far in melancholy contemplation, +her mind refused to dwell upon +it, but filled in spite of her with visions of +merry little ones, prancing in wavering circles, +and singing their more wavering songs. +She was lonely and a single woman—but she +had something to do; and far more power to +do it, more interest, enthusiasm, and skill, +than at the season's beginning.</p> + +<p>She thought of Morton—of what little +they had heard since his hurried departure. +He had gone farther West; they had heard +of him in San Francisco, they had heard of +him, after some months, in the Klondike region, +then they had heard no more. He did +not write. It seemed hard to so deeply hurt +his aunt for what was no fault of hers; but +Morton had never considered her feelings +very deeply, his bitter anger, his hopeless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span>ness, +his desperate disappointment, blinding +him to any pain but his own.</p> + +<p>But her thoughts of him failed to rouse +any keen distinctive sorrow. They rambled +backward and forward, from the boy who +had been such a trouble to his aunt, such a +continuous disappointment and mortification; +to the man whose wooing, looked back +upon at this distance, seemed far less attractive +to the memory than it had been at the +time. Even his honest attempt at improvement +gave her but a feeling of pity, and +though pity is akin to love it is not always a +near relation.</p> + +<p>From her unresisting descent into wells of +pain, which proved unexpectedly shallow, +the girl arose presently and quietly set to +work arranging the room in its new capacity +as hers only.</p> + +<p>From black and bitter agony to the gray +tastelessness of her present life was not an +exciting change, but Vivian had more power +in quiet endurance than in immediate resistance, +and set herself now in earnest to fulfill +the tasks before her.</p> + +<p>This was March. She was planning an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> +extension of her classes, the employment of +an assistant. Her work was appreciated, her +school increased. Patiently and steadily she +faced her task, and found a growing comfort +in it. When summer came, Dr. Bellair again +begged her to help out in the plan of a girls' +camp she was developing.</p> + +<p>This was new work for Vivian, but her season +in Mrs. Johnson's gymnastic class had +given her a fresh interest in her own body +and the use of it. That stalwart instructress, +a large-boned, calm-eyed Swedish woman, +was to be the manager of the camp, and +Vivian this time, with a small salary attached, +was to act as assistant.</p> + +<p>"It's a wonderful thing the way people +take to these camps," said Dr. Bellair. +"They are springing up everywhere. Magnificent +for children and young people."</p> + +<p>"It is a wonderful thing to me," observed +Mrs. Pettigrew. "You go to a wild place +that costs no rent; you run a summer hotel +without any accommodations; you get a lot +of parents to pay handsomely for letting +their children be uncomfortable—and there +you are."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are not uncomfortable!" protested +her friend, a little ruffled. "They like it. +And besides liking it, it's good for them. It's +precisely the roughing it that does them +good."</p> + +<p>It did do them good; the group of young +women and girls who went to the high-lying +mountain lake where Dr. Bellair had bought +a piece of wild, rough country for her own +future use, and none of them profited by it +more than Vivian.</p> + +<p>She had been, from time to time, to decorous +"shore places," where one could do nothing +but swim and lie on the sand; or to the +"mountains," those trim, green, modest, +pretty-picture mountains, of which New +England is so proud; but she had never before +been in an untouched wilderness.</p> + +<p>Often in the earliest dawn she would rise +from the springy, odorous bed of balsam +boughs and slip out alone for her morning +swim. A run through the pines to a little +rocky cape, with a small cave she knew, and +to glide, naked, into that glass-smooth water, +warmer than the sunless air, and swim out +softly, silently, making hardly a ripple, turn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> +on her back and lie there—alone with the +sky—this brought peace to her heart. She +felt so free from every tie to earth, so like a +soul in space, floating there with the clean, +dark water beneath her, and the clear, bright +heaven above her; and when the pale glow in +the east brightened to saffron, warmed to +rose, burst into a level blaze of gold, the lake +laughed in the light, and Vivian laughed, too, +in pure joy of being alive and out in all that +glittering beauty.</p> + +<p>She tramped the hills with the girls; +picked heaping pails of wild berries, learned +to cook in primitive fashion, slept as she had +never slept in her life, from dark to dawn, +grew brown and hungry and cheerful.</p> + +<p>After all, twenty-seven was not an old age.</p> + +<p>She came back at the summer-end, and Dr. +Bellair clapped her warmly on the shoulder, +declaring, "I'm proud of you, Vivian! Simply +proud of you!"</p> + +<p>Her grandmother, after a judicious embrace, +held her at arm's length and examined +her critically.</p> + +<p>"I don't see but what you've stood it first +rate," she admitted. "And if you <i>like</i> that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span> +color—why, you certainly are looking well."</p> + +<p>She was well, and began her second year +of teaching with a serene spirit.</p> + +<p>In all this time of slow rebuilding Vivian +would not have been left comfortless if masculine +admiration could have pleased her. +The young men at The Cottonwoods, now +undistracted by Susie's gay presence, concentrated +much devotion upon Vivian, as did +also the youths across the way. She turned +from them all, gently, but with absolute decision.</p> + +<p>Among her most faithful devotees was +young Percy Watson, who loved her almost +as much as he loved Dr. Hale, and could +never understand, in his guileless, boyish +heart, why neither of them would talk about +the other.</p> + +<p>They did not forbid his talking, however, +and the earnest youth, sitting in the quiet +parlor at The Cottonwoods, would free his +heart to Vivian about how the doctor worked +too hard—sat up all hours to study—didn't +give himself any rest—nor any fun.</p> + +<p>"He'll break down some time—I tell him +so. It's not natural for any man to work that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span> +way, and I don't see any real need of it. He +says he's working on a book—some big medical +book, I suppose; but what's the hurry? I +wish you'd have him over here oftener, and +make him amuse himself a little, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Hale is quite welcome to come at any +time—he knows that," said she.</p> + +<p>Again the candid Percy, sitting on the doctor's +shadowy piazza, poured out his devoted +admiration for her to his silent host.</p> + +<p>"She's the finest woman I ever knew!" the +boy would say. "She's so beautiful and so +clever, and so pleasant to everybody. She's +<i>square</i>—like a man. And she's kind—like a +woman, only kinder; a sort of motherliness +about her. I don't see how she ever lived so +long without being married. I'd marry her +in a minute if I was good enough—and if +she'd have me."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale tousled the ears of Balzac, the +big, brown dog whose head was so often on +his knee, and said nothing. He had not seen +the girl since that night by the arbor.</p> + +<p>Later in the season he learned, perforce, +to know her better, and to admire her more.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span></p> + +<p>Susie's baby came with the new year, and +brought danger and anxiety. They hardly +hoped to save the life of the child. The little +mother was long unable to leave her bed. +Since her aunt was not there, but gone, as +Mrs. Dykeman, on an extended tour—"part +business and part honeymoon," her husband +told her—and since Mrs. Pettigrew now +ruled alone at The Cottonwoods, with every +evidence of ability and enjoyment, Vivian +promptly installed herself in the Saunders +home, as general housekeeper and nurse.</p> + +<p>She was glad then of her strength, and +used it royally, comforting the wretched Jim, +keeping up Susie's spirits, and mothering the +frail tiny baby with exquisite devotion.</p> + +<p>Day after day the doctor saw her, sweet +and strong and patient, leaving her school to +the assistant, regardless of losses, showing +the virtues he admired most in women.</p> + +<p>He made his calls as short as possible; but +even so, Vivian could not but note how his +sternness gave way to brusque good cheer for +the sick mother, and to a lovely gentleness +with the child.</p> + +<p>When that siege was over and the girl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span> +returned to her own work, she carried pleasant +pictures in her mind, and began to wonder, +as had so many others, why this man, +who seemed so fitted to enjoy a family, had +none.</p> + +<p>She missed his daily call, and wondered +further why he avoided them more assiduously +than at first.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>ACHIEVEMENTS.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:32%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There are some folk born to beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And some to plenteous gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some who are proud of being young,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some proud of being old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some who are glad of happy love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Enduring, deep and true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some who thoroughly enjoy<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The little things they do.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Upon all this Grandma Pettigrew +cast an observant eye, and meditated +sagely thereupon. Coming to +a decision, she first took a course of reading +in some of Dr. Bellair's big books, and +then developed a series of perplexing symptoms, +not of a too poignant or perilous nature, +that took her to Dr. Hale's office frequently.</p> + +<p>"You haven't repudiated Dr. Bellair, have +you?" he asked her.</p> + +<p>"I have never consulted Jane Bellair as a +physician," she replied, "though I esteem her +much as a friend."</p> + +<p>The old lady's company was always wel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span>come +to him; he liked her penetrating eye, +her close-lipped, sharp remarks, and appreciated +the real kindness of her heart.</p> + +<p>If he had known how closely she was peering +into the locked recesses of his own, and +how much she saw there, he would perhaps +have avoided her as he did Vivian, and if he +had known further that this ingenious old +lady, pursuing long genealogical discussions +with him, had finally unearthed a mutual +old-time friend, and had forthwith started +a correspondence with that friend, based on +this common acquaintance in Carston, he +might have left that city.</p> + +<p>The old-time friend, baited by Mrs. Pettigrew's +innocent comment on Dr. Hale's persistence +in single blessedness, poured forth +what she knew of the cause with no more +embellishment than time is sure to give.</p> + +<p>"I know why he won't marry," wrote she. +"He had reason good to begin with, but I +never dreamed he'd be obstinate enough to +keep it up sixteen years. When he was a +boy in college here I knew him well—he was +a splendid fellow, one of the very finest. But +he fell desperately in love with that beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> +Mrs. James—don't you remember about +her? She married a St. Cloud later, and he +left her, I think. She was as lovely as a +cameo—and as hard and flat. That woman +was the saintliest thing that ever breathed. +She wouldn't live with her husband because +he had done something wrong; she wouldn't +get a divorce, nor let him, because that was +wicked—and she always had a string of boys +round her, and talked about the moral influence +she had on them.</p> + +<p>"Young Hale worshipped her—simply +worshipped her—and she let him. She let +them all. She had that much that was god-like +about her—she loved incense. You need +not ask for particulars. She was far too +'particular' for that. But one light-headed +chap went and drowned himself—that was +all hushed up, of course, but some of us felt +pretty sure why. He was a half-brother to +Dick Hale, and Dick was awfully fond of +him. Then he turned hard and hateful all +at once—used to talk horrid about women. +He kept straight enough—that's easy for a +mysogynist, and studying medicine didn't +help him any—doctors and ministers know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> +too much about women. So there you are. +But I'm astonished to hear he's never gotten +over it; he always was obstinate—it's his +only fault. They say he swore never to +marry—if he did, that accounts. Do give +my regards if you see him again."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew considered long and deeply +over this information, as she slowly produced +a jersey striped with Roman vividness. +It was noticeable in this new life in +Carston that Mrs. Pettigrew's knitted jackets +had grown steadily brighter in hue from +month to month. Whereas, in Bainville, +purple and brown were the high lights, and +black, slate and navy blue the main colors; +now her worsteds were as a painter's palette, +and the result not only cheered, but bade +fair to inebriate.</p> + +<p>"A pig-headed man," she said to herself, +as her needle prodded steadily in and out; +"a pig-headed man, with a pig-headedness of +sixteen years' standing. His hair must 'a +turned gray from the strain of it. And +there's Vivian, biddin' fair to be an old maid +after all. What on <i>earth</i>!" She appeared +to have forgotten that marriages are made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span> +in heaven, or to disregard that saying. "The +Lord helps those that help themselves," was +one of her favorite mottoes. "And much +more those that help other people!" she used +to add.</p> + +<p>Flitting in and out of Dr. Hale's at all +hours, she noted that he had a fondness for +music, with a phenomenal incapacity to produce +any. He encouraged his boys to play +on any and every instrument the town afforded, +and to sing, whether they could or +not; and seemed never to weary of their attempts, +though far from satisfied with the +product.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>Vivian could play, "Well enough to know +better," she said, and seldom touched the +piano. She had a deep, full, contralto voice, +and a fair degree of training. But she would +never make music unless she felt like it—and +in this busy life, with so many people about +her, she had always refused.</p> + +<p>Grandma meditated.</p> + +<p>She selected an evening when most of the +boarders were out at some entertainment, +and selfishly begged Vivian to stay at home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span> +with her—said she was feeling badly and +wanted company. Grandma so seldom +wanted anything that Vivian readily acquiesced; +in fact, she was quite worried about +her, and asked Dr. Bellair if she thought +anything was the matter.</p> + +<p>"She has seemed more quiet lately," said +that astute lady, "and I've noticed her going +in to Dr. Hale's during office hours. But +perhaps it's only to visit with him."</p> + +<p>"Are you in any pain, Grandma?" asked +the girl, affectionately. "You're not sick, +are you?"</p> + +<p>"O, no—I'm not sick," said the old lady, +stoutly. "I'm just—well, I felt sort of lonesome +to-night—perhaps I'm homesick."</p> + +<p>As she had never shown the faintest sign +of any feeling for their deserted home, except +caustic criticism and unfavorable comparison, +Vivian rather questioned this theory, +but she began to think there was something +in it when her grandmother, sitting by +the window in the spring twilight, began to +talk of how this time of year always made +her think of her girlhood.</p> + +<p>"Time for the March peepers at home.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> +It's early here, and no peepers anywhere +that I've heard. 'Bout this time we'd be +going to evening meeting. Seems as if I +could hear that little old organ—and the +singing!"</p> + +<p>"Hadn't I better shut that window," +asked Vivian. "Won't you get cold?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," said her grandmother, +promptly. "I'm plenty warm—I've got this +little shawl around me. And it's so soft and +pleasant out."</p> + +<p>It was soft and pleasant, a delicious May-like +night in March, full of spring scents and +hints of coming flowers. On the dark piazza +across the way she could make out a still +figure sitting alone, and the thump of Balzac's +heel as he struggled with his intimate +enemies told her who it was.</p> + +<p>"Come Ye Disconsolate," she began to +hum, most erroneously. "How does that go, +Vivian? I was always fond of it, even if I +can't sing any more'n a peacock."</p> + +<p>Vivian hummed it and gave the words in +a low voice.</p> + +<p>"That's good!" said the old lady. "I declare, +I'm kinder hungry for some of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span> +old hymns. I wish you'd play me some of +'em, Vivian."</p> + +<p>So Vivian, glad to please her, woke the +yellow keys to softer music than they were +accustomed to, and presently her rich, low +voice, sure, easy, full of quiet feeling, flowed +out on the soft night air.</p> + +<p>Grandma was not long content with the +hymns. "I want some of those old-fashioned +songs—you used to know a lot of 'em. Can't +you do that 'Kerry Dance' of Molloy's, and +'Twickenham Ferry'—and 'Lauriger Horatius?'"</p> + +<p>Vivian gave her those, and many another, +Scotch ballads, English songs and German +Lieder—glad to please her grandmother so +easily, and quite unconscious of a dark figure +which had crossed the street and come silently +to sit on the farthest corner of their +piazza.</p> + +<p>Grandma, meanwhile, watched him, and +Vivian as well, and then, with the most unsuspected +suddenness, took to her bed. +Sciatica, she said. An intermittent pain +that came upon her so suddenly she couldn't +stand up. She felt much better lying down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> +And Dr. Hale must attend her unceasingly.</p> + +<p>This unlooked for overthrow of the phenomenally +active old lady was a great blow +to Mr. Skee; he showed real concern and +begged to be allowed to see her.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "It's +nothing catching."</p> + +<p>She lay, high-pillowed, as stiff and well +arranged as a Knight Templar on a tombstone, +arrayed for the occasion in a most +decorative little dressing sack and ribbony +night-cap.</p> + +<p>"Why, ma'am," said Mr. Skee, "it's +highly becomin' to you to be sick. It leads +me to hope it's nothin' serious."</p> + +<p>She regarded him enigmatically. "Is Dr. +Hale out there, or Vivian?" she inquired in +a low voice.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am—they ain't," he replied, after +a glance in the next room.</p> + +<p>Then he bent a penetrating eye upon her. +She met it unflinchingly, but as his smile +appeared and grew, its limitless widening +spread contagion, and her calm front was +broken.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span></p> + +<p>"Elmer Skee," said she, with sudden fury, +"you hold your tongue!"</p> + +<p>"Ma'am!" he replied, "I have said nothin'—and +I don't intend to. But if the +throne of Europe was occupied by you, +Mrs. Pettigrew, we would have a better +managed world."</p> + +<p>He proved a most agreeable and steady +visitor during this period of confinement, +and gave her full accounts of all that went +on outside, with occasional irrelevant bursts +of merriment which no rebuke from Mrs. +Pettigrew seemed wholly to check.</p> + +<p>He regaled her with accounts of his continuous +consultations with Mrs. St. Cloud, +and the wisdom and good taste with which +she invariably advised him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you admire a Platonic Friendship, +Mrs. Pettigrew?"</p> + +<p>"I do not!" said the old lady, sharply. +"And what's more I don't believe you do."</p> + +<p>"Well, ma'am," he answered, swaying +backward and forward on the hind legs of +his chair, "there are moments when I confess +it looks improbable."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew cocked her head on one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span> +side and turned a gimlet eye upon him. +"Look here, Elmer Skee," she said suddenly, +"how much money have you really +got?"</p> + +<p>He brought down his chair on four legs +and regarded her for a few moments, his +smile widening slowly. "Well, ma'am, if I +live through the necessary expenses involved +on my present undertaking, I shall have +about two thousand a year—if rents are +steady."</p> + +<p>"Which I judge you do not wish to be +known?"</p> + +<p>"If there's one thing more than another +I have always admired in you, ma'am, it is +the excellence of your judgment. In it I +have absolute confidence."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud had some time since summoned +Dr. Hale to her side for a severe +headache, but he had merely sent word that +his time was fully occupied, and recommended +Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Now, observing Mrs. Pettigrew's tactics, +the fair invalid resolved to take the bull by +the horns and go herself to his office. She +found him easily enough. He lifted his eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> +as she entered, rose and stood with folded +arms regarding her silently. The tall, heavy +figure, the full beard, the glasses, confused +even her excellent memory. After all it was +many years since they had met, and he had +been but one of a multitude.</p> + +<p>She was all sweetness and gentle apology +for forcing herself upon him, but really +she had a little prejudice against women +doctors—his reputation was so great—he +was so temptingly near—she was in such +pain—she had such perfect confidence in +him—</p> + +<p>He sat down quietly and listened, watching +her from under his bent brows. Her +eyes were dropped, her voice very weak and +appealing; her words most perfectly chosen.</p> + +<p>"I have told you," he said at length, "that +I never treat women for their petty ailments, +if I can avoid it."</p> + +<p>She shook her head in grieved acceptance, +and lifted large eyes for one of those +penetrating sympathetic glances so frequently +successful.</p> + +<p>"How you must have suffered!" she said.</p> + +<p>"I have," he replied grimly. "I have suf<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span>fered +a long time from having my eyes +opened too suddenly to the brainless cruelty +of women, Mrs. James."</p> + +<p>She looked at him again, searchingly, +and gave a little cry. "Dick Hale!" she +said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dick Hale. Brother to poor little +Joe Medway, whose foolish young heart +you broke, among others; whose death you +are responsible for."</p> + +<p>She was looking at him with widening wet +eyes. "Ah! If you only knew how I, too, +have suffered over that!" she said. "I was +scarce more than a girl myself, then. I was +careless, not heartless. No one knew what +pain I was bearing, then. I liked the admiration +of those nice boys—I never realized +any of them would take it seriously. That +has been a heavy shadow on my life, Dr. +Hale—the fear that I was the thoughtless +cause of that terrible thing. And you have +never forgiven me. I do not wonder."</p> + +<p>He was looking at her in grim silence +again, wishing he had not spoken.</p> + +<p>"So that is why you have never been to +The Cottonwoods since I came," she pur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span>sued. +"And I am responsible for all your +loneliness. O, how dreadful!"</p> + +<p>Again he rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"No, madam, you mistake. You were responsible +for my brother's death, and for a +bitter awakening on my part, but you are +in no way responsible for my attitude since. +That is wholly due to myself. Allow me +again to recommend Dr. Jane Bellair, an +excellent physician and even more accessible."</p> + +<p>He held the door for her, and she went +out, not wholly dissatisfied with her visit. +She would have been far more displeased +could she have followed his thoughts afterward.</p> + +<p>"What a Consummate Ass I have been all +my life!" he was meditating. "Because I +met this particular type of sex parasite, to +deliberately go sour—and forego all chance +of happiness. Like a silly girl. A fool girl +who says, 'I will never marry!' just because +of some quarrel * * * But the girl never +keeps her word. A man must."</p> + +<p>The days were long to Vivian now, and +dragged a little, for all her industry.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud tried to revive their former +intimacy, but the girl could not renew it on +the same basis. She, too, had sympathized +with Mr. Dykeman, and now sympathized +somewhat with Mr. Skee. But since that +worthy man still volubly discoursed on Platonism, +and his fair friend openly agreed +in this view, there seemed no real ground for +distress.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew remained ailing and +rather captious. She had a telephone put +at her bedside, and ran her household affairs +efficiently, with Vivian as lieutenant, and the +ever-faithful Jeanne to uphold the honor of +the cuisine. Also she could consult her +physician, and demanded his presence at all +hours.</p> + +<p>He openly ignored Mrs. St. Cloud now, +who met his rude treatment with secret, uncomplaining +patience.</p> + +<p>Vivian spoke of this. "I do not see why +he need be so rude, Grandma. He may hate +women, but I don't see why he should treat +her so shamefully."</p> + +<p>"Well, I do," replied the invalid, "and +what's more I'm going to show you; I've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> +always disliked that woman, and now I +know why. I'd turn her out of the house +if it wasn't for Elmer Skee. That man's as +good as gold under all his foolishness, and +if he can get any satisfaction out of that +meringue he's welcome. Dr. Hale doesn't +hate women, child, but a woman broke his +heart once—and then he made an idiot of +himself by vowing never to marry."</p> + +<p>She showed her friend's letter, and Vivian +read it with rising color. "O, Grandma! +Why that's worse than I ever thought—even +after what Dr. Bellair told us. And it was +his brother! No wonder he's so fond of +boys. He tries to warn them, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and the worst of it is that he's really +got over his grouch; and he's in love—but +tied down by that foolish oath, poor man."</p> + +<p>"Is he, Grandma? How do you know? +With whom?"</p> + +<p>"You dear, blind child!" said the old lady, +"with you, of course. Has been ever since +we came."</p> + +<p>The girl sat silent, a strange feeling of joy +rising in her heart, as she reviewed the +events of the last two years. So that was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> +why he would not stay that night. And that +was why. "No wonder he wouldn't come +here!" she said at length. "It's on account +of that woman. But why did he change?"</p> + +<p>"Because she went over there to see him. +He wouldn't come to her. I heard her +'phone to him one evening." The old lady +chuckled. "So she marched herself over +there—I saw her, and I guess she got her +needin's. She didn't stay long. And his +light burned till morning."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he cares for her, still?"</p> + +<p>"Cares for her!" The old lady fairly +snorted her derision. "He can't bear the +sight of her—treats her as if she wasn't +there. No, indeed. If he did she'd have +him fast enough, now. Well! I suppose +he'll repent of that foolishness of his all the +days of his life—and stick it out! Poor +man."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew sighed, and Vivian echoed +the sigh. She began to observe Dr. Hale with +new eyes; to study little matters of tone and +manner—and could not deny her grandmother's +statement. Nor would she admit +it—yet.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span></p> + +<p>The old lady seemed weaker and more +irritable, but positively forbade any word of +this being sent to her family.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing on earth ails me," she +said. "Dr. Hale says there's not a thing the +matter that he can see—that if I'd only eat +more I'd get stronger. I'll be all right soon, +my dear. I'll get my appetite and get well, +I have faith to believe."</p> + +<p>She insisted on his coming over in the +evening, when not too busy, and staying till +she dropped asleep, and he seemed strangely +willing to humor her; sitting for hours in +the quiet parlor, while Vivian played softly, +and sang her low-toned hymns.</p> + +<p>So sitting, one still evening, when for +some time no fretful "not so loud" had come +from the next room, he turned suddenly to +Vivian and asked, almost roughly—"Do +you hold a promise binding?—an oath, a +vow—to oneself?"</p> + +<p>She met his eyes, saw the deep pain there, +the long combat, the irrepressible hope and +longing.</p> + +<p>"Did you swear to keep your oath secret?" +she asked.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, no," he said, "I did not. I will tell +you. I did not swear never to tell a woman +I loved her. I never dreamed I should love +again. Vivian, I was fool enough to love a +shallow, cruel woman, once, and nearly +broke my heart in consequence. That was +long years ago. I have never cared for a +woman since—till I met you. And now I +must pay double for that boy folly."</p> + +<p>He came to her and took her hand.</p> + +<p>"I love you," he said, his tense grip hurting +her. "I shall love you as long as I +live—day and night—forever! You shall +know that at any rate!"</p> + +<p>She could not raise her eyes. A rich +bright color rose to the soft border of her +hair. He caught her face in his hands and +made her look at him; saw those dark, brilliant +eyes softened, tear-filled, asking, and +turned sharply away with a muffled cry.</p> + +<p>"I have taken a solemn oath," he said in +a strained, hard voice, "never to ask a +woman to marry me."</p> + +<p>He heard a little gasping laugh, and +turned upon her. She stood there smiling, +her hands reached out to him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't have to," she said.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>A long time later, upon their happy stillness +broke a faint voice from the other room:</p> + +<p>"Vivian, I think if you'd bring me some +bread and butter—and a cup of tea—and +some cold beef and a piece of pie—I could +eat it."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Upon the rapid and complete recovery of +her grandmother's health, and the announcement +of Vivian's engagement, Mr. and Mrs. +Lane decided to make a visit to their distant +mother and daughter, hoping as well that +Mr. Lane's cough might be better for a visit +in that altitude. Mr. and Mrs. Dykeman +also sent word of their immediate return.</p> + +<p>Jeanne, using subtle powers of suggestion, +caused Mrs. Pettigrew to decide upon +giving a dinner, in honor of these events. +There was the betrothed couple, there were +the honored guests; there were Jimmie and +Susie, with or without the baby; there were +the Dykemans; there was Dr. Bellair, of +course; there was Mr. Skee, an even number.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to spoil that table, but I've got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> +to take in Mrs. St. Cloud," said the old lady.</p> + +<p>"O, Grandma! Why! It'll spoil it for +Dick."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said her grandmother. "He's so +happy you couldn't spoil it with a mummy. +If I don't ask her it'll spoil it for Mr. Skee."</p> + +<p>So Mrs. St. Cloud made an eleventh at the +feast, and neither Mr. Dykeman nor Vivian +could find it in their happy hearts to care.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee arose, looking unusually tall +and shapely in immaculate every-day dress, +his well-brushed hair curling vigorously +around the little bald spots; his smile wide +and benevolent.</p> + +<p>"Ladies and Gentlemen, both Domestic +and Foreign, Friends and Fellowtownsmen +and Women—Ladies, God Bless 'em; also +Children, if any: I feel friendly enough to-night +to include the beasts of the fields—but +such would be inappropriate at this convivial +board—among these convivial boarders.</p> + +<p>"This is an occasion of great rejoicing. +We have many things to rejoice over, +both great <i>and</i> small. We have our healths; +all of us, apparently. We are experiencing +the joys of reunion—in the matter of visit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span>ing +parents that is, and long absent +daughters.</p> + +<p>"We have also the Return of the Native, +in the shape of my old friend Andy—now +become a Benedict—and seeming to enjoy +it. About this same Andy I have a piece of +news to give you which will cause you +astonishment and gratification, but which +involves me in a profuse apology—a most +sincere and general apology.</p> + +<p>"You know how a year or more ago it was +put about in this town that Andrew Dykeman +was a ruined man?" Mrs. St. Cloud +darted a swift glance at Mr. Dykeman, but +his eyes rested calmly on his wife; then at +Mr. Skee—but he was pursuing his remorseful +way.</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to blame my friend Andy +for his reticence—but he certainly did exhibit +reticence on this occasion—to beat the +band! He never contradicted this rumor—not +once. <i>He</i> just went about looking kind +o' down in the mouth for some reason or +other, and when for the sake o' Auld Lang +Syne I offered him a job in my office—the +cuss took it! I won't call this de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span>ceitful, +but it sure was reticent to a degree.</p> + +<p>"Well, Ladies—and Gentlemen—the best +of us are liable to mistakes, and I have to +admit—I am glad to humble myself and +make this public admission—I was entirely +in error in this matter.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't so. There was nothing in it. +It was rumor, pure and simple. Andy +Dykeman never lost no mine, it appears; or +else he had another up his sleeve concealed +from his best friends. Anyhow, the facts +are these; not only that A. Dykeman as he +sits before you is a prosperous and wealthy +citizen, but that he has been, for these ten +years back, and we were all misled by a mixture +of rumor and reticence. If he has concealed +these facts from the wife of his bosom +I submit that that is carrying reticence too +far!" Again Mrs. St. Cloud sent a swift +glance at the reticent one, and again caught +only his tender apologetic look toward his +wife, and her utter amazement.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I make no apologies for interrupting my +friend," he said. "It is necessary at times. +He at least can never be accused of reticence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> +Neither do I make apologies for letting +rumor take its course—a course often interesting +to observe. But I do apologize—in +this heartfelt and public manner, to my wife, +for marrying her under false pretenses. But +any of you gentlemen who have ever had any +experience in the attitude of," he hesitated +mercifully, and said, "the World, toward a +man with money, may understand what it +meant to me, after many years of bachelorhood, +to find a heart that not only loved me +for myself alone, but absolutely loved me +better because I'd lost my money—or she +thought I had. I have hated to break the +charm. But now my unreticent friend here +has stated the facts, and I make my confession. +Will you forgive me, Orella?"</p> + +<p>"Speech! Speech!" cried Mr. Skee. But +Mrs. Dykeman could not be persuaded to do +anything but blush and smile and squeeze +her husband's hand under the table, and Mr. +Skee arose once more.</p> + +<p>"This revelation being accomplished," he +continued cheerfully; "and no one any the +worse for it, as I see," he was not looking +in the direction of Mrs. St. Cloud, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> +slippered foot beat softly under the table, +though her face wore its usual sweet expression, +possibly a trifle strained; "I now proceed +to a proclamation of that happy event +to celebrate which we are here gathered together. +I allude to the Betrothal of Our +Esteemed Friend, Dr. Richard Hale, and +the Fairest of the Fair! Regarding the +Fair, we think he has chosen well. But regarding +Dick Hale, his good fortune is so +clear, so evidently undeserved, and his pride +and enjoyment thereof so ostentatious, +as to leave us some leeway to make remarks.</p> + +<p>"Natural remarks, irresistible remarks, as +you might say, and not intended to be +acrimonious. Namely, such as these: It's a +long lane that has no turning; There's many +a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip; The worm +will turn; The pitcher that goes too often to +the well gets broken at last; Better Late +than Never. And so on and so forth. Any +other gentleman like to make remarks on +this topic?"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale rose, towering to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I think I'd better make them," he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> +"No one else could so fully, so heartily, with +such perfect knowledge point out how many +kinds of a fool I've been for all these years. +And yet of them all there are only two that +I regret—this last two in which if I had been +wiser, perhaps I might have found my happiness +sooner. As that cannot be proven, +however, I will content myself with the general +acknowledgment that Bachelors are +Misguided Bats, I myself having long been +the worst instance; women, in general, are +to be loved and honored; and that I am +proud and glad to accept your congratulations +because the sweetest and noblest +woman in the world has honored me with +her love."</p> + +<p>"I never dreamed you could put so many +words together, Doc—and really make +sense!" said Mr. Skee, genially, as he rose +once more. "You certainly show a proper +spirit at last, and all is forgiven. But now, +my friends; now if your attention is not exhausted, +I have yet another Event to confide +to you."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Lane wore an aspect of +polite interest. Susie and Jim looked at each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> +other with a sad but resigned expression. +So did Mrs. Dykeman and her husband. +Vivian's hand was in her lover's and she +could not look unhappy, but they, too, deprecated +this last announcement, only too +well anticipated. Only Mrs. St. Cloud, her +fair face bowed in gentle confusion, showed +anticipating pleasure.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee waved his hand toward her with +a large and graceful gesture.</p> + +<p>"You must all of you have noticed the +amount of Platonic Friendship which has +been going on for some time between my +undeserving self and this lovely lady here. +Among so many lovely ladies perhaps I'd +better specify that I refer to the one on my +left.</p> + +<p>"What she has been to me, in my lonely +old age, none of you perhaps realize." +He wore an expression as of one long +exiled, knowing no one who could speak his +language.</p> + +<p>"She has been my guide, counsellor and +friend; she has assisted me with advice most +wise and judicious; she has not interfered +with my habits, but has allowed me to en<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span>joy +life in my own way, with the added attraction +of her companionship.</p> + +<p>"Now, I dare say, there may have been +some of you who have questioned my assertion +that this friendship was purely Platonic. +Perhaps even the lady herself, knowing the +heart of man, may have doubted if my feeling +toward her was really friendship."</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee turned his head a little to one +side and regarded her with a tender inquiring +smile.</p> + +<p>To this she responded sweetly: "Why no, +Mr. Skee, of course, I believed what you +said."</p> + +<p>"There, now," said he, admiringly. +"What is so noble as the soul of woman? It +is to this noble soul in particular, and to all +my friends here in general, that I now confide +the crowning glory of a long and checkered +career, namely, and to wit, that I am +engaged to be married to that Peerless +Lady, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, of whose remarkable +capacities and achievements I can +never sufficiently express my admiration."</p> + +<p>A silence fell upon the table. Mr. Skee +sat down smiling, evidently in cheerful ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span>pectation +of congratulations. Mrs. Pettigrew +wore an alert expression, as of a skilled +fencer preparing to turn any offered thrusts. +Mrs. St. Cloud seemed to be struggling with +some emotion, which shook her usual sweet +serenity. The others, too, were visibly +affected, and not quick to respond.</p> + +<p>Then did Mr. Saunders arise with real +good nature and ever-ready wit; and pour +forth good-humored nonsense with congratulations +all around, till a pleasant atmosphere +was established, in which Mrs. St. +Cloud could so far recover as to say many +proper and pretty things; sadly adding +that she regretted her imminent return to +the East would end so many pleasant +friendships.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="full" /> + + +<!--page 312 is blank +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span> +--> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> + + +<h2>BOOKS BY</h2> + +<h1>Charlotte Perkins Gilman</h1> + + +<h3>Moving the Mountain.</h3> + +<p>A Utopia at short range. How we might change this +country in thirty years, if we changed our minds first. +Mrs. Gilman's latest book, like her earliest verse, is a +protest against the parrot cry that "you can't alter human +nature."</p> +<p>By mail of Charlton Co. $1.10</p> + + +<h3>What Diantha Did.</h3> + +<p class="center">A Novel.</p> + +<p class="pa">"What she did was to solve the domestic service +problem for both mistress and maid in a southern California +town."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Survey.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"A sensible book, it gives a new and deserved comprehension +of the importance and complexity of housekeeping."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Independent.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"Mrs. Perkins Gilman is as full of ideas as ever, and +her Diantha is a model for all young women."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Englishwoman.</i>"</div> +<p>By mail of Charlton Co. $1.10</p> + +<br /> +<h3>The Man-Made World.</h3> + +<p class="pa">"We defy any thoughtful person to read this book of +Mrs. Gilman, and not be moved to or towards conviction, +whether he acknowledges it or not."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>San Francisco Star.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"Mrs. Gilman has presented in this work the results +of her thought, study, and observation of the much debated +question of the relation of man to woman and of +woman to man. The subject is developed with much wise +argument and wholesome sense of humor."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Craftsman.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"Mrs. Gilman has applied her theory with much cleverness, +consistency and logical thinking."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i>"</div> + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co. $1.10</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span></p> + + +<br /> +<h3>"IN THIS OUR WORLD"</h3> + +<p class="pa">There is a joyous superabundance of life, of +strength, of health, in Mrs. Gilman's verse, which +seems born of the glorious sunshine and rich gardens +of California.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Washington Times.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">The freshness, charm and geniality of her satire +temporarily convert us to her most advanced views.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Boston Journal.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">The poet of women and for women, a new and +prophetic voice in the world. Montaigne would have +rejoiced in her.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Mexican Herald.</i></div> + + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.25</b>.</p> + +<br /> +<h3>"THE HOME"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Indeed, Mrs. Gilman has not intended her book so +much as a treatise for scholars as a surgical operation +on the popular mind.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Critic, New York.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Whatever Mrs. Gilman writes, people read—approving +or protesting, still they read.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Republican, Springfield, Mass.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Full of thought and of new and striking suggestions. +Tells what the average woman has and ought not keep, +what she is and ought not be.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Literature World.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">But it is safe to say that no more stimulating arraignment +has ever before taken shape and that the argument +of the book is noble, and, on the whole, convincing.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Congregationalist, Boston.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">The name of this author is a guarantee of logical +reasoning, sound economical principles and progressive +thought.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Craftsman, Syracuse.</i></div> + + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.00</b>.<br /> +"The Home" has been translated into Swedish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span></p> + +<br /> +<h3>"WOMEN AND ECONOMICS"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Since John Stuart Mill's essay there has been no +book dealing with the whole position of women to +approach it in originality of conception and brilliancy +of exposition.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>London Chronicle.</i></div><br /> + + +<p class="pa">The most significant utterance on the subject since +Mill's "Subjection of Women."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Nation.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">It is the strongest book on the woman question that +has yet been published.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Minneapolis Journal.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">A remarkable book. A work on economics that has +not a dull page,—the work of a woman about women +that has not a flippant word.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">This book unites in a remarkable degree the charm +of a brilliantly written essay with the inevitable logic +of a proposition of Euclid. Nothing that we have +read for many a long day can approach in clearness +of conception, in power of arrangement, and in lucidity +of expression the argument developed in the first seven +chapters of this remarkable book.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Westminster Gazette, London.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Will be widely read and discussed as the cleverest, +fairest, most forcible presentation of the view of the +rapidly increasing group who look with favor on the +extension of industrial employment to women.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Political Science Quarterly.</i></div> + + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.50</b>.<br /> +"Women and Economics" has been translated into German, +Dutch, Italian, Hungarian, Russian and Japanese.</p> + +<br /> +<h3>"CONCERNING CHILDREN"</h3> + +<p class="pa"><span class="smcap">Wanted</span>:—A philanthropist, to give a copy to every +English-speaking parent.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Times, New York.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">Should be read by every mother in the land.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Press, New York.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Wholesomely disturbing book that deserves to be +read for its own sake.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Chicago Dial.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.25</b>.<br /> +"Concerning Children" has been translated into German, Dutch +and Yiddish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span></p> + +<br /> +<h3>"THE YELLOW WALLPAPER"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Worthy of a place beside some of the weird masterpieces +of Hawthorne and Poe.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Literature.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">As a short story it stands among the most powerful +produced in America.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Chicago News.</i></div> + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$0.50</b>.</p> + +<br /> +<h3>"HUMAN WORK"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Charlotte Perkins Gilman has added a third to her +great trilogy of books on economic subjects as they +affect our daily life, particularly in the home. Mrs. +Gilman is by far the most brilliant woman writer of our +day, and this new volume, which she calls "Human +Work," is a glorification of labor.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>New Orleans Picayune.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">Charlotte Perkins Gilman has been writing a new +book, entitled "Human Work." It is the best thing +that Mrs. Gilman has done, and it is meant to focus +all of her previous work, so to speak.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Tribune, Chicago.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">In her latest volume, "Human Work," Charlotte +Perkins Gilman places herself among the foremost +students and elucidators of the problem of social +economics.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>San Francisco Star.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">It is impossible to overestimate the value of the insistence +on the social aspect of human affairs as Mrs. +Gilman has outlined it.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Public Opinion.</i></div> + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.00</b>.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<div style="text-align: center">CHARLTON COMPANY, 67 Wall St., New York</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1>THE FORERUNNER</h1> + +<div class="center"> +A monthly magazine, written,<br /> +edited, owned and published</div> +<br /> +<div class="center">by</div> +<br /> +<div class="center"> + <span style="font-size: 120%;"> + <span class="smcap"><b>Charlotte Perkins Gilman</b></span> + </span> + <br /> + 67 Wall Street, New York City<br /> + U. S. A. +</div> + +<br /> +<div class="center">SUBSCRIPTION PER YEAR</div> + +<table summary="Subscription costs"> + <tr><td align="left">Domestic </td><td align="right">$1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Canadian</td><td align="right">1.12</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Foreign</td><td align="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table> +<br /> + + +<div class="center">Bound Volumes, each year $1.40 post paid</div> +<br /> + +<p>This magazine carries Mrs. Gilman's best and newest +work, her social philosophy, verse, satire, fiction, ethical +teaching, humor and opinion.</p> + +<p>It stands for Humanness in Women and Men; for +better methods in Child Culture; for the New Ethics, the +better Economics—the New World we are to make, are +making. The breadth of Mrs. Gilman's thought and her +power of expressing it have made her well-known in +America and Europe as a leader along lines of human +improvement and a champion of woman.</p> + +<p>THE FORERUNNER voices her thought and its +messages are not only many, but strong, true and vital.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="full" /> + + +</div> + + +<div class="transnote"> + +<p>Transcription Notes:</p> + +<p>The original spelling and minor inconsistencies in the spelling and +formatting have been retained.</p> + +<p>Minor punctuation . , ; " ' changes have been made without annotation.</p> + +<p>Other changes to the original text are listed as follows:</p> + +<ul> +<li>Page 2 Man-made/Man-Made: The Man-Made World</li> +<li>Page 9 Jessie/Josie: Miss Josie, the thin</li> +<li>Page 28 her/his: face between his hands</li> +<li>Page 45 evclaimed/exclaimed: exclaimed his wife</li> +<li>Page 110 Removed repeated word a: were a real</li> +<li>Page 115 who/why: why his hair's</li> +<li>Page 134 though/thought: I thought as much</li> +<li>Page 164 Mr./My: My dear Miss</li> +<li>Page 169 Removed repeated word and: her own and set it</li> +<li>Page 174 removed redundant word a: he had not had</li> +<li>Page 194 though/thought: I thought I heard</li> +<li>Page 197 litle/little: a little dampened</li> +<li>Page 240 weedings/weddings: wooings and weddings</li> +<li>Page 260 irrestible/irresistible: irresistible from self-enforced</li> +<li>Page 261 Cottonwood/Cottonwoods: to The Cottonwoods</li> +<li>Page 285 busband/husband: live with her husband</li> +<li>Page 317 massages/messages: its messages are not only</li> +</ul> + +</div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crux, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + +***** This file should be named 38551-h.htm or 38551-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/5/38551/ + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/38551-h/images/cover.jpg b/38551-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c1a9d2d --- /dev/null +++ b/38551-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/38551.txt b/38551.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fab72b5 --- /dev/null +++ b/38551.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7516 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crux, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Crux + +Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +Release Date: January 11, 2012 [EBook #38551] + +Most recently updated: October 28, 2022 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + + + + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + + + + +THE CRUX + + + + +BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN + + + Women and Economics $1.50 + Concerning Children 1.25 + In This Our World (verse) 1.25 + The Yellow Wallpaper (story) 0.50 + The Home 1.00 + Human Work 1.00 + What Diantha Did (novel) 1.00 + The Man-Made World; or, Our Androcentric Culture 1.00 + Moving the Mountain 1.00 + The Crux 1.00 + Suffrage Songs 0.10 + + + + + THE CRUX + + + A NOVEL + BY + CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN + + CHARLTON COMPANY + NEW YORK + 1911 + + + + + Copyright, 1911 + by + Charlotte Perkins Gilman + + + THE CO-OPERATIVE PRESS, 15 SPRUCE STREET, NEW YORK + + + + +PREFACE + + +This story is, first, for young women to read; second, for young men +to read; after that, for anybody who wants to. Anyone who doubts its +facts and figures is referred to "Social Diseases and Marriage," by +Dr. Prince Morrow, or to "Hygiene and Morality," by Miss Lavinia Dock, +a trained nurse of long experience. + +Some will hold that the painful facts disclosed are unfit for young +girls to know. Young girls are precisely the ones who must know them, +in order that they may protect themselves and their children to come. +The time to know of danger is before it is too late to avoid it. + +If some say "Innocence is the greatest charm of young girls," the +answer is, "What good does it do them?" + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. THE BACK WAY 9 + + II. BAINVILLE EFFECTS 31 + + III. THE OUTBREAK 60 + + IV. TRANSPLANTED 81 + + V. CONTRASTS 101 + + VI. NEW FRIENDS AND OLD 126 + + VII. SIDE LIGHTS 149 + + VIII. A MIXTURE 174 + + IX. CONSEQUENCES 204 + + X. DETERMINATION 229 + + XI. THEREAFTER 256 + + XII. ACHIEVEMENTS 283 + + + + + _Who should know but the woman?--The young wife-to-be? + Whose whole life hangs on the choice; + To her the ruin, the misery; + To her, the deciding voice._ + + _Who should know but the woman?--The mother-to-be? + Guardian, Giver, and Guide; + If she may not foreknow, forejudge and foresee, + What safety has childhood beside?_ + + _Who should know but the woman?--The girl in her youth? + The hour of the warning is then, + That, strong in her knowledge and free in her truth, + She may build a new race of new men._ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE BACK WAY + + Along the same old garden path, + Sweet with the same old flowers; + Under the lilacs, darkly dense, + The easy gate in the backyard fence-- + Those unforgotten hours! + + +The "Foote Girls" were bustling along Margate Street with an air of +united purpose that was unusual with them. Miss Rebecca wore her black +silk cloak, by which it might be seen that "a call" was toward. Miss +Josie, the thin sister, and Miss Sallie, the fat one, were more +hastily attired. They were persons of less impressiveness than Miss +Rebecca, as was tacitly admitted by their more familiar nicknames, a +concession never made by the older sister. + +Even Miss Rebecca was hurrying a little, for her, but the others were +swifter and more impatient. + +"Do come on, Rebecca. Anybody'd think you were eighty instead of +fifty!" said Miss Sallie. + +"There's Mrs. Williams going in! I wonder if she's heard already. Do +hurry!" urged Miss Josie. + +But Miss Rebecca, being concerned about her dignity, would not allow +herself to be hustled, and the three proceeded in irregular order +under the high-arched elms and fence-topping syringas of the small New +England town toward the austere home of Mr. Samuel Lane. + +It was a large, uncompromising, square, white house, planted starkly in +the close-cut grass. It had no porch for summer lounging, no front gate +for evening dalliance, no path-bordering beds of flowers from which to +pluck a hasty offering or more redundant tribute. The fragrance which +surrounded it came from the back yard, or over the fences of neighbors; +the trees which waved greenly about it were the trees of other people. +Mr. Lane had but two trees, one on each side of the straight and narrow +path, evenly placed between house and sidewalk--evergreens. + +Mrs. Lane received them amiably; the minister's new wife, Mrs. +Williams, was proving a little difficult to entertain. She was from +Cambridge, Mass., and emanated a restrained consciousness of that +fact. Mr. Lane rose stiffly and greeted them. He did not like the +Foote girls, not having the usual American's share of the sense of +humor. He had no enjoyment of the town joke, as old as they were, that +"the three of them made a full yard;" and had frowned down as a +profane impertinent the man--a little sore under some effect of +gossip--who had amended it with "make an 'ell, I say." + +Safely seated in their several rocking chairs, and severally rocking +them, the Misses Foote burst forth, as was their custom, in +simultaneous, though by no means identical remarks. + +"I suppose you've heard about Morton Elder?" + +"What do you think Mort Elder's been doing now?" + +"We've got bad news for poor Miss Elder!" + +Mrs. Lane was intensely interested. Even Mr. Lane showed signs of +animation. + +"I'm not surprised," he said. + +"He's done it now," opined Miss Josie with conviction. "I always said +Rella Elder was spoiling that boy." + +"It's too bad--after all she's done for him! He always was a scamp!" +Thus Miss Sallie. + +"I've been afraid of it all along," Miss Rebecca was saying, her voice +booming through the lighter tones of her sisters. "I always said he'd +never get through college." + +"But who is Morton Elder, and what has he done?" asked Mrs. Williams +as soon as she could be heard. + +This lady now proved a most valuable asset. She was so new to the +town, and had been so immersed in the suddenly widening range of her +unsalaried duties as "minister's wife," that she had never even heard +of Morton Elder. + +A new resident always fans the languishing flame of local +conversation. The whole shopworn stock takes on a fresh lustre, topics +long trampled flat in much discussion lift their heads anew, opinions +one scarce dared to repeat again become almost authoritative, old +stories flourish freshly, acquiring new detail and more vivid color. + +Mrs. Lane, seizing her opportunity while the sisters gasped a momentary +amazement at anyone's not knowing the town scapegrace, and taking +advantage of her position as old friend and near neighbor of the family +under discussion, swept into the field under such headway that even the +Foote girls remained silent perforce; surcharged, however, and holding +their breaths in readiness to burst forth at the first opening. + +"He's the nephew--orphan nephew--of Miss Elder--who lives right back +of us--our yards touch--we've always been friends--went to school +together, Rella's never married--she teaches, you know--and her +brother--he owned the home--it's all hers now, he died all of a sudden +and left two children--Morton and Susie. Mort was about seven years +old and Susie just a baby. He's been an awful cross--but she just +idolizes him--she's spoiled him, I tell her." + +Mrs. Lane had to breathe, and even the briefest pause left her stranded +to wait another chance. The three social benefactors proceeded to +distribute their information in a clattering torrent. They sought to +inform Mrs. Williams in especial, of numberless details of the early +life and education of their subject, matters which would have been +treated more appreciatively if they had not been blessed with the later +news; and, at the same time, each was seeking for a more dramatic +emphasis to give this last supply of incident with due effect. + +No regular record is possible where three persons pour forth statement +and comment in a rapid, tumultuous stream, interrupted by cross +currents of heated contradiction, and further varied by the +exclamations and protests of three hearers, or at least, of two; for +the one man present soon relapsed into disgusted silence. + +Mrs. Williams, turning a perplexed face from one to the other, inwardly +condemning the darkening flood of talk, yet conscious of a sinful +pleasure in it, and anxious as a guest, _and_ a minister's wife, to be +most amiable, felt like one watching three kinetescopes at once. She +saw, in confused pictures of blurred and varying outline, Orella Elder, +the young New England girl, only eighteen, already a "school ma'am," +suddenly left with two children to bring up, and doing it, as best she +could. She saw the boy, momentarily changing, in his shuttlecock flight +from mouth to mouth, through pale shades of open mischief to the black +and scarlet of hinted sin, the terror of the neighborhood, the darling +of his aunt, clever, audacious, scandalizing the quiet town. + +"Boys are apt to be mischievous, aren't they?" she suggested when it +was possible. + +"He's worse than mischievous," Mr. Lane assured her sourly. "There's a +mean streak in that family." + +"That's on his mother's side," Mrs. Lane hastened to add. "She was a +queer girl--came from New York." + +The Foote girls began again, with rich profusion of detail, their +voices rising shrill, one above the other, and playing together at +their full height like emulous fountains. + +"We ought not to judge, you know;" urged Mrs. Williams. "What do you +say he's really done?" + +Being sifted, it appeared that this last and most terrible performance +was to go to "the city" with a group of "the worst boys of college," +to get undeniably drunk, to do some piece of mischief. (Here was great +licence in opinion, and in contradiction.) + +"_Anyway_ he's to be suspended!" said Miss Rebecca with finality. + +"Suspended!" Miss Josie's voice rose in scorn. "_Expelled!_ They said +he was expelled." + +"In disgrace!" added Miss Sallie. + +Vivian Lane sat in the back room at the window, studying in the +lingering light of the long June evening. At least, she appeared to be +studying. Her tall figure was bent over her books, but the dark eyes +blazed under their delicate level brows, and her face flushed and +paled with changing feelings. + +She had heard--who, in the same house, could escape hearing the Misses +Foote?--and had followed the torrent of description, hearsay, surmise +and allegation with an interest that was painful in its intensity. + +"It's a _shame_!" she whispered under her breath. "A _shame_! And +nobody to stand up for him!" + +She half rose to her feet as if to do it herself, but sank back +irresolutely. + +A fresh wave of talk rolled forth. + +"It'll half kill his aunt." + +"Poor Miss Elder! I don't know what she'll do!" + +"I don't know what _he'll_ do. He can't go back to college." + +"He'll have to go to work." + +"I'd like to know where--nobody'd hire him in this town." + +The girl could bear it no longer. She came to the door, and there, as +they paused to speak to her, her purpose ebbed again. + +"My daughter, Vivian, Mrs. Williams," said her mother; and the other +callers greeted her familiarly. + +"You'd better finish your lessons, Vivian," Mr. Lane suggested. + +"I have, father," said the girl, and took a chair by the minister's +wife. She had a vague feeling that if she were there, they would not +talk so about Morton Elder. + +Mrs. Williams hailed the interruption gratefully. She liked the +slender girl with the thoughtful eyes and pretty, rather pathetic +mouth, and sought to draw her out. But her questions soon led to +unfortunate results. + +"You are going to college, I suppose?" she presently inquired; and +Vivian owned that it was the desire of her heart. + +"Nonsense!" said her father. "Stuff and nonsense, Vivian! You're not +going to college." + +The Foote girls now burst forth in voluble agreement with Mr. Lane. +His wife was evidently of the same mind; and Mrs. Williams plainly +regretted her question. But Vivian mustered courage enough to make a +stand, strengthened perhaps by the depth of the feeling which had +brought her into the room. + +"I don't know why you're all so down on a girl's going to college. Eve +Marks has gone, and Mary Spring is going--and both the Austin girls. +Everybody goes now." + +"I know one girl that won't," was her father's incisive comment, and her +mother said quietly, "A girl's place is at home--'till she marries." + +"Suppose I don't want to marry?" said Vivian. + +"Don't talk nonsense," her father answered. "Marriage is a woman's +duty." + +"What do you want to do?" asked Miss Josie in the interests of further +combat. "Do you want to be a doctor, like Jane Bellair?" + +"I should like to very much indeed," said the girl with quiet +intensity. "I'd like to be a doctor in a babies' hospital." + +"More nonsense," said Mr. Lane. "Don't talk to me about that woman! +You attend to your studies, and then to your home duties, my dear." + +The talk rose anew, the three sisters contriving all to agree with Mr. +Lane in his opinions about college, marriage and Dr. Bellair, yet to +disagree violently among themselves. + +Mrs. Williams rose to go, and in the lull that followed the liquid +note of a whippoorwill met the girl's quick ear. She quietly slipped +out, unnoticed. + +The Lane's home stood near the outer edge of the town, with an outlook +across wide meadows and soft wooded hills. Behind, their long garden +backed on that of Miss Orella Elder, with a connecting gate in the +gray board fence. Mrs. Lane had grown up here. The house belonged to +her mother, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, though that able lady was seldom +in it, preferring to make herself useful among two growing sets of +grandchildren. + +Miss Elder was Vivian's favorite teacher. She was a careful and +conscientious instructor, and the girl was a careful and conscientious +scholar; so they got on admirably together; indeed, there was a real +affection between them. And just as the young Laura Pettigrew had +played with the younger Orella Elder, so Vivian had played with little +Susie Elder, Miss Orella's orphan niece. Susie regarded the older girl +with worshipful affection, which was not at all unpleasant to an +emotional young creature with unemotional parents, and no brothers or +sisters of her own. + +Moreover, Susie was Morton's sister. + +The whippoorwill's cry sounded again through the soft June night. +Vivian came quickly down the garden path between the bordering beds of +sweet alyssum and mignonette. A dew-wet rose brushed against her hand. +She broke it off, pricking her fingers, and hastily fastened it in the +bosom of her white frock. + +Large old lilac bushes hung over the dividing fence, a thick mass of +honeysuckle climbed up by the gate and mingled with them, spreading +over to a pear tree on the Lane side. In this fragrant, hidden corner +was a rough seat, and from it a boy's hand reached out and seized the +girl's, drawing her down beside him. She drew away from him as far as +the seat allowed. + +"Oh Morton!" she said. "What have you done?" + +Morton was sulky. + +"Now Vivian, are you down on me too? I thought I had one friend." + +"You ought to tell me," she said more gently. "How can I be your friend +if I don't know the facts? They are saying perfectly awful things." + +"Who are?" + +"Why--the Foote girls--everybody." + +"Oh those old maids aren't everybody, I assure you. You see, Vivian, +you live right here in this old oyster of a town--and you make +mountains out of molehills like everybody else. A girl of your +intelligence ought to know better." + +She drew a great breath of relief. "Then you haven't--done it?" + +"Done what? What's all this mysterious talk anyhow? The prisoner has a +right to know what he's charged with before he commits himself." + +The girl was silent, finding it difficult to begin. + +"Well, out with it. What do they say I did?" He picked up a long dry +twig and broke it, gradually, into tiny, half-inch bits. + +"They say you--went to the city--with a lot of the worst boys in +college----" + +"Well? Many persons go to the city every day. That's no crime, surely. +As for 'the worst boys in college,'"--he laughed scornfully--"I +suppose those old ladies think if a fellow smokes a cigarette or says +'darn' he's a tough. They're mighty nice fellows, that bunch--most of +'em. Got some ginger in 'em, that's all. What else?" + +"They say--you drank." + +"O ho! Said I got drunk, I warrant! Well--we did have a skate on that +time, I admit!" And he laughed as if this charge were but a familiar +joke. + +"Why Morton Elder! I think it is a--disgrace!" + +"Pshaw, Vivian!--You ought to have more sense. All the fellows get gay +once in a while. A college isn't a young ladies' seminary." + +He reached out and got hold of her hand again, but she drew it away. + +"There was something else," she said. + +"What was it?" he questioned sharply. "What did they say?" + +But she would not satisfy him--perhaps could not. + +"I should think you'd be ashamed, to make your aunt so much trouble. +They said you were suspended--or--_expelled_!" + +He shrugged his big shoulders and threw away the handful of broken +twigs. + +"That's true enough--I might as well admit that." + +"Oh, _Morton_!--I didn't believe it. _Expelled!_" + +"Yes, expelled--turned down--thrown out--fired! And I'm glad of it." He +leaned back against the fence and whistled very softly through his +teeth. + +"Sh! Sh!" she urged. "Please!" + +He was quiet. + +"But Morton--what are you going to do?--Won't it spoil your career?" + +"No, my dear little girl, it will not!" said he. "On the contrary, it +will be the making of me. I tell you, Vivian, I'm sick to death of this +town of maiden ladies--and 'good family men.' I'm sick of being fussed +over for ever and ever, and having wristers and mufflers knitted for +me--and being told to put on my rubbers! There's no fun in this old +clamshell--this kitchen-midden of a town--and I'm going to quit it." + +He stood up and stretched his long arms. "I'm going to quit it for +good and all." + +The girl sat still, her hands gripping the seat on either side. + +"Where are you going?" she asked in a low voice. + +"I'm going west--clear out west. I've been talking with Aunt Rella +about it. Dr. Bellair'll help me to a job, she thinks. She's awful cut +up, of course. I'm sorry she feels bad--but she needn't, I tell her. I +shall do better there than I ever should have here. I know a fellow +that left college--his father failed--and he went into business and +made two thousand dollars in a year. I always wanted to take up +business--you know that!" + +She knew it--he had talked of it freely before they had argued and +persuaded him into the college life. She knew, too, how his aunt's hopes +all centered in him, and in his academic honors and future professional +life. "Business," to his aunt's mind, was a necessary evil, which could +at best be undertaken only after a "liberal education." + +"When are you going," she asked at length. + +"Right off--to-morrow." + +She gave a little gasp. + +"That's what I was whippoorwilling about--I knew I'd get no other +chance to talk to you--I wanted to say good-by, you know." + +The girl sat silent, struggling not to cry. He dropped beside her, +stole an arm about her waist, and felt her tremble. + +"Now, Viva, don't you go and cry! I'm sorry--I really am sorry--to +make _you_ feel bad." + +This was too much for her, and she sobbed frankly. + +"Oh, Morton! How could you! How could you!--And now you've got to go +away!" + +"There now--don't cry--sh!--they'll hear you." + +She did hush at that. + +"And don't feel so bad--I'll come back some time--to see you." + +"No, you won't!" she answered with sudden fierceness. "You'll just +go--and stay--and I never shall see you again!" + +He drew her closer to him. "And do you care--so much--Viva?" + +"Of course, I care!" she said, "Haven't we always been friends, the +best of friends?" + +"Yes--you and Aunt Rella have been about all I had," he admitted with +a cheerful laugh. "I hope I'll make more friends out yonder. But +Viva,"--his hand pressed closer--"is it only--friends?" + +She took fright at once and drew away from him. "You mustn't do that, +Morton!" + +"Do what?" A shaft of moonlight shone on his teasing face. "What am I +doing?" he said. + +It is difficult--it is well nigh impossible--for a girl to put a name +to certain small cuddlings not in themselves terrifying, nor even +unpleasant, but which she obscurely feels to be wrong. + +Viva flushed and was silent--he could see the rich color flood her face. + +"Come now--don't be hard on a fellow!" he urged. "I shan't see you again +in ever so long. You'll forget all about me before a year's over." + +She shook her head, still silent. + +"Won't you speak to me--Viva?" + +"I wish----" She could not find the words she wanted. "Oh, I wish +you--wouldn't!" + +"Wouldn't what, Girlie? Wouldn't go away? Sorry to disoblige--but I +have to. There's no place for me here." + +The girl felt the sad truth of that. + +"Aunt Rella will get used to it after a while. I'll write to her--I'll +make lots of money--and come back in a few years--astonish you +all!--Meanwhile--kiss me good-by, Viva!" + +She drew back shyly. She had never kissed him. She had never in her +life kissed any man younger than an uncle. + +"No, Morton--you mustn't----" She shrank away into the shadow. + +But, there was no great distance to shrink to, and his strong arms +soon drew her close again. + +"Suppose you never see me again," he said. "Then you'll wish you +hadn't been so stiff about it." + +She thought of this dread possibility with a sudden chill of horror, +and while she hesitated, he took her face between his hands and kissed +her on the mouth. + +Steps were heard coming down the path. + +"They're on," he said with a little laugh. "Good-by, Viva!" + +He vaulted the fence and was gone. + +"What are you doing here, Vivian?" demanded her father. + +"I was saying good-by to Morton," she answered with a sob. + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself--philandering out here in the +middle of the night with that scapegrace! Come in the house and go to +bed at once--it's ten o'clock." + +Bowing to this confused but almost equally incriminating chronology, +she followed him in, meekly enough as to her outward seeming, but +inwardly in a state of stormy tumult. + +She had been kissed! + +Her father's stiff back before her could not blot out the radiant, +melting moonlight, the rich sweetness of the flowers, the tender, +soft, June night. + +"You go to bed," said he once more. "I'm ashamed of you." + +"Yes, father," she answered. + +Her little room, when at last she was safely in it and had shut the +door and put a chair against it--she had no key--seemed somehow changed. + +She lit the lamp and stood looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes +were star-bright. Her cheeks flamed softly. Her mouth looked guilty +and yet glad. + +She put the light out and went to the window, kneeling there, leaning +out in the fragrant stillness, trying to arrange in her mind this +mixture of grief, disapproval, shame and triumph. + +When the Episcopal church clock struck eleven, she went to bed in +guilty haste, but not to sleep. + +For a long time she lay there watching the changing play of moonlight +on the floor. + +She felt almost as if she were married. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +BAINVILLE EFFECTS. + + Lockstep, handcuffs, ankle-ball-and-chain, + Dulltoil and dreary food and drink; + Small cell, cold cell, narrow bed and hard; + High wall, thick wall, window iron-barred; + Stone-paved, stone-pent little prison yard-- + Young hearts weary of monotony and pain, + Young hearts weary of reiterant refrain: + "They say--they do--what will people think?" + + +At the two front windows of their rather crowded little parlor sat +Miss Rebecca and Miss Josie Foote, Miss Sallie being out on a foraging +expedition--marketing, as it were, among their neighbors to collect +fresh food for thought. + +A tall, slender girl in brown passed on the opposite walk. + +"I should think Vivian Lane would get tired of wearing brown," said +Miss Rebecca. + +"I don't know why she should," her sister promptly protested, "it's a +good enough wearing color, and becoming to her." + +"She could afford to have more variety," said Miss Rebecca. "The Lanes +are mean enough about some things, but I know they'd like to have her +dress better. She'll never get married in the world." + +"I don't know why not. She's only twenty-five--and good-looking." + +"Good-looking! That's not everything. Plenty of girls marry that are +not good-looking--and plenty of good-looking girls stay single." + +"Plenty of homely ones, too. Rebecca," said Miss Josie, with meaning. +Miss Rebecca certainly was not handsome. "Going to the library, of +course!" she pursued presently. "That girl reads all the time." + +"So does her grandmother. I see her going and coming from that library +every day almost." + +"Oh, well--she reads stories and things like that. Sallie goes pretty +often and she notices. We use that library enough, goodness knows, but +they are there every day. Vivian Lane reads the queerest +things--doctor's books and works on pedagoggy." + +"Godgy," said Miss Rebecca, "not goggy." And as her sister ignored +this correction, she continued: "They might as well have let her go to +college when she was so set on it." + +"College! I don't believe she'd have learned as much in any college, +from what I hear of 'em, as she has in all this time at home." The +Foote girls had never entertained a high opinion of extensive culture. + +"I don't see any use in a girl's studying so much," said Miss Rebecca +with decision. + +"Nor I," agreed Miss Josie. "Men don't like learned women." + +"They don't seem to always like those that aren't learned, either," +remarked Miss Rebecca with a pleasant sense of retribution for that +remark about "homely ones." + +The tall girl in brown had seen the two faces at the windows opposite, +and had held her shoulders a little straighter as she turned the corner. + +"Nine years this Summer since Morton Elder went West," murmured Miss +Josie, reminiscently. "I shouldn't wonder if Vivian had stayed single +on his account." + +"Nonsense!" her sister answered sharply. "She's not that kind. She's +not popular with men, that's all. She's too intellectual." + +"She ought to be in the library instead of Sue Elder," Miss Rebecca +suggested. "She's far more competent. Sue's a feather-headed little +thing." + +"She seems to give satisfaction so far. If the trustees are pleased +with her, there's no reason for you to complain that I see," said Miss +Rebecca with decision. + + * * * * * + +Vivian Lane waited at the library desk with an armful of books to take +home. She had her card, her mother's and her father's--all utilized. +Her grandmother kept her own card--and her own counsel. + +The pretty assistant librarian, withdrawing herself with some emphasis +from the unnecessary questions of a too gallant old gentleman, came to +attend her. + +"You _have_ got a load," she said, scribbling complex figures with one +end of her hammer-headed pencil, and stamping violet dates with the +other. She whisked out the pale blue slips from the lid pockets, +dropped them into their proper openings in the desk and inserted the +cards in their stead with delicate precision. + +"Can't you wait a bit and go home with me?" she asked. "I'll help you +carry them." + +"No, thanks. I'm not going right home." + +"You're going to see your Saint--I know!" said Miss Susie, tossing her +bright head. "I'm jealous, and you know it." + +"Don't be a goose, Susie! You know you're my very best friend, +but--she's different." + +"I should think she was different!" Susie sharply agreed. "And you've +been 'different' ever since she came." + +"I hope so," said Vivian gravely. "Mrs. St. Cloud brings out one's +very best and highest. I wish you liked her better, Susie." + +"I like you," Susie answered. "You bring out my 'best and highest'--if +I've got any. She don't. She's like a lovely, faint, bright--bubble! I +want to prick it!" + +Vivian smiled down upon her. + +"You bad little mouse!" she said. "Come, give me the books." + +"Leave them with me, and I'll bring them in the car." Susie looked +anxious to make amends for her bit of blasphemy. + +"All right, dear. Thank you. I'll be home by that time, probably." + + * * * * * + +In the street she stopped before a little shop where papers and +magazines were sold. + +"I believe Father'd like the new Centurion," she said to herself, and +got it for him, chatting a little with the one-armed man who kept the +place. She stopped again at a small florist's and bought a little bag +of bulbs. + +"Your mother's forgotten about those, I guess," said Mrs. Crothers, the +florist's wife, "but they'll do just as well now. Lucky you thought of +them before it got too late in the season. Bennie was awfully pleased +with that red and blue pencil you gave him, Miss Lane." + +Vivian walked on. A child ran out suddenly from a gate and seized upon +her. + +"Aren't you coming in to see me--ever?" she demanded. + +Vivian stooped and kissed her. + +"Yes, dear, but not to-night. How's that dear baby getting on?" + +"She's better," said the little girl. "Mother said thank you--lots of +times. Wait a minute--" + +The child fumbled in Vivian's coat pocket with a mischievous upward +glance, fished out a handful of peanuts, and ran up the path laughing +while the tall girl smiled down upon her lovingly. + +A long-legged boy was lounging along the wet sidewalk. Vivian caught +up with him and he joined her with eagerness. + +"Good evening, Miss Lane. Say--are you coming to the club to-morrow +night?" + +She smiled cordially. + +"Of course I am, Johnny. I wouldn't disappoint my boys for +anything--nor myself, either." + +They walked on together chatting until, at the minister's house, she +bade him a cheery "good-night." + +Mrs. St. Cloud was at the window pensively watching the western sky. +She saw the girl coming and let her in with a tender, radiant +smile--a lovely being in a most unlovely room. + +There was a chill refinement above subdued confusion in that +Cambridge-Bainville parlor, where the higher culture of the second +Mrs. Williams, superimposed upon the lower culture of the first, as +that upon the varying tastes of a combined ancestry, made the place +somehow suggestive of excavations at Abydos. + +It was much the kind of parlor Vivian had been accustomed to from +childhood, but Mrs. St. Cloud was of a type quite new to her. Clothed +in soft, clinging fabrics, always with a misty, veiled effect to them, +wearing pale amber, large, dull stones of uncertain shapes, and +slender chains that glittered here and there among her scarfs and +laces, sinking gracefully among deep cushions, even able to sink +gracefully into a common Bainville chair--this beautiful woman had +captured the girl's imagination from the first. + +Clearly known, she was a sister of Mrs. Williams, visiting +indefinitely. Vaguely--and very frequently--hinted, her husband had +"left her," and "she did not believe in divorce." Against her +background of dumb patience, he shone darkly forth as A Brute of +unknown cruelties. Nothing against him would she ever say, and every +young masculine heart yearned to make life brighter to the Ideal +Woman, so strangely neglected; also some older ones. Her Young Men's +Bible Class was the pride of Mr. Williams' heart and joy of such young +men as the town possessed; most of Bainville's boys had gone. + +"A wonderful uplifting influence," Mr. Williams called her, and +refused to say anything, even when directly approached, as to "the +facts" of her trouble. "It is an old story," he would say. "She bears +up wonderfully. She sacrifices her life rather than her principles." + +To Vivian, sitting now on a hassock at the lady's feet and looking up +at her with adoring eyes, she was indeed a star, a saint, a cloud of +mystery. + +She reached out a soft hand, white, slender, delicately kept, wearing +one thin gold ring, and stroked the girl's smooth hair. Vivian seized +the hand and kissed it, blushing as she did so. + +"You foolish child! Don't waste your young affection on an old lady +like me." + +"Old! You! You don't look as old as I do this minute!" said the girl +with hushed intensity. + +"Life wears on you, I'm afraid, my dear.... Do you ever hear from him?" + +To no one else, not even to Susie, could Vivian speak of what now +seemed the tragedy of her lost youth. + +"No," said she. "Never now. He did write once or twice--at first." + +"He writes to his aunt, of course?" + +"Yes," said Vivian. "But not often. And he never--says anything." + +"I understand. Poor child! You must be true, and wait." And the lady +turned the thin ring on her finger. Vivian watched her in a passion of +admiring tenderness. + +"Oh, you understand!" she exclaimed. "You understand!" + +"I understand, my dear," said Mrs. St. Cloud. + +When Vivian reached her own gate she leaned her arms upon it and +looked first one way and then the other, down the long, still street. +The country was in sight at both ends--the low, monotonous, wooded +hills that shut them in. It was all familiar, wearingly familiar. She +had known it continuously for such part of her lifetime as was +sensitive to landscape effects, and had at times a mad wish for an +earthquake to change the outlines a little. + +The infrequent trolley car passed just then and Sue Elder joined her, +to take the short cut home through the Lane's yard. + +"Here you are," she said cheerfully, "and here are the books." + +Vivian thanked her. + +"Oh, say--come in after supper, can't you? Aunt Rella's had another +letter from Mort." + +Vivian's sombre eyes lit up a little. + +"How's he getting on? In the same business he was last year?" she +asked with an elaborately cheerful air. Morton had seemed to change +occupations oftener than he wrote letters. + +"Yes, I believe so. I guess he's well. He never says much, you know. +I don't think it's good for him out there--good for any boy." And +Susie looked quite the older sister. + +"What are they to do? They can't stay here." + +"No, I suppose not--but we have to." + +"Dr. Bellair didn't," remarked Vivian. "I like her--tremendously, +don't you?" In truth, Dr. Bellair was already a close second to Mrs. +St. Cloud in the girl's hero-worshipping heart. + +"Oh, yes; she's splendid! Aunt Rella is so glad to have her with us. +They have great times recalling their school days together. Aunty used +to like her then, though she is five years older--but you'd never +dream it. And I think she's real handsome." + +"She's not beautiful," said Vivian, with decision, "but she's a lot +better. Sue Elder, I wish----" + +"Wish what?" asked her friend. + +Sue put the books on the gate-post, and the two girls, arm in arm, +walked slowly up and down. + +Susie was a round, palely rosy little person, with a delicate face and +soft, light hair waving fluffily about her small head. Vivian's hair was +twice the length, but so straight and fine that its mass had no effect. +She wore it in smooth plaits wound like a wreath from brow to nape. + +After an understanding silence and a walk past three gates and back +again, Vivian answered her. + +"I wish I were in your shoes," she said. + +"What do you mean--having the Doctor in the house?" + +"No--I'd like that too; but I mean work to do--your position." + +"Oh, the library! You needn't; it's horrid. I wish I were in your shoes, +and had a father and mother to take care of me. I can tell you, it's no +fun--having to be there just on time or get fined, and having to poke +away all day with those phooty old ladies and tiresome children." + +"But you're independent." + +"Oh, yes, I'm independent. I have to be. Aunt Rella _could_ take care +of me, I suppose, but of course I wouldn't let her. And I dare say +library work is better than school-teaching." + +"What'll we be doing when we're forty, I wonder?" said Vivian, after +another turn. + +"Forty! Why I expect to be a grandma by that time," said Sue. She was +but twenty-one, and forty looked a long way off to her. + +"A grandma! And knit?" suggested Vivian. + +"Oh, yes--baby jackets--and blankets--and socks--and little shawls. I +love to knit," said Sue, cheerfully. + +"But suppose you don't marry?" pursued her friend. + +"Oh, but I shall marry--you see if I don't. Marriage"--here she +carefully went inside the gate and latched it--"marriage is--a woman's +duty!" And she ran up the path laughing. + +Vivian laughed too, rather grimly, and slowly walked towards her own +door. + +The little sitting-room was hot, very hot; but Mr. Lane sat with his +carpet-slippered feet on its narrow hearth with a shawl around him. + +"Shut the door, Vivian!" he exclaimed irritably. "I'll never get over +this cold if such draughts are let in on me." + +"Why, it's not cold out, Father--and it's very close in here." + +Mrs. Lane looked up from her darning. "You think it's close because +you've come in from outdoors. Sit down--and don't fret your father; +I'm real worried about him." + +Mr. Lane coughed hollowly. He had become a little dry old man with +gray, glassy eyes, and had been having colds in this fashion ever +since Vivian could remember. + +"Dr. Bellair says that the out-door air is the best medicine for a +cold," remarked Vivian, as she took off her things. + +"Dr. Bellair has not been consulted in this case," her father returned +wheezingly. "I'm quite satisfied with my family physician. He's a man, +at any rate." + +"Save me from these women doctors!" exclaimed his wife. + +Vivian set her lips patiently. She had long since learned how widely she +differed from both father and mother, and preferred silence to dispute. + +Mr. Lane was a plain, ordinary person, who spent most of a moderately +useful life in the shoe business, from which he had of late withdrawn. +Both he and his wife "had property" to a certain extent; and now lived +peacefully on their income with neither fear nor hope, ambition nor +responsibility to trouble them. The one thing they were yet anxious +about was to see Vivian married, but this wish seemed to be no nearer +to fulfillment for the passing years. + +"I don't know what the women are thinking of, these days," went on the +old gentleman, putting another shovelful of coal on the fire with a +careful hand. "Doctors and lawyers and even ministers, some of 'em! +The Lord certainly set down a woman's duty pretty plain--she was to +cleave unto her husband!" + +"Some women have no husbands to cleave to, Father." + +"They'd have husbands fast enough if they'd behave themselves," he +answered. "No man's going to want to marry one of these +self-sufficient independent, professional women, of course." + +"I do hope, Viva," said her mother, "that you're not letting that Dr. +Bellair put foolish ideas into your head." + +"I want to do something to support myself--sometime, Mother. I can't +live on my parents forever." + +"You be patient, child. There's money enough for you to live on. It's +a woman's place to wait," put in Mr. Lane. + +"How long?" inquired Vivian. "I'm twenty-five. No man has asked me to +marry him yet. Some of the women in this town have waited +thirty--forty--fifty--sixty years. No one has asked them." + +"I was married at sixteen," suddenly remarked Vivian's grandmother. +"And my mother wasn't but fifteen. Huh!" A sudden little derisive +noise she made; such as used to be written "humph!" + +For the past five years, Mrs. Pettigrew had made her home with the +Lanes. Mrs. Lane herself was but a feeble replica of her energetic +parent. There was but seventeen years difference in their ages, and +comparative idleness with some ill-health on the part of the +daughter, had made the difference appear less. + +Mrs. Pettigrew had but a poor opinion of the present generation. In her +active youth she had reared a large family on a small income; in her +active middle-age, she had trotted about from daughter's house to son's +house, helping with the grandchildren. And now she still trotted about +in all weathers, visiting among the neighbors and vibrating as regularly +as a pendulum between her daughter's house and the public library. + +The books she brought home were mainly novels, and if she perused +anything else in the severe quiet of the reading-room, she did not talk +about it. Indeed, it was a striking characteristic of Mrs. Pettigrew +that she talked very little, though she listened to all that went on +with a bright and beady eye, as of a highly intelligent parrot. And now, +having dropped her single remark into the conversation, she shut her +lips tight as was her habit, and drew another ball of worsted from the +black bag that always hung at her elbow. + +She was making one of those perennial knitted garments, which, in her +young days, were called "Cardigan jackets," later "Jerseys," and now by +the offensive name of "sweater." These she constructed in great numbers, +and their probable expense was a source of discussion in the town. "How +do you find friends enough to give them to?" they asked her, and she +would smile enigmatically and reply, "Good presents make good friends." + +"If a woman minds her P's and Q's she can get a husband easy enough," +insisted the invalid. "Just shove that lamp nearer, Vivian, will you." + +Vivian moved the lamp. Her mother moved her chair to follow it and +dropped her darning egg, which the girl handed to her. + +"Supper's ready," announced a hard-featured middle-aged woman, opening +the dining-room door. + +At this moment the gate clicked, and a firm step was heard coming up +the path. + +"Gracious, that's the minister!" cried Mrs. Lane. "He said he'd be in +this afternoon if he got time. I thought likely 'twould be to supper." + +She received him cordially, and insisted on his staying, slipping out +presently to open a jar of quinces. + +The Reverend Otis Williams was by no means loathe to take occasional +meals with his parishioners. It was noted that, in making pastoral +calls, he began with the poorer members of his flock, and frequently +arrived about meal-time at the houses of those whose cooking he +approved. + +"It is always a treat to take supper here," he said. "Not feeling +well, Mr. Lane? I'm sorry to hear it. Ah! Mrs. Pettigrew! Is that +jacket for me, by any chance? A little sombre, isn't it? Good evening, +Vivian. You are looking well--as you always do." + +Vivian did not like him. He had married her mother, he had christened +her, she had "sat under" him for long, dull, uninterrupted years; yet +still she didn't like him. + +"A chilly evening, Mr. Lane," he pursued. + +"That's what I say," his host agreed. "Vivian says it isn't; I say it +is." + +"Disagreement in the family! This won't do, Vivian," said the minister +jocosely. "Duty to parents, you know! Duty to parents!" + +"Does duty to parents alter the temperature?" the girl asked, in a voice +of quiet sweetness, yet with a rebellious spark in her soft eyes. + +"Huh!" said her grandmother--and dropped her gray ball. Vivian picked +it up and the old lady surreptitiously patted her. + +"Pardon me," said the reverend gentleman to Mrs. Pettigrew, "did you +speak?" + +"No," said the old lady, "Seldom do." + +"Silence is golden, Mrs. Pettigrew. Silence is golden. Speech is +silver, but silence is golden. It is a rare gift." + +Mrs. Pettigrew set her lips so tightly that they quite disappeared, +leaving only a thin dented line in her smoothly pale face. She was +called by the neighbors "wonderfully well preserved," a phrase she +herself despised. Some visitor, new to the town, had the hardihood to +use it to her face once. "Huh!" was the response. "I'm just sixty. Henry +Haskins and George Baker and Stephen Doolittle are all older'n I +am--and still doing business, doing it better'n any of the young folks +as far as I can see. You don't compare them to canned pears, do you?" + +Mr. Williams knew her value in church work, and took no umbrage at her +somewhat inimical expression; particularly as just then Mrs. Lane +appeared and asked them to walk out to supper. + +Vivian sat among them, restrained and courteous, but inwardly at war +with her surroundings. Here was her mother, busy, responsible, serving +creamed codfish and hot biscuit; her father, eating wheezily, and +finding fault with the biscuit, also with the codfish; her +grandmother, bright-eyed, thin-lipped and silent. Vivian got on well +with her grandmother, though neither of them talked much. + +"My mother used to say that the perfect supper was cake, preserves, +hot bread, and a 'relish,'" said Mr. Williams genially. "You have the +perfect supper, Mrs. Lane." + +"I'm glad if you enjoy it, I'm sure," said that lady. "I'm fond of a +bit of salt myself." + +"And what are you reading now, Vivian," he asked paternally. + +"Ward," she answered, modestly and briefly. + +"Ward? Dr. Ward of the _Centurion_?" + +Vivian smiled her gentlest. + +"Oh, no," she replied; "Lester F. Ward, the Sociologist." + +"Poor stuff, I think!" said her father. "Girls have no business to +read such things." + +"I wish you'd speak to Vivian about it, Mr. Williams. She's got beyond +me," protested her mother. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "I'd like some more of that quince, Laura." + +"My dear young lady, you are not reading books of which your parents +disapprove, I hope?" urged the minister. + +"Shouldn't I--ever?" asked the girl, in her soft, disarming manner. +"I'm surely old enough!" + +"The duty of a daughter is not measured by years," he replied +sonorously. "Does parental duty cease? Are you not yet a child in your +father's house?" + +"Is a daughter always a child if she lives at home?" inquired the +girl, as one seeking instruction. + +He set down his cup and wiped his lips, flushing somewhat. + +"The duty of a daughter begins at the age when she can understand the +distinction between right and wrong," he said, "and continues as long +as she is blessed with parents." + +"And what is it?" she asked, large-eyed, attentive. + +"What is it?" he repeated, looking at her in some surprise. "It is +submission, obedience--obedience." + +"I see. So Mother ought to obey Grandmother," she pursued +meditatively, and Mrs. Pettigrew nearly choked in her tea. + +Vivian was boiling with rebellion. To sit there and be lectured at the +table, to have her father complain of her, her mother invite pastoral +interference, the minister preach like that. She slapped her +grandmother's shoulder, readjusted the little knit shawl on the +straight back--and refrained from further speech. + +When Mrs. Pettigrew could talk, she demanded suddenly of the +minister, "Have you read Campbell's New Theology?" and from that on +they were all occupied in listening to Mr. Williams' strong, clear and +extensive views on the subject--which lasted into the parlor again. + +Vivian sat for awhile in the chair nearest the window, where some thin +thread of air might possibly leak in, and watched the minister with a +curious expression. All her life he had been held up to her as a +person to honor, as a man of irreproachable character, great learning +and wisdom. Of late she found with a sense of surprise that she did +not honor him at all. He seemed to her suddenly like a relic of past +ages, a piece of an old parchment--or papyrus. In the light of the +studies she had been pursuing in the well-stored town library, the +teachings of this worthy old gentleman appeared a jumble of age-old +traditions, superimposed one upon another. + +"He's a palimpsest," she said to herself, "and a poor palimpsest at +that." + +She sat with her shapely hands quiet in her lap while her +grandmother's shining needles twinkled in the dark wool, and her +mother's slim crochet hook ran along the widening spaces of some thin, +white, fuzzy thing. The rich powers of her young womanhood longed for +occupation, but she could never hypnotize herself with "fancywork." +Her work must be worth while. She felt the crushing cramp and +loneliness of a young mind, really stronger than those about her, yet +held in dumb subjection. She could not solace herself by loving them; +her father would have none of it, and her mother had small use for +what she called "sentiment." All her life Vivian had longed for more +loving, both to give and take; but no one ever imagined it of her, she +was so quiet and repressed in manner. The local opinion was that if a +woman had a head, she could not have a heart; and as to having a +body--it was indelicate to consider such a thing. + +"I mean to have six children," Vivian had planned when she was younger. +"And they shall never be hungry for more loving." She meant to make up +to her vaguely imagined future family for all that her own youth missed. + +Even Grandma, though far more sympathetic in temperament, was not +given to demonstration, and Vivian solaced her big, tender heart by +cuddling all the babies she could reach, and petting cats and dogs +when no children were to be found. + +Presently she arose and bade a courteous goodnight to the still prolix +parson. + +"I'm going over to Sue's," she said, and went out. + + * * * * * + +There was a moon again--a low, large moon, hazily brilliant. The air +was sweet with the odors of scarce-gone Summer, of coming Autumn. + +The girl stood still, half-way down the path, and looked steadily into +that silver radiance. Moonlight always filled her heart with a vague +excitement, a feeling that something ought to happen--soon. + +This flat, narrow life, so long, so endlessly long--would nothing ever +end it? Nine years since Morton went away! Nine years since the +strange, invading thrill of her first kiss! Back of that was only +childhood; these years really constituted Life; and Life, in the +girl's eyes, was a dreary treadmill. + +She was externally quiet, and by conscience dutiful; so dutiful, so +quiet, so without powers of expression, that the ache of an +unsatisfied heart, the stir of young ambitions, were wholly +unsuspected by those about her. A studious, earnest, thoughtful +girl--but study alone does not supply life's needs, nor does such +friendship as her life afforded. + +Susie was "a dear"--Susie was Morton's sister, and she was very fond +of her. But that bright-haired child did not understand--could not +understand--all that she needed. + +Then came Mrs. St. Cloud into her life, stirring the depths of romance, +of the buried past, and of the unborn future. From her she learned to +face a life of utter renunciation, to be true, true to her ideals, true +to her principles, true to the past, to be patient; and to wait. + +So strengthened, she had turned a deaf ear to such possible voice of +admiration as might have come from the scant membership of the Young +Men's Bible Class, leaving them the more devoted to Scripture study. +There was no thin ring to turn upon her finger; but, for lack of +better token, she had saved the rose she wore upon her breast that +night, keeping it hidden among her precious things. + +And then, into the gray, flat current of her daily life, sharply +across the trend of Mrs. St. Cloud's soft influence, had come a new +force--Dr. Bellair. + +Vivian liked her, yet felt afraid, a slight, shivering hesitancy as +before a too cold bath, a subtle sense that this breezy woman, strong, +cheerful, full of new ideas, if not ideals, and radiating actual +power, power used and enjoyed, might in some way change the movement +of her life. + +Change she desired, she longed for, but dreaded the unknown. + +Slowly she followed the long garden path, paused lingeringly by that +rough garden seat, went through and closed the gate. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE OUTBREAK + + There comes a time + After white months of ice-- + Slow months of ice--long months of ice-- + There comes a time when the still floods below + Rise, lift, and overflow-- + Fast, far they go. + + +Miss Orella sat in her low armless rocker, lifting perplexed, patient +eyes to look up at Dr. Bellair. + +Dr. Bellair stood squarely before her, stood easily, on broad-soled, +low-heeled shoes, and looked down at Miss Orella; her eyes were +earnest, compelling, full of hope and cheer. + +"You are as pretty as a girl, Orella," she observed irrelevantly. + +Miss Orella blushed. She was not used to compliments, even from a +woman, and did not know how to take them. + +"How you talk!" she murmured shyly. + +"I mean to talk," continued the doctor, "until you listen to reason." + +Reason in this case, to Dr. Bellair's mind, lay in her advice to Miss +Elder to come West with her--to live. + +"I don't see how I can. It's--it's such a Complete Change." + +Miss Orella spoke as if Change were equivalent to Sin, or at least to +Danger. + +"Do you good. As a physician, I can prescribe nothing better. You need +a complete change if anybody ever did." + +"Why, Jane! I am quite well." + +"I didn't say you were sick. But you are in an advanced stage of +_arthritis deformans_ of the soul. The whole town's got it!" + +The doctor tramped up and down the little room, freeing her mind. + +"I never saw such bed-ridden intellects in my life! I suppose it was +so when I was a child--and I was too young to notice it. But surely +it's worse now. The world goes faster and faster every day, the people +who keep still get farther behind! I'm fond of you, Rella. You've got +an intellect, and a conscience, and a will--a will like iron. But you +spend most of your strength in keeping yourself down. Now, do wake up +and use it to break loose! You don't have to stay here. Come out to +Colorado with me--and Grow." + +Miss Elder moved uneasily in her chair. She laid her small embroidery +hoop on the table, and straightened out the loose threads of silk, the +doctor watching her impatiently. + +"I'm too old," she said at length. + +Jane Bellair laughed aloud, shortly. + +"Old!" she cried. "You're five years younger than I am. You're only +thirty-six! Old! Why, child, your life's before you--to make." + +"You don't realize, Jane. You struck out for yourself so young--and +you've grown up out there--it seems to be so different--there." + +"It is. People aren't afraid to move. What have you got here you so +hate to leave, Rella?" + +"Why, it's--Home." + +"Yes. It's home--now. Are you happy in it?" + +"I'm--contented." + +"Don't you deceive yourself, Rella. You are not contented--not by a +long chalk. You are doing your duty as you see it; and you've kept +yourself down so long you've almost lost the power of motion. I'm +trying to galvanize you awake--and I mean to do it." + +"You might as well sit down while you're doing it, anyway," Miss Elder +suggested meekly. + +Dr. Bellair sat down, selecting a formidable fiddle-backed chair, the +unflinching determination of its widely-placed feet being repeated by +her own square toes. She placed herself in front of her friend and +leaned forward, elbows on knees, her strong, intelligent hands clasped +loosely. + +"What have you got to look forward to, Rella?" + +"I want to see Susie happily married--" + +"I said _you_--not Susie." + +"Oh--me? Why, I hope some day Morton will come back----" + +"I said _you_--not Morton." + +"Why I--you know I have friends, Jane--and neighbors. And some day, +perhaps--I mean to go abroad." + +"Are you scolding Aunt Rella again, Dr. Bellair. I won't stand it." +Pretty Susie stood in the door smiling. + +"Come and help me then," the doctor said, "and it won't sound so much +like scolding." + +"I want Mort's letter--to show to Viva," the girl answered, and +slipped out with it. + +She sat with Vivian on the stiff little sofa in the back room; the +arms of the two girls were around one another, and they read the +letter together. More than six months had passed since his last one. + +It was not much of a letter. Vivian took it in her own hands and went +through it again, carefully. The "Remember me to Viva--unless she's +married," at the end did not seem at all satisfying. Still it might +mean more than appeared--far more. Men were reticent and proud, she +had read. It was perfectly possible that he might be concealing deep +emotion under the open friendliness. He was in no condition to speak +freely, to come back and claim her. He did not wish her to feel bound +to him. She had discussed it with Mrs. St. Cloud, shrinkingly, +tenderly, led on by tactful, delicate, questions, by the longing of +her longing heart for expression and sympathy. + +"A man who cannot marry must speak of marriage--it is not honorable," +her friend had told her. + +"Couldn't he--write to me--as a friend?" + +And the low-voiced lady had explained with a little sigh that men +thought little of friendship with women. "I have tried, all my life, +to be a true and helpful friend to men, to such men as seemed worthy, +and they so often--misunderstood." + +The girl, sympathetic and admiring, thought hotly of how other people +misunderstood this noble, lovely soul; how they even hinted that she +"tried to attract men," a deadly charge in Bainville. + +"No," Mrs. St. Cloud had told her, "he might love you better than all +the world--yet not write to you--till he was ready to say 'come.' And, +of course, he wouldn't say anything in his letters to his aunt." + +So Vivian sat there, silent, weaving frail dreams out of "remember me +to Viva--unless she's married." That last clause might mean much. + +Dr. Bellair's voice sounded clear and insistent in the next room. + +"She's trying to persuade Aunt Rella to go West!" said Susie. +"Wouldn't it be funny if she did!" + +In Susie's eyes her Aunt's age was as the age of mountains, and also +her fixity. Since she could remember, Aunt Rella, always palely pretty +and neat, like the delicate, faintly-colored Spring flowers of New +England, had presided over the small white house, the small green +garden and the large black and white school-room. In her vacation she +sewed, keeping that quiet wardrobe of hers in exquisite order--and +also making Susie's pretty dresses. To think of Aunt Orella actually +"breaking up housekeeping," giving up her school, leaving Bainville, +was like a vision of trees walking. + +To Dr. Jane Bellair, forty-one, vigorous, successful, full of new +plans and purposes, Miss Elder's life appeared as an arrested +girlhood, stagnating unnecessarily in this quiet town, while all the +world was open to her. + +"I couldn't think of leaving Susie!" protested Miss Orella. + +"Bring her along," said the doctor. "Best thing in the world for her!" + +She rose and came to the door. The two girls make a pretty picture. +Vivian's oval face, with its smooth Madonna curves under the +encircling wreath of soft, dark plaits, and the long grace of her +figure, delicately built, yet strong, beside the pink, plump little +Susie, roguish and pretty, with the look that made everyone want to +take care of her. + +"Come in here, girls," said the doctor. "I want you to help me. You're +young enough to be movable, I hope." + +They cheerfully joined the controversy, but Miss Orella found small +support in them. + +"Why don't you do it, Auntie!" Susie thought it an excellent joke. "I +suppose you could teach school in Denver as well as here. And you +could Vote! Oh, Auntie--to think of your Voting!" + +Miss Elder, too modestly feminine, too inherently conservative even +to be an outspoken "Anti," fairly blushed at the idea. + +"She's hesitating on your account," Dr. Bellair explained to the girl. +"Wants to see you safely married! I tell her you'll have a thousandfold +better opportunities in Colorado than you ever will here." + +Vivian was grieved. She had heard enough of this getting married, and +had expected Dr. Bellair to hold a different position. + +"Surely, that's not the only thing to do," she protested. + +"No, but it's a very important thing to do--and to do right. It's a +woman's duty." + +Vivian groaned in spirit. That again! + +The doctor watched her understandingly. + +"If women only did their duty in that line there wouldn't be so much +unhappiness in the world," she said. "All you New England girls sit +here and cut one another's throats. You can't possible marry, your +boys go West, you overcrowd the labor market, lower wages, steadily +drive the weakest sisters down till they--drop." + +They heard the back door latch lift and close again, a quick, decided +step--and Mrs. Pettigrew joined them. + +Miss Elder greeted her cordially, and the old lady seated herself in +the halo of the big lamp, as one well accustomed to the chair. + +"Go right on," she said--and knitted briskly. + +"Do take my side, Mrs. Pettigrew," Miss Orella implored her. "Jane +Bellair is trying to pull me up by the roots and transplant me to +Colorado." + +"And she says I shall have a better chance to marry out there--and +ought to do it!" said Susie, very solemnly. "And Vivian objects to +being shown the path of duty." + +Vivian smiled. Her quiet, rather sad face lit with sudden sparkling +beauty when she smiled. + +"Grandma knows I hate that--point of view," she said. "I think men and +women ought to be friends, and not always be thinking about--that." + +"I have some real good friends--boys, I mean," Susie agreed, looking +so serious in her platonic boast that even Vivian was a little +amused, and Dr. Bellair laughed outright. + +"You won't have a 'friend' in that sense till you're fifty, Miss +Susan--if you ever do. There can be, there are, real friendships between +men and women, but most of that talk is--talk, sometimes worse. + +"I knew a woman once, ever so long ago," the doctor continued +musingly, clasping her hands behind her head, "a long way from +here--in a college town--who talked about 'friends.' She was married. +She was a 'good' woman--perfectly 'good' woman. Her husband was not a +very good man, I've heard, and strangely impatient of her virtues. She +had a string of boys--college boys--always at her heels. Quite too +young and too charming she was for this friendship game. She said that +such a friendship was 'an ennobling influence' for the boys. She +called them her 'acolytes.' Lots of them were fairly mad about +her--one young chap was so desperate over it that he shot himself." + +There was a pained silence. + +"I don't see what this has to do with going to Colorado," said Mrs. +Pettigrew, looking from one to the other with a keen, observing eye. +"What's your plan, Dr. Bellair?" + +"Why, I'm trying to persuade my old friend here to leave this place, +change her occupation, come out to Colorado with me, and grow up. +She's a case of arrested development." + +"She wants me to keep boarders!" Miss Elder plaintively protested to +Mrs. Pettigrew. + +That lady was not impressed. + +"It's quite a different matter out there, Mrs. Pettigrew," the doctor +explained. "'Keeping boarders' in this country goes to the tune of +'Come Ye Disconsolate!' It's a doubtful refuge for women who are +widows or would be better off if they were. Where I live it's a sure +thing if well managed--it's a good business." + +Mrs. Pettigrew wore an unconvinced aspect. + +"What do you call 'a good business?'" she asked. + +"The house I have in mind cleared a thousand a year when it was in +right hands. That's not bad, over and above one's board and lodging. +That house is in the market now. I've just had a letter from a friend +about it. Orella could go out with me, and step right into Mrs. +Annerly's shoes--she's just giving up." + +"What'd she give up for?" Mrs. Pettigrew inquired suspiciously. + +"Oh--she got married; they all do. There are three men to one woman in +that town, you see." + +"I didn't know there was such a place in the world--unless it was a +man-of-war," remarked Susie, looking much interested. + +Dr. Bellair went on more quietly. + +"It's not even a risk, Mrs. Pettigrew. Rella has a cousin who would +gladly run this house for her. She's admitted that much. So there's no +loss here, and she's got her home to come back to. I can write to Dick +Hale to nail the proposition at once. She can go when I go, in about a +fortnight, and I'll guarantee the first year definitely." + +"I wouldn't think of letting you do that, Jane! And if it's as good as +you say, there's no need. But a fortnight! To leave home--in a +fortnight!" + +"What are the difficulties?" the old lady inquired. "There are always +some difficulties." + +"You are right, there," agreed the doctor. "The difficulties in this +place are servants. But just now there's a special chance in that line. +Dick says the best cook in town is going begging. I'll read you his +letter." + +She produced it, promptly, from the breast pocket of her neat coat. +Dr. Bellair wore rather short, tailored skirts of first-class +material; natty, starched blouses--silk ones for "dress," and +perfectly fitting light coats. Their color and texture might vary with +the season, but their pockets, never. + +"'My dear Jane' (This is my best friend out there--a doctor, too. We +were in the same class, both college and medical school. We +fight--he's a misogynist of the worst type--but we're good friends all +the same.) 'Why don't you come back? My boys are lonesome without you, +and I am overworked--you left so many mishandled invalids for me to +struggle with. Your boarding house is going to the dogs. Mrs. Annerly +got worse and worse, failed completely and has cleared out, with a +species of husband, I believe. The owner has put in a sort of +caretaker, and the roomers get board outside--it's better than what +they were having. Moreover, the best cook in town is hunting a job. +Wire me and I'll nail her. You know the place pays well. Now, why +don't you give up your unnatural attempt to be a doctor and assume +woman's proper sphere? Come back and keep house!' + +"He's a great tease, but he tells the truth. The house is there, +crying to be kept. The boarders are there--unfed. Now, Orella Elder, +why don't you wake up and seize the opportunity?" + +Miss Orella was thinking. + +"Where's that last letter of Morton's?" + +Susie looked for it. Vivian handed it to her, and Miss Elder read it +once more. + +"There's plenty of homeless boys out there besides yours, Orella," the +doctor assured her. "Come on--and bring both these girls with you. +It's a chance for any girl, Miss Lane." + +But her friend did not hear her. She found what she was looking for in +the letter and read it aloud. "I'm on the road again now, likely to be +doing Colorado most of the year if things go right. It's a fine +country." + +Susie hopped up with a little cry. + +"Just the thing, Aunt Rella! Let's go out and surprise Mort. He thinks +we are just built into the ground here. Won't it be fun, Viva?" + +Vivian had risen from her seat and stood at the window, gazing out with +unseeing eyes at the shadowy little front yard. Morton might be there. +She might see him. But--was it womanly to go there--for that? There were +other reasons, surely. She had longed for freedom, for a chance to grow, +to do something in life--something great and beautiful! Perhaps this was +the opening of the gate, the opportunity of a lifetime. + +"You folks are so strong on duty," the doctor was saying, "Why can't you +see a real duty in this? I tell you, the place is full of men that need +mothering, and sistering--good honest sweethearting and marrying, too. +Come on, Rella. Do bigger work than you've ever done yet--and, as I +said, bring both these nice girls with you. What do you say, Miss Lane?" + +Vivian turned to her, her fine face flushed with hope, yet with a +small Greek fret on the broad forehead. + +"I'd like to, very much, Dr. Bellair--on some accounts. But----" She +could not quite voice her dim objections, her obscure withdrawals; and +so fell back on the excuse of childhood--"I'm sure Mother wouldn't let +me." + +Dr. Bellair smiled broadly. + +"Aren't you over twenty-one?" she asked. + +"I'm twenty-five," the girl replied, with proud acceptance of a life +long done--as one who owned to ninety-seven. + +"And self-supporting?" pursued the doctor. + +Vivian flushed. + +"No--not yet," she answered; "but I mean to be." + +"Exactly! Now's your chance. Break away now, my dear, and come West. You +can get work--start a kindergarten, or something. I know you love +children." + +The girl's heart rose within her in a great throb of hope. + +"Oh--if I _could_!" she exclaimed, and even as she said it, rose +half-conscious memories of the low, sweet tones of Mrs. St. Cloud. "It +is a woman's place to wait--and to endure." + +She heard a step on the walk outside--looked out. + +"Why, here is Mrs. St. Cloud!" she cried. + +"Guess I'll clear out," said the doctor, as Susie ran to the door. She +was shy, socially. + +"Nonsense, Jane," said her hostess, whispering. "Mrs. St. Cloud is no +stranger. She's Mrs. Williams' sister--been here for years." + +She came in at the word, her head and shoulders wreathed in a pearl +gray shining veil, her soft long robe held up. + +"I saw your light, Miss Elder, and thought I'd stop in for a moment. +Good evening, Mrs. Pettigrew--and Miss Susie. Ah! Vivian!" + +"This is my friend, Dr. Bellair--Mrs. St. Cloud," Miss Elder was +saying. But Dr. Bellair bowed a little stiffly, not coming forward. + +"I've met Mrs. St. Cloud before, I think--when she was 'Mrs. James.'" + +The lady's face grew sad. + +"Ah, you knew my first husband! I lost him--many years ago--typhoid +fever." + +"I think I heard," said the doctor. And then, feeling that some +expression of sympathy was called for, she added, "Too bad." + +Not all Miss Elder's gentle hospitality, Mrs. Pettigrew's bright-eyed +interest, Susie's efforts at polite attention, and Vivian's visible +sympathy could compensate Mrs. St. Cloud for one inimical presence. + +"You must have been a mere girl in those days," she said sweetly. +"What a lovely little town it was--under the big trees." + +"It certainly was," the doctor answered dryly. + +"There is such a fine atmosphere in a college town, I think," pursued +the lady. "Especially in a co-educational town--don't you think so?" + +Vivian was a little surprised. She had had an idea that her admired +friend did not approve of co-education. She must have been mistaken. + +"Such a world of old memories as you call up, Dr. Bellair," their +visitor pursued. "Those quiet, fruitful days! You remember Dr. Black's +lectures? Of course you do, better than I. What a fine man he was! And +the beautiful music club we had one Winter--and my little private +dancing class--do you remember that? Such nice boys, Miss Elder! I +used to call them my acolytes." + +Susie gave a little gulp, and coughed to cover it. + +"I guess you'll have to excuse me, ladies," said Dr. Bellair. +"Good-night." And she walked upstairs. + +Vivian's face flushed and paled and flushed again. A cold pain was +trying to enter her heart, and she was trying to keep it out. Her +grandmother glanced sharply from one face to the other. + +"Glad to've met you, Mrs. St. Cloud," she said, bobbing up with +decision. "Good-night, Rella--and Susie. Come on child. It's a wonder +your mother hasn't sent after us." + +For once Vivian was glad to go. + +"That's a good scheme of Jane Bellair's, don't you think so?" asked +the old lady as they shut the gate behind them. + +"I--why yes--I don't see why not." + +Vivian was still dizzy with the blow to her heart's idol. All the +soft, still dream-world she had so labored to keep pure and beautiful +seemed to shake and waver swimmingly. She could not return to it. The +flat white face of her home loomed before her, square, hard, hideously +unsympathetic-- + +"Grandma," said she, stopping that lady suddenly and laying a pleading +hand on her arm, "Grandma, I believe I'll go." + +Mrs. Pettigrew nodded decisively. + +"I thought you would," she said. + +"Do you blame me, Grandma?" + +"Not a mite, child. Not a mite. But I'd sleep on it, if I were you." + +And Vivian slept on it--so far as she slept at all. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TRANSPLANTED + + Sometimes a plant in its own habitat + Is overcrowded, starved, oppressed and daunted; + A palely feeble thing; yet rises quickly, + Growing in height and vigor, blooming thickly, + When far transplanted. + + +The days between Vivian's decision and her departure were harder than +she had foreseen. It took some courage to make the choice. Had she +been alone, independent, quite free to change, the move would have +been difficult enough; but to make her plan and hold to it in the face +of a disapproving town, and the definite opposition of her parents, +was a heavy undertaking. + +By habit she would have turned to Mrs. St. Cloud for advice; but +between her and that lady now rose the vague image of a young boy, +dead,--she could never feel the same to her again. + +Dr. Bellair proved a tower of strength. "My dear girl," she would say to +her, patiently, but with repressed intensity, "do remember that you are +_not_ a child! You are twenty-five years old. You are a grown woman, and +have as much right to decide for yourself as a grown man. This isn't +wicked--it is a wise move; a practical one. Do you want to grow up like +the rest of the useless single women in this little social cemetery?" + +Her mother took it very hard. "I don't see how you can think of +leaving us. We're getting old now--and here's Grandma to take care +of----" + +"Huh!" said that lady, with such marked emphasis that Mrs. Lane +hastily changed the phrase to "I mean to _be with_--you do like to +have Vivian with you, you can't deny that, Mother." + +"But Mama," said the girl, "you are not old; you are only forty-three. +I am sorry to leave you--I am really; but it isn't forever! I can come +back. And you don't really need me. Sarah runs the house exactly as +you like; you don't depend on me for a thing, and never did. As to +Grandma!"--and she looked affectionately at the old lady--"she don't +need me nor anybody else. She's independent if ever anybody was. She +won't miss me a mite--will you Grandma?" Mrs. Pettigrew looked at her +for a moment, the corners of her mouth tucked in tightly. "No," she +said, "I shan't miss you a mite!" + +Vivian was a little grieved at the prompt acquiescence. She felt +nearer to her grandmother in many ways than to either parent. "Well, +I'll miss you!" said she, going to her and kissing her smooth pale +cheek, "I'll miss you awfully!" + +Mr. Lane expressed his disapproval most thoroughly, and more than +once; then retired into gloomy silence, alternated with violent +dissuasion; but since a woman of twenty-five is certainly free to +choose her way of life, and there was no real objection to this +change, except that it _was_ a change, and therefore dreaded, his +opposition, though unpleasant, was not prohibitive. Vivian's +independent fortune of $87.50, the savings of many years, made the +step possible, even without his assistance. + +There were two weeks of exceeding disagreeableness in the household, +but Vivian kept her temper and her determination under a rain of tears, +a hail of criticism, and heavy wind of argument and exhortation. All her +friends and neighbors, and many who were neither, joined in the effort +to dissuade her; but she stood firm as the martyrs of old. + +Heredity plays strange tricks with us. Somewhere under the girl's dumb +gentleness and patience lay a store of quiet strength from some +Pilgrim Father or Mother. Never before had she set her will against +her parents; conscience had always told her to submit. Now conscience +told her to rebel, and she did. She made her personal arrangements, +said goodbye to her friends, declined to discuss with anyone, was +sweet and quiet and kind at home, and finally appeared at the +appointed hour on the platform of the little station. + +Numbers of curious neighbors were there to see them off, all who knew +them and could spare the time seemed to be on hand. Vivian's mother +came, but her father did not. + +At the last moment, just as the train drew in, Grandma appeared, +serene and brisk, descending, with an impressive amount of hand +baggage, from "the hack." + +"Goodbye, Laura," she said. "I think these girls need a chaperon. I'm +going too." + +So blasting was the astonishment caused by this proclamation, and so +short a time remained to express it, that they presently found +themselves gliding off in the big Pullman, all staring at one another +in silent amazement. + +"I hate discussion," said Mrs. Pettigrew. + + * * * * * + +None of these ladies were used to traveling, save Dr. Bellair, who had +made the cross continent trip often enough to think nothing of it. + +The unaccustomed travelers found much excitement in the journey. As +women, embarking on a new, and, in the eyes of their friends, highly +doubtful enterprise, they had emotion to spare; and to be confronted +at the outset by a totally unexpected grandmother was too much for +immediate comprehension. + +She looked from one to the other, sparkling, triumphant. + +"I made up my mind, same as you did, hearing Jane Bellair talk," she +explained. "Sounded like good sense. I always wanted to travel, always, +and never had the opportunity. This was a real good chance." Her mouth +shut, tightened, widened, drew into a crinkly delighted smile. + +They sat still staring at her. + +"You needn't look at me like that! I guess it's a free country! I +bought my ticket--sent for it same as you did. And I didn't have to +ask _anybody_--I'm no daughter. My duty, as far as I know it, is +_done_! This is a pleasure trip!" + +She was triumph incarnate. + +"And you never said a word!" This from Vivian. + +"Not a word. Saved lots of trouble. Take care of me indeed! Laura +needn't think I'm dependent on her _yet_!" + +Vivian's heart rather yearned over her mother, thus doubly bereft. + +"The truth is," her grandmother went on, "Samuel wants to go to +Florida the worst way; I heard 'em talking about it! He wasn't willing +to go alone--not he! Wants somebody to hear him cough, I say! And +Laura couldn't go--'Mother was so dependent'--_Huh!_" + +Vivian began to smile. She knew this had been talked over, and given +up on that account. She herself could have been easily disposed of, +but Mrs. Lane chose to think her mother a lifelong charge. + +"Act as if I was ninety!" the old lady burst forth again. "I'll show +'em!" + +"I think you're dead right, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Dr. Bellair. "Sixty +isn't anything. You ought to have twenty years of enjoyable life yet, +before they call you 'old'--maybe more." + +Mrs. Pettigrew cocked an eye at her. "My grandmother lived to be a +hundred and four," said she, "and kept on working up to the last year. +I don't know about enjoyin' life, but she was useful for pretty near a +solid century. After she broke her hip the last time she sat still and +sewed and knitted. After her eyes gave out she took to hooking rugs." + +"I hope it will be forty years, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Sue, "and I'm +real glad you're coming. It'll make it more like home." + +Miss Elder was a little slow in accommodating herself to this new +accession. She liked Mrs. Pettigrew very much--but--a grandmother thus +airily at large seemed to unsettle the foundations of things. She was +polite, even cordial, but evidently found it difficult to accept the +facts. + +"Besides," said Mrs. Pettigrew, "you may not get all those boarders at +once and I'll be one to count on. I stopped at the bank this morning +and had 'em arrange for my account out in Carston. They were some +surprised, but there was no time to ask questions!" She relapsed into +silence and gazed with keen interest at the whirling landscape. + +Throughout the journey she proved the best of travelers; was never +car-sick, slept well in the joggling berth, enjoyed the food, and +continually astonished them by producing from her handbag the most +diverse and unlooked for conveniences. An old-fashioned traveller had +forgotten her watchkey--Grandma produced an automatic one warranted to +fit anything. "Takes up mighty little room--and I thought maybe it +would come in handy," she said. + +She had a small bottle of liquid court-plaster, and plenty of the +solid kind. She had a delectable lotion for the hands, a real treasure +on the dusty journey; also a tiny corkscrew, a strong pair of +"pinchers," sewing materials, playing cards, string, safety-pins, +elastic bands, lime drops, stamped envelopes, smelling salts, troches, +needles and thread. + +"Did you bring a trunk, Grandma?" asked Vivian. + +"Two," said Grandma, "excess baggage. All paid for and checked." + +"How did you ever learn to arrange things so well?" Sue asked +admiringly. + +"Read about it," the old lady answered. "There's no end of directions +nowadays. I've been studying up." + +She was so gleeful and triumphant, so variously useful, so steadily +gay and stimulating, that they all grew to value her presence long +before they reached Carston; but they had no conception of the +ultimate effect of a resident grandmother in that new and bustling +town. + +To Vivian the journey was a daily and nightly revelation. She had read +much but traveled very little, never at night. The spreading beauty of +the land was to her a new stimulus; she watched by the hour the +endless panorama fly past her window, its countless shades of green, +the brown and red soil, the fleeting dashes of color where wild +flowers gathered thickly. She was repeatedly impressed by seeing +suddenly beside her the name of some town which had only existed in +her mind as "capital city" associated with "principal exports" and +"bounded on the north." + +At night, sleeping little, she would raise her curtain and look out, +sideways, at the stars. Big shadowy trees ran by, steep cuttings rose +like a wall of darkness, and the hilly curves of open country rose and +fell against the sky line like a shaken carpet. + +She faced the long, bright vistas of the car and studied people's +faces--such different people from any she had seen before. A heavy +young man with small, light eyes, sat near by, and cast frequent +glances at both the girls, going by their seat at intervals. Vivian +considered this distinctly rude, and Sue did not like his looks, so he +got nothing for his pains, yet even this added color to the day. + +The strange, new sense of freedom grew in her heart, a feeling of +lightness and hope and unfolding purpose. + +There was continued discussion as to what the girls should do. + +"We can be waitresses for Auntie till we get something else," Sue +practically insisted. "The doctor says it will be hard to get good +service and I'm sure the boarders would like us." + +"You can both find work if you want it. What do you want to do, +Vivian?" asked Dr. Bellair, not for the first time. + +Vivian was still uncertain. + +"I love children best," she said. "I could teach--but I haven't a +certificate. I'd _love_ a kindergarten; I've studied that--at home." + +"Shouldn't wonder if you could get up a kindergarten right off," the +doctor assured her. "Meantime, as this kitten says, you could help +Miss Elder out and turn an honest penny while you're waiting." + +"Wouldn't it--interfere with my teaching later?" the girl inquired. + +"Not a bit, not a bit. We're not so foolish out here. We'll fix you up +all right in no time." + +It was morning when they arrived at last and came out of the cindery, +noisy crowded cars into the wide, clean, brilliant stillness of the +high plateau. They drew deep breaths; the doctor squared her shoulders +with a glad, homecoming smile. Vivian lifted her head and faced the +new surroundings as an unknown world. Grandma gazed all ways, still +cheerful, and their baggage accrued about them as a rampart. + +A big bearded man, carelessly dressed, whirled up in a dusty runabout, +and stepped out smiling. He seized Dr. Bellair by both hands, and +shook them warmly. + +"Thought I'd catch you, Johnny," he said. "Glad to see you back. If +you've got the landlady, I've got the cook!" + +"Here we are," said she. "Miss Orella Elder--Dr. Hale; Mrs. +Pettigrew, Miss Susie Elder, Miss Lane--Dr. Richard Hale." + +He bowed deeply to Mrs. Pettigrew, shook hands with Miss Orella, and +addressed himself to her, giving only a cold nod to the two girls, and +quite turning away from them. + +Susie, in quiet aside to Vivian, made unfavorable comment. + +"This is your Western chivalry, is it?" she said. "Even Bainville does +better than that." + +"I don't know why we should mind," Vivian answered. "It's Dr. +Bellair's friend; he don't care anything about us." + +But she was rather of Sue's opinion. + +The big man took Dr. Bellair in his car, and they followed in a +station carriage, eagerly observing their new surroundings, and +surprised, as most Easterners are, by the broad beauty of the streets +and the modern conveniences everywhere--electric cars, electric +lights, telephones, soda fountains, where they had rather expected to +find tents and wigwams. + +The house, when they were all safely within it, turned out to be "just +like a real house," as Sue said; and proved even more attractive than +the doctor had described it. It was a big, rambling thing, at home +they would have called it a hotel, with its neat little sign, "The +Cottonwoods," and Vivian finally concluded that it looked like a +seaside boarding house, built for the purpose. + +A broad piazza ran all across the front, the door opening into a big +square hall, a sort of general sitting-room; on either side were four +good rooms, opening on a transverse passage. The long dining-room and +kitchen were in the rear of the hall. + +Dr. Bellair had two, her office fronting on the side street, with a +bedroom behind it. They gave Mrs. Pettigrew the front corner room on +that side and kept the one opening from the hall as their own parlor. +In the opposite wing was Miss Elder's room next the hall, and the +girls in the outer back corner, while the two front ones on that side +were kept for the most impressive and high-priced boarders. + +Mrs. Pettigrew regarded her apartments with suspicion as being too +"easy." + +"I don't mind stairs," she said. "Dr. Bellair has to be next her +office--but why do I have to be next Dr. Bellair?" + +It was represented to her that she would be nearer to everything that +went on and she agreed without more words. + +Dr. Hale exhibited the house as if he owned it. + +"The agent's out of town," he said, "and we don't need him anyway. He +said he'd do anything you wanted, in reason." + +Dr. Bellair watched with keen interest the effect of her somewhat daring +description, as Miss Orella stepped from room to room examining +everything with a careful eye, with an expression of growing +generalship. Sue fluttered about delightedly, discovering advantages +everywhere and making occasional disrespectful remarks to Vivian about +Dr. Hale's clothes. + +"Looks as if he never saw a clothes brush!" she said. "A finger out on +his glove, a button off his coat. No need to tell us there's no woman +in his house!" + +"You can decide about your cook when you've tried her," he said to +Miss Elder. "I engaged her for a week--on trial. She's in the kitchen +now, and will have your dinner ready presently. I think you'll like +her, if----" + +"Good boy!" said Dr. Bellair. "Sometimes you show as much sense as a +woman--almost." + +"What's the 'if'" asked Miss Orella, looking worried. + +"Question of character," he answered. "She's about forty-five, with a +boy of sixteen or so. He's not over bright, but a willing worker. +She's a good woman--from one standpoint. She won't leave that boy nor +give him up to strangers; but she has a past!" + +"What is her present?" Dr. Bellair asked, "that's the main thing." + +Dr. Hale clapped her approvingly on the shoulder, but looked +doubtingly toward Miss Orella. + +"And what's her future if somebody don't help her?" Vivian urged. + +"Can she cook?" asked Grandma. + +"Is she a safe person to have in the house?" inquired Dr. Bellair +meaningly. + +"She can cook," he replied. "She's French, or of French parentage. She +used to keep a little--place of entertainment. The food was excellent. +She's been a patient of mine--off and on--for five years--and I should +call her perfectly safe." + +Miss Orella still looked worried. "I'd like to help her and the boy, but +would it--look well? I don't want to be mean about it, but this is a +very serious venture with us, Dr. Hale, and I have these girls with me." + +"With you and Dr. Bellair and Mrs. Pettigrew the young ladies will be +quite safe, Miss Elder. As to the woman's present character, she has +suffered two changes of heart, she's become a religious devotee--and a +man-hater! And from a business point of view, I assure you that if +Jeanne Jeaune is in your kitchen you'll never have a room empty." + +"Johnny Jones! queer name for a woman!" said Grandma. They repeated it +to her carefully, but she only changed to "Jennie June," and adhered +to one or the other, thereafter. "What's the boy's name?" she asked +further. + +"Theophile," Dr. Hale replied. + +"Huh!" said she. + +"Why don't she keep an eating-house still?" asked Dr. Bellair rather +suspiciously. + +"That's what I like best about her," he answered. "She is trying to +break altogether with her past. She wants to give up 'public +life'--and private life won't have her." + +They decided to try the experiment, and found it worked well. + +There were two bedrooms over the kitchen where "Mrs. Jones" as Grandma +generally called her, and her boy, could be quite comfortable and by +themselves; and although of a somewhat sour and unsociable aspect, and +fiercely watchful lest anyone offend her son, this questionable +character proved an unquestionable advantage. With the boy's help, she +cooked for the houseful, which grew to be a family of twenty-five. He +also wiped dishes, helped in the laundry work, cleaned and scrubbed +and carried coal; and Miss Elder, seeing his steady usefulness, +insisted on paying wages for him too. This unlooked for praise and +gain won the mother's heart, and as she grew more at home with them, +and he less timid, she encouraged him to do the heavier cleaning in +the rest of the house. + +"Huh!" said Grandma. "I wish more sane and moral persons would work +like that!" + +Vivian watched with amazement the swift filling of the house. + +There was no trouble at all about boarders, except in discriminating +among them. "Make them pay in advance, Rella," Dr. Bellair advised, "it +doesn't cost them any more, and it is a great convenience. 'References +exchanged,' of course. There are a good many here that I know--you can +always count on Mr. Dykeman and Fordham Grier, and John Unwin." + +Before a month was over the place was full to its limits with what Sue +called "assorted boarders," the work ran smoothly and the business end +of Miss Elder's venture seemed quite safe. They had the twenty Dr. +Bellair prophesied, and except for her, Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss Peeder, a +teacher of dancing and music; Mrs. Jocelyn, who was interested in +mining, and Sarah Hart, who described herself as a "journalist," all +were men. + +Fifteen men to eight women. Miss Elder sat at the head of her table, +looked down it and across the other one, and marvelled continuously. +Never in her New England life had she been with so many men--except in +church--and they were more scattered. This houseful of heavy feet and +broad shoulders, these deep voices and loud laughs, the atmosphere of +interchanging jests and tobacco smoke, was new to her. She hated the +tobacco smoke, but that could not be helped. They did not smoke in her +parlor, but the house was full of it none the less, in which constant +presence she began to reverse the Irishman's well known judgment of +whiskey, allowing that while all tobacco was bad, some tobacco was +much worse than others. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CONTRASTS + + Old England thinks our country + Is a wilderness at best-- + And small New England thinks the same + Of the large free-minded West. + + Some people know the good old way + Is the only way to do, + And find there must be something wrong + In anything that's new. + + +To Vivian the new life offered a stimulus, a sense of stir and promise +even beyond her expectations. She wrote dutiful letters to her mother, +trying to describe the difference between this mountain town and +Bainville, but found the New England viewpoint an insurmountable +obstacle. + +To Bainville "Out West" was a large blank space on the map, and the +blank space in the mind which matched it was but sparsely dotted with +a few disconnected ideas such as "cowboy," "blizzard," "prairie +fire," "tornado," "border ruffian," and the like. + +The girl's painstaking description of the spreading, vigorous young +town, with its fine, modern buildings, its banks and stores and +theatres, its country club and parks, its pleasant social life, made +small impression on the Bainville mind. But the fact that Miss Elder's +venture was successful from the first did impress old acquaintances, +and Mrs. Lane read aloud to selected visitors her daughter's accounts +of their new and agreeable friends. Nothing was said of "chaps," +"sombreros," or "shooting up the town," however, and therein a +distinct sense of loss was felt. + +Much of what was passing in Vivian's mind she could not make clear to +her mother had she wished to. The daily presence and very friendly +advances of so many men, mostly young and all polite (with the +exception of Dr. Hale, whose indifference was almost rude by +contrast), gave a new life and color to the days. + +She could not help giving some thought to this varied assortment, and +the carefully preserved image of Morton, already nine years dim, waxed +dimmer. But she had a vague consciousness of being untrue to her ideals, +or to Mrs. St. Cloud's ideals, now somewhat discredited, and did not +readily give herself up to the cheerful attractiveness of the position. + +Susie found no such difficulty. Her ideals were simple, and while +quite within the bounds of decorum, left her plenty of room for +amusement. So popular did she become, so constantly in demand for +rides and walks and oft-recurring dances, that Vivian felt called upon +to give elder sisterly advice. + +But Miss Susan scouted her admonitions. + +"Why shouldn't I have a good time?" she said. "Think how we grew up! +Half a dozen boys to twenty girls, and when there was anything to go +to--the lordly way they'd pick and choose! And after all our efforts +and machinations most of us had to dance with each other. And the +quarrels we had! Here they stand around three deep asking for +dances--and _they_ have to dance with each other, and _they_ do the +quarreling. I've heard 'em." And Sue giggled delightedly. + +"There's no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves, Susie, of course, but +aren't you--rather hard on them?" + +"Oh, nonsense!" Sue protested. "Dr. Bellair said I should get married +out here! She says the same old thing--that it's 'a woman's duty,' and +I propose to do it. That is--they'll propose, and I won't do it! Not +till I make up my mind. Now see how you like this!" + +She had taken a fine large block of "legal cap" and set down their +fifteen men thereon, with casual comment. + +1. Mr. Unwin--Too old, big, quiet. + +2. Mr. Elmer Skee--Big, too old, funny. + +3. Jimmy Saunders--Middle-sized, amusing, nice. + +4. P. R. Gibbs--Too little, too thin, too cocky. + +5. George Waterson--Middling, pretty nice. + +6. J. J. Cuthbert--Big, horrid. + +7. Fordham Greer--Big, pleasant. + +8. W. S. Horton--Nothing much. + +9. A. L. Dykeman--Interesting, too old. + +10. Professor Toomey--Little, horrid. + +11. Arthur Fitzwilliam--Ridiculous, too young. + +12. Howard Winchester--Too nice, distrust him. + +13. Lawson W. Briggs--Nothing much. + +14. Edward S. Jenks--Fair to middling. + +15. Mr. A. Smith--Minus. + +She held it up in triumph. "I got 'em all out of the book--quite +correct. Now, which'll you have." + +"Susie Elder! You little goose! Do you imagine that all these fifteen +men are going to propose to you?" + +"I'm sure I hope so!" said the cheerful damsel. "We've only been +settled a fortnight and one of 'em has already!" + +Vivian was impressed at once. "Which?--You don't mean it!" + +Sue pointed to the one marked "minus." + +"It was only 'A. Smith.' I never should be willing to belong to 'A. +Smith,' it's too indefinite--unless it was a last resort. Several more +are--well, extremely friendly! Now don't look so severe. You needn't +worry about me. I'm not quite so foolish as I talk, you know." + +She was not. Her words were light and saucy, but she was as demure and +decorous a little New Englander as need be desired; and she could not +help it if the hearts of the unattached young men of whom the town was +full, warmed towards her. + +Dr. Bellair astonished them at lunch one day in their first week. + +"Dick Hale wants us all to come over to tea this afternoon," she said, +as if it was the most natural thing in the world. + +"Tea? Where?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew sharply. + +"At his house. He has 'a home of his own,' you know. And he +particularly wants you, Mrs. Pettigrew--and Miss Elder--the girls, of +course." + +"I'm sure I don't care to go," Vivian remarked with serene +indifference, but Susie did. + +"Oh, come on, Vivian! It'll be so funny! A man's home!--and we may +never get another chance. He's such a bear!" + +Dr. Hale's big house was only across the road from theirs, standing in +a large lot with bushes and trees about it. + +"He's been here nine years," Dr. Bellair told them. "That's an old +inhabitant for us. He boarded in that house for a while; then it was for +sale and he bought it. He built that little office of his at the +corner--says he doesn't like to live where he works, or work where he +lives. He took his meals over here for a while--and then set up for +himself." + +"I should think he'd be lonely," Miss Elder suggested. + +"Oh, he has his boys, you know--always three or four young fellows +about him. It's a mighty good thing for them, too." + +Dr. Hale's home proved a genuine surprise. They had regarded it as a +big, neglected-looking place, and found on entering the gate that the +inside view of that rampant shrubbery was extremely pleasant. Though +not close cut and swept of leaves and twigs, it still was beautiful; +and the tennis court and tether-ball ring showed the ground well used. + +Grandma looked about her with a keen interrogative eye, and was much +impressed, as, indeed, were they all. She voiced their feelings +justly when, the true inwardness of this pleasant home bursting fully +upon them, she exclaimed: + +"Well, of all things! A man keeping house!" + +"Why not?" asked Dr. Hale with his dry smile. "Is there any +deficiency, mental or physical, about a man, to prevent his attempting +this abstruse art?" + +She looked at him sharply. "I don't know about deficiency, but there +seems to be somethin' about 'em that keeps 'em out of the business. I +guess it's because women are so cheap." + +"No doubt you are right, Mrs. Pettigrew. And here women are scarce and +high. Hence my poor efforts." + +His poor efforts had bought or built a roomy pleasant house, and +furnished it with a solid comfort and calm attractiveness that was +most satisfying. Two Chinamen did the work; cooking, cleaning, +washing, waiting on table, with silent efficiency. "They are as steady +as eight-day clocks," said Dr. Hale. "I pay them good wages and they +are worth it." + +"Sun here had to go home once--to be married, also, to see his honored +parents, I believe, and to leave a grand-'Sun' to attend to the +ancestors; but he brought in another Chink first and trained him so +well that I hardly noticed the difference. Came back in a year or so, +and resumed his place without a jar." + +Miss Elder watched with fascinated eyes these soft-footed servants +with clean, white garments and shiny coils of long, braided hair. + +"I may have to come to it," she admitted, "but--dear me, it doesn't +seem natural to have a man doing housework!" + +Dr. Hale smiled again. "You don't want men to escape from dependence, I +see. Perhaps, if more men knew how comfortably they could live without +women, the world would be happier." There was a faint wire-edge to his +tone, in spite of the courteous expression, but Miss Elder did not +notice it and if Mrs. Pettigrew did, she made no comment. + +They noted the varied excellences of his housekeeping with high +approval. + +"You certainly know how, Dr. Hale," said Miss Orella; "I particularly +admire these beds--with the sheets buttoned down, German fashion, +isn't it? What made you do that?" + +"I've slept so much in hotels," he answered; "and found the sheets +always inadequate to cover the blankets--and the marks of other men's +whiskers! I don't like blankets in my neck. Besides it saves washing." + +Mrs. Pettigrew nodded vehemently. "You have sense," she said. + +The labor-saving devices were a real surprise to them. A "chute" for +soiled clothing shot from the bathroom on each floor to the laundry in +the basement; a dumbwaiter of construction large and strong enough to +carry trunks, went from cellar to roof; the fireplaces dropped their +ashes down mysterious inner holes; and for the big one in the +living-room a special "lift" raised a box of wood up to the floor +level, hidden by one of the "settles." + +"Saves work--saves dirt--saves expense," said Dr. Hale. + +Miss Hale and her niece secretly thought the rooms rather bare, but +Dr. Bellair was highly in favor of that very feature. + +"You see Dick don't believe in jimcracks and dirt-catchers, and he +likes sunlight. Books all under glass--no curtains to wash and darn +and fuss with--none of those fancy pincushions and embroidered +thingummies--I quite envy him." + +"Why don't you have one yourself, Johnny?" he asked her. + +"Because I don't like housekeeping," she said, "and you do. Masculine +instinct, I suppose!" + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew with her sudden one-syllable chuckle. + +The girls followed from room to room, scarce noticing these comments, or +the eager politeness of the four pleasant-faced young fellows who formed +the doctor's present family. She could not but note the intelligent +efficiency of the place, but felt more deeply the underlying spirit, the +big-brotherly kindness which prompted his hospitable care of these nice +boys. It was delightful to hear them praise him. + +"O, he's simply great," whispered Archie Burns, a ruddy-cheeked young +Scotchman. "He pretends there's nothing to it--that he wants +company--that we pay for all we get--and that sort of thing, you know; +but this is no boarding house, I can tell you!" And then he flushed till +his very hair grew redder--remembering that the guests came from one. + +"Of course not!" Vivian cordially agreed with him. "You must have +lovely times here. I don't wonder you appreciate it!" and she smiled +so sweetly that he felt at ease again. + +Beneath all this cheery good will and the gay chatter of the group her +quick sense caught an impression of something hidden and repressed. +She felt the large and quiet beauty of the rooms; the smooth comfort, +the rational, pleasant life; but still more she felt a deep keynote of +loneliness. + +The pictures told her most. She noted one after another with inward +comment. + +"There's 'Persepolis,'" she said to herself--"loneliness incarnate; +and that other lion-and-ruin thing,--loneliness and decay. Gerome's +'Lion in the Desert,' too, the same thing. Then Daniel--more lions, +more loneliness, but power. 'Circe and the Companions of +Ulysses'--cruel, but loneliness and power again--of a sort. There's +that 'Island of Death' too--a beautiful thing--but O dear!--And young +Burne-Jones' 'Vampire' was in one of the bedrooms--that one he shut +the door of!" + +While they ate and drank in the long, low-ceiled wide-windowed room +below, she sought the bookcases and looked them over curiously. +Yes--there was Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Plato, Emerson and +Carlisle--the great German philosophers, the French, the English--all +showing signs of use. + +Dr. Hale observed her inspection. It seemed to vaguely annoy him, as +if someone were asking too presuming questions. + +"Interested in philosophy, Miss Lane?" he asked, drily, coming toward +her. + +"Yes--so far as I understand it," she answered. + +"And how far does that go?" + +She felt the inference, and raised her soft eyes to his rather +reproachfully. + +"Not far, I am afraid. But I do know that these books teach one how to +bear trouble." + +He met her gaze steadily, but something seemed to shut, deep in his +eyes. They looked as unassailable as a steel safe. He straightened his +big shoulders with a defiant shrug, and returned to sit by Mrs. +Pettigrew, to whom he made himself most agreeable. + +The four young men did the honors of the tea table, with devotion to +all; and some especially intended for the younger ladies. Miss Elder +cried out in delight at the tea. + +"Where did you get it, Dr. Hale? Can it be had here?" + +"I'm afraid not. That is a particular brand. Sun brought me a chest of +it when he came from his visit." + +When they went home each lady was given a present, Chinese +fashion--lychee nuts for Sue, lily-bulbs for Vivian, a large fan for +Mrs. Pettigrew, and a package of the wonderful tea for Miss Orella. + +"That's a splendid thing for him to do," she said, as they walked +back. "Such a safe place for those boys!" + +"It's lovely of him," Sue agreed. "I don't care if he is a +woman-hater." + +Vivian said nothing, but admitted, on being questioned, that "he was +very interesting." + +Mrs. Pettigrew was delighted with their visit. "I like this country," +she declared. "Things are different. A man couldn't do that in +Bainville--he'd be talked out of town." + +That night she sought Dr. Bellair and questioned her. + +"Tell me about that man," she demanded. "How old is he?" + +"Not as old as he looks by ten years," said the doctor. "No, I can't +tell you why his hair's gray." + +"What woman upset him?" asked the old lady. + +Dr. Bellair regarded her thoughtfully. "He has made me no confidences, +Mrs. Pettigrew, but I think you are right. It must have been a severe +shock--for he is very bitter against women. It is a shame, too, for he +is one of the best of men. He prefers men patients--and gets them. The +women he will treat if he must, but he is kindest to the 'fallen' ones, +and inclined to sneer at the rest. And yet he's the straightest man I +ever knew. I'm thankful to have him come here so much. He needs it." + +Mrs. Pettigrew marched off, nodding sagely. She felt a large and growing +interest in her new surroundings, more especially in the numerous boys, +but was somewhat amazed at her popularity among them. These young men +were mainly exiles from home; the older ones, though more settled +perhaps, had been even longer away from their early surroundings; and a +real live Grandma, as Jimmy Saunders said, was an "attraction." + +"If you were mine," he told her laughingly, "I'd get a pianist and +some sort of little side show, and exhibit you all up and down the +mountains!--for good money. Why some of the boys never had a Grandma, +and those that did haven't seen one since they were kids!" + +"Very complimentary, I'm sure--but impracticable," said the old lady. + +The young men came to her with confidences, they asked her advice, +they kept her amused with tales of their adventures; some true, some +greatly diversified; and she listened with a shrewd little smile and a +wag of the head--so they never were quite sure whether they were +"fooling" Grandma or not. + +To her, as a general confidant, came Miss Peeder with a tale of woe. The +little hall that she rented for her dancing classes had burned down on a +windy Sunday, and there was no other suitable and within her means. + +"There's Sloan's; but it's over a barroom--it's really not possible. +And Baker's is too expensive. The church rooms they won't let for +dancing--I don't know what I _am_ to do, Mrs. Pettigrew!" + +"Why don't you ask Orella Elder to rent you her dining-room--it's big +enough. They could move the tables----" + +Miss Peeder's eyes opened in hopeful surprise. "Oh, if she _would_! Do +_you_ think she would? It would be ideal." + +Miss Elder being called upon, was quite fluttered by the proposition, +and consulted Dr. Bellair. + +"Why not?" said that lady. "Dancing is first rate exercise--good for +us all. Might as well have the girls dance here under your eye as +going out all the time--and it's some addition to the income. They'll +pay extra for refreshments, too. I'd do it." + +With considerable trepidation Miss Orella consented, and their first +"class night" was awaited by her in a state of suppressed excitement. + +To have music and dancing--"with refreshments"--twice a week--in her +own house--this seemed to her like a career of furious dissipation. + +Vivian, though with a subtle sense of withdrawal from a too general +intimacy, was inwardly rather pleased; and Susie bubbled over with +delight. + +"Oh what fun!" she cried. "I never had enough dancing! I don't believe +anybody has!" + +"We don't belong to the Class, you know," Vivian reminded her. + +"Oh yes! Miss Peeder says we must _all_ come--that she would feel _very_ +badly if we didn't; and the boarders have all joined--to a man!" + +Everyone seemed pleased except Mrs. Jeaune. Dancing she considered +immoral; music, almost as much so--and Miss Elder trembled lest she +lose her. But the offer of extra payments for herself and son on these +two nights each week proved sufficient to quell her scruples. + +Theophile doubled up the tables, set chairs around the walls, waxed the +floor, and was then sent to bed and locked in by his anxious mother. + +She labored, during the earlier hours of the evening, in the +preparation of sandwiches and coffee, cake and lemonade--which viands +were later shoved through the slide by the austere cook, and +distributed as from a counter by Miss Peeder's assistant. Mrs. Jeaune +would come no nearer, but peered darkly upon them through the +peep-hole in the swinging door. + +It was a very large room, due to the time when many "mealers" had been +accommodated. There were windows on each side, windows possessing the +unusual merit of opening from the top; wide double doors made the big +front hall a sort of anteroom, and the stairs and piazza furnished +opportunities for occasional couples who felt the wish for retirement. +In the right-angled passages, long hat-racks on either side were hung +with "Derbies," "Kossuths" and "Stetsons," and the ladies took off +their wraps, and added finishing touches to their toilettes in Miss +Elder's room. + +The house was full of stir and bustle, of pretty dresses, of giggles +and whispers, and the subdued exchange of comments among the +gentlemen. The men predominated, so that there was no lack of partners +for any of the ladies. + +Miss Orella accepted her new position with a half-terrified enjoyment. +Not in many years had she found herself so in demand. Her always neat +and appropriate costume had blossomed suddenly for the occasion; her +hair, arranged by the affectionate and admiring Susie, seemed softer +and more voluminous. Her eyes grew brilliant, and the delicate color +in her face warmed and deepened. + +Miss Peeder had installed a pianola to cover emergencies, but on this +opening evening she had both piano and violin--good, lively, +sole-stirring music. Everyone was on the floor, save a few gentlemen +who evidently wished they were. + +Sue danced with the gaiety and lightness of a kitten among wind-blown +leaves, Vivian with gliding grace, smooth and harmonious, Miss Orella +with skill and evident enjoyment, though still conscientious in every +accurate step. + +Presently Mrs. Pettigrew appeared, sedately glorious in black silk, +jet-beaded, and with much fine old lace. She bore in front of her a +small wicker rocking chair, and headed for a corner near the door. Her +burden was promptly taken from her by one of the latest comers, a tall +person with a most devoted manner. + +"Allow _me_, ma'am," he said, and placed the little chair at the point +she indicated. "No lady ought to rustle for rockin' chairs with so +many gentlemen present." + +He was a man of somewhat advanced age, but his hair was still more +black than white and had a curly, wiggish effect save as its +indigenous character was proven by three small bare patches of a +conspicuous nature. + +He bowed so low before her that she could not help observing these +distinctions, and then answered her startled look before she had time +to question him. + +"Yes'm," he explained, passing his hand over head; "scalped three +several times and left for dead. But I'm here yet. Mr. Elmer Skee, at +your service." + +"I thought when an Indian scalped you there wasn't enough hair left to +make Greeley whiskers," said Grandma, rising to the occasion. + +"Oh, no, ma'am, they ain't so efficacious as all that--not in these +parts. I don't know what the ancient Mohawks may have done, but the +Apaches only want a patch--smaller to carry and just as good to show +off. They're collectors, you know--like a phil-e-a-to-lol-o-gist!" + +"Skee, did you say?" pursued the old lady, regarding him with interest +and convinced that there was something wrong with the name of that +species of collector. + +"Yes'm. Skee--Elmer Skee. No'm, _not_ pronounced 'she.' Do I look like +it?" + +Mr. Skee was an interesting relic of that stormy past of the once Wild +West which has left so few surviving. He had crossed the plains as a +child, he told her, in the days of the prairie schooner, had then and +there lost his parents and his first bit of scalp, was picked up alive +by a party of "movers," and had grown up in a playground of sixteen +states and territories. + +Grandma gazed upon him fascinated. "I judge you might be interesting +to talk with," she said, after he had given her this brief sketch of +his youth. + +"Thank you, ma'am," said Mr. Skee. "May I have the pleasure of this +dance?" + +"I haven't danced in thirty years," said she, dubitating. + +"The more reason for doing it now," he calmly insisted. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and they forthwith executed a species +of march, the gentleman pacing with the elaborate grace of a circus +horse, and Grandma stepping at his side with great decorum. + +Later on, warming to the occasion, Mr. Skee frisked and high-stepped +with the youngest and gayest, and found the supper so wholly to his +liking that he promptly applied for a room, and as soon as one was +vacant it was given to him. + +Vivian danced to her heart's content and enjoyed the friendly +merriment about her; but when Fordham Greer took her out on the long +piazza to rest and breathe a little, she saw the dark bulk of the +house across the street and the office with its half-lit window, and +could not avoid thinking of the lonely man there. + +He had not come to the dance, no one expected that, of course; but all +his boys had come and were having the best of times. + +"It's his own fault, of course; but it's a shame," she thought. + +The music sounded gaily from within, and young Greer urged for another +dance. + +She stood there for a moment, hesitating, her hand on his arm, when a +tall figure came briskly up the street from the station, turned in at +their gate, came up the steps---- + +The girl gave a little cry, and shrank back for an instant, then +eagerly came forward and gave her hand to him. + +It was Morton. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +NEW FRIENDS AND OLD + + 'Twould be too bad to be true, my dear, + And wonders never cease; + Twould be too bad to be true, my dear, + If all one's swans were geese! + + +Vivian's startled cry of welcome was heard by Susie, perched on the +stairs with several eager youths gathered as close as might be about +her, and several pairs of hands helped her swift descent to greet her +brother. + +Miss Orella, dropping Mr. Dykeman's arm, came flying from the ball-room. + +"Oh, Morton! Morton! When did you come? Why didn't you let us know? +Oh, my _dear_ boy!" + +She haled him into their special parlor, took his hat away from him, +pulled out the most comfortable chair. + +"Have you had supper? And to think that we haven't a room for you! But +there's to be one vacant--next week. I'll see that there is. You +shall have my room, dear boy. Oh, I am so glad to see you!" + +Susie gave him a sisterly hug, while he kissed her, somewhat gingerly, +on the cheek, and then she perched herself on the arm of a chair and +gazed upon him with affectionate interest. Vivian gazed also, busily +engaged in fitting present facts to past memories. + +Surely he had not looked just like that! The Morton of her girlhood's +dream had a clear complexion, a bright eye, a brave and gallant +look--the voice only had not changed. + +But here was Morton in present fact, something taller, it seemed, and +a good deal heavier, well dressed in a rather vivid way, and making +merry over his aunt's devotion. + +"Well, if it doesn't seem like old times to have Aunt 'Rella running +'round like a hen with her head cut off, to wait on me." The simile +was not unjust, though certainly ungracious, but his aunt was far too +happy to resent it. + +"You sit right still!" she said. "I'll go and bring you some supper. +You must be hungry." + +"Now do sit down and hear to reason, Auntie!" he said, reaching out a +detaining hand and pulling her into a seat beside him. "I'm not hungry +a little bit; had a good feed on the diner. Never mind about the +room--I don't know how long I can stay--and I left my grip at the +Allen House anyway. How well you're looking, Auntie! I declare I'd +hardly have known you! And here's little Susie--a regular belle! And +Vivian--don't suppose I dare call you Vivian now, Miss Lane?" + +Vivian gave a little embarrassed laugh. If he had used her first name +she would never have noticed it. Now that he asked her, she hardly +knew what answer to make, but presently said: + +"Why, of course, I always call you Morton." + +"Well, I'll come when you call me," he cheerfully replied, leaning +forward, elbows on knees, and looking around the pretty room. + +"How well you're fixed here. Guess it was a wise move, Aunt 'Rella. +But I'd never have dreamed you'd do it. Your Dr. Bellair must have +been a powerful promoter to get you all out here. I wouldn't have +thought anybody in Bainville could move--but me. Why, there's Grandma, +as I live!" and he made a low bow. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, hearing of his arrival from the various would-be +partners of the two girls, had come to the door and stood there +regarding him with a non-committal expression. At this address she +frowned perceptibly. + +"My name is Mrs. Pettigrew, young man. I've known you since you were a +scallawag in short pants, but I'm no Grandma of yours." + +"A thousand pardons! Please excuse me, Mrs. Pettigrew," he said with +exaggerated politeness. "Won't you be seated?" And he set a chair for +her with a flourish. + +"Thanks, no," she said. "I'll go back," and went back forthwith, +attended by Mr. Skee. + +"One of these happy family reunions, ma'am?" he asked with approving +interest. "If there's one thing I do admire, it's a happy surprise." + +"'Tis some of a surprise," Mrs. Pettigrew admitted, and became rather +glum, in spite of Mr. Skee's undeniably entertaining conversation. + +"Some sort of a fandango going on?" Morton asked after a few rather +stiff moments. "Don't let me interrupt! On with the dance! Let joy be +unconfined! And if she must"--he looked at Vivian, and went on +somewhat lamely--"dance, why not dance with me? May I have the +pleasure, Miss Lane?" + +"Oh, no," cried Miss Orella, "we'd much rather be with you!" + +"But I'd rather dance than talk, any time," said he, and crooked his +elbow to Vivian with an impressive bow. + +Somewhat uncertain in her own mind, and unwilling to again disappoint +Fordham Greer, who had already lost one dance and was visibly waiting +for her in the hall, the girl hesitated; but Susie said, "Go on, give +him part of one. I'll tell Mr. Greer." So Vivian took Morton's +proffered arm and returned to the floor. + +She had never danced with him in the old days; no special memory was +here to contrast with the present; yet something seemed vaguely wrong. +He danced well, but more actively than she admired, and during the +rest of the evening devoted himself to the various ladies with an air +of long usage. + +She was glad when the dancing was over and he had finally departed for +his hotel, glad when Susie had at last ceased chattering and dropped +reluctantly to sleep. + +For a long time she lay awake trying to straighten out things in her +mind and account to herself for the sense of vague confusion which +oppressed her. + +Morton had come back! That was the prominent thing, of which she +repeatedly assured herself. How often she had looked forward to that +moment, and felt in anticipation a vivid joy. She had thought of it in +a hundred ways, always with pleasure, but never in this particular +way--among so many strangers. + +It must be that which confused her, she thought, for she was extremely +sensitive to the attitude of those about her. She felt an unspoken +criticism of Morton on the part of her new friends in the house, and +resented it; yet in her own mind a faint comparison would obtrude +itself between his manners and those of Jimmie Saunders or Mr. Greer, +for instance. The young Scotchman she had seen regarding Morton with +an undisguised dislike, and this she inwardly resented, even while +herself disliking his bearing to his aunt--and to her grandmother. + +It was all contradictory and unsatisfying, and she fell asleep saying +over to herself, "He has come back! He has come back!" and trying to +feel happy. + +Aunt Orella was happy at any rate. She would not rest until her +beloved nephew was installed in the house, practically turning out Mr. +Gibbs in order to accommodate him. Morton protested, talked of +business and of having to go away at any time; and Mr. Gibbs, who +still "mealed" with them, secretly wished he would. + +But Morton did not go away. It was a long time since he had been petted +and waited on, and he enjoyed it hugely, treating his aunt with a +serio-comic affection that was sometimes funny, sometimes disagreeable. + +At least Susie found it so. Her first surprise over, she fell back on +a fund of sound common sense, strengthened by present experience, and +found a good deal to criticise in her returned brother. She was so +young when he left, and he had teased her so unmercifully in those +days, that her early memories of him were rather mixed in sentiment, +and now he appeared, not as the unquestioned idol of a manless family +in a well-nigh manless town, but as one among many; and of those many +several were easily his superiors. + +He was her brother, and she loved him, of course; but there were so +many wanting to be "brothers" if not more, and they were so much more +polite! Morton petted, patronized and teased her, and she took it all +in good part, as after the manner of brothers, but his demeanor with +other people was not to her mind. + +His adoring aunt, finding no fault whatever with this well-loved nephew, +lavished upon him the affection of her unused motherhood, and he seemed +to find it a patent joke, open to everyone, that she should be so fond. + +To this and, indeed, to his general walk and conversation, Mrs. +Pettigrew took great exception. + +"Fine boy--Rella's nephew!" she said to Dr. Bellair late one night +when, seeing a light over her neighbor's transom, she dropped in for a +little chat. Conversation seemed easier for her here than in the +atmosphere of Bainville. + +"Fine boy--eh? Nice complexion!" + +Dr. Bellair was reading a heavy-weight book by a heavier-weight +specialist. She laid it down, took off her eyeglasses, and rubbed them. + +"Better not kiss him," she said. + +"I thought as much!" said Grandma. "I _thought_ as much! Huh!" + +"Nice world, isn't it?" the doctor suggested genially. + +"Nothing the matter with the world, that I know of," her visitor +answered. + +"Nice people, then--how's that?" + +"Nothing the matter with the people but foolishness--plain +foolishness. Good land! Shall we _never_ learn anything!" + +"Not till it's too late apparently," the doctor gloomily agreed, +turning slowly in her swivel chair. "That boy never was taught +anything to protect him. What did Rella know? Or for that matter, what +do any boys' fathers and mothers know? Nothing, you'd think. If they +do, they won't teach it to their children." + +"Time they did!" said the old lady decidedly. "High time they did! +It's never too late to learn. I've learned a lot out of you and your +books, Jane Bellair. Interesting reading! I don't suppose you could +give an absolute opinion now, could you?" + +"No," said Dr. Bellair gravely, "no, I couldn't; not yet, anyway." + +"Well, we've got to keep our eyes open," Mrs. Pettigrew concluded. +"When I think of that girl of mine----" + +"Yes--or any girl," the doctor added. + +"You look out for any girl--that's your business; I'll look out for +mine--if I can." + +Mrs. Pettigrew's were not the only eyes to scrutinize Morton Elder. +Through the peep-hole in the swing door to the kitchen, Jeanne Jeaune +watched him darkly with one hand on her lean chest. + +She kept her watch on whatever went on in that dining-room, and on the +two elderly waitresses whom she had helped Miss Elder to secure when +the house filled up. They were rather painfully unattractive, but +seemed likely to stay where no young and pretty damsel could be +counted on for a year. Morton joked with perseverance about their +looks, and those who were most devoted to Susie seemed to admire his +wit, while Vivian's special admirers found it pointless in the +extreme. + +"Your waitresses are the limit, Auntie," he said, "but the cook is all +to the good. Is she a plain cook or a handsome one?" + +"Handsome is as handsome does, young man," Mrs. Pettigrew pointedly +replied. "Mrs. Jones is a first-class cook and her looks are neither +here nor there." + +"You fill me with curiosity," he replied. "I must go out and make her +acquaintance. I always get solid with the cook; it's worth while." + +The face at the peep-hole darkened and turned away with a bitter and +determined look, and Master Theophile was hastened at his work till his +dim intelligence wondered, and then blessed with an unexpected cookie. + +Vivian, Morton watched and followed assiduously. She was much changed +from what he remembered--the young, frightened, slender girl he had +kissed under the lilac bushes, a kiss long since forgotten among many. + +Perhaps the very number of his subsequent acquaintances during a +varied and not markedly successful career in the newer states made +this type of New England womanhood more marked. Girls he had known of +various sorts, women old and young had been kind to him, for Morton +had the rough good looks and fluent manner which easily find their way +to the good will of many female hearts; but this gentle refinement of +manner and delicate beauty had a novel charm for him. + +Sitting by his aunt at meals he studied Vivian opposite, he watched +her in their few quiet evenings together, under the soft lamplight on +Miss Elder's beloved "center table;" and studied her continually in +the stimulating presence of many equally devoted men. + +All that was best in him was stirred by her quiet grace, her reserved +friendliness; and the spur of rivalry was by no means wanting. Both +the girls had their full share of masculine attention in that busy +houseful, each having her own particular devotees, and the position of +comforter to the others. + +Morton became openly devoted to Vivian, and followed her about, seeking +every occasion to be alone with her, a thing difficult to accomplish. + +"I don't ever get a chance to see anything of you," he said. "Come on, +take a walk with me--won't you?" + +"You can see me all day, practically," she answered. "It seems to me +that I never saw a man with so little to do." + +"Now that's too bad, Vivian! Just because a fellow's out of a job for +a while! It isn't the first time, either; in my business you work +like--like anything, part of the time, and then get laid off. I work +hard enough when I'm at it." + +"Do you like it--that kind of work?" the girl asked. + +They were sitting in the family parlor, but the big hall was as usual +well occupied, and some one or more of the boarders always eager to come +in. Miss Elder at this moment had departed for special conference with +her cook, and Susie was at the theatre with Jimmie Saunders. Fordham +Greer had asked Vivian, as had Morton also, but she declined both on the +ground that she didn't like that kind of play. Mrs. Pettigrew, being +joked too persistently about her fondness for "long whist," had retired +to her room--but then, her room was divided from the parlor only by a +thin partition and a door with a most inefficacious latch. + +"Come over here by the fire," said Morton, "and I'll tell you all +about it." + +He seated himself on a sofa, comfortably adjacent to the fireplace, +but Vivian preferred a low rocker. + +"I suppose you mean travelling--and selling goods?" he pursued. "Yes, +I like it. There's lots of change--and you meet people. I'd hate to be +shut up in an office." + +"But do you--get anywhere with it? Is there any outlook for you? +Anything worth doing?" + +"There's a good bit of money to be made, if you mean that; that is, if +a fellow's a good salesman. I'm no slouch myself, when I feel in the +mood. But it's easy come, easy go, you see. And it's uncertain. There +are times like this, with nothing doing." + +"I didn't mean money, altogether," said the girl meditatively, "but +the work itself; I don't see any future for you." + +Morton was pleased with her interest. Reaching between his knees he +seized the edge of the small sofa and dragged it a little nearer, +quite unconscious that the act was distasteful to her. + +Though twenty-five years old, Vivian was extremely young in many ways, +and her introspection had spent itself in tending the inner shrine of +his early image. That ikon was now jarringly displaced by this +insistent presence, and she could not satisfy herself yet as to +whether the change pleased or displeased her. Again and again his +manner antagonized her, but his visible devotion carried an undeniable +appeal, and his voice stirred the deep well of emotion in her heart. + +"Look here, Vivian," he said, "you've no idea how it goes through me +to have you speak like that! You see I've been knocking around here +for all this time, and I haven't had a soul to take an interest. A +fellow needs the society of good women--like you." + +It is an old appeal, and always reaches the mark. To any women it is a +compliment, and to a young girl, doubly alluring. As she looked at +him, the very things she most disliked, his too free manner, his +coarsened complexion, a certain look about the eyes, suddenly assumed +a new interest as proofs of his loneliness and lack of right +companionship. What Mrs. St. Cloud had told her of the ennobling +influence of a true woman, flashed upon her mind. + +"You see, I had no mother," he said simply--"and Aunt Rella spoiled +me--." He looked now like the boy she used to know. + +"Of course I ought to have behaved better," he admitted. "I was +ungrateful--I can see it now. But it did seem to me I couldn't stand +that town a day longer!" + +She could sympathize with this feeling and showed it. + +"Then when a fellow knocks around as I have so long, he gets to where +he doesn't care a hang for anything. Seeing you again makes a lot of +difference, Vivian. I think, perhaps--I could take a new start." + +"Oh do! Do!" she said eagerly. "You're young enough, Morton. You can +do anything if you'll make up your mind to it." + +"And you'll help me?" + +"Of course I'll help you--if I can," said she. + +A feeling of sincere remorse for wasted opportunities rose in the +young man's mind; also, in the presence of this pure-eyed girl, a +sense of shame for his previous habits. He walked to the window, his +hands in his pockets, and looked out blankly for a moment. + +"A fellow does a lot of things he shouldn't," he began, clearing his +throat; she met him more than half way with the overflowing generosity +of youth and ignorance: + +"Never mind what you've done, Morton--you're going to do differently +now! Susie'll be so proud of you--and Aunt Orella!" + +"And you?" He turned upon her suddenly. + +"Oh--I? Of course! I shall be very proud of my old friend." + +She met his eyes bravely, with a lovely look of hope and courage, and +again his heart smote him. + +"I hope you will," he said and straightened his broad shoulders +manfully. + +"Morton Elder!" cried his aunt, bustling in with deep concern in her +voice, "What's this I hear about you're having a sore throat?" + +"Nothing, I hope," said he cheerfully. + +"Now, Morton"--Vivian showed new solicitude--"you know you have got a +sore throat; Susie told me." + +"Well, I wish she'd hold her tongue," he protested. "It's nothing at +all--be all right in a jiffy. No, I won't take any of your fixings, +Auntie." + +"I want Dr. Bellair to look at it anyhow," said his aunt, anxiously. +"She'll know if it's diphtheritic or anything. She's coming in." + +"She can just go out again," he said with real annoyance. "If there's +anything I've no use for it's a woman doctor!" + +"Oh hush, hush!" cried Vivian, too late. + +"Don't apologize," said Dr. Bellair from her doorway. "I'm not in the +least offended. Indeed, I had rather surmised that that was your +attitude; I didn't come in to prescribe, but to find Mrs. Pettigrew." + +"Want me?" inquired the old lady from her doorway. "Who's got a sore +throat?" + +"Morton has," Vivian explained, "and he won't let Aunt Rella--why +where is she?" + +Miss Elder had gone out as suddenly as she had entered. + +"Camphor's good for sore throat," Mrs. Pettigrew volunteered. "Three +or four drops on a piece of sugar. Is it the swelled kind, or the kind +that smarts?" + +"Oh--Halifax!" exclaimed Morton, disgustedly. "It isn't _any_ kind. I +haven't a sore throat." + +"Camphor's good for cold sores; you have one of them anyhow," the old +lady persisted, producing a little bottle and urging it upon Morton. +"Just keep it wet with camphor as often as you think of it, and it'll +go away." + +Vivian looked on, interested and sympathetic, but Morton put his hand +to his lip and backed away. + +"If you ladies don't stop trying to doctor me, I'll clear out +to-morrow, so there!" + +This appalling threat was fortunately unheard by his aunt, who popped +in again at this moment, dragging Dr. Hale with her. Dr. Bellair +smiled quietly to herself. + +"I wouldn't tell him what I wanted him for, or he wouldn't have come, +I'm sure--doctors are so funny," said Miss Elder, breathlessly, "but +here he is. Now, Dr. Hale, here's a foolish boy who won't listen to +reason, and I'm real worried about him. I want you to look at his +throat." + +Dr. Hale glanced briefly at Morton's angry face. + +"The patient seems to be of age, Miss Elder; and, if you'll excuse me, +does not seem to have authorized this call." + +"My affectionate family are bound to have me an invalid," Morton +explained. "I'm in imminent danger of hot baths, cold presses, mustard +plasters, aconite, belladonna and quinine--and if I can once reach my +hat--" + +He sidled to the door and fled in mock terror. + +"Thank you for your good intentions, Miss Elder," Dr. Hale remarked +drily. "You can bring water to the horse, but you can't make him drink +it, you see." + +"Now that that young man has gone we might have a game of whist," Mrs. +Pettigrew suggested, looking not ill-pleased. + +"For which you do not need me in the least," and Dr. Hale was about to +leave, but Dr. Bellair stopped him. + +"Don't be an everlasting Winter woodchuck, Dick! Sit down and play; do +be good. I've got to see old Mrs. Graham yet; she refuses to go to +sleep without it--knowing I'm so near. By by." + +Mrs. Pettigrew insisted on playing with Miss Elder, so Vivian had the +questionable pleasure of Dr. Hale as a partner. He was an expert, used +to frequent and scientific play, and by no means patient with the +girl's mistakes. + +He made no protest at a lost trick, but explained briefly between +hands what she should have remembered and how the cards lay, till she +grew quite discouraged. + +Her game was but mediocre, played only to oblige; and she never could +see why people cared so much about a mere pastime. Pride came to her +rescue at last; the more he criticised, the more determined she grew +to profit by all this advice; but her mind would wander now and then +to Morton, to his young life so largely wasted, it appeared, and to +what hope might lie before him. Could she be the help and stimulus he +seemed to think? How much did he mean by asking her to help him? + +"Why waste a thirteenth trump on your partner's thirteenth card?" Dr. +Hale was asking. + +She flushed a deep rose color and lifted appealing eyes to him. + +"Do forgive me; my mind was elsewhere." + +"Will you not invite it to return?" he suggested drily. + +He excused himself after a few games, and the girl at last was glad to +have him go. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, sitting unaccountably late at her front window, +watched the light burn steadily in the small office at the opposite +corner. Presently she saw a familiar figure slip in there, and, after +a considerable stay, come out quietly, cross the street, and let +himself in at their door. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +SIDE LIGHTS. + + High shines the golden shield in front, + To those who are not blind; + And clear and bright + In all men's sight, + The silver shield behind. + + In breadth and sheen each face is seen; + How tall it is, how wide; + But its thinness shows + To only those + Who stand on either side. + + +Theophile wept aloud in the dining-room, nursing one hand in the +other, like a hurt monkey. + +Most of the diners had departed, but Professor Toomey and Mr. Cuthbert +still lingered about Miss Susie's corner, to the evident displeasure +of Mr. Saunders, who lingered also. + +Miss Susie smiled upon them all; and Mr. Saunders speculated endlessly +as to whether this was due to her general friendliness of disposition, +to an interest in pleasing her aunt's boarders, to personal preference, +or, as he sometimes imagined, to a desire to tease him. + +Morton was talking earnestly with Vivian at the other end of the +table, from which the two angular waitresses had some time since +removed the last plate. One of them opened the swing door a crack and +thrust her head in. + +"He's burnt his hand," she said, "and his Ma's out. We don't dare go +near him." Both of these damsels professed great terror of the poor +boy, though he was invariably good natured, and as timid as a rabbit. + +"Do get the doctor!" cried Susie, nervously; she never felt at ease +with Theophile. + +"Dr. Bellair, I fear, is not in her office," Professor Toomey +announced. "We might summon Dr. Hale." + +"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cuthbert, rising heavily. "He's a great baby, +that's all. Here! Quit that howling and show me your hand!" + +He advanced upon Theophile, who fled toward Vivian. Morton rose in her +defence. "Get out!" he said, "Go back to the kitchen. There's nothing +the matter with you." + +"Wait till you get burned, and see if you think it's nothing," Jimmy +Saunders remarked with some acidity. He did not like Mr. Elder. "Come +here youngster, let me see it." + +But the boy was afraid of all of them, and cowered in a corner, still +bawling. "Stop your noise," Mr. Cuthbert shouted, "Get out of this, or +I'll put you out." + +Vivian rose to her feet. "You will do nothing of the kind. If you, all +of you, will go away, I can quiet Theophile, myself." + +Susie went promptly. She had every confidence in her friend's +management. Mr. Cuthbert was sulky, but followed Susie; and Mr. +Saunders, after some hesitation, followed Susie, too. + +Morton lingered, distrustful. + +"Please go, Morton. I know how to manage him. Just leave us alone," +Vivian urged. + +"You'd better let me put him out, and keep him out, till the old woman +comes back," Morton insisted. + +"You mean kindly, I don't doubt, but you're making me very angry," +said the girl, flushing; and he reluctantly left the room. Professor +Toomey had departed long since, to fulfill his suggestion of calling +Dr. Hale, but when that gentleman appeared, he found that Vivian had +quieted the boy, stayed him with flagons and comforted him with +apples, as it were, and bound up his hand in wet cooking soda. + +"It's not a very bad burn," she told the doctor, "but it hurt, and he +was frightened. He is afraid of everybody but his mother, and the men +were cross to him." + +"I see," said Dr. Hale, watching Theophile as he munched his apple, +keeping carefully behind Vivian and very near her. "He does not seem +much afraid of you, I notice, and he's used to me. The soda is all +right. Where did you learn first aid to the injured, and how to +handle--persons of limited understanding?" + +"The former I studied. The latter comes by nature, I think," replied +the girl, annoyed. + +He laughed, rather suddenly. "It's a good quality, often needed in +this world." + +"What's all this rumpus?" demanded Grandma, appearing at the door. +"Waking me up out of my nap!" Grandma's smooth, fine, still dark hair, +which she wore in "water waves," was somewhat disarranged, and she +held a little shawl about her. + +"Only the household baby, playing with fire," Dr. Hale answered. "Miss +Lane resolved herself into a Red Cross society, and attended to the +wounded. However I think I'll have a look at it now I'm here." + +Then was Vivian surprised, and compelled to admiration, to see with +what wise gentleness the big man won the confidence of the frightened +boy, examined the hurt hand, and bound it up again. + +"You'll do, all right, won't you Theophile," he said, and offered him +a shining nickel and a lozenge, "Which will you have, old man?" + +After some cautious hesitation the boy chose the lozenge, and hastily +applied it where it would do the most good. + +"Where's Mrs. Jones all this time?" suddenly demanded Grandma, who had +gone back to her room and fetched forth three fat, pink gumdrops for +the further consolation of the afflicted. + +"She had to go out to buy clothes for him, she hardly ever leaves him +you know," Vivian explained. "And the girls out there are so afraid +that they won't take any care of him." + +This was true enough, but Vivian did not know that "Mrs. Jones" had +returned and, peering through her favorite peephole, had seen her send +out the others, and attend to the boy's burn with her own hand. Jeanne +Jeaune was not a sentimental person, and judged from her son's easy +consolation that he was little hurt, but she watched the girl's prompt +tenderness with tears in her eyes. + +"She regards him, as any other boy;" thought the mother. "His +infirmity, she does not recall it." Dr. Hale had long since won her +approval, and when Theophile at last ran out, eager to share his +gumdrops, he found her busy as usual in the kitchen. + +She was a silent woman, professionally civil to the waitresses, but +never cordial. The place pleased her, she was saving money, and she +knew that there must be _some_ waitresses--these were probably no +worse than others. For her unfortunate son she expected little, and +strove to keep him near her so far as possible; but Vivian's real +kindness touched her deeply. + +She kept a sharp eye on whatever went on in the dining-room, and what +with the frequent dances and the little groups which used to hang +about the table after meals, or fill a corner of the big room for +quiet chats, she had good opportunities. + +Morton's visible devotion she watched with deep disapproval; though +she was not at all certain that her "young lady" was favorably +disposed toward him. She could see and judge the feelings of the men, +these many men who ate and drank and laughed and paid court to both +the girls. Dr. Hale's brusque coldness she accepted, as from a higher +order of being. Susie's gay coquetries were transparent to her; but +Vivian she could not read so well. + +The girl's deep conscientiousness, her courtesy and patience with all, +and the gentle way in which she evaded the attentions so persistently +offered, were new to Jeanne's experience. When Morton hung about and +tried always to talk with Vivian exclusively, she saw her listen with +kind attention, but somehow without any of that answering gleam which +made Susie's blue eyes so irresistible. + +"She has the lovers, but she has _no_ beauty--to compare with my young +lady!" Jeanne commented inwardly. + +If the sad-eyed Jeanne had been of Scotch extraction instead of +French, she might have quoted the explanation of the homely widow of +three husbands when questioned by the good-looking spinster, who +closed her inquiry by saying aggrievedly, "And ye'r na sae bonny." + +"It's na the bonny that does it," explained the triple widow, "It's +the come hither i' the een." + +Susie's eyes sparkled with the "come hither," but those who came +failed to make any marked progress. She was somewhat more cautious +after the sudden approach and overthrow of Mr. A. Smith; yet more than +one young gentleman boarder found business called him elsewhere, with +marked suddenness; his place eagerly taken by another. The Cottonwoods +had a waiting list, now. + +Vivian made friends first, lovers afterward. Then if the love proved +vain, the friendship had a way of lingering. Hers was one of those +involved and over-conscientious characters, keenly sensitive to the +thought of duty and to others, pain. She could not play with hearts +that might be hurt in the handling, nor could she find in herself a +quick and simple response to the appeals made to her; there were so +many things to be considered. + +Morton studied her with more intensity than he had ever before devoted +to another human being; his admiration and respect grew with +acquaintance, and all that was best in him rose in response to her +wise, sweet womanliness. He had the background of their childhood's +common experiences and her early sentiment--how much he did not know, +to aid him. Then there was the unknown country of his years of +changeful travel, many tales that he could tell her, many more which +he found he could not. + +He pressed his advantage, cautiously, finding the fullest response +when he used the appeal to her uplifting influence. When they talked +in the dining-room the sombre eye at the peephole watched with growing +disapproval. The kitchen was largely left to her and her son by her +fellow workers, on account of their nervous dislike for Theophile, and +she utilized her opportunities. + +Vivian had provided the boy with some big bright picture blocks, and +he spent happy hours in matching them on the white scoured table, +while his mother sewed, and watched. He had forgotten his burn by now, +and she sewed contentedly for there was no one talking to her young +lady but Dr. Hale, who lingered unaccountably. + +To be sure, Vivian had brought him a plate of cakes from the pantry, +and he seemed to find the little brown things efficiently seductive, +or perhaps it was Grandma who held him, sitting bolt upright in her +usual place, at the head of one table, and asking a series of firm but +friendly questions. This she found the only way of inducing Dr. Hale +to talk at all. + +Yes, he was going away--Yes, he would be gone some time--A matter of +weeks, perhaps--He could not say--His boys were all well--He did not +wonder that they saw a good deal of them--It was a good place for them +to come. + +"You might come oftener yourself," said Grandma, "and play real whist +with me. These young people play _Bridge_!" She used this word with +angry scorn, as symbol of all degeneracy; and also despised pinochle, +refusing to learn it, though any one could induce her to play bezique. +Some of the more venturous and argumentative, strove to persuade her +that the games were really the same. + +"You needn't tell me," Mrs. Pettigrew would say, "I don't want to play +any of your foreign games." + +"But, Madam, bezique is not an English word," Professor Toomey had +insisted, on one occasion; to which she had promptly responded, +"Neither is 'bouquet!'" + +Dr. Hale shook his head with a smile. He had a very nice smile, even +Vivian admitted that. All the hard lines of his face curved and +melted, and the light came into those deep-set eyes and shone warmly. + +"I should enjoy playing whist with you very often, Mrs. Pettigrew; but +a doctor has no time to call his own. And a good game of whist must +not be interrupted by telephones." + +"There's Miss Orella!" said Grandma, as the front door was heard to +open. "She's getting to be quite a gadder." + +"It does her good, I don't doubt," the doctor gravely remarked, rising +to go. Miss Orella met him in the hall, and bade him good-bye with +regret. "We do not see much of you, doctor; I hope you'll be back soon." + +"Why it's only a little trip; you good people act as if I were going +to Alaska," he said, "It makes me feel as if I had a family!" + +"Pity you haven't," remarked Grandma with her usual definiteness. +Dykeman stood holding Miss Orella's wrap, with his dry smile. "Good-bye, +Hale," he said. "I'll chaperon your orphan asylum for you. So long." + +"Come out into the dining-room," said Miss Orella, after Dr. Hale had +departed. "I know you must be hungry," and Mr. Dykeman did not deny it. +In his quiet middle-aged way, he enjoyed this enlarged family circle as +much as the younger fellows, and he and Mr. Unwin seemed to vie with one +another to convince Miss Orella that life still held charms for her. Mr. +Skee also hovered about her to a considerable extent, but most of his +devotion was bestowed upon damsels of extreme youth. + +"Here's one that's hungry, anyhow," remarked Dr. Bellair, coming out +of her office at the moment, with her usual clean and clear-starched +appearance. "I've been at it for eighteen hours, with only bites to +eat. Yes, all over; both doing well." + +It was a source of deep self-congratulation to Dr. Bellair to watch +her friend grow young again in the new atmosphere. To Susie it +appeared somewhat preposterous, as her Aunt seems to her mind a +permanently elderly person; while to Mrs. Pettigrew it looked only +natural. "Rella's only a young thing anyway," was her comment. But +Jane Bellair marked and approved the added grace of each new gown, the +blossoming of lace and ribbon, the appearance of long-hoarded bits of +family jewelry, things held "too showy to wear" in Bainville, but +somehow quite appropriate here. + +Vivian and Grandma made Miss Orella sit down at her own table head, +and bustled about in the pantry, bringing cheese and crackers, cake +and fruit; but the doctor poked her head through the swing door and +demanded meat. + +"I don't want a refection, I want food," she said, and Jeanne +cheerfully brought her a plate of cold beef. She was much attached to +Dr. Bellair, for reasons many and good. + +"What I like about this place," said Mrs. Pettigrew, surveying the +scene from the head of her table, "is that there's always something +going on." + +"What I like about it," remarked Dr. Bellair, between +well-Fletcherized mouthfuls, "is that people have a chance to grow and +are growing." + +"What I like," Mr. Dykeman looked about him, and paused in the middle +of a sentence, as was his wont; "is being beautifully taken care of +and made comfortable--any man likes that." + +Miss Orella beamed upon him. Emboldened, he went on: "And what I like +most is the new, delightful"--he was gazing admiringly at her, and she +looked so embarrassed that he concluded with a wide margin of +safety--"friends I'm making." + +Miss Orella's rosy flush, which had risen under his steady gaze, ebbed +again to her usual soft pink. Even her coldest critics, in the most +caustic Bainvillian circles, could never deny that she had "a good +complexion." New England, like old England, loves roses on the cheeks, +and our dry Western winds play havoc with them. But Miss Orella's +bloomed brighter than at home. + +"It is pleasant," she said softly; "all this coming and going--and the +nice people--who stay." She looked at no one in particular, yet Mr. +Dykeman seemed pleased. + +"There's another coming, I guess," remarked Grandma, as a carriage was +heard to stop outside, the gate slammed, and trunk-burdened steps +pounded heavily across the piazza. The bell rang sharply, Mr. Dykeman +opened the door, and the trunk came in first--a huge one, dumped +promptly on the hall floor. + +Behind the trunk and the man beneath it entered a lady; slim, elegant, +graceful, in a rich silk dust coat and soft floating veils. + +"My dear Miss Elder!" she said, coming forward; "and Vivian! Dear +Vivian! I thought you could put me up, somewhere, and told him to come +right here. O--and please--I haven't a bit of change left in my +purse--will you pay the man?" + +"Well, if it isn't Mrs. St. Cloud," said Grandma, without any note of +welcome in her voice. + +Mr. Dykeman paid the man; looked at the trunk, and paid him some more. +The man departed swearing softly at nothing in particular, and Mr. +Dykeman departed also to his own room. + +Miss Orella's hospitable soul was much exercised. Refuse shelter to an +old acquaintance, a guest, however unexpected, she could not; yet she +had no vacant room. Vivian, flushed and excited, moved anew by her +old attraction, eagerly helped the visitor take off her wraps, Mrs. +Pettigrew standing the while, with her arms folded, in the doorway of +her room, her thin lips drawn to a hard line, as one intending to +repel boarders at any risk to life or limb. Dr. Bellair had returned +to her apartments at the first sound of the visitor's voice. + +She, gracious and calm in the midst of confusion, sat in a wreath of +down-dropped silken wrappings, and held Vivian's hand. + +"You dear child!" she said, "how well you look! What a charming place +this is. The doctors sent me West for my health; I'm on my way to +California. But when I found the train stopped here--I didn't know +that it did till I saw the name--I had them take my trunk right off, +and here I am! It is such a pleasure to see you all." + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and disappeared completely, closing the +door behind her. + +"Anything will do, Miss Elder," the visitor went on. "I shall find a +hall bedroom palatial after a sleeping car; or a garret--anything! +It's only for a few days, you know." + +Vivian was restraining herself from hospitable offers by remembering +that her room was also Susie's, and Miss Orella well knew that to give +up hers meant sleeping on a hard, short sofa in that all-too-public +parlor. She was hastily planning in her mind to take Susie in with her +and persuade Mrs. Pettigrew to harbor Vivian, somewhat deterred by +memories of the old lady's expression as she departed, when Mr. +Dykeman appeared at the door, suitcase in hand. + +"I promised Hale I'd keep house for those fatherless boys, you know," +he said. "In the meantime, you're quite welcome to use my room, Miss +Elder." And he departed, her blessing going with him. + +More light refreshments were now in order. Mrs. St. Cloud protesting +that she wanted nothing, but finding much to praise in the delicacies +set before her. Several of the other boarders drifted in, always glad +of an extra bite before going to bed. Susie and Mr. Saunders returned +from a walk, Morton reappeared, and Jeanne, peering sharply in, +resentful of this new drain upon her pantry shelves, saw a fair, +sweet-faced woman, seated at ease, eating daintily, while Miss Elder +and Vivian waited upon her, and the men all gathered admiringly about. +Jeanne Jeaune wagged her head. "Ah, ha, Madame!" she muttered softly, +"Such as you I have met before!" Theophile she had long since sent to +bed, remaining up herself to keep an eye on the continued disturbance +in the front of the house. Vivian and Susie brought the dishes out, +and would have washed them or left them till morning for the maids. + +"Truly, no," said Jeanne Jeaune; "go you to your beds; I will attend +to these." + +One by one she heard them go upstairs, distant movement and soft +dissuasion as two gentlemen insisted on bearing Mrs. St. Cloud's trunk +into her room, receding voices and closing doors. There was no sound +in the dining-room now, but still she waited; the night was not yet +quiet. + +Miss Elder and Susie, Vivian also, hovered about, trying to make this +new guest comfortable, in spite of her graceful protests that they +must not concern themselves in the least about her, that she wanted +nothing--absolutely nothing. At last they left her, and still later, +after some brief exchange of surprised comment and warm appreciation +of Mr. Dykeman's thoughtfulness, the family retired. Vivian, when her +long hair was smoothly braided for the night, felt an imperative need +for water. + +"Don't you want some, Susie? I'll bring you a glass." But Susie only +huddled the bedclothes about her pretty shoulders and said: + +"Don't bring me _anything_, until to-morrow morning!" + +So her room-mate stole out softly in her wrapper, remembering that a +pitcher of cool water still stood on one of the tables. The windows to +the street let in a flood of light from a big street lamp, and she +found her way easily, but was a bit startled for a moment to find a +man still sitting there, his head upon his arms. + +"Why, Morton," she said; "is that you? What are you sitting up for? +It's awfully late. I'm just after some water." She poured a glassful. +"Don't you want some?" + +"No, thank you," he said. "Yes, I will. Give me some, please." + +The girl gave him a glass, drank from her own and set it down, turning +to go, but he reached out and caught a flowing sleeve of her kimono. + +"Don't go, Vivian! Do sit down and talk to a fellow. I've been trying +to see you for days and days." + +"Why, Morton Elder, how absurd! You have certainly seen me every day, +and we've talked hours this very evening. This is no time for +conversation, surely." + +"The best time in the world," he assured her. "All the other times there +are people about--dozens--hundreds--swarms! I want to talk to just you." + +There were certainly no dozens or hundreds about now, but as certainly +there was one, noting with keen and disapproving interest this +midnight tete-a-tete. It did not last very long, and was harmless and +impersonal enough while it lasted. + +Vivian sat for a few moments, listening patiently while the young man +talked of his discouragements, his hopes, his wishes to succeed in +life, to be worthy of her; but when the personal note sounded, when he +tried to take her hand in the semi-darkness, then her New England +conscience sounded also, and she rose to her feet and left him. + +"We'll talk about that another time," she said. "Now do be quiet and +do not wake people up." + +He stole upstairs, dutifully, and she crept softly back to her room +and got into bed, without eliciting more than a mild grunt from sleepy +Susie. Silence reigned at last in the house. Not for long, however. + +At about half past twelve Dr. Bellair was roused from a well-earned +sleep by a light, insistent tap upon her door. She listened, +believing it to be a wind-stirred twig; but no, it was a finger +tap--quiet--repeated. She opened the door upon Jeanne in her +stocking feet. + +"Your pardon, Mrs. Doctor," said the visitor, "but it is of importance. +May I speak for a little? No, I'm not ill, and we need not a light." + +They sat in the clean little office, the swaying cottonwood boughs +making a changeful pattern on the floor. + +"You are a doctor, and you can make an end to it--you must make an end +to it," said Jeanne, after a little hesitation. "This young man--this +nephew--he must not marry my young lady." + +"What makes you think he wants to?" asked the doctor. + +"I have seen, I have heard--I know," said Jeanne. "You know, all can +see that he loves her. _He!_ Not such as he for my young lady." + +"Why do you object to him, Jeanne?" + +"He has lived the bad life," said the woman, grimly. + +"Most young men are open to criticism," said Dr. Bellair. "Have you +anything definite to tell me--anything that you could _prove_?--if it +were necessary to save her?" She leaned forward, elbows on knees. + +Jeanne sat in the flickering shadows, considering her words. "He has +had the sickness," she said at last. + +"Can you prove that?" + +"I can prove to you, a doctor, that Coralie and Anastasia and +Estelle--they have had it. They are still alive; but not so beautiful." + +"Yes; but how can you prove it on him?" + +"I know he was with them. Well, it was no secret. I myself have +seen--he was there often." + +"How on earth have you managed not to be recognized?" Dr. Bellair +inquired after a few moments. + +Jeanne laughed bitterly. "That was eight years ago; he was but a +boy--gay and foolish, with the others. What does a boy know?... Also, +at that time I was blonde, and--of a difference." + +"I see," said the doctor, "I see! That's pretty straight. You know +personally of that time, and you know the record of those others. But +that was a long time ago." + +"I have heard of him since, many times, in such company," said Jeanne. +They sat in silence for some time. A distant church clock struck a +single deep low note. The woman rose, stood for a hushed moment, +suddenly burst forth with hushed intensity: "You must save her, +doctor--you will! I was young once," she went on. "I did not know--as +she does not. I married, and--_that_ came to me! It made me a devil--for +awhile. Tell her, doctor--if you must; tell her about my boy!" + +She went away, weeping silently, and Dr. Bellair sat sternly thinking +in her chair, and fell asleep in it from utter weariness. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A MIXTURE. + + In poetry and painting and fiction we see + Such praise for the Dawn of the Day, + We've long since been convinced that a sunrise must be + All Glorious and Golden and Gay. + + But we find there are mornings quite foggy and drear, + With the clouds in a low-hanging pall; + Till the grey light of daylight can hardly make clear + That the sun has arisen at all. + + +Dr. Richard Hale left his brood of temporary orphans without really +expecting for them any particular oversight from Andrew Dykeman; but +the two were sufficiently close friends to well warrant the latter in +moving over to The Monastery--as Jimmie Saunders called it. + +Mr. Dykeman was sufficiently popular with the young men to be welcome, +even if he had not had a good excuse, and when they found how +super-excellent his excuse was they wholly approved. + +To accommodate Miss Orella was something--all the boys liked Miss +Orella. They speculated among themselves on her increasing youth and +good looks, and even exchanged sagacious theories as to the particular +acting cause. But when they found that Mr. Dykeman's visit was to make +room for the installation of Mrs. St. Cloud, they were more than +pleased. + +All the unexpressed ideals of masculine youth seemed centered in this +palely graceful lady; the low, sweet voice, the delicate hands, the +subtle sympathy of manner, the nameless, quiet charm of dress. + +Young Burns became her slave on sight, Lawson and Peters fell on the +second day; not one held out beyond the third. Even Susie's +attractions paled, her very youth became a disadvantage; she lacked +that large considering tenderness. + +"Fact is," Mr. Peters informed his friends rather suddenly, "young +women are selfish. Naturally, of course. It takes some experience +to--well, to understand a fellow." They all agreed with him. + +Mr. Dykeman, quiet and reserved as always, was gravely polite to the +newcomer, and Mr. Skee revolved at a distance, making observations. +Occasionally he paid some court to her, at which times she was cold to +him; and again he devoted himself to the other ladies with his +impressive air, as of one bowing low and sweeping the floor with a +plumed hat. + +Mr. Skee's Stetson had, as a matter of fact, no sign of plumage, and +his bows were of a somewhat jerky order; but his gallantry was +sweeping and impressive, none the less. If he remained too far away +Mrs. St. Cloud would draw him to her circle, which consisted of all +the other gentlemen. + +There were two exceptions. Mr. James Saunders had reached the stage +where any woman besides Susie was but a skirted ghost, and Morton was by +this time so deeply devoted to Vivian that he probably would not have +wavered even if left alone. He was not wholly a free agent, however. + +Adela St. Cloud had reached an age when something must be done. Her +mysterious absent husband had mysteriously and absently died, and +still she never breathed a word against him. But the Bible Class in +Bainville furnished no satisfactory material for further hopes, the +place of her earlier dwelling seemed not wholly desirable now, and the +West had called her. + +Finding herself comfortably placed in Mr. Dykeman's room, and judging +from the number of his shoe-trees and the quality of his remaining +toilet articles that he might be considered "suitable," she decided to +remain in the half-way house for a season. So settled, why, for a +thousand reasons one must keep one's hand in. + +There were men in plenty, from twenty year old Archie to the uncertain +decades of Mr. Skee. Idly amusing herself, she questioned that +gentleman indirectly as to his age, drawing from him astounding +memories of the previous century. + +When confronted with historic proof that the events he described were +over a hundred years passed, he would apologize, admitting that he had +no memory for dates. She owned one day, with gentle candor, to being +thirty-three. + +"That must seem quite old to a man like you, Mr. Skee. I feel very +old sometimes!" She lifted large eyes to him, and drew her filmy scarf +around her shoulders. + +"Your memory must be worse than mine, ma'am," he replied, "and work +the same way. You've sure got ten or twenty years added on +superfluous! Now me!" He shook his head; "I don't remember when I was +born at all. And losin' my folks so young, _and_ the family Bible--I +don't expect I ever shall. But I 'low I'm all of ninety-seven." + +This being palpably impossible, and as the only local incidents he +could recall in his youth were quite dateless adventures among the +Indians, she gave it up. Why Mr. Skee should have interested her at +all was difficult to say, unless it was the appeal to his +uncertainty--he was at least a game fish, if not edible. + +Of the women she met, Susie and Vivian were far the most attractive, +wherefore Mrs. St. Cloud, with subtle sympathy and engaging frankness, +fairly cast Mr. Saunders in Susie's arms, and vice versa, as +opportunity occurred. + +Morton she rather snubbed, treated him as a mere boy, told tales of his +childhood that were in no way complimentary--so that he fled from her. + +With Vivian she renewed her earlier influence to a great degree. + +With some inquiry and more intuition she discovered what it was that +had chilled the girl's affection for her. + +"I don't wonder, my dear child," she said; "I never told you of +that--I never speak of it to anyone.... It was one of the--" she +shivered slightly--"darkest griefs of a very dark time.... He was a +beautiful boy.... I never _dreamed_----" + +The slow tears rose in her beautiful eyes till they shone like +shimmering stars. + +"Heaven send no such tragedy may ever come into your life, dear!" + +She reached a tender hand to clasp the girl's. "I am so glad of your +happiness!" + +Vivian was silent. As a matter of fact, she was not happy enough to +honestly accept sympathy. Mrs. St. Cloud mistook her attitude, or +seemed to. + +"I suppose you still blame me. Many people did. I often blame myself. +One cannot be _too_ careful. It's a terrible responsibility, +Vivian--to have a man love you." + +The girl's face grew even more somber. That was one thing which was +troubling her. + +"But your life is all before you," pursued the older woman. "Your +dream has come true! How happy--how wonderfully happy you must be!" + +"I am not, not _really_," said the girl. "At least----" + +"I know--I know; I understand," Mrs. St. Cloud nodded with tender +wisdom. "You are not sure. Is not that it?" + +That was distinctly "it," and Vivian so agreed. + +"There is no other man?" + +"Not the shadow of one!" said the girl firmly. And as her questioner +had studied the field and made up her mind to the same end, she +believed her. + +"Then you must not mind this sense of uncertainty. It always happens. +It is part of the morning clouds of maidenhood, my dear--it vanishes +with the sunrise!" And she smiled beatifically. + +Then the girl unburdened herself of her perplexities. She could +always express herself so easily to this sympathetic friend. + +"There are so many things that I--dislike--about him," she said. +"Habits of speech--of manners. He is not--not what I----" + +She paused. + +"Not all the Dream! Ah! My dear child, they never are! We are given +these beautiful ideals to guard and guide us; but the real is never +quite the same. But when a man's soul opens to you--when he loves--these +small things vanish. They can be changed--you will change them." + +"Yes--he says so," Vivian admitted. "He says that he knows that he +is--unworthy--and has done wrong things. But so have I, for that +matter." + +Mrs. St. Cloud agreed with her. "I am glad you feel that, my dear. Men +have their temptations--their vices--and we good women are apt to be +hard on them. But have we no faults? Ah, my dear, I have seen good +women--young girls, like yourself--ruin a man's whole life by--well, +by heartlessness; by lack of understanding. Most young men do things +they become ashamed of when they really love. And in the case of a +motherless boy like this--lonely, away from his home, no good woman's +influence about--what else could we expect? But you can make a new man +of him. A glorious work!" + +"That's what he says. I'm not so sure--" The girl hesitated. + +"Not sure you can? Oh, my child, it is the most beautiful work on +earth! To see from year to year a strong, noble character grow under +your helping hand! To be the guiding star, the inspiration of a man's +life. To live to hear him say: + + "'Ah, who am I that God should bow + From heaven to choose a wife for me? + What have I done He should endow + My home with thee?'" + +There was a silence. + +Vivian's dark eyes shone with appreciation for the tender beauty of +the lines, the lovely thought. Then she arose and walked nervously +across the floor, returning presently. + +"Mrs. St. Cloud----" + +"Call me Adela, my dear." + +"Adela--dear Adela--you--you have been married. I have no mother. Tell +me, ought not there to be more--more love? I'm fond of Morton, of +course, and I do want to help him--but surely, if I loved him--I +should feel happier--more sure!" + +"The first part of love is often very confusing, my dear. I'll tell +you how it is: just because you are a woman grown and feel your +responsibilities, especially here, where you have so many men friends, +you keep Morton at a distance. Then the external sort of cousinly +affection you have for him rather blinds you to other feelings. But I +have not forgotten--and I'm sure you have not--the memory of that hot, +sweet night so long ago; the world swimming in summer moonlight and +syringa sweetness; the stillness everywhere--and your first kiss!" + +Vivian started to her feet. She moved to the window and stood awhile; +came back and kissed her friend warmly, and went away without another +word. + +The lady betook herself to her toilet, and spent some time on it, for +there was one of Miss Peeder's classes that night. + +Mrs. St. Cloud danced with many, but most with Mr. Dykeman; no woman +in the room had her swimming grace of motion, and yet, with all the +throng of partners about her she had time to see Susie's bright head +bobbing about beneath Mr. Saunders down-bent, happy face, and Vivian, +with her eyes cast down, dancing with Morton, whose gaze never left +her. He was attention itself, he brought her precisely the supper she +liked, found her favorite corner to rest in, took her to sit on the +broad piazza between dances, remained close to her, still talking +earnestly, when all the outsiders had gone. + +Vivian found it hard to sleep that night. All that he had said of his +new hope, new power, new courage, bore out Mrs. St. Cloud's bright +promise of a new-built life. And some way, as she had listened and did +not forbid, the touch of his hand, the pressure of his arm, grew +warmer and brought back the memories of that summer night so long ago. + +He had begged hard for a kiss before he left her, and she quite had to +tear herself away, as Susie drifted in, also late; and Aunt Orella said +they must all go to bed right away--she was tired if they were not. + +She did look tired. This dance seemed somehow less agreeable to her +than had others. She took off her new prettinesses and packed them +away in a box in the lower drawer. + +"I'm an old fool!" she said. "Trying to dress up like a girl. I'm +ashamed of myself!" Quite possibly she did not sleep well either, yet +she had no room-mate to keep her awake by babbling on, as Susie did to +Vivian. + +Her discourse was first, last and always about Jimmie Saunders. He had +said this, he had looked that, he had done so; and what did Vivian +think he meant? And wasn't he handsome--and _so_ clever! + +Little Susie cuddled close and finally dropped off asleep, her arms +around Vivian. But the older girl counted the hours; her head, or her +heart, in a whirl. + +Morton Elder was wakeful, too. So much so that he arose with a +whispered expletive, took his shoes in his hand, and let himself +softly out for a tramp in the open. + +This was not the first of his love affairs, but with all his hot young +heart he wished it was. He stood still, alone on the high stretches of +moonlit mesa and looked up at the measureless, brilliant spaces above +him. + +"I'll keep straight--if I can have her!" he repeated under his breath. +"I will! I will!" + +It had never occurred to him before to be ashamed of the various +escapades of his youth. He had done no more than others, many others. +None of "the boys" he associated with intended to do what was wrong; +they were quite harsh in judgment of those who did, according to their +standards. None of them had been made acquainted with the social or +pathological results of their amusements, and the mere "Zutritt ist +Verboten" had never impressed them at all. + +But now the gentler influences of his childhood, even the narrow +morality of Bainville, rose in pleasant colors in his mind. He wished +he had saved his money, instead of spending it faster than it came in. +He wished he had kept out of poker and solo and barrooms generally. He +wished, in a dumb, shamed way, that he could come to her as clean as +she was. But he threw his shoulders back and lifted his head +determinedly. + +"I'll be good to her," he determined; "I'll make her a good husband." + +In the days that followed his devotion was as constant as before, but +more intelligent. His whole manner changed and softened. He began to +read the books she liked, and to talk about them. He was gentler to +everyone, more polite, even to the waitresses, tender and thoughtful +of his aunt and sister. Vivian began to feel a pride in him, and in +her influence, deepening as time passed. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, visiting the library on one of her frequent errands, +was encountered there and devotedly escorted home by Mr. Skee. + +"That is a most fascinating young lady who has Mr. Dykeman's room; +don't you think so, ma'am?" quoth he. + +"I do not," said Mrs. Pettigrew. "Young! She's not so young as you +are--nothing like--never was!" + +He threw back his head and laughed his queer laugh, which looked so +uproarious and made so little noise. + +"She certainly is a charmer, whatever her age may be," he continued. + +"Glad you think so, Mr. Skee. It may be time you lost a fourth!" + +"Lost a fourth? What in the--Hesperides!" + +"If you can't guess what, you needn't ask me!" said the lady, with +some tartness. "But for my own part I prefer the Apaches. Good +afternoon, Mr. Skee." + +She betook herself to her room with unusual promptness, and refused to +be baited forth by any kind of offered amusement. + +"It's right thoughtful of Andy Dykeman, gettin' up this entertainment +for Mrs. St. Cloud, isn't it, Mrs. Elder?" Thus Mr. Skee to Miss +Orella a little later. + +"I don't think it is Mr. Dykeman's idea at all," she told him. "It's +those boys over there. They are all wild about her, quite naturally." +She gave a little short sigh. "If Dr. Hale were at home I doubt if he +would encourage it." + +"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't, Ma'am. He's certainly down on the fair +sex, even such a peacherino as this one. But with Andy, now, it's +different. He is a man of excellent judgment." + +"I guess all men's judgment is pretty much alike in some ways," said +Miss Orella, oracularly. She seemed busy and constrained, and Mr. Skee +drifted off and paid court as best he might to Dr. Bellair. + +"Charmed to find you at home, Ma'am," he said; "or shall I say at +office?" + +"Call it what you like, Mr. Skee; it's been my home for a good many +years now." + +"It's a mighty fine thing for a woman, livin' alone, to have a +business, seems to me," remarked the visitor. + +"It's a fine thing for any woman, married or single, to my mind," she +answered. "I wish I could get Vivian Lane started in that kindergarten +she talks about." + +"There's kids enough, and goodness knows they need a gardener! What's +lackin'? House room?" + +"She thinks she's not really competent. She has no regular +certificate, you see. Her parents would never let go of her long +enough," the doctor explained. + +"Some parents _are_ pretty graspin', ain't they? To my mind, Miss +Vivian would be a better teacher than lots of the ticketed ones. She's +got the natural love of children." + +"Yes, and she has studied a great deal. She just needs an impetus." + +"Perhaps if she thought there was 'a call' she might be willing. I +doubt if the families here realize what they're missin'. Aint there +some among your patients who could be stirred up a little?" + +The doctor thought there were, and he suggested several names from his +apparently unlimited acquaintance. + +"I believe in occupation for the young. It takes up their minds," said +Mr. Skee, and departed with serenity. He strolled over to Dr. Hale's +fence and leaned upon it, watching the preparations. Mr. Dykeman, in +his shirt-sleeves, stood about offering suggestions, while the young +men swarmed here and there with poles and stepladders, hanging Chinese +lanterns. + +"Hello, Elmer; come in and make yourself useful," called Mr. Dykeman. + +"I'll come in, but I'll be switched if I'll be useful," he replied, +laying a large hand on the fence and vaulting his long legs over it +with an agility amazing in one of his alleged years. "You all are sure +putting yourself out for this occasion. Is it somebody's birthday?" + +"No; it's a get-up of these youngsters. They began by wanting Mrs. St. +Cloud to come over to tea--afternoon tea--and now look at this!" + +"Did she misunderstand the invitation as bad as that?" + +"O, no; just a gradual change of plan. One thing leads to another, you +know. Here, Archie! That bush won't hold the line. Put it on the +willow." + +"I see," said Mr. Skee; "and, as we're quotin' proverbs, I might +remark that 'While the cat's away the mice will play.'" + +Mr. Dykeman smiled. "It's rather a good joke on Hale, isn't it?" + +"Would be if he should happen to come home--and find this hen-party +on." They both chuckled. + +"I guess he's good for a week yet," said Mr. Dykeman. "Those medical +associations do a lot of talking. Higher up there, George--a good +deal higher." + +He ran over to direct the boys, and Mr. Skee, hands behind him, +strolled up and down the garden, wearing a meditative smile. He and +Andrew Dykeman had been friends for many long years. + +Dr. Bellair used her telephone freely after Mr. Skee's departure, +making notes and lists of names. Late in the afternoon she found +Vivian in the hall. + +"I don't see much of you these days, Miss Lane," she said. + +The girl flushed. Since Mrs. St. Cloud's coming and their renewed +intimacy she had rather avoided the doctor, and that lady had kept +herself conspicuously out of the way. + +"Don't call me Miss Lane; I'm Vivian--to my friends." + +"I hope you count me a friend?" said Dr. Bellair, gravely. + +"I do, Doctor, and I'm proud to. But so many things have been +happening lately," she laughed, a little nervously. "The truth is, I'm +really ashamed to talk to you; I'm so lazy." + +"That's exactly what I wanted to speak about. Aren't you ready to +begin that little school of yours?" + +"I'd like to--I should, really," said the girl. "But, somehow, I don't +know how to set about it." + +"I've been making some inquiries," said the doctor. "There are six or +eight among my patients that you could count on--about a dozen young +ones. How many could you handle?" + +"Oh, I oughtn't to have more than twenty in any case. A dozen would be +plenty to begin with. Do you think I _could_ count on them--really?" + +"I tell you what I'll do," her friend offered; "I'll take you around +and introduce you to any of them you don't know. Most of 'em come here +to the dances. There's Mrs. Horsford and Mrs. Blake, and that little +Mary Jackson with the twins. You'll find they are mostly friends." + +"You are awfully kind," said the girl. "I wish"--her voice took on a +sudden note of intensity--"I do wish I were strong, like you, Dr. +Bellair." + +"I wasn't very strong--at your age--my child. I did the weakest of +weak things--" + +Vivian was eager to ask her what it was, but a door opened down one +side passage and the doctor quietly disappeared down the other, as +Mrs. St. Cloud came out. + +"I thought I heard your voice," she said. "And Miss Elder's, wasn't +it?" + +"No; it was Dr. Bellair." + +"A strong character, and a fine physician, I understand. I'm sorry she +does not like me." + +Mrs. St. Cloud's smile made it seem impossible that anyone should +dislike her. + +Vivian could not, however, deny the fact, and was not diplomatic enough +to smooth it over, which her more experienced friend proceeded to do. + +"It is temperamental," she said gently. "If we had gone to school +together we would not have been friends. She is strong, downright, +progressive; I am weaker, more sensitive, better able to bear than to +do. You must find her so stimulating." + +"Yes," the girl said. "She was talking to me about my school." + +"Your school?" + +"Didn't you know I meant to have a sort of kindergarten? We planned it +even before starting; but Miss Elder seemed to need me at first, and +since then--things--have happened----" + +"And other things will happen, dear child! Quite other and different +things." + +The lady's smile was bewitching. Vivian flushed slowly under her gaze. + +"Oh, my dear, I watched you dancing together! You don't mind my +noticing, do you?" + +Her voice was suddenly tender and respectful. "I do not wish to +intrude, but you are very dear to me. Come into my room--do--and tell +me what to wear to-night." + +Mrs. St. Cloud's clothes had always been a delight to Vivian. They +were what she would have liked to wear--and never quite have dared, +under the New England fear of being "too dressy." Her own beauty was +kept trimly neat, like a closed gentian. + +Her friend was in the gayest mood. She showed her a trunkful of +delicate garments and gave her a glittering embroidered scarf, which +the girl rapturously admired, but declared she would never have the +courage to wear. + +"You shall wear it this very night," declared the lady. "Here--show me +what you've got. You shall be as lovely as you _are_, for once!" + +So Vivian brought out her modest wardrobe, and the older woman chose a +gown of white, insisted on shortening the sleeves to fairy wings of +lace, draped the scarf about her white neck, raised the soft, +close-bound hair to a regal crown, and put a shining star in it, and +added a string of pearls on the white throat. + +"Look at yourself now, child!" she said. + +Vivian looked, in the long depths of Mr. Dykeman's mirror. She knew +that she had beauty, but had never seen herself so brilliantly +attired. Erect, slender, graceful, the long lines of her young body +draped in soft white, and her dark head, crowned and shining, poised +on its white column, rising from the shimmering lace. Her color +deepened as she looked, and added to the picture. + +"You shall wear it to-night! You shall!" cried her admiring friend. +"To please me--if no one else!" + +Whether to please her or someone else, Vivian consented, the two +arriving rather late at the garden party across the way. + +Mr. Dykeman, looking very tall and fine in his evening clothes, was a +cordial host, ably seconded by the eager boys about him. + +The place was certainly a credit to their efforts, the bare rooms +being turned to bowers by vines and branches brought from the +mountains, and made fragrant by piled flowers. Lights glimmered +through colored shades among the leaves, and on the dining table young +Peters, who came from Connecticut, had rigged a fountain by means of +some rubber tubing and an auger hole in the floor. This he had made +before Mr. Dykeman caught him, and vowed Dr. Hale would not mind. Mr. +Peters' enjoyment of the evening, however, was a little dampened by +his knowledge of the precarious nature of this arrangement. He danced +attendance on Mrs. St. Cloud, with the others, but wore a preoccupied +expression, and stole in once or twice from the lit paths outside to +make sure that all was running well. It was well to and during supper +time, and the young man was complimented on his ingenuity. + +"Reminds me of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon," said Mr. Skee, +sentimentally. + +"Why?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew. + +"Oh, _why_, Ma'am? How can a fellow say why?" he protested. "Because +it is so--so efflorescent, I suppose." + +"Reminds me of a loose faucet," said she, _sotto voce_, to Dr. Bellair. + +Mr. Peters beamed triumphantly, but in the very hour of his glory +young Burns, hastening to get a cup of coffee for his fair one, +tripped over the concealed pipe, and the fountain poured forth its +contributions among the feet of the guests. + +This was a minor misadventure, however, hurting no one's feeling but +Mr. Peters', and Mrs. St. Cloud was so kind to him in consequence that +he was envied by all the others. + +Mr. Dykeman was attentive to his guests, old and young, but Mrs. +Pettigrew had not her usual smile for him; Miss Orella declined to +dance, alleging that she was too tired, and Dr. Bellair somewhat dryly +told him that he need not bother with her. He was hardly to be blamed +if he turned repeatedly to Mrs. St. Cloud, whose tactful sweetness was +always ready. She had her swarm of young admirers about her, yet never +failed to find a place for her host, a smile and a word of +understanding. + +Her eyes were everywhere. She watched Mr. Skee waltzing with the +youngest, providing well-chosen refreshments for Miss Orella, +gallantly escorting Grandma to see the "Lovers' Lane" they had made at +the end of the garden. Its twin lines of lights were all outside; +within was grateful shadow. + +Mrs. St. Cloud paced through this fragrant arbor with each and every one +of the receiving party, uttering ever-fresh expressions of admiration +and gratitude for their kind thoughtfulness, especially to Mr. Dykeman. + +When she saw Susie and Mr. Saunders go in at the farther end, she +constituted herself a sort of protective agency to keep every one else +out, holding them in play with various pleasant arts. + +And Vivian? When she arrived there was a little gasp from Morton, who +was waiting for her near the door. She was indeed a sight to make a +lover's heart leap. He had then, as it were, surrounded her. Vainly +did the others ask for dances. Morton had unblushingly filled out a +card with his own name and substituted it for the one she handed him. +She protested, but the music sounded and he whirled her away before +she could expostulate to any avail. + +His eyes spoke his admiration, and for once his tongue did not spoil +the impression. + +Half laughing and half serious, she let him monopolize her, but quite +drove him away when Mr. Dykeman claimed his dance. + +"All filled up!" said Morton for her, showing his card. + +"Mine was promised yesterday, was it not, Miss Lane?" said the big man, +smiling. And she went with him. He took her about the garden later, +gravely admiring and attentive, and when Susie fairly rushed into her +arms, begging her to come and talk with her, he left them both in a +small rose-crowned summer-house and went back to Mrs. St. Cloud. + +"Oh, Vivian, Vivian! What do you think!" Susie's face was buried on +Vivian's shoulder. "I'm engaged!" + +Vivian held her close and kissed her soft hair. Her joyous excitement +was contagious. + +"He's the nicest man in the world!" breathed Susie, "and he loves me!" + +"We all supposed he did. Didn't you know it before?" + +"Oh, yes, in a way; but, Vivian--he kissed me!" + +"Well, child, have you never in all your little life been kissed +before?" + +Susie lifted a rosy, tearful face for a moment. + +"Never, never, never!" she said. "I thought I had, but I haven't! Oh, +I am so happy!" + +"What's up?" inquired Morton, appearing with a pink lantern in his +hand, in impatient search for his adored one. "Susie--crying?" + +"No, I'm _not_," she said, and ran forthwith back to the house, whence +Jimmy was bringing her ice cream. + +Vivian started to follow her. + +"Oh, no, Vivian; don't go. Wait." He dropped the lantern and took her +hands. The paper cover flared up, showing her flushed cheeks and +starry eyes. He stamped out the flame, and in the sudden darkness +caught her in his arms. + +For a moment she allowed him, turning her head away. He kissed her +white shoulder. + +"No! No, Morton--don't! You mustn't!" + +She tried to withdraw herself, but he held her fast. She could feel +the pounding of his heart. + +"Oh, Vivian, don't say no! You will marry me, won't you? Some day, +when I'm more worth while. Say you will! Some day--if not now. I love +you so; I need you so! Say yes, Vivian." + +He was breathing heavily. His arms held her motionless. She still kept +her face turned from him. + +"Let me go, Morton; let me go! You hurt me!" + +"Say yes, dear, and I'll let you go--for a little while." + +"Yes," said Vivian. + +The ground jarred beside them, as a tall man jumped the hedge +boundary. He stood a moment, staring. + +"Well, is this my house, or Coney Island?" they heard him say. And +then Morton swore softly to himself as Vivian left him and came out. + +"Good evening, Dr. Hale," she said, a little breathlessly. "We weren't +expecting you so soon." + +"I should judge not," he answered. "What's up, anyhow?" + +"The boys--and Mr. Dykeman--are giving a garden party for Mrs. St. +Cloud." + +"For whom?" + +"For Adela St. Cloud. She is visiting us. Aren't you coming in?" + +"Not now," he said, and was gone without another word. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CONSEQUENCES. + + You may have a fondness for grapes that are green, + And the sourness that greenness beneath; + You may have a right + To a colic at night-- + But consider your children's teeth! + + +Dr. Hale retired from his gaily illuminated grounds in too much +displeasure to consider the question of dignity. One suddenly acting +cause was the news given him by Vivian. The other was the sight of +Morton Elder's face as he struck a match to light his cigarette. + +Thus moved, and having entered and left his own grounds like a thief +in the night, he proceeded to tramp in the high-lying outskirts of the +town until every light in his house had gone out. Then he returned, +let himself into his office, and lay there on a lounge until morning. + +Vivian had come out so quickly to greet the doctor from obscure +motives. She felt a sudden deep objection to being found there with +Morton, a wish to appear as one walking about unconcernedly, and when +that match glow made Morton's face shine out prominently in the dark +shelter, she, too, felt a sudden displeasure. + +Without a word she went swiftly to the house, excused herself to her +Grandmother, who nodded understandingly, and returned to The +Cottonwoods, to her room. She felt that she must be alone and think; +think of that irrevocable word she had uttered, and its consequences. + +She sat at her window, rather breathless, watching the rows of pink +lanterns swaying softly on the other side of the street; hearing the +lively music, seeing young couples leave the gate and stroll off +homeward. + +Susie's happiness came more vividly to mind than her own. It was so +freshly joyous, so pure, so perfectly at rest. She could not feel that +way, could not tell with decision exactly how she did feel. But if this +was happiness, it was not as she had imagined it. She thought of that +moonlit summer night so long ago, and the memory of its warm wonder +seemed sweeter than the hasty tumult and compulsion of to-night. + +She was stirred through and through by Morton's intense emotion, but +with a sort of reaction, a wish to escape. He had been so madly +anxious, he had held her so close; there seemed no other way but to +yield to him--in order to get away. + +And then Dr. Hale had jarred the whole situation. She had to be polite +to him, in his own grounds. If only Morton had kept still--that +grating match--his face, bent and puffing, Dr. Hale must have seen +him. And again she thought of little Susie with almost envy. Even +after that young lady had come in, bubbled over with confidences and +raptures, and finally dropped to sleep without Vivian's having been +able to bring herself to return the confidences, she stole back to her +window again to breathe. + +Why had Dr. Hale started so at the name of Mrs. St. Cloud? That was +puzzling her more than she cared to admit. By and by she saw his +well-known figure, tall and erect, march by on the other side and go +into the office. + +"O, well," she sighed at last, "I'm not young, like Susie. Perhaps it +_is_ like this--" + +Now Morton had been in no special need of that cigarette at that +special moment, but he did not wish to seem to hide in the dusky +arbor, nor to emerge lamely as if he had hidden. So he lit the match, +more from habit than anything else. When it was out, and the cigarette +well lighted, he heard the doctor's sudden thump on the other side of +the fence and came out to rejoin Vivian. She was not there. + +He did not see her again that night, and his meditations were such +that next day found him, as a lover, far more agreeable to Vivian than +the night before. He showed real understanding, no triumph, no airs of +possession; took no liberties, only said: "When I am good enough I +shall claim you--my darling!" and looked at her with such restrained +longing that she quite warmed to him again. + +He held to this attitude, devoted, quietly affectionate; till her +sense of rebellion passed away and her real pleasure in his +improvement reasserted itself. As they read together, if now and then +his arm stole around her waist, he always withdrew it when so +commanded. Still, one cannot put the same severity into a prohibition +too often repeated. The constant, thoughtful attention of a man +experienced in the art of pleasing women, the new and frankly +inexperienced efforts he made to meet her highest thoughts, to learn +and share her preferences, both pleased her. + +He was certainly good looking, certainly amusing, certainly had become +a better man from her companionship. She grew to feel a sort of +ownership in this newly arisen character; a sort of pride in it. Then, +she had always been fond of Morton, since the time when he was only +"Susie's big brother." That counted. + +Another thing counted, too, counted heavily, though Vivian never +dreamed of it and would have hotly repudiated the charge. She was a +woman of full marriageable age, with all the unused powers of her +woman's nature calling for expression, quite unrecognized. + +He was a man who loved her, loved her more deeply than he had ever +loved before, than he had even known he could love; who quite +recognized what called within him and meant to meet the call. And he +was near her every day. + +After that one fierce outbreak he held himself well in check. He knew +he had startled her then, almost lost her. And with every hour of +their companionship he felt more and more how much she was to him. +Other women he had pursued, overtaken, left behind. He felt that there +was something in Vivian which was beyond him, giving a stir and lift +of aspiration which he genuinely enjoyed. + +Day by day he strove to win her full approval, and day by day he did +not neglect the tiny, slow-lapping waves of little tendernesses, small +affectionate liberties at well-chosen moments, always promptly +withdrawing when forbidden, but always beginning again a little +further on. + +Dr. Bellair went to Dr. Hale's office and sat herself down solidly in +the patient's chair. + +"Dick," she said, "are you going to stand for this?" + +"Stand for what, my esteemed but cryptic fellow-practitioner?" + +She eyed his calm, reserved countenance with friendly admiration. "You +are an awfully good fellow, Dick, but dull. At the same time dull and +transparent. Are you going to sit still and let that dangerous patient +of yours marry the finest girl in town?" + +"Your admiration for girls is always stronger than mine, Jane; and I +have, if you will pardon the boast, more than one patient." + +"All right, Dick--if you want it made perfectly clear to your +understanding. Do you mean to let Morton Elder marry Vivian Lane?" + +"What business is it of mine?" he demanded, more than +brusquely--savagely. + +"You know what he's got." + +"I am a physician, not a detective. And I am not Miss Lane's father, +brother, uncle or guardian." + +"Or lover," added Dr. Bellair, eyeing him quietly. She thought she saw a +second's flicker of light in the deep gray eyes, a possible tightening +of set lips. "Suppose you are not," she said; "nor even a humanitarian. +You _are_ a member of society. Do you mean to let a man whom you know +has no right to marry, poison the life of that splendid girl?" + +He was quite silent for a moment, but she could see the hand on the +farther arm of his chair grip it till the nails were white. + +"How do you know he--wishes to marry her?" + +"If you were about like other people, you old hermit, you'd know it as +well as anybody. I think they are on the verge of an engagement, if +they aren't over it already. Once more, Dick, shall you do anything?" + +"No," said he. Then, as she did not add a word, he rose and walked up +and down the office in big strides, turning upon her at last. + +"You know how I feel about this. It is a matter of honor--professional +honor. You women don't seem to know what the word means. I've told +that good-for-nothing young wreck that he has no right to marry for +years yet, if ever. That is all I can do. I will not betray the +confidence of a patient." + +"Not if he had smallpox, or scarlet fever, or the bubonic plague? +Suppose a patient of yours had the leprosy, and wanted to marry your +sister, would you betray his confidence?" + +"I might kill my sister," he said, glaring at her. "I refuse to argue +with you." + +"Yes, I think you'd better refuse," she said, rising. "And you don't +have to kill Vivian Lane, either. A man's honor always seems to want +to kill a woman to satisfy it. I'm glad I haven't got the feeling. +Well, Dick, I thought I'd give you a chance to come to your senses, a +real good chance. But I won't leave you to the pangs of unavailing +remorse, you poor old goose. That young syphilitic is no patient of +mine." And she marched off to perform a difficult duty. + +She was very fond of Vivian. The girl's unselfish sweetness of +character and the depth of courage and power she perceived behind the +sensitive, almost timid exterior, appealed to her. If she had had a +daughter, perhaps she would have been like that. If she had had a +daughter would she not have thanked anyone who would try to save her +from such a danger? From that worse than deadly peril, because of +which she had no daughter. + +Dr. Bellair was not the only one who watched Morton's growing devotion +with keen interest. To his aunt it was a constant joy. From the time her +boisterous little nephew had come to rejoice her heart and upset her +immaculate household arrangements, and had played, pleasantly though +tyrannically, with the little girl next door, Miss Orella had dreamed +this romance for him. To have it fail was part of her grief when he left +her, to have it now so visibly coming to completion was a deep delight. + +If she had been blind to his faults, she was at least vividly +conscious of the present sudden growth of virtues. She beamed at him +with affectionate pride, and her manner to Mrs. Pettigrew was one of +barely subdued "I told you so." Indeed, she could not restrain herself +altogether, but spoke to that lady with tender triumph of how lovely +it was to have Morton so gentle and nice. + +"You never did like the boy, I know, but you must admit that he is +behaving beautifully now." + +"I will," said the old lady; "I'll admit it without reservation. He's +behaving beautifully--now. But I'm not going to talk about him--to +you, Orella." So she rolled up her knitting work and marched off. + +"Too bad she's so prejudiced and opinionated," said Miss Elder to +Susie, rather warmly. "I'm real fond of Mrs. Pettigrew, but when she +takes a dislike----" + +Susie was so happy herself that she seemed to walk in an aura of rosy +light. Her Jimmie was so evidently the incarnation of every masculine +virtue and charm that he lent a reflected lustre to other men, even to +her brother. Because of her love for Jimmie, she loved Morton +better--loved everybody better. To have her only brother marry her +dearest friend was wholly pleasant to Susie. + +It was not difficult to wring from Vivian a fair knowledge of how +things stood, for, though reserved by nature, she was utterly unused +to concealing anything, and could not tell an efficient lie if she +wanted to. + +"Are you engaged or are you not, you dear old thing?" demanded Susie. + +And Vivian admitted that there was "an understanding." But Susie +absolutely must not speak of it. + +For a wonder she did not, except to Jimmie. But people seemed to make +up their minds on the subject with miraculous agreement. The general +interest in the manifold successes of Mrs. St. Cloud gave way to this +vivid personal interest, and it was discussed from two sides among +their whole circle of acquaintance. + +One side thought that a splendid girl was being wasted, sacrificed, +thrown away, on a disagreeable, good-for-nothing fellow. The other +side thought the "interesting" Mr. Elder might have done better; they +did not know what he could see in her. + +They, that vaguely important They, before whom we so deeply bow, were +also much occupied in their mind by speculations concerning Mr. +Dykeman and two Possibilities. One quite patently possible, even +probable, giving rise to the complacent "Why, anybody could see +that!" and the other a fascinatingly impossible Possibility of a sort +which allows the even more complacent "Didn't you? Why, I could see it +from the first." + +Mr. Dykeman had been a leading citizen in that new-built town for some +ten years, which constituted him almost the Oldest Inhabitant. He was +reputed to be extremely wealthy, though he never said anything about +it, and neither his clothing nor his cigars reeked of affluence. +Perhaps nomadic chambermaids had spread knowledge of those +silver-backed appurtenances, and the long mirror. Or perhaps it was +not woman's gossip at all, but men's gossip, which has wider base, and +wider circulation, too. + +Mr. Dykeman had certainly "paid attentions" to Miss Elder. Miss Elder +had undeniably brightened and blossomed most becomingly under these +attentions. He had danced with her, he had driven with her, he had +played piquet with her when he might have played whist. To be sure, he +did these things with other ladies, and had done them for years past, +but this really looked as if there might be something in it. + +Mr. Skee, as Mr. Dykeman's oldest friend, was even questioned a little; +but it was not very much use to question Mr. Skee. His manner was not +repellant, and not in the least reserved. He poured forth floods of +information so voluminous and so varied that the recipient was rather +drowned than fed. So opinions wavered as to Mr. Dykeman's intentions. + +Then came this lady of irresistible charm, and the unmarried citizens +of the place fell at her feet as one man. Even the married ones +slanted over a little. + +Mr. Dykeman danced with her, more than he had with Miss Elder. Mr. +Dykeman drove with her, more than he had with Miss Elder. Mr. Dykeman +played piquet with her, and chess, which Miss Elder could not play. +And Miss Elder's little opening petals of ribbon and lace curled up +and withered away; while Mrs. St. Cloud's silken efflorescence, softly +waving and jewel-starred, flourished apace. + +Dr. Bellair had asked Vivian to take a walk with her; and they sat +together, resting, on a high lonely hill, a few miles out of town. + +"It's a great pleasure to see this much of you, Dr. Bellair," said the +girl, feeling really complimented. + +"I'm afraid you won't think so, my dear, when you hear what I have to +say: what I _have_ to say." + +The girl flushed a little. "Are you going to scold me about something? +Have I done anything wrong?" Her eyes smiled bravely. "Go on, Doctor. +I know it will be for my best good." + +"It will indeed, dear child," said the doctor, so earnestly that +Vivian felt a chill of apprehension. + +"I am going to talk to you 'as man to man' as the story books say; as +woman to woman. When I was your age I had been married three years." + +Vivian was silent, but stole out a soft sympathetic hand and slipped it +into the older woman's. She had heard of this early-made marriage, also +early broken; with various dark comments to which she had paid no +attention. + +Dr. Bellair was Dr. Bellair, and she had a reverential affection for +her. + +There was a little silence. The Doctor evidently found it hard to +begin. "You love children, don't you, Vivian?" + +The girl's eyes kindled, and a heavenly smile broke over her face. +"Better than anything in the world," she said. + +"Ever think about them?" asked her friend, her own face whitening as she +spoke. "Think about their lovely little soft helplessness--when you hold +them in your arms and have to do _everything_ for them. Have to go and +turn them over--see that the little ear isn't crumpled--that the covers +are all right. Can't you see 'em, upside down on the bath apron, +grabbing at things, perfectly happy, but prepared to howl when it comes +to dressing? And when they are big enough to love you! Little soft arms +that will hardly go round your neck. Little soft cheeks against yours, +little soft mouths and little soft kisses,--ever think of them?" + +The girl's eyes were like stars. She was looking into the future; her +breath came quickly; she sat quite still. + +The doctor swallowed hard, and went on. "We mostly don't go much +farther than that at first. It's just the babies we want. But you can +look farther--can follow up, year by year, the lovely changing growing +bodies and minds, the confidence and love between you, the pride you +have as health is established, strength and skill developed, and +character unfolds and deepens. + +"Then when they are grown, and sort of catch up, and you have those +splendid young lives about you, intimate strong friends and tender +lovers. And you feel as though you had indeed done something for the +world." + +She stopped, saying no more for a little, watching the girl's awed +shining face. Suddenly that face was turned to her, full of exquisite +sympathy, the dark eyes swimming with sudden tears; and two soft eager +arms held her close. + +"Oh, Doctor! To care like that and not--!" + +"Yes, my dear;" said the doctor, quietly. "And not have any. Not be +able to have any--ever." + +Vivian caught her breath with pitying intensity, but her friend went +on. + +"Never be able to have a child, because I married a man who had +gonorrhea. In place of happy love, lonely pain. In place of +motherhood, disease. Misery and shame, child. Medicine and surgery, +and never any possibility of any child for me." + +The girl was pale with horror. "I--I didn't know--" She tried to say +something, but the doctor burst out impatiently: + +"No! You don't know. I didn't know. Girls aren't taught a word of +what's before them till it's too late--not _then_, sometimes! Women +lose every joy in life, every hope, every capacity for service or +pleasure. They go down to their graves without anyone's telling them +the cause of it all." + +"That was why you--left him?" asked Vivian presently. + +"Yes, I left him. When I found I could not be a mother I determined to +be a doctor, and save other women, if I could." She said this with +such slow, grave emphasis that Vivian turned a sudden startled face to +her, and went white to the lips. + +"I may be wrong," the doctor said, "you have not given me your +confidence in this matter. But it is better, a thousand times better, +that I should make this mistake than for you to make that. You must +not marry Morton Elder." + +Vivian did not admit nor deny. She still wore that look of horror. + +"You think he has--That?" + +"I do not know whether he has gonorrhea or not; it takes a long +microscopic analysis to be sure; but there is every practical +assurance that he's had it, and I know he's had syphilis." + +If Vivian could have turned paler she would have, then. + +"I've heard of--that," she said, shuddering. + +"Yes, the other is newer to our knowledge, far commoner, and really +more dangerous. They are two of the most terrible diseases known to +us; highly contagious, and in the case of syphilis, hereditary. Nearly +three-quarters of the men have one or the other, or both." + +But Vivian was not listening. Her face was buried in her hands. She +crouched low in agonized weeping. + +"Oh, come, come, my dear. Don't take it so hard. There's no harm done +you see, it's not too late." + +"Oh, it _is_ too late! It is!" wailed the girl. "I have promised to +marry him." + +"I don't care if you were at the altar, child; you _haven't_ married +him, and you mustn't." + +"I have given my word!" said the girl dully. She was thinking of +Morton now. Of his handsome face, with it's new expression of +respectful tenderness; of all the hopes they had built together; of +his life, so dependent upon hers for its higher interests. + +She turned to the doctor, her lips quivering. "He _loves_ me!" she +said. "I--we--he says I am all that holds him up, that helps him to +make a newer better life. And he has changed so--I can see it! He says +he has loved me, really, since he was seventeen!" + +The older sterner face did not relax. + +"He told me he had--done wrong. He was honest about it. He said he +wasn't--worthy." + +"He isn't," said Dr. Bellair. + +"But surely I owe some duty to him. He depends on me. And I have +promised--" + +The doctor grew grimmer. "Marriage is for motherhood," she said. "That +is its initial purpose. I suppose you might deliberately forego +motherhood, and undertake a sort of missionary relation to a man, but +that is not marriage." + +"He loves me," said the girl with gentle stubbornness. She saw Morton's +eyes, as she had so often seen them lately; full of adoration and manly +patience. She felt his hand, as she had felt it so often lately, holding +hers, stealing about her waist, sometimes bringing her fingers to his +lips for a strong slow kiss which she could not forget for hours. + +She raised her head. A new wave of feeling swept over her. She saw a +vista of self-sacrificing devotion, foregoing much, forgiving much, +but rejoicing in the companionship of a noble life, a soul rebuilt, a +love that was passionately grateful. Her eyes met those of her friend +fairly. "And I love him!" she said. + +"Will you tell that to your crippled children?" asked Dr. Bellair. +"Will they understand it if they are idiots? Will they see it if they +are blind? Will it satisfy you when they are dead?" + +The girl shrank before her. + +"You _shall_ understand," said the doctor. "This is no case for +idealism and exalted emotion. Do you want a son like Theophile?" + +"I thought you said--they didn't have any." + +"Some don't--that is one result. Another result--of gonorrhea--is to +have children born blind. Their eyes may be saved, with care. But it +is not a motherly gift for one's babies--blindness. You may have years +and years of suffering yourself--any or all of those diseases +'peculiar to women' as we used to call them! And we pitied the men who +'were so good to their invalid wives'! You may have any number of +still-born children, year after year. And every little marred dead +face would remind you that you allowed it! And they may be deformed +and twisted, have all manner of terrible and loathsome afflictions, +they and their children after them, if they have any. And many do! +dear girl, don't you see that's wicked?" + +Vivian was silent, her two hands wrung together; her whole form +shivering with emotion. + +"Don't think that you are 'ruining his life,'" said the doctor kindly. +"He ruined it long ago--poor boy!" + +The girl turned quickly at the note of sympathy. + +"They don't know either," her friend went on. "What could Miss Orella +do, poor little saint, to protect a lively young fellow like that! All +they have in their scatter-brained heads is 'it's naughty but it's +nice!' And so they rush off and ruin their whole lives--and their +wives'--and their children's. A man don't have to be so very wicked, +either, understand. Just one mis-step may be enough for infection." + +"Even if it did break his heart, and yours--even if you both lived +single, he because it is the only decent thing he can do now, you +because of a misguided sense of devotion; that would be better than to +commit this plain sin. Beware of a biological sin, my dear; for it +there is no forgiveness." + +She waited a moment and went on, as firmly and steadily as she would +have held the walls of a wound while she placed the stitches. + +"If you two love each other so nobly and devotedly that it is higher +and truer and more lasting than the ordinary love of men and women, +you might be 'true' to one another for a lifetime, you see. And all +that friendship can do, exalted influence, noble inspiration--that is +open to you." + +Vivian's eyes were wide and shining. She saw a possible future, not +wholly unbearable. + +"Has he kissed you yet?" asked the doctor suddenly. + +"No," she said. "That is--except----" + +"Don't let him. You might catch it. Your friendship must be distant. +Well, shall we be going back? I'm sorry, my dear. I did hate awfully +to do it. But I hated worse to see you go down those awful steps from +which there is no returning." + +"Yes," said Vivian. "Thank you. Won't you go on, please? I'll come +later." + +An hour the girl sat there, with the clear blue sky above her, the +soft steady wind rustling the leaves, the little birds that hopped and +pecked and flirted their tails so near her motionless figure. + +She thought and thought, and through all the tumult of ideas it grew +clearer to her that the doctor was right. She might sacrifice herself. +She had no right to sacrifice her children. + +A feeling of unreasoning horror at this sudden outlook into a field of +unknown evil was met by her clear perception that if she was old +enough to marry, to be a mother, she was surely old enough to know +these things; and not only so, but ought to know them. + +Shy, sensitive, delicate in feeling as the girl was, she had a fair +and reasoning mind. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +DETERMINATION. + + You may shut your eyes with a bandage, + The while world vanishes soon; + You may open your eyes at a knothole + And see the sun and moon. + + +It must have grieved anyone who cared for Andrew Dykeman, to see Mrs. +St. Cloud's manner toward him change with his changed circumstances--she +had been so much with him, had been so kind to him; kinder than Carston +comment "knew for a fact," but not kinder than it surmised. + +Then, though his dress remained as quietly correct, his face assumed a +worn and anxious look, and he no longer offered her long auto rides or +other expensive entertainment. She saw men on the piazza stop talking +as he came by, and shake their heads as they looked after him; but no +one would tell her anything definite till she questioned Mr. Skee. + +"I am worried about Mr. Dykeman," she said to this ever-willing +confidant, beckoning him to a chair beside her. + +A chair, to the mind of Mr. Skee, seemed to be for pictorial uses, +only valuable as part of the composition. He liked one to stand +beside, to put a foot on, to lean over from behind, arms on the back; +to tip up in front of him as if he needed a barricade; and when he was +persuaded to sit in one, it was either facing the back, cross-saddle +and bent forward, or--and this was the utmost decorum he was able to +approach--tipped backward against the wall. + +"He does not look well," said the lady, "you are old friends--do tell +me; if it is anything wherein a woman's sympathy would be of service?" + +"I'm afraid not, Ma'am," replied Mr. Skee darkly. "Andy's hard hit in +a worse place than his heart. I wouldn't betray a friend's confidence +for any money, Ma'am; but this is all over town. It'll go hard with +Andy, I'm afraid, at his age." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she whispered. "So sorry! But surely with a man of +his abilities it will be only a temporary reverse!--" + +"Dunno 'bout the abilities--not in this case. Unless he has ability +enough to discover a mine bigger'n the one he's lost! You see, Ma'am, +it's this way," and he sunk his voice to a confidential rumble. "Andy +had a bang-up mine, galena ore--not gold, you understand, but often +pays better. And he kept on putting the money it made back into it to +make more. Then, all of a sudden, it petered out! No more eggs in that +basket. 'Course he can't sell it--now. And last year he refused half a +million. Andy's sure down on his luck." + +"But he will recover! You western men are so wonderful! He will find +another mine!" + +"O yes, he _may_! Certainly he _may_, Ma'am. Not that he found this +one--he just bought it." + +"Well--he can buy another, there are more, aren't there?" + +"Sure there are! There's as good mines in the earth as ever was +salted--that's my motto! But Andy's got no more money to buy any +mines. What he had before he inherited. No, Ma'am," said Mr. Skee, +with a sigh. "I'm afraid its all up with Andy Dykeman financially!" + +This he said more audibly; and Miss Elder and Miss Pettigrew, sitting in +their parlor, could not help hearing. Miss Elder gave a little gasp and +clasped her hands tightly, but Miss Pettigrew arose, and came outside. + +"What's this about Mr. Dykeman?" she questioned abruptly. "Has he had +losses?" + +"There now," said Mr. Skee, remorsefully, "I never meant to give him +away like that. Mrs. Pettigrew, Ma'am, I must beg you not to mention it +further. I was only satisfyin' this lady here, in answer to sympathetic +anxiety, as to what was making Andrew H. Dykeman so down in the mouth. +Yes'm--he's lost every cent he had in the world, or is likely to have. +Of course, among friends, he'll get a job fast enough, bookkeepin', or +something like that--though he's not a brilliant man, Andy isn't. You +needn't to feel worried, Mrs. Pettigrew; he'll draw a salary all right, +to the end of time; but he's out of the game of Hot Finance." + +Mrs. Pettigrew regarded the speaker with a scintillating eye. He +returned her look with unflinching seriousness. "Have a chair, Ma'am," +he said. "Let me bring out your rocker. Sit down and chat with us." + +"No, thanks," said the old lady. "It seems to me a little--chilly, out +here. I'll go in." + +She went in forthwith, to find Miss Orella furtively wiping her eyes. + +"What are you crying about, Orella Elder! Just because a man's lost +his money? That happens to most of 'em now and then." + +"Yes, I know--but you heard what he said. Oh, I can't believe it! To +think of his having to be provided for by his friends--and having to +take a small salary--after being so well off! I am so sorry for him!" + +Miss Elder's sorrow was increased to intensity by noting Mrs. St. +Cloud's changed attitude. Mr. Dykeman made no complaint, uttered no +protest, gave no confidences; but it soon appeared that he was working +in an office; and furthermore that this position was given him by Mr. +Skee. + +That gentleman, though discreetly reticent as to his own affairs, now +appeared in far finer raiment than he had hitherto affected; developed +a pronounced taste in fobs and sleeve buttons; and a striking harmony +in socks and scarfs. + +Men talked openly of him; no one seemed to know anything definite, but +all were certain that "Old Skee must have struck it rich." + +Mr. Skee kept his own counsel; but became munificent in gifts and +entertainments. He produced two imposing presents for Susie; one a +"betrothal gift," the other a conventional wedding present. + +"This is a new one to me," he said when he offered her the first; "but +I understand it's the thing. In fact I'm sure of it--for I've +consulted Mrs. St. Cloud and she helped me to buy 'em." + +He consulted Mrs. St. Cloud about a dinner he proposed giving to Mr. +Saunders--"one of these Farewell to Egypt affairs," he said. "Not that +I imagine Jim Saunders ever was much of a--Egyptian--but then----!" + +He consulted her also about Vivian--did she not think the girl looked +worn and ill? Wouldn't it be a good thing to send her off for a trip +somewhere? + +He consulted her about a library; said he had always wanted a library +of his own, but the public ones were somewhat in his way. How many +books did she think a man ought really to own--to spend his declining +years among. Also, and at considerable length he consulted her about +the best possible place of residence. + +"I'm getting to be an old man, Mrs. St. Cloud," he remarked +meditatively; "and I'm thinking of buying and building somewhere. But +it's a ticklish job. Lo! these many years I've been perfectly contented +to live wherever I was at; and now that I'm considering a real +Home--blamed if I know where to put it! I'm distracted between A Model +Farm, and A Metropolitan Residence. Which would you recommend, Ma'am?" + +The lady's sympathy and interest warmed to Mr. Skee as they cooled to +Mr. Dykeman, not with any blameworthy or noticeable suddenness, but in +soft graduations, steady and continuous. The one wore his new glories +with an air of modest pride; making no boast of affluence; and the +other accepted that which had befallen him without rebellion. + +Miss Orella's tender heart was deeply touched. As fast as Mrs. St. +Cloud gave the cold shoulder to her friend, she extended a warm hand; +when they chatted about Mr. Skee's visible success, she spoke bravely +of the beauty of limited means; and when it was time to present her +weekly bills to the boarders, she left none in Mr. Dykeman's room. +This he took for an oversight at first; but when he found the omission +repeated on the following week, he stood by his window smiling +thoughtfully for some time, and then went in search of Miss Orella. + +She sat by her shaded lamp, alone, knitting a silk tie which was +promptly hidden as he entered. He stood by the door looking at her in +spite of her urging him to be seated, observing the warm color in her +face, the graceful lines of her figure, the gentle smile that was so +unfailingly attractive. Then he came forward, calmly inquiring, "Why +haven't you sent me my board bill?" + +She lifted her eyes to his, and dropped them, flushing. "I--excuse me; +but I thought----" + +"You thought I couldn't conveniently pay it?" + +"O please excuse me! I didn't mean to be--to do anything you wouldn't +like. But I did hear that you were--temporarily embarrassed. And I +want you to feel sure, Mr. Dykeman, that to your real friends it makes +no difference in the _least_. And if--for a while that is--it should +be a little more convenient to--to defer payment, please feel +perfectly at liberty to wait!" + +She stood there blushing like a girl, her sweet eyes wet with shining +tears that did not fall, full of tender sympathy for his misfortune. + +"Have you heard that I've lost all my money?" he asked. + +She nodded softly. + +"And that I can't ever get it back--shall have to do clerk's work at a +clerk's salary--as long as I live?" + +Again she nodded. + +He took a step or two back and forth in the quiet parlor, and returned +to her. + +"Would you marry a poor man?" he asked in a low tender voice. "Would you +marry a man not young, not clever, not rich, but who loved you dearly? +You are the sweetest woman I ever saw, Orella Elder--will you marry me?" + +She came to him, and he drew her close with a long sigh of utter +satisfaction. "Now I am rich indeed," he said softly. + +She held him off a little. "Don't talk about being rich. It doesn't +matter. If you like to live here--why this house will keep us both. If +you'd rather have a little one--I can live _so_ happily--on _so_ +little! And there is my own little home in Bainville--perhaps you +could find something to do there. I don't care the least in the +world--so long as you love me!" + +"I've loved you since I first set eyes on you," he answered her. "To +see the home you've made here for all of us was enough to make any man +love you. But I thought awhile back that I hadn't any chance--you +weren't jealous of that Artificial Fairy, were you?" + +And conscientiously Miss Orella lied. + +Carston society was pleased, but not surprised at Susie's engagement; it +was both pleased and surprised when Miss Elder's was announced. Some +there were who protested that they had seen it from the beginning; but +disputatious friends taxed them with having prophesied quite otherwise. + +Some thought Miss Elder foolish to take up with a man of full middle +age, and with no prospects; and others attributed the foolishness to +Mr. Dykeman, in marrying an old maid. Others again darkly hinted that +he knew which side his bread was buttered--"and first-rate butter, +too." Adding that they "did hate to see a man sit around and let his +wife keep boarders!" + +In Bainville circles the event created high commotion. That one of their +accumulated maidens, part of the Virgin Sacrifice of New England, which +finds not even a Minotaur--had thus triumphantly escaped from their +ranks and achieved a husband; this was flatly heretical. The fact that +he was a poor man was the only mitigating circumstance, leaving it open +to the more captious to criticize the lady sharply. + +But the calm contentment of Andrew Dykeman's face, and the decorous +bliss of Miss Elder's were untroubled by what anyone thought or said. + +Little Susie was delighted, and teased for a double wedding; without +success. "One was enough to attend to, at one time," her aunt replied. + + * * * * * + +In all this atmosphere of wooings and weddings, Vivian walked apart, +as one in a bad dream that could never end. That day when Dr. Bellair +left her on the hill, left her alone in a strange new horrible world, +was still glaring across her consciousness, the end of one life, the +bar to any other. Its small events were as clear to her as those which +stand out so painfully on a day of death; all that led up to the +pleasant walk, when an eager girl mounted the breezy height, and a +sad-faced woman came down from it. + +She had waited long and came home slowly, dreading to see a face she +knew, dreading worst of all to see Morton. The boy she had known so +long, the man she was beginning to know, had changed to an +unbelievable horror; and the love which had so lately seemed real to +her recoiled upon her heart with a sense of hopeless shame. + +She wished--eagerly, desperately, she wished--she need never see him +again. She thought of the man's resource of running away--if she could +just _go_, go at once, and write to him from somewhere. + +Distant Bainville seemed like a haven of safety; even the decorous, +narrow, monotony of its dim life had a new attraction. These terrors +were not in Bainville, surely. Then the sickening thought crept in that +perhaps they were--only they did not know it. Besides, she had no money +to go with. If only she had started that little school sooner! Write to +her father for money she would not. No, she must bear it here. + +The world was discolored in the girl's eyes. Love had become a horror +and marriage impossible. She pushed the idea from her, impotently, as +one might push at a lava flow. + +In her wide reading she had learned in a vague way of "evil"--a +distant undescribed evil which was in the world, and which must be +avoided. She had known that there was such a thing as "sin," and +abhorred the very thought of it. + +Morton's penitential confessions had given no details; she had +pictured him only as being "led astray," as being "fast," even perhaps +"wicked." Wickedness could be forgiven; and she had forgiven him, +royally. But wickedness was one thing, disease was another. +Forgiveness was no cure. + +The burden of new knowledge so distressed her that she avoided the +family entirely that evening, avoided Susie, went to her grandmother +and asked if she might come and sleep on the lounge in her room. + +"Surely, my child, glad to have you," said Mrs. Pettigrew +affectionately. "Better try my bed--there's room a-plenty." + +The girl lay long with those old arms about her, crying quietly. Her +grandmother asked no questions, only patted her softly from time to +time, and said, "There! There!" in a pleasantly soothing manner. +After some time she remarked, "If you want to say things, my dear, +say 'em--anything you please." + +In the still darkness they talked long and intimately; and the wise +old head straightened things out somewhat for the younger one. + +"Doctors don't realize how people feel about these matters," said Mrs. +Pettigrew. "They are so used to all kinds of ghastly things they forget +that other folks can't stand 'em. She was too hard on you, dearie." + +But Vivian defended the doctor. "Oh, no, Grandma. She did +it beautifully. And it hurt her so. She told me about her +own--disappointment." + +"Yes, I remember her as a girl, you see. A fine sweet girl she was +too. It was an awful blow--and she took it hard. It has made her +bitter, I think, perhaps; that and the number of similar cases she had +to cope with." + +"But, Grandma--is it--_can_ it be as bad as she said? Seventy-five per +cent! Three-quarters of--of everybody!" + +"Not everybody dear, thank goodness. Our girls are mostly clean, and +they save the race, I guess." + +"I don't even want to _see_ a man again!" said the girl with low +intensity. + +"Shouldn't think you would, at first. But, dear child--just brace +yourself and look it fair in the face! The world's no worse than it +was yesterday--just because you know more about it!" + +"No," Vivian admitted, "But it's like uncovering a charnel house!" she +shuddered. + +"Never saw a charnel house myself," said the old lady, "even with the +lid on. But now see here child; you mustn't feel as if all men were +Unspeakable Villains. They are just ignorant boys--and nobody ever +tells 'em the truth. Nobody used to know it, for that matter. All this +about gonorrhea is quite newly discovered--it has set the doctors all +by the ears. Having women doctors has made a difference too--lots of +difference." + +"Besides," she went on after a pause, "things are changing very fast +now, since the general airing began. Dr. Prince Morrow in New York, +with that society of his--(I can never remember the name--makes me +think of tooth brushes) has done much; and the popular magazines have +taken it up. You must have seen some of those articles, Vivian." + +"I have," the girl said, "but I couldn't bear to read them--ever." + +"That's it!" responded her grandmother, tartly; "we bring up girls to +think it is not proper to know anything about the worst danger before +them. Proper!--Why my dear child, the young girls are precisely the ones +_to_ know! it's no use to tell a woman who has buried all her +children--or wishes she had!--that it was all owing to her ignorance, +and her husband's. You have to know beforehand if it's to do you any +good." + +After awhile she continued: "Women are waking up to this all over the +country, now. Nice women, old and young. The women's clubs and +congresses are taking it up, as they should. Some states have passed +laws requiring a medical certificate--a clean bill of health--to go +with a license to marry. You can see that's reasonable! A man has to +be examined to enter the army or navy, even to get his life insured; +Marriage and Parentage are more important than those things! And we +are beginning to teach children and young people what they ought to +know. There's hope for us!" + +"But Grandma--it's so awful--about the children." + +"Yes dear, yes. It's pretty awful. But don't feel as if we were all on +the brink of perdition. Remember that we've got a whole quarter of the +men to bank on. That's a good many, in this country. We're not so bad +as Europe--not yet--in this line. Then just think of this, child. We +have lived, and done splendid things all these years, even with this +load of disease on us. Think what we can do when we're rid of it! And +that's in the hands of woman, my dear--as soon as we know enough. +Don't be afraid of knowledge. When we all know about this we can stop +it! Think of that. We can religiously rid the world of all +these--'undesirable citizens.'" + +"How, Grandma?" + +"Easy enough, my dear. By not marrying them." + +There was a lasting silence. + +Grandma finally went to sleep, making a little soft whistling sound +through her parted lips; but Vivian lay awake for long slow hours. + + * * * * * + +It was one thing to make up her own mind, though not an easy one, by +any means; it was quite another to tell Morton. + +He gave her no good opportunity. He did not say again, "Will you marry +me?" So that she could say, "No," and be done with it. He did not even +say, "When will you marry me?" to which she could answer "Never!" He +merely took it for granted that she was going to, and continued to +monopolize her as far as possible, with all pleasant and comfortable +attentions. + +She forced the situation even more sharply than she wished, by turning +from him with a shiver when he met her on the stairs one night and +leaned forward as if to kiss her. + +He stopped short. + +"What is the matter, Vivian--are you ill?" + +"No--" She could say nothing further, but tried to pass him. + +"Look here--there _is_ something. You've been--different--for several +days. Have I done anything you don't like?" + +"Oh, Morton!" His question was so exactly to the point; and so +exquisitely inadequate! He had indeed. + +"I care too much for you to let anything stand between us now," he +went on. + +"Come, there's no one in the upper hall--come and 'tell me the +worst.'" + +"As well now as ever." thought the girl. Yet when they sat on the long +window seat, and he turned his handsome face toward her, with that +newer, better look on it, she could not believe that this awful thing +was true. + +"Now then--What is wrong between us?" he said. + +She answered only, "I will tell you the worst, Morton. I cannot marry +you--ever." + +He whitened to the lips, but asked quietly, "Why?" + +"Because you have--Oh, I _cannot_ tell you!" + +"I have a right to know, Vivian. You have made a man of me. I love you +with my whole heart. What have I done--that I have not told you?" + +Then she recalled his contrite confessions; and contrasted what he had +told her with what he had not; with the unspeakable fate to which he +would have consigned her--and those to come; and a sort of holy rage +rose within her. + +"You never told me of the state of your health, Morton." + +It was done. She looked to see him fall at her feet in utter +abashment, but he did nothing of the kind. What he did do astonished +her beyond measure. He rose to his feet, with clenched fists. + +"Has that damned doctor been giving me away?" he demanded. "Because if +he has I'll kill him!" + +"He has not," said Vivian. "Not by the faintest hint, ever. And is +_that_ all you think of?-- + +"Good-bye." + +She rose to leave him, sick at heart. + +Then he seemed to realize that she was going; that she meant it. + +"Surely, surely!" he cried, "you won't throw me over now! Oh, Vivian! +I told you I had been wild--that I wasn't fit to touch your little +slippers! And I wasn't going to ask you to marry me till I felt sure +this was all done with. All the rest of my life was yours, darling--is +yours. You have made me over--surely you won't leave me now!" + +"I must," she said. + +He looked at her despairingly. If he lost her he lost not only a +woman, but the hope of a life. Things he had never thought about +before had now grown dear to him; a home, a family, an honorable place +in the world, long years of quiet happiness. + +"I can't lose you!" he said. "I _can't_!" + +She did not answer, only sat there with a white set face and her hands +tight clenched in her lap. + +"Where'd you get this idea anyhow?" he burst out again. "I believe +it's that woman doctor! What does she know!" + +"Look here, Morton," said Vivian firmly. "It is not a question of who +told me. The important thing is that it's--true! And I cannot marry +you." + +"But Vivian--" he pleaded, trying to restrain the intensity of his +feeling; "men get over these things. They do, really. It's not so +awful as you seem to think. It's very common. And I'm nearly well. I +was going to wait a year or two yet--to make sure--. Vivian! I'd cut +my hand off before I'd hurt you!" + +There was real agony in his voice, and her heart smote her; but there +was something besides her heart ruling the girl now. + +"I am sorry--I'm very sorry," she said dully. "But I will not marry +you." + +"You'll throw me over--just for that! Oh, Vivian don't--you can't. I'm +no worse than other men. It seems so terrible to you just because +you're so pure and white. It's only what they call--wild oats, you +know. Most men do it." + +She shook her head. + +"And will you punish me--so cruelly--for that? I can't live without +you, Vivian--I won't!" + +"It is not a question of punishing you, Morton," she said gently. "Nor +myself. It is not the sin I am considering. It is the consequences!" + +He felt a something high and implacable in the gentle girl; something +he had never found in her before. He looked at her with despairing +eyes. Her white grace, her stately little ways, her delicate beauty, +had never seemed so desirable. + +"Good God, Vivian. You can't mean it. Give me time. Wait for me. I'll +be straight all the rest of my life--I mean it. I'll be true to you, +absolutely. I'll do anything you say--only don't give me up!" + +She felt old, hundreds of years old, and as remote as far mountains. + +"It isn't anything you can do--in the rest of your life, my poor boy! +It is what you have done--in the first of it!... Oh, Morton! It isn't +right to let us grow up without knowing! You never would have done it +_if_ you'd known--would you? Can't you--can't we--do something +to--stop this awfulness?" + +Her tender heart suffered in the pain she was inflicting, suffered too +in her own loss; for as she faced the thought of final separation she +found that her grief ran back into the far-off years of childhood. But +she had made up her mind with a finality only the more absolute +because it hurt her. Even what he said of possible recovery did not +move her--the very thought of marriage had become impossible. + +"I shall never marry," she added, with a shiver; thinking that he +might derive some comfort from the thought; but he replied with a +bitter derisive little laugh. He did not rise to her appeal to "help +the others." So far in life the happiness of Morton Elder had been his +one engrossing care; and now the unhappiness of Morton Elder assumed +even larger proportions. + +That bright and hallowed future to which he had been looking forward +so earnestly had been suddenly withdrawn from him; his good +resolutions, his "living straight" for the present, were wasted. + +"You women that are so superior," he said, "that'll turn a man down +for things that are over and done with--that he's sorry for and +ashamed of--do you know what you drive a man to! What do you think's +going to become of me if you throw me over!" + +He reached out his hands to her in real agony. "Vivian! I love you! I +can't live without you! I can't be good without you! And you love me a +little--don't you?" + +She did. She could not deny it. She loved to shut her eyes to the +future, to forgive the past, to come to those outstretched arms and +bury everything beneath that one overwhelming phrase--"I love you!" + +But she heard again Dr. Bellair's clear low accusing voice--"Will you +tell that to your crippled children?" + +She rose to her feet. "I cannot help it, Morton. I am sorry--you will +not believe how sorry I am! But I will never marry you." + +A look of swift despair swept over his face. It seemed to darken +visibly as she watched. An expression of bitter hatred came upon him; +of utter recklessness. + +All that the last few months had seemed to bring of higher better +feeling fell from him; and even as she pitied him she thought with a +flicker of fear of how this might have happened--after marriage. + +"Oh, well!" he said, rising to his feet. "I wish you could have made +up your mind sooner, that's all. I'll take myself off now." + +She reached out her hands to him. + +"Morton! Please!--don't go away feeling so hardly! I am--fond of +you--I always was.--Won't you let me help you--to bear it--! Can't we +be--friends?" + +Again he laughed that bitter little laugh. "No, Miss Lane," he said. "We +distinctly cannot. This is good-bye--You won't change your mind--again?" + +She shook her head in silence, and he left her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THEREAFTER. + + If I do right, though heavens fall, + And end all light and laughter; + Though black the night and ages long, + Bitter the cold--the tempest strong-- + If I do right, and brave it all-- + The sun shall rise thereafter! + + +The inaccessibility of Dr. Hale gave him, in the eye of Mrs. St. +Cloud, all the attractiveness of an unscaled peak to the true mountain +climber. Here was a man, an unattached man, living next door to her, +whom she had not even seen. Her pursuance of what Mr. Skee announced +to his friends to be "one of these Platonic Friendships," did not +falter; neither did her interest in other relations less philosophic. +Mr. Dykeman's precipitate descent from the class of eligibles was more +of a disappointment to her than she would admit even to herself; his +firm, kind friendliness had given a sense of comfort, of achieved +content that her restless spirit missed. + +But Dr. Hale, if he had been before inaccessible, had now become so +heavily fortified, so empanoplied in armor offensive and defensive, +that even Mrs. Pettigrew found it difficult to obtain speech with him. + +That his best friend, so long supporting him in cheerful bachelorhood, +should have thus late laid down his arms, was bitterly resented. That +Mr. Skee, free lance of years standing, and risen victor from several +"stricken fields," should show signs of capitulation, annoyed him +further. Whether these feelings derived their intensity from another, +which he entirely refused to acknowledge, is matter for the +psychologist, and Dr. Hale avoided all psychologic self-examination. + +With the boys he was always a hero. They admired his quiet strength +and the unbroken good nature that was always presented to those about +him, whatever his inner feelings. + +Mr. Peters burst forth to the others one day, in tones of impassioned +admiration. + +"By George, fellows," he said, "you know how nice Doc was last night?" + +"Never saw him when he wasn't," said Archie. + +"Don't interrupt Mr. Peters," drawled Percy. "He's on the brink of a +scientific discovery. Strange how these secrets of nature can lie +unrevealed about us so long--and then suddenly burst upon our ken!" + +Mr. Peters grinned affably. "That's all right, but I maintain my +assertion; whatever the general attraction of our noble host, you'll +admit that on the special occasion of yesterday evening, which we +celebrated to a late hour by innocent games of cards--he was--as +usual--the soul of--of----" + +"Affability?" suggested Percy. + +"Precisely!" Peters admitted. "If there is a well-chosen word which +perfectly describes the manner of Dr. Richard Hale--it is affable! +Thank you, sir, thank you. Well, what I wish to announce, so that you +can all of you get down on your knees at once and worship, is that all +last evening he--had a toothache--a bad toothache!" + +"My word!" said Archie, and remained silent. + +"Oh, come now," Percy protested, "that's against nature. Have a +toothache and not _mention_ it? Not even mention it--without +exaggeration! Why Archimedes couldn't do that! Or--Sandalphon--or any +of them!" + +"How'd you learn the facts, my son? Tell us that." + +"Heard him on the 'phone making an appointment. 'Yes;' 'since noon +yesterday,' 'yes, pretty severe.' '11:30? You can't make it earlier? +All right.' I'm just mentioning it to convince you fellows that you +don't appreciate your opportunities. There was some exceptional Female +once--they said 'to know her was a liberal education.' What would you +call it to live with Dr. Hale?" + +And they called it every fine thing they could think of; for these +boys knew better than anyone else, the effect of that association. + +His patients knew him as wise, gentle, efficient, bringing a sense of +hope and assurance by the mere touch of that strong hand; his +professional associates in the town knew him as a good practitioner +and friend, and wider medical circles, readers of his articles in the +professional press had an even higher opinion of his powers. + +Yet none of these knew Richard Hale. None saw him sitting late in his +office, the pages of his book unturned, his eyes on the red spaces of +the fire. No one was with him on those night tramps that left but an +hour or two of sleep to the long night, and made that sleep irresistible +from self-enforced fatigue. He had left the associations of his youth +and deliberately selected this far-off mountain town to build the life +he chose; and if he found it unsatisfying no one was the wiser. + +His successive relays of boys, young fellows fresh from the East, coming +from year to year and going from year to year as business called them, +could and did give good testimony as to the home side of his character, +however. It was not in nature that they should speculate about him. As +they fell in love and out again with the facility of so many Romeos, +they discoursed among themselves as to his misogyny. + +"He certainly has a grouch on women," they would admit. "That's the +one thing you can't talk to him about--shuts up like a clam. Of +course, he'll let you talk about your own feelings and experiences, +but you might as well talk to the side of a hill. I wonder what did +happen to him?" + +They made no inquiry, however. It was reported that a minister's wife, +a person of determined character, had had the courage of her +inquisitiveness, and asked him once, "Why is it that you have never +married, Dr. Hale?" And that he had replied, "It is owing to my +dislike of the meddlesomeness of women." He lived his own life, +unquestioned, now more markedly withdrawn than ever, coming no more to +The Cottonwoods. + +Even when Morton Elder left, suddenly and without warning, to the +great grief of his aunt and astonishment of his sister, their medical +neighbor still "sulked in his tent"--or at least in his office. + +Morton's departure had but one explanation; it must be that Vivian had +refused him, and she did not deny it. + +"But why, Vivian, why? He has improved so--it was just getting lovely +to see how nice he was getting. And we all thought you were so happy." +Thus the perplexed Susie. And Vivian found herself utterly unable to +explain to that happy little heart, on the brink of marriage, why she +had refused her brother. + +Miss Orella was even harder to satisfy. "It's not as if you were a +foolish changeable young girl, my dear. And you've known Morton all +your life--he was no stranger to you. It breaks my heart, Vivian. +Can't you reconsider?" + +The girl shook her head. + +"I'm awfully sorry, Miss Orella. Please believe that I did it for the +best--and that it was very hard for me, too." + +"But, Vivian! What can be the reason? I don't think you understand +what a beautiful influence you have on the boy. He has improved so, +since he has been here. And he was going to get a position here in +town--he told me so himself--and really settle down. And now he's +_gone_. Just off and away, as he used to be--and I never shall feel +easy about him again." + +Miss Orella was frankly crying; and it wrung the girl's heart to know +the pain she was causing; not only to Morton, and to herself, but to +these others. + +Susie criticised her with frankness. + +"I know you think you are right, Vivian, you always do--you and that +conscience of yours. But I really think you had gone too far to draw +back, Jimmie saw him that night he went away--and he said he looked +awfully. And he really was changed so--beginning to be so thoroughly +nice. Whatever was the matter? I think you ought to tell me, Vivian, +I'm his sister, and--being engaged and all--perhaps I could straighten +it out." + +And she was as nearly angry as her sunny nature allowed, when her +friend refused to give any reason, beyond that she thought it right. + +Her aunt did not criticise, but pleaded. "It's not too late, I'm sure, +Vivian. A word from you would bring him back in a moment. Do speak it, +Vivian--do! Put your pride in your pocket, child, and don't lose a +lifetime's happiness for some foolish quarrel." + +Miss Orella, like Susie, was at present sure that marriage must mean a +lifetime's happiness. And Vivian looked miserably from one to the other +of these loving women-folk, and could not defend herself with the truth. + +Mrs. Pettigrew took up the cudgels for her. She was not going to have +her favorite grandchild thus condemned and keep silence. "Anybody'd +think Vivian had married the man and then run away with another one!" +she said tartly. "Pity if a girl can't change her mind before +marrying--she's held down pretty close afterward. An engagement isn't +a wedding, Orella Elder." + +"But you don't consider the poor boy's feelings in the least, Mrs. +Pettigrew." + +"No, I don't," snapped the old lady. "I consider the poor girl's. I'm +willing to bet as much as you will that his feelings aren't any worse +than hers. If _he'd_ changed his mind and run off and left _her_, I +warrant you two wouldn't have been so hard on him." + +Evading this issue, Miss Orella wiped her eyes, and said: "Heaven +knows where he is now. And I'm afraid he won't write--he never did +write much, and now he's just heartbroken. I don't know as I'd have +seen him at all if I hadn't been awake and heard him rushing +downstairs. You've no idea how he suffers." + +"I don't see as the girl's to blame that he hadn't decency enough to +say good-bye to the aunt that's been a mother to him; or to write to +her, as he ought to. A person don't need to forget _all_ their duty +because they've got the mitten." + +Vivian shrank away from them all. Her heart ached intolerably. +She had not realized how large a part in her life this constant +admiration and attention had become. She missed the outward +agreeableness, and the soft tide of affection, which had risen +more and more warmly about her. From her earliest memories she +had wished for affection--affection deep and continuous, tender +and with full expression. She had been too reserved to show her +feeling, too proud by far to express it, but under that delicate +reticence of hers lay always that deep longing to love and to be +loved wholly. + +Susie had been a comfort always, in her kittenish affection and +caressing ways, but Susie was doubly lost, both in her new absorption +and now in this estrangement. + +Then, to bring pain to Miss Orella, who had been so kind and sweet to +her from earliest childhood, to hurt her so deeply, now, to mingle in +her cup of happiness this grief and anxiety, made the girl suffer +keenly. Jimmie, of course, was able to comfort Susie. He told her it +was no killing matter anyhow, and that Morton would inevitably console +himself elsewhere. "He'll never wear the willow for any girl, my dear. +Don't you worry about him." + +Also, Mr. Dykeman comforted Miss Orella, not only with wise words, but +with his tender sympathy and hopefulness. But no one could comfort +Vivian. + +Even Dr. Bellair seemed to her present sensitiveness an alien, cruel +power. She had come like the angel with the flaming sword to stand +between her and what, now that it was gone, began to look like Paradise. + +She quite forgot that she had always shrunk from Morton when he made +love too warmly, that she had been far from wholly pleased with him +when he made his appearance there, that their engagement, so far as +they had one, was tentative--"sometime, when I am good enough" not +having arrived. The unreasoning voice of the woman's nature within her +had answered, though but partially, to the deep call of the man's; and +now she missed more than she would admit to herself the tenderness +that was gone. + +She had her intervals of sharp withdrawal from the memory of that +tenderness, of deep thanksgiving for her escape; but fear of a danger +only prophesied, does not obliterate memory of joys experienced. + +Her grandmother watched her carefully, saying little. She forced no +confidence, made no comment, was not obtrusively affectionate, but +formed a definite decision and conveyed it clearly to Dr. Bellair. + +"Look here, Jane Bellair, you've upset Vivian's dish, and quite right; +it's a good thing you did, and I don't know as you could have done it +easier." + +"I couldn't have done it harder--that I know of," the doctor answered. +"I'd sooner operate on a baby--without an anaesthetic--than tell a +thing like that--to a girl like that. But it had to be done; and +nobody else would." + +"You did perfectly right. I'm thankful enough, I promise you; if you +hadn't I should have had to--and goodness knows what a mess I'd have +made. But look here, the girl's going all to pieces. Now we've got to +do something for her, and do it quick." + +"I know that well enough," answered her friend, "and I set about it +even before I made the incision. You've seen that little building +going up on the corner of High and Stone Streets?" + +"That pretty little thing with the grass and flowers round it?" + +"Yes--they got the flowers growing while the decorators finished +inside. It's a first-rate little kindergarten. I've got a list of +scholars all arranged for, and am going to pop the girl into it so +fast she can't refuse. Not that I think she will." + +"Who did it?" demanded Mrs. Pettigrew. "That man Skee?" + +"Mr. Skee has had something to do with it," replied the doctor, +guardedly; "but he doesn't want his name mentioned." + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + +Vivian made no objection, though she was too listless to take up work +with enthusiasm. + +As a prescription nothing could have worked better. Enough small +pupils were collected to pay the rent of the pretty place, and leave a +modest income for her. + +Dr. Bellair gathered together the mothers and aunts for a series of +afternoon talks in the convenient building, Vivian assisting, and +roused much interest among them. The loving touch of little hands, the +pleasure of seeing the gay contentment of her well-ordered charges, +began to lighten the girl's heart at last. They grew so fond of her +that the mothers were jealous, but she played with and taught them so +wisely, and the youngsters were so much improved by it, that no parent +withdrew her darling. + +Further than that, the new interest, the necessary reading and study, +above all the study hours of occupation acted most beneficently, +slowly, but surely steadying the nerves and comforting the heart. + +There is a telling Oriental phrase describing sorrow: "And the whole +world became strait unto him." The sense of final closing down of +life, of a dull, long, narrow path between her and the grave, which +had so oppressed the girl's spirit, now changed rapidly. Here was room +to love at least, and she radiated a happy and unselfish affection +among the little ones. Here was love in return, very sweet and honest, +if shallow. Here was work; something to do, something to think about; +both in her hours with the children and those spent in study. Her work +took her out of the house, too; away from Susie and her aunt, with +their happy chatter and endless white needlework, and the gleeful +examination of presents. + +Never before had she known the blessed relief of another place to go to. + +When she left The Cottonwoods, as early as possible, and placed her +key in the door of the little gray house sitting among the roses, she +felt a distinct lightening of the heart. This was hers. Not her +father's, not Miss Elder's; not anybody's but hers--as long as she +could earn the rent. + +She paid her board, too, in spite of deep and pained remonstrance, +forcing Miss Elder to accept it by the ultimatum "would you rather +make me go away and board somewhere else?" She could not accept favors +where she was condemned. + +This, too, gave her a feeling hitherto inexperienced, deep and +inspiring. She began to hold her graceful head insensibly higher, to +walk with a freer step. Life was not ended after all, though Love had +gone. She might not be happy, but she might be useful and independent. + +Then Dr. Bellair, who had by quiet friendliness and wise waiting, +regained much of her former place with the girl, asked her to +undertake, as a special favor to her, the care of a class of rather +delicate children and young girls, in physical culture. + +"Of course, Johanna Johnson is perfectly reliable and an excellent +teacher. I don't know a better; but their mothers will feel easier if +there's someone they know on the spot. You keep order and see that they +don't overdo. You'll have to go through their little exercises with +them, you see. I can't pay you anything for it; but it's only part of +two afternoons in the week--and it won't hurt you at any rate." + +Vivian was more than glad to do something for the doctor, as well as to +extend her friendship among older children; also glad of anything to +further fill her time. To be alone and idle was to think and suffer. + +Mrs. Pettigrew came in with Dr. Bellair one afternoon to watch the +exercises. + +"I don't see but what Vivian does the tricks as well as any of them," +said her grandmother. + +"She does beautifully," the doctor answered. "And her influence with +the children is just what they needed. You see there's no romping and +foolishness, and she sets the pace--starts them off when they're shy. +I'm extremely obliged to her." + +Mrs. Pettigrew watched Vivian's rhythmic movements, her erect carriage +and swinging step, her warm color and sparkling eyes, as she led the +line of happy youngsters and then turned upon the doctor. + +"Huh!" she said. + +At Susie's wedding, her childhood's friend was so far forgiven as to +be chief bridesmaid, but seeing the happiness before her opened again +the gates of her own pain. + +When it was all over, and the glad young things were safely despatched +upon their ribboned way, when all the guests had gone, when Mrs. St. +Cloud felt the need of air and with the ever-gallant Mr. Skee set +forth in search of it, when Dr. Bellair had returned to her patients, +and Miss Orella to her own parlor, and was there consoled by Mr. +Dykeman for the loss of her niece, then Vivian went to her room--all +hers now, looking strangely large and empty--and set down among the +drifts of white tissue paper and scattered pins--alone. + +She sank down on the bed, weary and sad at heart, for an hour of full +surrender long refused; meaning for once to let her grief have its +full way with her. But, just as on the night of her hurried engagement +she had been unable to taste to the full the happiness expected, so +now, surrender as she might, she could not feel the intensity of +expected pain. + +She was lonely, unquestionably. She faced a lonely life. Six long, +heavy months had passed since she had made her decision. + +"I am nearly twenty-seven now," she thought, resignedly. "I shall +never marry," and she felt a little shiver of the horror of last year. + +But, having got this far in melancholy contemplation, her mind refused +to dwell upon it, but filled in spite of her with visions of merry +little ones, prancing in wavering circles, and singing their more +wavering songs. She was lonely and a single woman--but she had +something to do; and far more power to do it, more interest, +enthusiasm, and skill, than at the season's beginning. + +She thought of Morton--of what little they had heard since his hurried +departure. He had gone farther West; they had heard of him in San +Francisco, they had heard of him, after some months, in the Klondike +region, then they had heard no more. He did not write. It seemed hard to +so deeply hurt his aunt for what was no fault of hers; but Morton had +never considered her feelings very deeply, his bitter anger, his +hopelessness, his desperate disappointment, blinding him to any pain +but his own. + +But her thoughts of him failed to rouse any keen distinctive sorrow. +They rambled backward and forward, from the boy who had been such a +trouble to his aunt, such a continuous disappointment and mortification; +to the man whose wooing, looked back upon at this distance, seemed far +less attractive to the memory than it had been at the time. Even his +honest attempt at improvement gave her but a feeling of pity, and though +pity is akin to love it is not always a near relation. + +From her unresisting descent into wells of pain, which proved +unexpectedly shallow, the girl arose presently and quietly set to work +arranging the room in its new capacity as hers only. + +From black and bitter agony to the gray tastelessness of her present +life was not an exciting change, but Vivian had more power in quiet +endurance than in immediate resistance, and set herself now in earnest +to fulfill the tasks before her. + +This was March. She was planning an extension of her classes, the +employment of an assistant. Her work was appreciated, her school +increased. Patiently and steadily she faced her task, and found a +growing comfort in it. When summer came, Dr. Bellair again begged her +to help out in the plan of a girls' camp she was developing. + +This was new work for Vivian, but her season in Mrs. Johnson's +gymnastic class had given her a fresh interest in her own body and the +use of it. That stalwart instructress, a large-boned, calm-eyed +Swedish woman, was to be the manager of the camp, and Vivian this +time, with a small salary attached, was to act as assistant. + +"It's a wonderful thing the way people take to these camps," said Dr. +Bellair. "They are springing up everywhere. Magnificent for children +and young people." + +"It is a wonderful thing to me," observed Mrs. Pettigrew. "You go to a +wild place that costs no rent; you run a summer hotel without any +accommodations; you get a lot of parents to pay handsomely for letting +their children be uncomfortable--and there you are." + +"They are not uncomfortable!" protested her friend, a little ruffled. +"They like it. And besides liking it, it's good for them. It's +precisely the roughing it that does them good." + +It did do them good; the group of young women and girls who went to +the high-lying mountain lake where Dr. Bellair had bought a piece of +wild, rough country for her own future use, and none of them profited +by it more than Vivian. + +She had been, from time to time, to decorous "shore places," where one +could do nothing but swim and lie on the sand; or to the "mountains," +those trim, green, modest, pretty-picture mountains, of which New +England is so proud; but she had never before been in an untouched +wilderness. + +Often in the earliest dawn she would rise from the springy, odorous +bed of balsam boughs and slip out alone for her morning swim. A run +through the pines to a little rocky cape, with a small cave she knew, +and to glide, naked, into that glass-smooth water, warmer than the +sunless air, and swim out softly, silently, making hardly a ripple, +turn on her back and lie there--alone with the sky--this brought +peace to her heart. She felt so free from every tie to earth, so like +a soul in space, floating there with the clean, dark water beneath +her, and the clear, bright heaven above her; and when the pale glow in +the east brightened to saffron, warmed to rose, burst into a level +blaze of gold, the lake laughed in the light, and Vivian laughed, too, +in pure joy of being alive and out in all that glittering beauty. + +She tramped the hills with the girls; picked heaping pails of wild +berries, learned to cook in primitive fashion, slept as she had never +slept in her life, from dark to dawn, grew brown and hungry and +cheerful. + +After all, twenty-seven was not an old age. + +She came back at the summer-end, and Dr. Bellair clapped her warmly on +the shoulder, declaring, "I'm proud of you, Vivian! Simply proud of +you!" + +Her grandmother, after a judicious embrace, held her at arm's length +and examined her critically. + +"I don't see but what you've stood it first rate," she admitted. "And +if you _like_ that color--why, you certainly are looking well." + +She was well, and began her second year of teaching with a serene +spirit. + +In all this time of slow rebuilding Vivian would not have been left +comfortless if masculine admiration could have pleased her. The young +men at The Cottonwoods, now undistracted by Susie's gay presence, +concentrated much devotion upon Vivian, as did also the youths across +the way. She turned from them all, gently, but with absolute decision. + +Among her most faithful devotees was young Percy Watson, who loved her +almost as much as he loved Dr. Hale, and could never understand, in his +guileless, boyish heart, why neither of them would talk about the other. + +They did not forbid his talking, however, and the earnest youth, +sitting in the quiet parlor at The Cottonwoods, would free his heart +to Vivian about how the doctor worked too hard--sat up all hours to +study--didn't give himself any rest--nor any fun. + +"He'll break down some time--I tell him so. It's not natural for any +man to work that way, and I don't see any real need of it. He says +he's working on a book--some big medical book, I suppose; but what's +the hurry? I wish you'd have him over here oftener, and make him amuse +himself a little, Miss Vivian." + +"Dr. Hale is quite welcome to come at any time--he knows that," said +she. + +Again the candid Percy, sitting on the doctor's shadowy piazza, poured +out his devoted admiration for her to his silent host. + +"She's the finest woman I ever knew!" the boy would say. "She's so +beautiful and so clever, and so pleasant to everybody. She's +_square_--like a man. And she's kind--like a woman, only kinder; a +sort of motherliness about her. I don't see how she ever lived so long +without being married. I'd marry her in a minute if I was good +enough--and if she'd have me." + +Dr. Hale tousled the ears of Balzac, the big, brown dog whose head was +so often on his knee, and said nothing. He had not seen the girl since +that night by the arbor. + +Later in the season he learned, perforce, to know her better, and to +admire her more. + +Susie's baby came with the new year, and brought danger and anxiety. +They hardly hoped to save the life of the child. The little mother was +long unable to leave her bed. Since her aunt was not there, but gone, +as Mrs. Dykeman, on an extended tour--"part business and part +honeymoon," her husband told her--and since Mrs. Pettigrew now ruled +alone at The Cottonwoods, with every evidence of ability and +enjoyment, Vivian promptly installed herself in the Saunders home, as +general housekeeper and nurse. + +She was glad then of her strength, and used it royally, comforting the +wretched Jim, keeping up Susie's spirits, and mothering the frail tiny +baby with exquisite devotion. + +Day after day the doctor saw her, sweet and strong and patient, +leaving her school to the assistant, regardless of losses, showing the +virtues he admired most in women. + +He made his calls as short as possible; but even so, Vivian could not +but note how his sternness gave way to brusque good cheer for the sick +mother, and to a lovely gentleness with the child. + +When that siege was over and the girl returned to her own work, she +carried pleasant pictures in her mind, and began to wonder, as had so +many others, why this man, who seemed so fitted to enjoy a family, had +none. + +She missed his daily call, and wondered further why he avoided them +more assiduously than at first. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +ACHIEVEMENTS. + + There are some folk born to beauty, + And some to plenteous gold, + Some who are proud of being young, + Some proud of being old. + + Some who are glad of happy love, + Enduring, deep and true, + And some who thoroughly enjoy + The little things they do. + + +Upon all this Grandma Pettigrew cast an observant eye, and meditated +sagely thereupon. Coming to a decision, she first took a course of +reading in some of Dr. Bellair's big books, and then developed a +series of perplexing symptoms, not of a too poignant or perilous +nature, that took her to Dr. Hale's office frequently. + +"You haven't repudiated Dr. Bellair, have you?" he asked her. + +"I have never consulted Jane Bellair as a physician," she replied, +"though I esteem her much as a friend." + +The old lady's company was always welcome to him; he liked her +penetrating eye, her close-lipped, sharp remarks, and appreciated the +real kindness of her heart. + +If he had known how closely she was peering into the locked recesses +of his own, and how much she saw there, he would perhaps have avoided +her as he did Vivian, and if he had known further that this ingenious +old lady, pursuing long genealogical discussions with him, had finally +unearthed a mutual old-time friend, and had forthwith started a +correspondence with that friend, based on this common acquaintance in +Carston, he might have left that city. + +The old-time friend, baited by Mrs. Pettigrew's innocent comment on Dr. +Hale's persistence in single blessedness, poured forth what she knew of +the cause with no more embellishment than time is sure to give. + +"I know why he won't marry," wrote she. "He had reason good to begin +with, but I never dreamed he'd be obstinate enough to keep it up +sixteen years. When he was a boy in college here I knew him well--he +was a splendid fellow, one of the very finest. But he fell desperately +in love with that beautiful Mrs. James--don't you remember about her? +She married a St. Cloud later, and he left her, I think. She was as +lovely as a cameo--and as hard and flat. That woman was the saintliest +thing that ever breathed. She wouldn't live with her husband because +he had done something wrong; she wouldn't get a divorce, nor let him, +because that was wicked--and she always had a string of boys round +her, and talked about the moral influence she had on them. + +"Young Hale worshipped her--simply worshipped her--and she let him. +She let them all. She had that much that was god-like about her--she +loved incense. You need not ask for particulars. She was far too +'particular' for that. But one light-headed chap went and drowned +himself--that was all hushed up, of course, but some of us felt pretty +sure why. He was a half-brother to Dick Hale, and Dick was awfully +fond of him. Then he turned hard and hateful all at once--used to talk +horrid about women. He kept straight enough--that's easy for a +mysogynist, and studying medicine didn't help him any--doctors and +ministers know too much about women. So there you are. But I'm +astonished to hear he's never gotten over it; he always was +obstinate--it's his only fault. They say he swore never to marry--if +he did, that accounts. Do give my regards if you see him again." + +Mrs. Pettigrew considered long and deeply over this information, as she +slowly produced a jersey striped with Roman vividness. It was noticeable +in this new life in Carston that Mrs. Pettigrew's knitted jackets had +grown steadily brighter in hue from month to month. Whereas, in +Bainville, purple and brown were the high lights, and black, slate and +navy blue the main colors; now her worsteds were as a painter's palette, +and the result not only cheered, but bade fair to inebriate. + +"A pig-headed man," she said to herself, as her needle prodded +steadily in and out; "a pig-headed man, with a pig-headedness of +sixteen years' standing. His hair must 'a turned gray from the strain +of it. And there's Vivian, biddin' fair to be an old maid after all. +What on _earth_!" She appeared to have forgotten that marriages are +made in heaven, or to disregard that saying. "The Lord helps those +that help themselves," was one of her favorite mottoes. "And much more +those that help other people!" she used to add. + +Flitting in and out of Dr. Hale's at all hours, she noted that he had +a fondness for music, with a phenomenal incapacity to produce any. He +encouraged his boys to play on any and every instrument the town +afforded, and to sing, whether they could or not; and seemed never to +weary of their attempts, though far from satisfied with the product. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + +Vivian could play, "Well enough to know better," she said, and seldom +touched the piano. She had a deep, full, contralto voice, and a fair +degree of training. But she would never make music unless she felt +like it--and in this busy life, with so many people about her, she had +always refused. + +Grandma meditated. + +She selected an evening when most of the boarders were out at some +entertainment, and selfishly begged Vivian to stay at home with +her--said she was feeling badly and wanted company. Grandma so seldom +wanted anything that Vivian readily acquiesced; in fact, she was quite +worried about her, and asked Dr. Bellair if she thought anything was +the matter. + +"She has seemed more quiet lately," said that astute lady, "and I've +noticed her going in to Dr. Hale's during office hours. But perhaps +it's only to visit with him." + +"Are you in any pain, Grandma?" asked the girl, affectionately. +"You're not sick, are you?" + +"O, no--I'm not sick," said the old lady, stoutly. "I'm just--well, I +felt sort of lonesome to-night--perhaps I'm homesick." + +As she had never shown the faintest sign of any feeling for their +deserted home, except caustic criticism and unfavorable comparison, +Vivian rather questioned this theory, but she began to think there was +something in it when her grandmother, sitting by the window in the +spring twilight, began to talk of how this time of year always made +her think of her girlhood. + +"Time for the March peepers at home. It's early here, and no peepers +anywhere that I've heard. 'Bout this time we'd be going to evening +meeting. Seems as if I could hear that little old organ--and the +singing!" + +"Hadn't I better shut that window," asked Vivian. "Won't you get cold?" + +"No, indeed," said her grandmother, promptly. "I'm plenty warm--I've +got this little shawl around me. And it's so soft and pleasant out." + +It was soft and pleasant, a delicious May-like night in March, full of +spring scents and hints of coming flowers. On the dark piazza across the +way she could make out a still figure sitting alone, and the thump of +Balzac's heel as he struggled with his intimate enemies told her who it +was. + +"Come Ye Disconsolate," she began to hum, most erroneously. "How does +that go, Vivian? I was always fond of it, even if I can't sing any +more'n a peacock." + +Vivian hummed it and gave the words in a low voice. + +"That's good!" said the old lady. "I declare, I'm kinder hungry for +some of those old hymns. I wish you'd play me some of 'em, Vivian." + +So Vivian, glad to please her, woke the yellow keys to softer music +than they were accustomed to, and presently her rich, low voice, sure, +easy, full of quiet feeling, flowed out on the soft night air. + +Grandma was not long content with the hymns. "I want some of those +old-fashioned songs--you used to know a lot of 'em. Can't you do that +'Kerry Dance' of Molloy's, and 'Twickenham Ferry'--and 'Lauriger +Horatius?'" + +Vivian gave her those, and many another, Scotch ballads, English songs +and German Lieder--glad to please her grandmother so easily, and quite +unconscious of a dark figure which had crossed the street and come +silently to sit on the farthest corner of their piazza. + +Grandma, meanwhile, watched him, and Vivian as well, and then, with the +most unsuspected suddenness, took to her bed. Sciatica, she said. An +intermittent pain that came upon her so suddenly she couldn't stand up. +She felt much better lying down. And Dr. Hale must attend her +unceasingly. + +This unlooked for overthrow of the phenomenally active old lady was a +great blow to Mr. Skee; he showed real concern and begged to be +allowed to see her. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "It's nothing catching." + +She lay, high-pillowed, as stiff and well arranged as a Knight Templar +on a tombstone, arrayed for the occasion in a most decorative little +dressing sack and ribbony night-cap. + +"Why, ma'am," said Mr. Skee, "it's highly becomin' to you to be sick. +It leads me to hope it's nothin' serious." + +She regarded him enigmatically. "Is Dr. Hale out there, or Vivian?" +she inquired in a low voice. + +"No, ma'am--they ain't," he replied, after a glance in the next room. + +Then he bent a penetrating eye upon her. She met it unflinchingly, but +as his smile appeared and grew, its limitless widening spread +contagion, and her calm front was broken. + +"Elmer Skee," said she, with sudden fury, "you hold your tongue!" + +"Ma'am!" he replied, "I have said nothin'--and I don't intend to. But +if the throne of Europe was occupied by you, Mrs. Pettigrew, we would +have a better managed world." + +He proved a most agreeable and steady visitor during this period of +confinement, and gave her full accounts of all that went on outside, +with occasional irrelevant bursts of merriment which no rebuke from +Mrs. Pettigrew seemed wholly to check. + +He regaled her with accounts of his continuous consultations with Mrs. +St. Cloud, and the wisdom and good taste with which she invariably +advised him. + +"Don't you admire a Platonic Friendship, Mrs. Pettigrew?" + +"I do not!" said the old lady, sharply. "And what's more I don't +believe you do." + +"Well, ma'am," he answered, swaying backward and forward on the hind +legs of his chair, "there are moments when I confess it looks +improbable." + +Mrs. Pettigrew cocked her head on one side and turned a gimlet eye +upon him. "Look here, Elmer Skee," she said suddenly, "how much money +have you really got?" + +He brought down his chair on four legs and regarded her for a few +moments, his smile widening slowly. "Well, ma'am, if I live through +the necessary expenses involved on my present undertaking, I shall +have about two thousand a year--if rents are steady." + +"Which I judge you do not wish to be known?" + +"If there's one thing more than another I have always admired in you, +ma'am, it is the excellence of your judgment. In it I have absolute +confidence." + +Mrs. St. Cloud had some time since summoned Dr. Hale to her side for a +severe headache, but he had merely sent word that his time was fully +occupied, and recommended Dr. Bellair. + +Now, observing Mrs. Pettigrew's tactics, the fair invalid resolved to +take the bull by the horns and go herself to his office. She found him +easily enough. He lifted his eyes as she entered, rose and stood with +folded arms regarding her silently. The tall, heavy figure, the full +beard, the glasses, confused even her excellent memory. After all it was +many years since they had met, and he had been but one of a multitude. + +She was all sweetness and gentle apology for forcing herself upon him, +but really she had a little prejudice against women doctors--his +reputation was so great--he was so temptingly near--she was in such +pain--she had such perfect confidence in him-- + +He sat down quietly and listened, watching her from under his bent +brows. Her eyes were dropped, her voice very weak and appealing; her +words most perfectly chosen. + +"I have told you," he said at length, "that I never treat women for +their petty ailments, if I can avoid it." + +She shook her head in grieved acceptance, and lifted large eyes for +one of those penetrating sympathetic glances so frequently successful. + +"How you must have suffered!" she said. + +"I have," he replied grimly. "I have suffered a long time from having +my eyes opened too suddenly to the brainless cruelty of women, Mrs. +James." + +She looked at him again, searchingly, and gave a little cry. "Dick +Hale!" she said. + +"Yes, Dick Hale. Brother to poor little Joe Medway, whose foolish +young heart you broke, among others; whose death you are responsible +for." + +She was looking at him with widening wet eyes. "Ah! If you only knew +how I, too, have suffered over that!" she said. "I was scarce more +than a girl myself, then. I was careless, not heartless. No one knew +what pain I was bearing, then. I liked the admiration of those nice +boys--I never realized any of them would take it seriously. That has +been a heavy shadow on my life, Dr. Hale--the fear that I was the +thoughtless cause of that terrible thing. And you have never forgiven +me. I do not wonder." + +He was looking at her in grim silence again, wishing he had not +spoken. + +"So that is why you have never been to The Cottonwoods since I came," +she pursued. "And I am responsible for all your loneliness. O, how +dreadful!" + +Again he rose to his feet. + +"No, madam, you mistake. You were responsible for my brother's death, +and for a bitter awakening on my part, but you are in no way +responsible for my attitude since. That is wholly due to myself. Allow +me again to recommend Dr. Jane Bellair, an excellent physician and +even more accessible." + +He held the door for her, and she went out, not wholly dissatisfied +with her visit. She would have been far more displeased could she have +followed his thoughts afterward. + +"What a Consummate Ass I have been all my life!" he was meditating. +"Because I met this particular type of sex parasite, to deliberately +go sour--and forego all chance of happiness. Like a silly girl. A +fool girl who says, 'I will never marry!' just because of some quarrel +* * * But the girl never keeps her word. A man must." + +The days were long to Vivian now, and dragged a little, for all her +industry. + +Mrs. St. Cloud tried to revive their former intimacy, but the girl could +not renew it on the same basis. She, too, had sympathized with Mr. +Dykeman, and now sympathized somewhat with Mr. Skee. But since that +worthy man still volubly discoursed on Platonism, and his fair friend +openly agreed in this view, there seemed no real ground for distress. + +Mrs. Pettigrew remained ailing and rather captious. She had a +telephone put at her bedside, and ran her household affairs +efficiently, with Vivian as lieutenant, and the ever-faithful Jeanne +to uphold the honor of the cuisine. Also she could consult her +physician, and demanded his presence at all hours. + +He openly ignored Mrs. St. Cloud now, who met his rude treatment with +secret, uncomplaining patience. + +Vivian spoke of this. "I do not see why he need be so rude, Grandma. He +may hate women, but I don't see why he should treat her so shamefully." + +"Well, I do," replied the invalid, "and what's more I'm going to show +you; I've always disliked that woman, and now I know why. I'd turn +her out of the house if it wasn't for Elmer Skee. That man's as good +as gold under all his foolishness, and if he can get any satisfaction +out of that meringue he's welcome. Dr. Hale doesn't hate women, child, +but a woman broke his heart once--and then he made an idiot of himself +by vowing never to marry." + +She showed her friend's letter, and Vivian read it with rising color. +"O, Grandma! Why that's worse than I ever thought--even after what Dr. +Bellair told us. And it was his brother! No wonder he's so fond of +boys. He tries to warn them, I suppose." + +"Yes, and the worst of it is that he's really got over his grouch; and +he's in love--but tied down by that foolish oath, poor man." + +"Is he, Grandma? How do you know? With whom?" + +"You dear, blind child!" said the old lady, "with you, of course. Has +been ever since we came." + +The girl sat silent, a strange feeling of joy rising in her heart, as +she reviewed the events of the last two years. So that was why he +would not stay that night. And that was why. "No wonder he wouldn't +come here!" she said at length. "It's on account of that woman. But +why did he change?" + +"Because she went over there to see him. He wouldn't come to her. I +heard her 'phone to him one evening." The old lady chuckled. "So she +marched herself over there--I saw her, and I guess she got her +needin's. She didn't stay long. And his light burned till morning." + +"Do you think he cares for her, still?" + +"Cares for her!" The old lady fairly snorted her derision. "He can't +bear the sight of her--treats her as if she wasn't there. No, indeed. +If he did she'd have him fast enough, now. Well! I suppose he'll +repent of that foolishness of his all the days of his life--and stick +it out! Poor man." + +Mrs. Pettigrew sighed, and Vivian echoed the sigh. She began to +observe Dr. Hale with new eyes; to study little matters of tone and +manner--and could not deny her grandmother's statement. Nor would she +admit it--yet. + +The old lady seemed weaker and more irritable, but positively forbade +any word of this being sent to her family. + +"There's nothing on earth ails me," she said. "Dr. Hale says there's +not a thing the matter that he can see--that if I'd only eat more I'd +get stronger. I'll be all right soon, my dear. I'll get my appetite +and get well, I have faith to believe." + +She insisted on his coming over in the evening, when not too busy, and +staying till she dropped asleep, and he seemed strangely willing to +humor her; sitting for hours in the quiet parlor, while Vivian played +softly, and sang her low-toned hymns. + +So sitting, one still evening, when for some time no fretful "not so +loud" had come from the next room, he turned suddenly to Vivian and +asked, almost roughly--"Do you hold a promise binding?--an oath, a +vow--to oneself?" + +She met his eyes, saw the deep pain there, the long combat, the +irrepressible hope and longing. + +"Did you swear to keep your oath secret?" she asked. + +"Why, no," he said, "I did not. I will tell you. I did not swear never +to tell a woman I loved her. I never dreamed I should love again. +Vivian, I was fool enough to love a shallow, cruel woman, once, and +nearly broke my heart in consequence. That was long years ago. I have +never cared for a woman since--till I met you. And now I must pay +double for that boy folly." + +He came to her and took her hand. + +"I love you," he said, his tense grip hurting her. "I shall love you as +long as I live--day and night--forever! You shall know that at any +rate!" + +She could not raise her eyes. A rich bright color rose to the soft +border of her hair. He caught her face in his hands and made her look +at him; saw those dark, brilliant eyes softened, tear-filled, asking, +and turned sharply away with a muffled cry. + +"I have taken a solemn oath," he said in a strained, hard voice, +"never to ask a woman to marry me." + +He heard a little gasping laugh, and turned upon her. She stood there +smiling, her hands reached out to him. + +"You don't have to," she said. + + * * * * * + +A long time later, upon their happy stillness broke a faint voice from +the other room: + +"Vivian, I think if you'd bring me some bread and butter--and a cup of +tea--and some cold beef and a piece of pie--I could eat it." + + * * * * * + +Upon the rapid and complete recovery of her grandmother's health, and +the announcement of Vivian's engagement, Mr. and Mrs. Lane decided to +make a visit to their distant mother and daughter, hoping as well that +Mr. Lane's cough might be better for a visit in that altitude. Mr. and +Mrs. Dykeman also sent word of their immediate return. + +Jeanne, using subtle powers of suggestion, caused Mrs. Pettigrew to +decide upon giving a dinner, in honor of these events. There was the +betrothed couple, there were the honored guests; there were Jimmie and +Susie, with or without the baby; there were the Dykemans; there was +Dr. Bellair, of course; there was Mr. Skee, an even number. + +"I'm sorry to spoil that table, but I've got to take in Mrs. St. +Cloud," said the old lady. + +"O, Grandma! Why! It'll spoil it for Dick." + +"Huh!" said her grandmother. "He's so happy you couldn't spoil it with +a mummy. If I don't ask her it'll spoil it for Mr. Skee." + +So Mrs. St. Cloud made an eleventh at the feast, and neither Mr. +Dykeman nor Vivian could find it in their happy hearts to care. + +Mr. Skee arose, looking unusually tall and shapely in immaculate +every-day dress, his well-brushed hair curling vigorously around the +little bald spots; his smile wide and benevolent. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen, both Domestic and Foreign, Friends and +Fellowtownsmen and Women--Ladies, God Bless 'em; also Children, if +any: I feel friendly enough to-night to include the beasts of the +fields--but such would be inappropriate at this convivial board--among +these convivial boarders. + +"This is an occasion of great rejoicing. We have many things to +rejoice over, both great _and_ small. We have our healths; all of us, +apparently. We are experiencing the joys of reunion--in the matter of +visiting parents that is, and long absent daughters. + +"We have also the Return of the Native, in the shape of my old friend +Andy--now become a Benedict--and seeming to enjoy it. About this same +Andy I have a piece of news to give you which will cause you +astonishment and gratification, but which involves me in a profuse +apology--a most sincere and general apology. + +"You know how a year or more ago it was put about in this town that +Andrew Dykeman was a ruined man?" Mrs. St. Cloud darted a swift glance +at Mr. Dykeman, but his eyes rested calmly on his wife; then at Mr. +Skee--but he was pursuing his remorseful way. + +"I do not wish to blame my friend Andy for his reticence--but he +certainly did exhibit reticence on this occasion--to beat the band! He +never contradicted this rumor--not once. _He_ just went about looking +kind o' down in the mouth for some reason or other, and when for the +sake o' Auld Lang Syne I offered him a job in my office--the cuss took +it! I won't call this deceitful, but it sure was reticent to a degree. + +"Well, Ladies--and Gentlemen--the best of us are liable to mistakes, +and I have to admit--I am glad to humble myself and make this public +admission--I was entirely in error in this matter. + +"It wasn't so. There was nothing in it. It was rumor, pure and simple. +Andy Dykeman never lost no mine, it appears; or else he had another up +his sleeve concealed from his best friends. Anyhow, the facts are +these; not only that A. Dykeman as he sits before you is a prosperous +and wealthy citizen, but that he has been, for these ten years back, +and we were all misled by a mixture of rumor and reticence. If he has +concealed these facts from the wife of his bosom I submit that that is +carrying reticence too far!" Again Mrs. St. Cloud sent a swift glance +at the reticent one, and again caught only his tender apologetic look +toward his wife, and her utter amazement. + +Mr. Dykeman rose to his feet. + +"I make no apologies for interrupting my friend," he said. "It is +necessary at times. He at least can never be accused of reticence. +Neither do I make apologies for letting rumor take its course--a +course often interesting to observe. But I do apologize--in this +heartfelt and public manner, to my wife, for marrying her under false +pretenses. But any of you gentlemen who have ever had any experience +in the attitude of," he hesitated mercifully, and said, "the World, +toward a man with money, may understand what it meant to me, after +many years of bachelorhood, to find a heart that not only loved me for +myself alone, but absolutely loved me better because I'd lost my +money--or she thought I had. I have hated to break the charm. But now +my unreticent friend here has stated the facts, and I make my +confession. Will you forgive me, Orella?" + +"Speech! Speech!" cried Mr. Skee. But Mrs. Dykeman could not be +persuaded to do anything but blush and smile and squeeze her husband's +hand under the table, and Mr. Skee arose once more. + +"This revelation being accomplished," he continued cheerfully; "and no +one any the worse for it, as I see," he was not looking in the +direction of Mrs. St. Cloud, whose slippered foot beat softly under +the table, though her face wore its usual sweet expression, possibly a +trifle strained; "I now proceed to a proclamation of that happy event +to celebrate which we are here gathered together. I allude to the +Betrothal of Our Esteemed Friend, Dr. Richard Hale, and the Fairest of +the Fair! Regarding the Fair, we think he has chosen well. But +regarding Dick Hale, his good fortune is so clear, so evidently +undeserved, and his pride and enjoyment thereof so ostentatious, as to +leave us some leeway to make remarks. + +"Natural remarks, irresistible remarks, as you might say, and not +intended to be acrimonious. Namely, such as these: It's a long lane +that has no turning; There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip; +The worm will turn; The pitcher that goes too often to the well gets +broken at last; Better Late than Never. And so on and so forth. Any +other gentleman like to make remarks on this topic?" + +Dr. Hale rose, towering to his feet. + +"I think I'd better make them," he said. "No one else could so fully, +so heartily, with such perfect knowledge point out how many kinds of a +fool I've been for all these years. And yet of them all there are only +two that I regret--this last two in which if I had been wiser, perhaps +I might have found my happiness sooner. As that cannot be proven, +however, I will content myself with the general acknowledgment that +Bachelors are Misguided Bats, I myself having long been the worst +instance; women, in general, are to be loved and honored; and that I +am proud and glad to accept your congratulations because the sweetest +and noblest woman in the world has honored me with her love." + +"I never dreamed you could put so many words together, Doc--and really +make sense!" said Mr. Skee, genially, as he rose once more. "You +certainly show a proper spirit at last, and all is forgiven. But now, +my friends; now if your attention is not exhausted, I have yet another +Event to confide to you." + +Mr. and Mrs. Lane wore an aspect of polite interest. Susie and Jim +looked at each other with a sad but resigned expression. So did Mrs. +Dykeman and her husband. Vivian's hand was in her lover's and she +could not look unhappy, but they, too, deprecated this last +announcement, only too well anticipated. Only Mrs. St. Cloud, her fair +face bowed in gentle confusion, showed anticipating pleasure. + +Mr. Skee waved his hand toward her with a large and graceful gesture. + +"You must all of you have noticed the amount of Platonic Friendship +which has been going on for some time between my undeserving self and +this lovely lady here. Among so many lovely ladies perhaps I'd better +specify that I refer to the one on my left. + +"What she has been to me, in my lonely old age, none of you perhaps +realize." He wore an expression as of one long exiled, knowing no one +who could speak his language. + +"She has been my guide, counsellor and friend; she has assisted me +with advice most wise and judicious; she has not interfered with my +habits, but has allowed me to enjoy life in my own way, with the +added attraction of her companionship. + +"Now, I dare say, there may have been some of you who have questioned +my assertion that this friendship was purely Platonic. Perhaps even +the lady herself, knowing the heart of man, may have doubted if my +feeling toward her was really friendship." + +Mr. Skee turned his head a little to one side and regarded her with a +tender inquiring smile. + +To this she responded sweetly: "Why no, Mr. Skee, of course, I +believed what you said." + +"There, now," said he, admiringly. "What is so noble as the soul of +woman? It is to this noble soul in particular, and to all my friends +here in general, that I now confide the crowning glory of a long and +checkered career, namely, and to wit, that I am engaged to be married +to that Peerless Lady, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, of whose remarkable +capacities and achievements I can never sufficiently express my +admiration." + +A silence fell upon the table. Mr. Skee sat down smiling, evidently in +cheerful expectation of congratulations. Mrs. Pettigrew wore an alert +expression, as of a skilled fencer preparing to turn any offered +thrusts. Mrs. St. Cloud seemed to be struggling with some emotion, +which shook her usual sweet serenity. The others, too, were visibly +affected, and not quick to respond. + +Then did Mr. Saunders arise with real good nature and ever-ready wit; +and pour forth good-humored nonsense with congratulations all around, +till a pleasant atmosphere was established, in which Mrs. St. Cloud +could so far recover as to say many proper and pretty things; sadly +adding that she regretted her imminent return to the East would end so +many pleasant friendships. + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOKS BY + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman + + +Moving the Mountain. + +A Utopia at short range. How we might change this country in thirty +years, if we changed our minds first. Mrs. Gilman's latest book, like +her earliest verse, is a protest against the parrot cry that "you +can't alter human nature." + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +What Diantha Did. + +A Novel. + +"What she did was to solve the domestic service problem for both +mistress and maid in a southern California town." + + "_The Survey._" + +"A sensible book, it gives a new and deserved comprehension of the +importance and complexity of housekeeping." + + "_The Independent._" + +"Mrs. Perkins Gilman is as full of ideas as ever, and her Diantha is a +model for all young women." + + "_The Englishwoman._" + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +The Man-Made World. + +"We defy any thoughtful person to read this book of Mrs. Gilman, and not +be moved to or towards conviction, whether he acknowledges it or not." + + "_San Francisco Star._" + +"Mrs. Gilman has presented in this work the results of her thought, +study, and observation of the much debated question of the relation of +man to woman and of woman to man. The subject is developed with much +wise argument and wholesome sense of humor." + + "_The Craftsman._" + +"Mrs. Gilman has applied her theory with much cleverness, consistency +and logical thinking." + + "_Chicago Evening Post._" + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +"IN THIS OUR WORLD" + +There is a joyous superabundance of life, of strength, of health, in +Mrs. Gilman's verse, which seems born of the glorious sunshine and +rich gardens of California. + + --_Washington Times._ + +The freshness, charm and geniality of her satire temporarily convert +us to her most advanced views. + + --_Boston Journal._ + +The poet of women and for women, a new and prophetic voice in the +world. Montaigne would have rejoiced in her. + + --_Mexican Herald._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.25=. + + +"THE HOME" + +Indeed, Mrs. Gilman has not intended her book so much as a treatise +for scholars as a surgical operation on the popular mind. + + --_The Critic, New York._ + +Whatever Mrs. Gilman writes, people read--approving or protesting, +still they read. + + --_Republican, Springfield, Mass._ + +Full of thought and of new and striking suggestions. Tells what the +average woman has and ought not keep, what she is and ought not be. + + --_Literature World._ + +But it is safe to say that no more stimulating arraignment has ever +before taken shape and that the argument of the book is noble, and, on +the whole, convincing. + + --_Congregationalist, Boston._ + +The name of this author is a guarantee of logical reasoning, sound +economical principles and progressive thought. + + --_The Craftsman, Syracuse._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.00=. + +"The Home" has been translated into Swedish. + + +"WOMEN AND ECONOMICS" + +Since John Stuart Mill's essay there has been no book dealing with the +whole position of women to approach it in originality of conception +and brilliancy of exposition. + + --_London Chronicle._ + +The most significant utterance on the subject since Mill's "Subjection +of Women." + + --_The Nation._ + +It is the strongest book on the woman question that has yet been +published. + + --_Minneapolis Journal._ + +A remarkable book. A work on economics that has not a dull page,--the +work of a woman about women that has not a flippant word. + + --_Boston Transcript._ + +This book unites in a remarkable degree the charm of a brilliantly +written essay with the inevitable logic of a proposition of Euclid. +Nothing that we have read for many a long day can approach in +clearness of conception, in power of arrangement, and in lucidity of +expression the argument developed in the first seven chapters of this +remarkable book. + + --_Westminster Gazette, London._ + +Will be widely read and discussed as the cleverest, fairest, most +forcible presentation of the view of the rapidly increasing group who +look with favor on the extension of industrial employment to women. + + --_Political Science Quarterly._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.50=. + +"Women and Economics" has been translated into German, Dutch, Italian, +Hungarian, Russian and Japanese. + + +"CONCERNING CHILDREN" + +WANTED:--A philanthropist, to give a copy to every English-speaking +parent. + + --_The Times, New York._ + +Should be read by every mother in the land. + + --_The Press, New York._ + +Wholesomely disturbing book that deserves to be read for its own sake. + + --_Chicago Dial._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.25=. + +"Concerning Children" has been translated into German, Dutch and +Yiddish. + + +"THE YELLOW WALLPAPER" + +Worthy of a place beside some of the weird masterpieces of Hawthorne +and Poe. + + --_Literature._ + +As a short story it stands among the most powerful produced in America. + + --_Chicago News._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$0.50=. + + +"HUMAN WORK" + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman has added a third to her great trilogy of +books on economic subjects as they affect our daily life, particularly +in the home. Mrs. Gilman is by far the most brilliant woman writer of +our day, and this new volume, which she calls "Human Work," is a +glorification of labor. + + --_New Orleans Picayune._ + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman has been writing a new book, entitled "Human +Work." It is the best thing that Mrs. Gilman has done, and it is meant +to focus all of her previous work, so to speak. + + --_Tribune, Chicago._ + +In her latest volume, "Human Work," Charlotte Perkins Gilman places +herself among the foremost students and elucidators of the problem of +social economics. + + --_San Francisco Star._ + +It is impossible to overestimate the value of the insistence on the +social aspect of human affairs as Mrs. Gilman has outlined it. + + --_Public Opinion._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.00=. + +CHARLTON COMPANY, 67 Wall St., New York + + + + +THE FORERUNNER + + +A monthly magazine, written, edited, owned and published + +by + +CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN +67 Wall Street, New York City +U. S. A. + + +SUBSCRIPTION PER YEAR + + Domestic $1.00 + Canadian 1.12 + Foreign 1.25 + + +Bound Volumes, each year $1.40 post paid + + +This magazine carries Mrs. Gilman's best and newest work, her social +philosophy, verse, satire, fiction, ethical teaching, humor and opinion. + +It stands for Humanness in Women and Men; for better methods in Child +Culture; for the New Ethics, the better Economics--the New World we +are to make, are making. The breadth of Mrs. Gilman's thought and her +power of expressing it have made her well-known in America and Europe +as a leader along lines of human improvement and a champion of woman. + +THE FORERUNNER voices her thought and its messages are not only many, +but strong, true and vital. + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcription Notes: + + +Text in bold has been marked with equal signs (=text=). + +Text in italics has been marked with underscores (_text_). + +The original spelling and minor inconsistencies in the spelling and +formatting have been retained. + +Minor punctuation . , ; " ' changes have been made without annotation. + +Other changes to the original text are listed as follows: + +Page 2 Man-made/Man-Made: The Man-Made World +Page 9 Jessie/Josie: Miss Josie, the thin +Page 28 her/his: face between his hands +Page 45 evclaimed/exclaimed: exclaimed his wife +Page 110 Removed repeated word a: were a real +Page 115 who/why: why his hair's +Page 134 though/thought: I thought as much +Page 164 Mr./My: My dear Miss +Page 169 Removed repeated word and: her own and set it +Page 174 Removed redundant word a: he had not had +Page 194 though/thought: I thought I heard +Page 197 litle/little: a little dampened +Page 240 weedings/weddings: wooings and weddings +Page 260 irrestible/irresistible: sleep irresistible from +Page 261 Cottonwood/Cottonwoods: to The Cottonwoods +Page 285 busband/husband: live with her husband +Page 317 massages/messages: its messages are not only + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crux, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + +***** This file should be named 38551.txt or 38551.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/5/38551/ + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a9ea166 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #38551 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38551) diff --git a/old/38551-8.txt b/old/38551-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4ad516a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/38551-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7512 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crux, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Crux + +Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +Release Date: January 11, 2012 [EBook #38551] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + + + + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + + + + +THE CRUX + + + + +BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN + + + Women and Economics $1.50 + Concerning Children 1.25 + In This Our World (verse) 1.25 + The Yellow Wallpaper (story) 0.50 + The Home 1.00 + Human Work 1.00 + What Diantha Did (novel) 1.00 + The Man-Made World; or, Our Androcentric Culture 1.00 + Moving the Mountain 1.00 + The Crux 1.00 + Suffrage Songs 0.10 + + + + + THE CRUX + + + A NOVEL + BY + CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN + + CHARLTON COMPANY + NEW YORK + 1911 + + + + + Copyright, 1911 + by + Charlotte Perkins Gilman + + + THE CO-OPERATIVE PRESS, 15 SPRUCE STREET, NEW YORK + + + + +PREFACE + + +This story is, first, for young women to read; second, for young men +to read; after that, for anybody who wants to. Anyone who doubts its +facts and figures is referred to "Social Diseases and Marriage," by +Dr. Prince Morrow, or to "Hygiene and Morality," by Miss Lavinia Dock, +a trained nurse of long experience. + +Some will hold that the painful facts disclosed are unfit for young +girls to know. Young girls are precisely the ones who must know them, +in order that they may protect themselves and their children to come. +The time to know of danger is before it is too late to avoid it. + +If some say "Innocence is the greatest charm of young girls," the +answer is, "What good does it do them?" + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. THE BACK WAY 9 + + II. BAINVILLE EFFECTS 31 + + III. THE OUTBREAK 60 + + IV. TRANSPLANTED 81 + + V. CONTRASTS 101 + + VI. NEW FRIENDS AND OLD 126 + + VII. SIDE LIGHTS 149 + + VIII. A MIXTURE 174 + + IX. CONSEQUENCES 204 + + X. DETERMINATION 229 + + XI. THEREAFTER 256 + + XII. ACHIEVEMENTS 283 + + + + + _Who should know but the woman?--The young wife-to-be? + Whose whole life hangs on the choice; + To her the ruin, the misery; + To her, the deciding voice._ + + _Who should know but the woman?--The mother-to-be? + Guardian, Giver, and Guide; + If she may not foreknow, forejudge and foresee, + What safety has childhood beside?_ + + _Who should know but the woman?--The girl in her youth? + The hour of the warning is then, + That, strong in her knowledge and free in her truth, + She may build a new race of new men._ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE BACK WAY + + Along the same old garden path, + Sweet with the same old flowers; + Under the lilacs, darkly dense, + The easy gate in the backyard fence-- + Those unforgotten hours! + + +The "Foote Girls" were bustling along Margate Street with an air of +united purpose that was unusual with them. Miss Rebecca wore her black +silk cloak, by which it might be seen that "a call" was toward. Miss +Jessie, the thin sister, and Miss Sallie, the fat one, were more +hastily attired. They were persons of less impressiveness than Miss +Rebecca, as was tacitly admitted by their more familiar nicknames, a +concession never made by the older sister. + +Even Miss Rebecca was hurrying a little, for her, but the others were +swifter and more impatient. + +"Do come on, Rebecca. Anybody'd think you were eighty instead of +fifty!" said Miss Sallie. + +"There's Mrs. Williams going in! I wonder if she's heard already. Do +hurry!" urged Miss Josie. + +But Miss Rebecca, being concerned about her dignity, would not allow +herself to be hustled, and the three proceeded in irregular order +under the high-arched elms and fence-topping syringas of the small New +England town toward the austere home of Mr. Samuel Lane. + +It was a large, uncompromising, square, white house, planted starkly in +the close-cut grass. It had no porch for summer lounging, no front gate +for evening dalliance, no path-bordering beds of flowers from which to +pluck a hasty offering or more redundant tribute. The fragrance which +surrounded it came from the back yard, or over the fences of neighbors; +the trees which waved greenly about it were the trees of other people. +Mr. Lane had but two trees, one on each side of the straight and narrow +path, evenly placed between house and sidewalk--evergreens. + +Mrs. Lane received them amiably; the minister's new wife, Mrs. +Williams, was proving a little difficult to entertain. She was from +Cambridge, Mass., and emanated a restrained consciousness of that +fact. Mr. Lane rose stiffly and greeted them. He did not like the +Foote girls, not having the usual American's share of the sense of +humor. He had no enjoyment of the town joke, as old as they were, that +"the three of them made a full yard;" and had frowned down as a +profane impertinent the man--a little sore under some effect of +gossip--who had amended it with "make an 'ell, I say." + +Safely seated in their several rocking chairs, and severally rocking +them, the Misses Foote burst forth, as was their custom, in +simultaneous, though by no means identical remarks. + +"I suppose you've heard about Morton Elder?" + +"What do you think Mort Elder's been doing now?" + +"We've got bad news for poor Miss Elder!" + +Mrs. Lane was intensely interested. Even Mr. Lane showed signs of +animation. + +"I'm not surprised," he said. + +"He's done it now," opined Miss Josie with conviction. "I always said +Rella Elder was spoiling that boy." + +"It's too bad--after all she's done for him! He always was a scamp!" +Thus Miss Sallie. + +"I've been afraid of it all along," Miss Rebecca was saying, her voice +booming through the lighter tones of her sisters. "I always said he'd +never get through college." + +"But who is Morton Elder, and what has he done?" asked Mrs. Williams +as soon as she could be heard. + +This lady now proved a most valuable asset. She was so new to the +town, and had been so immersed in the suddenly widening range of her +unsalaried duties as "minister's wife," that she had never even heard +of Morton Elder. + +A new resident always fans the languishing flame of local +conversation. The whole shopworn stock takes on a fresh lustre, topics +long trampled flat in much discussion lift their heads anew, opinions +one scarce dared to repeat again become almost authoritative, old +stories flourish freshly, acquiring new detail and more vivid color. + +Mrs. Lane, seizing her opportunity while the sisters gasped a momentary +amazement at anyone's not knowing the town scapegrace, and taking +advantage of her position as old friend and near neighbor of the family +under discussion, swept into the field under such headway that even the +Foote girls remained silent perforce; surcharged, however, and holding +their breaths in readiness to burst forth at the first opening. + +"He's the nephew--orphan nephew--of Miss Elder--who lives right back +of us--our yards touch--we've always been friends--went to school +together, Rella's never married--she teaches, you know--and her +brother--he owned the home--it's all hers now, he died all of a sudden +and left two children--Morton and Susie. Mort was about seven years +old and Susie just a baby. He's been an awful cross--but she just +idolizes him--she's spoiled him, I tell her." + +Mrs. Lane had to breathe, and even the briefest pause left her stranded +to wait another chance. The three social benefactors proceeded to +distribute their information in a clattering torrent. They sought to +inform Mrs. Williams in especial, of numberless details of the early +life and education of their subject, matters which would have been +treated more appreciatively if they had not been blessed with the later +news; and, at the same time, each was seeking for a more dramatic +emphasis to give this last supply of incident with due effect. + +No regular record is possible where three persons pour forth statement +and comment in a rapid, tumultuous stream, interrupted by cross +currents of heated contradiction, and further varied by the +exclamations and protests of three hearers, or at least, of two; for +the one man present soon relapsed into disgusted silence. + +Mrs. Williams, turning a perplexed face from one to the other, inwardly +condemning the darkening flood of talk, yet conscious of a sinful +pleasure in it, and anxious as a guest, _and_ a minister's wife, to be +most amiable, felt like one watching three kinetescopes at once. She +saw, in confused pictures of blurred and varying outline, Orella Elder, +the young New England girl, only eighteen, already a "school ma'am," +suddenly left with two children to bring up, and doing it, as best she +could. She saw the boy, momentarily changing, in his shuttlecock flight +from mouth to mouth, through pale shades of open mischief to the black +and scarlet of hinted sin, the terror of the neighborhood, the darling +of his aunt, clever, audacious, scandalizing the quiet town. + +"Boys are apt to be mischievous, aren't they?" she suggested when it +was possible. + +"He's worse than mischievous," Mr. Lane assured her sourly. "There's a +mean streak in that family." + +"That's on his mother's side," Mrs. Lane hastened to add. "She was a +queer girl--came from New York." + +The Foote girls began again, with rich profusion of detail, their +voices rising shrill, one above the other, and playing together at +their full height like emulous fountains. + +"We ought not to judge, you know;" urged Mrs. Williams. "What do you +say he's really done?" + +Being sifted, it appeared that this last and most terrible performance +was to go to "the city" with a group of "the worst boys of college," +to get undeniably drunk, to do some piece of mischief. (Here was great +licence in opinion, and in contradiction.) + +"_Anyway_ he's to be suspended!" said Miss Rebecca with finality. + +"Suspended!" Miss Josie's voice rose in scorn. "_Expelled!_ They said +he was expelled." + +"In disgrace!" added Miss Sallie. + +Vivian Lane sat in the back room at the window, studying in the +lingering light of the long June evening. At least, she appeared to be +studying. Her tall figure was bent over her books, but the dark eyes +blazed under their delicate level brows, and her face flushed and +paled with changing feelings. + +She had heard--who, in the same house, could escape hearing the Misses +Foote?--and had followed the torrent of description, hearsay, surmise +and allegation with an interest that was painful in its intensity. + +"It's a _shame_!" she whispered under her breath. "A _shame_! And +nobody to stand up for him!" + +She half rose to her feet as if to do it herself, but sank back +irresolutely. + +A fresh wave of talk rolled forth. + +"It'll half kill his aunt." + +"Poor Miss Elder! I don't know what she'll do!" + +"I don't know what _he'll_ do. He can't go back to college." + +"He'll have to go to work." + +"I'd like to know where--nobody'd hire him in this town." + +The girl could bear it no longer. She came to the door, and there, as +they paused to speak to her, her purpose ebbed again. + +"My daughter, Vivian, Mrs. Williams," said her mother; and the other +callers greeted her familiarly. + +"You'd better finish your lessons, Vivian," Mr. Lane suggested. + +"I have, father," said the girl, and took a chair by the minister's +wife. She had a vague feeling that if she were there, they would not +talk so about Morton Elder. + +Mrs. Williams hailed the interruption gratefully. She liked the +slender girl with the thoughtful eyes and pretty, rather pathetic +mouth, and sought to draw her out. But her questions soon led to +unfortunate results. + +"You are going to college, I suppose?" she presently inquired; and +Vivian owned that it was the desire of her heart. + +"Nonsense!" said her father. "Stuff and nonsense, Vivian! You're not +going to college." + +The Foote girls now burst forth in voluble agreement with Mr. Lane. +His wife was evidently of the same mind; and Mrs. Williams plainly +regretted her question. But Vivian mustered courage enough to make a +stand, strengthened perhaps by the depth of the feeling which had +brought her into the room. + +"I don't know why you're all so down on a girl's going to college. Eve +Marks has gone, and Mary Spring is going--and both the Austin girls. +Everybody goes now." + +"I know one girl that won't," was her father's incisive comment, and her +mother said quietly, "A girl's place is at home--'till she marries." + +"Suppose I don't want to marry?" said Vivian. + +"Don't talk nonsense," her father answered. "Marriage is a woman's +duty." + +"What do you want to do?" asked Miss Josie in the interests of further +combat. "Do you want to be a doctor, like Jane Bellair?" + +"I should like to very much indeed," said the girl with quiet +intensity. "I'd like to be a doctor in a babies' hospital." + +"More nonsense," said Mr. Lane. "Don't talk to me about that woman! +You attend to your studies, and then to your home duties, my dear." + +The talk rose anew, the three sisters contriving all to agree with Mr. +Lane in his opinions about college, marriage and Dr. Bellair, yet to +disagree violently among themselves. + +Mrs. Williams rose to go, and in the lull that followed the liquid +note of a whippoorwill met the girl's quick ear. She quietly slipped +out, unnoticed. + +The Lane's home stood near the outer edge of the town, with an outlook +across wide meadows and soft wooded hills. Behind, their long garden +backed on that of Miss Orella Elder, with a connecting gate in the +gray board fence. Mrs. Lane had grown up here. The house belonged to +her mother, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, though that able lady was seldom +in it, preferring to make herself useful among two growing sets of +grandchildren. + +Miss Elder was Vivian's favorite teacher. She was a careful and +conscientious instructor, and the girl was a careful and conscientious +scholar; so they got on admirably together; indeed, there was a real +affection between them. And just as the young Laura Pettigrew had +played with the younger Orella Elder, so Vivian had played with little +Susie Elder, Miss Orella's orphan niece. Susie regarded the older girl +with worshipful affection, which was not at all unpleasant to an +emotional young creature with unemotional parents, and no brothers or +sisters of her own. + +Moreover, Susie was Morton's sister. + +The whippoorwill's cry sounded again through the soft June night. +Vivian came quickly down the garden path between the bordering beds of +sweet alyssum and mignonette. A dew-wet rose brushed against her hand. +She broke it off, pricking her fingers, and hastily fastened it in the +bosom of her white frock. + +Large old lilac bushes hung over the dividing fence, a thick mass of +honeysuckle climbed up by the gate and mingled with them, spreading +over to a pear tree on the Lane side. In this fragrant, hidden corner +was a rough seat, and from it a boy's hand reached out and seized the +girl's, drawing her down beside him. She drew away from him as far as +the seat allowed. + +"Oh Morton!" she said. "What have you done?" + +Morton was sulky. + +"Now Vivian, are you down on me too? I thought I had one friend." + +"You ought to tell me," she said more gently. "How can I be your friend +if I don't know the facts? They are saying perfectly awful things." + +"Who are?" + +"Why--the Foote girls--everybody." + +"Oh those old maids aren't everybody, I assure you. You see, Vivian, +you live right here in this old oyster of a town--and you make +mountains out of molehills like everybody else. A girl of your +intelligence ought to know better." + +She drew a great breath of relief. "Then you haven't--done it?" + +"Done what? What's all this mysterious talk anyhow? The prisoner has a +right to know what he's charged with before he commits himself." + +The girl was silent, finding it difficult to begin. + +"Well, out with it. What do they say I did?" He picked up a long dry +twig and broke it, gradually, into tiny, half-inch bits. + +"They say you--went to the city--with a lot of the worst boys in +college----" + +"Well? Many persons go to the city every day. That's no crime, surely. +As for 'the worst boys in college,'"--he laughed scornfully--"I +suppose those old ladies think if a fellow smokes a cigarette or says +'darn' he's a tough. They're mighty nice fellows, that bunch--most of +'em. Got some ginger in 'em, that's all. What else?" + +"They say--you drank." + +"O ho! Said I got drunk, I warrant! Well--we did have a skate on that +time, I admit!" And he laughed as if this charge were but a familiar +joke. + +"Why Morton Elder! I think it is a--disgrace!" + +"Pshaw, Vivian!--You ought to have more sense. All the fellows get gay +once in a while. A college isn't a young ladies' seminary." + +He reached out and got hold of her hand again, but she drew it away. + +"There was something else," she said. + +"What was it?" he questioned sharply. "What did they say?" + +But she would not satisfy him--perhaps could not. + +"I should think you'd be ashamed, to make your aunt so much trouble. +They said you were suspended--or--_expelled_!" + +He shrugged his big shoulders and threw away the handful of broken +twigs. + +"That's true enough--I might as well admit that." + +"Oh, _Morton_!--I didn't believe it. _Expelled!_" + +"Yes, expelled--turned down--thrown out--fired! And I'm glad of it." He +leaned back against the fence and whistled very softly through his +teeth. + +"Sh! Sh!" she urged. "Please!" + +He was quiet. + +"But Morton--what are you going to do?--Won't it spoil your career?" + +"No, my dear little girl, it will not!" said he. "On the contrary, it +will be the making of me. I tell you, Vivian, I'm sick to death of this +town of maiden ladies--and 'good family men.' I'm sick of being fussed +over for ever and ever, and having wristers and mufflers knitted for +me--and being told to put on my rubbers! There's no fun in this old +clamshell--this kitchen-midden of a town--and I'm going to quit it." + +He stood up and stretched his long arms. "I'm going to quit it for +good and all." + +The girl sat still, her hands gripping the seat on either side. + +"Where are you going?" she asked in a low voice. + +"I'm going west--clear out west. I've been talking with Aunt Rella +about it. Dr. Bellair'll help me to a job, she thinks. She's awful cut +up, of course. I'm sorry she feels bad--but she needn't, I tell her. I +shall do better there than I ever should have here. I know a fellow +that left college--his father failed--and he went into business and +made two thousand dollars in a year. I always wanted to take up +business--you know that!" + +She knew it--he had talked of it freely before they had argued and +persuaded him into the college life. She knew, too, how his aunt's hopes +all centered in him, and in his academic honors and future professional +life. "Business," to his aunt's mind, was a necessary evil, which could +at best be undertaken only after a "liberal education." + +"When are you going," she asked at length. + +"Right off--to-morrow." + +She gave a little gasp. + +"That's what I was whippoorwilling about--I knew I'd get no other +chance to talk to you--I wanted to say good-by, you know." + +The girl sat silent, struggling not to cry. He dropped beside her, +stole an arm about her waist, and felt her tremble. + +"Now, Viva, don't you go and cry! I'm sorry--I really am sorry--to +make _you_ feel bad." + +This was too much for her, and she sobbed frankly. + +"Oh, Morton! How could you! How could you!--And now you've got to go +away!" + +"There now--don't cry--sh!--they'll hear you." + +She did hush at that. + +"And don't feel so bad--I'll come back some time--to see you." + +"No, you won't!" she answered with sudden fierceness. "You'll just +go--and stay--and I never shall see you again!" + +He drew her closer to him. "And do you care--so much--Viva?" + +"Of course, I care!" she said, "Haven't we always been friends, the +best of friends?" + +"Yes--you and Aunt Rella have been about all I had," he admitted with +a cheerful laugh. "I hope I'll make more friends out yonder. But +Viva,"--his hand pressed closer--"is it only--friends?" + +She took fright at once and drew away from him. "You mustn't do that, +Morton!" + +"Do what?" A shaft of moonlight shone on his teasing face. "What am I +doing?" he said. + +It is difficult--it is well nigh impossible--for a girl to put a name +to certain small cuddlings not in themselves terrifying, nor even +unpleasant, but which she obscurely feels to be wrong. + +Viva flushed and was silent--he could see the rich color flood her face. + +"Come now--don't be hard on a fellow!" he urged. "I shan't see you again +in ever so long. You'll forget all about me before a year's over." + +She shook her head, still silent. + +"Won't you speak to me--Viva?" + +"I wish----" She could not find the words she wanted. "Oh, I wish +you--wouldn't!" + +"Wouldn't what, Girlie? Wouldn't go away? Sorry to disoblige--but I +have to. There's no place for me here." + +The girl felt the sad truth of that. + +"Aunt Rella will get used to it after a while. I'll write to her--I'll +make lots of money--and come back in a few years--astonish you +all!--Meanwhile--kiss me good-by, Viva!" + +She drew back shyly. She had never kissed him. She had never in her +life kissed any man younger than an uncle. + +"No, Morton--you mustn't----" She shrank away into the shadow. + +But, there was no great distance to shrink to, and his strong arms +soon drew her close again. + +"Suppose you never see me again," he said. "Then you'll wish you +hadn't been so stiff about it." + +She thought of this dread possibility with a sudden chill of horror, +and while she hesitated, he took her face between her hands and kissed +her on the mouth. + +Steps were heard coming down the path. + +"They're on," he said with a little laugh. "Good-by, Viva!" + +He vaulted the fence and was gone. + +"What are you doing here, Vivian?" demanded her father. + +"I was saying good-by to Morton," she answered with a sob. + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself--philandering out here in the +middle of the night with that scapegrace! Come in the house and go to +bed at once--it's ten o'clock." + +Bowing to this confused but almost equally incriminating chronology, +she followed him in, meekly enough as to her outward seeming, but +inwardly in a state of stormy tumult. + +She had been kissed! + +Her father's stiff back before her could not blot out the radiant, +melting moonlight, the rich sweetness of the flowers, the tender, +soft, June night. + +"You go to bed," said he once more. "I'm ashamed of you." + +"Yes, father," she answered. + +Her little room, when at last she was safely in it and had shut the +door and put a chair against it--she had no key--seemed somehow changed. + +She lit the lamp and stood looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes +were star-bright. Her cheeks flamed softly. Her mouth looked guilty +and yet glad. + +She put the light out and went to the window, kneeling there, leaning +out in the fragrant stillness, trying to arrange in her mind this +mixture of grief, disapproval, shame and triumph. + +When the Episcopal church clock struck eleven, she went to bed in +guilty haste, but not to sleep. + +For a long time she lay there watching the changing play of moonlight +on the floor. + +She felt almost as if she were married. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +BAINVILLE EFFECTS. + + Lockstep, handcuffs, ankle-ball-and-chain, + Dulltoil and dreary food and drink; + Small cell, cold cell, narrow bed and hard; + High wall, thick wall, window iron-barred; + Stone-paved, stone-pent little prison yard-- + Young hearts weary of monotony and pain, + Young hearts weary of reiterant refrain: + "They say--they do--what will people think?" + + +At the two front windows of their rather crowded little parlor sat +Miss Rebecca and Miss Josie Foote, Miss Sallie being out on a foraging +expedition--marketing, as it were, among their neighbors to collect +fresh food for thought. + +A tall, slender girl in brown passed on the opposite walk. + +"I should think Vivian Lane would get tired of wearing brown," said +Miss Rebecca. + +"I don't know why she should," her sister promptly protested, "it's a +good enough wearing color, and becoming to her." + +"She could afford to have more variety," said Miss Rebecca. "The Lanes +are mean enough about some things, but I know they'd like to have her +dress better. She'll never get married in the world." + +"I don't know why not. She's only twenty-five--and good-looking." + +"Good-looking! That's not everything. Plenty of girls marry that are +not good-looking--and plenty of good-looking girls stay single." + +"Plenty of homely ones, too. Rebecca," said Miss Josie, with meaning. +Miss Rebecca certainly was not handsome. "Going to the library, of +course!" she pursued presently. "That girl reads all the time." + +"So does her grandmother. I see her going and coming from that library +every day almost." + +"Oh, well--she reads stories and things like that. Sallie goes pretty +often and she notices. We use that library enough, goodness knows, but +they are there every day. Vivian Lane reads the queerest +things--doctor's books and works on pedagoggy." + +"Godgy," said Miss Rebecca, "not goggy." And as her sister ignored +this correction, she continued: "They might as well have let her go to +college when she was so set on it." + +"College! I don't believe she'd have learned as much in any college, +from what I hear of 'em, as she has in all this time at home." The +Foote girls had never entertained a high opinion of extensive culture. + +"I don't see any use in a girl's studying so much," said Miss Rebecca +with decision. + +"Nor I," agreed Miss Josie. "Men don't like learned women." + +"They don't seem to always like those that aren't learned, either," +remarked Miss Rebecca with a pleasant sense of retribution for that +remark about "homely ones." + +The tall girl in brown had seen the two faces at the windows opposite, +and had held her shoulders a little straighter as she turned the corner. + +"Nine years this Summer since Morton Elder went West," murmured Miss +Josie, reminiscently. "I shouldn't wonder if Vivian had stayed single +on his account." + +"Nonsense!" her sister answered sharply. "She's not that kind. She's +not popular with men, that's all. She's too intellectual." + +"She ought to be in the library instead of Sue Elder," Miss Rebecca +suggested. "She's far more competent. Sue's a feather-headed little +thing." + +"She seems to give satisfaction so far. If the trustees are pleased +with her, there's no reason for you to complain that I see," said Miss +Rebecca with decision. + + * * * * * + +Vivian Lane waited at the library desk with an armful of books to take +home. She had her card, her mother's and her father's--all utilized. +Her grandmother kept her own card--and her own counsel. + +The pretty assistant librarian, withdrawing herself with some emphasis +from the unnecessary questions of a too gallant old gentleman, came to +attend her. + +"You _have_ got a load," she said, scribbling complex figures with one +end of her hammer-headed pencil, and stamping violet dates with the +other. She whisked out the pale blue slips from the lid pockets, +dropped them into their proper openings in the desk and inserted the +cards in their stead with delicate precision. + +"Can't you wait a bit and go home with me?" she asked. "I'll help you +carry them." + +"No, thanks. I'm not going right home." + +"You're going to see your Saint--I know!" said Miss Susie, tossing her +bright head. "I'm jealous, and you know it." + +"Don't be a goose, Susie! You know you're my very best friend, +but--she's different." + +"I should think she was different!" Susie sharply agreed. "And you've +been 'different' ever since she came." + +"I hope so," said Vivian gravely. "Mrs. St. Cloud brings out one's +very best and highest. I wish you liked her better, Susie." + +"I like you," Susie answered. "You bring out my 'best and highest'--if +I've got any. She don't. She's like a lovely, faint, bright--bubble! I +want to prick it!" + +Vivian smiled down upon her. + +"You bad little mouse!" she said. "Come, give me the books." + +"Leave them with me, and I'll bring them in the car." Susie looked +anxious to make amends for her bit of blasphemy. + +"All right, dear. Thank you. I'll be home by that time, probably." + + * * * * * + +In the street she stopped before a little shop where papers and +magazines were sold. + +"I believe Father'd like the new Centurion," she said to herself, and +got it for him, chatting a little with the one-armed man who kept the +place. She stopped again at a small florist's and bought a little bag +of bulbs. + +"Your mother's forgotten about those, I guess," said Mrs. Crothers, the +florist's wife, "but they'll do just as well now. Lucky you thought of +them before it got too late in the season. Bennie was awfully pleased +with that red and blue pencil you gave him, Miss Lane." + +Vivian walked on. A child ran out suddenly from a gate and seized upon +her. + +"Aren't you coming in to see me--ever?" she demanded. + +Vivian stooped and kissed her. + +"Yes, dear, but not to-night. How's that dear baby getting on?" + +"She's better," said the little girl. "Mother said thank you--lots of +times. Wait a minute--" + +The child fumbled in Vivian's coat pocket with a mischievous upward +glance, fished out a handful of peanuts, and ran up the path laughing +while the tall girl smiled down upon her lovingly. + +A long-legged boy was lounging along the wet sidewalk. Vivian caught +up with him and he joined her with eagerness. + +"Good evening, Miss Lane. Say--are you coming to the club to-morrow +night?" + +She smiled cordially. + +"Of course I am, Johnny. I wouldn't disappoint my boys for +anything--nor myself, either." + +They walked on together chatting until, at the minister's house, she +bade him a cheery "good-night." + +Mrs. St. Cloud was at the window pensively watching the western sky. +She saw the girl coming and let her in with a tender, radiant +smile--a lovely being in a most unlovely room. + +There was a chill refinement above subdued confusion in that +Cambridge-Bainville parlor, where the higher culture of the second +Mrs. Williams, superimposed upon the lower culture of the first, as +that upon the varying tastes of a combined ancestry, made the place +somehow suggestive of excavations at Abydos. + +It was much the kind of parlor Vivian had been accustomed to from +childhood, but Mrs. St. Cloud was of a type quite new to her. Clothed +in soft, clinging fabrics, always with a misty, veiled effect to them, +wearing pale amber, large, dull stones of uncertain shapes, and +slender chains that glittered here and there among her scarfs and +laces, sinking gracefully among deep cushions, even able to sink +gracefully into a common Bainville chair--this beautiful woman had +captured the girl's imagination from the first. + +Clearly known, she was a sister of Mrs. Williams, visiting +indefinitely. Vaguely--and very frequently--hinted, her husband had +"left her," and "she did not believe in divorce." Against her +background of dumb patience, he shone darkly forth as A Brute of +unknown cruelties. Nothing against him would she ever say, and every +young masculine heart yearned to make life brighter to the Ideal +Woman, so strangely neglected; also some older ones. Her Young Men's +Bible Class was the pride of Mr. Williams' heart and joy of such young +men as the town possessed; most of Bainville's boys had gone. + +"A wonderful uplifting influence," Mr. Williams called her, and +refused to say anything, even when directly approached, as to "the +facts" of her trouble. "It is an old story," he would say. "She bears +up wonderfully. She sacrifices her life rather than her principles." + +To Vivian, sitting now on a hassock at the lady's feet and looking up +at her with adoring eyes, she was indeed a star, a saint, a cloud of +mystery. + +She reached out a soft hand, white, slender, delicately kept, wearing +one thin gold ring, and stroked the girl's smooth hair. Vivian seized +the hand and kissed it, blushing as she did so. + +"You foolish child! Don't waste your young affection on an old lady +like me." + +"Old! You! You don't look as old as I do this minute!" said the girl +with hushed intensity. + +"Life wears on you, I'm afraid, my dear.... Do you ever hear from him?" + +To no one else, not even to Susie, could Vivian speak of what now +seemed the tragedy of her lost youth. + +"No," said she. "Never now. He did write once or twice--at first." + +"He writes to his aunt, of course?" + +"Yes," said Vivian. "But not often. And he never--says anything." + +"I understand. Poor child! You must be true, and wait." And the lady +turned the thin ring on her finger. Vivian watched her in a passion of +admiring tenderness. + +"Oh, you understand!" she exclaimed. "You understand!" + +"I understand, my dear," said Mrs. St. Cloud. + +When Vivian reached her own gate she leaned her arms upon it and +looked first one way and then the other, down the long, still street. +The country was in sight at both ends--the low, monotonous, wooded +hills that shut them in. It was all familiar, wearingly familiar. She +had known it continuously for such part of her lifetime as was +sensitive to landscape effects, and had at times a mad wish for an +earthquake to change the outlines a little. + +The infrequent trolley car passed just then and Sue Elder joined her, +to take the short cut home through the Lane's yard. + +"Here you are," she said cheerfully, "and here are the books." + +Vivian thanked her. + +"Oh, say--come in after supper, can't you? Aunt Rella's had another +letter from Mort." + +Vivian's sombre eyes lit up a little. + +"How's he getting on? In the same business he was last year?" she +asked with an elaborately cheerful air. Morton had seemed to change +occupations oftener than he wrote letters. + +"Yes, I believe so. I guess he's well. He never says much, you know. +I don't think it's good for him out there--good for any boy." And +Susie looked quite the older sister. + +"What are they to do? They can't stay here." + +"No, I suppose not--but we have to." + +"Dr. Bellair didn't," remarked Vivian. "I like her--tremendously, +don't you?" In truth, Dr. Bellair was already a close second to Mrs. +St. Cloud in the girl's hero-worshipping heart. + +"Oh, yes; she's splendid! Aunt Rella is so glad to have her with us. +They have great times recalling their school days together. Aunty used +to like her then, though she is five years older--but you'd never +dream it. And I think she's real handsome." + +"She's not beautiful," said Vivian, with decision, "but she's a lot +better. Sue Elder, I wish----" + +"Wish what?" asked her friend. + +Sue put the books on the gate-post, and the two girls, arm in arm, +walked slowly up and down. + +Susie was a round, palely rosy little person, with a delicate face and +soft, light hair waving fluffily about her small head. Vivian's hair was +twice the length, but so straight and fine that its mass had no effect. +She wore it in smooth plaits wound like a wreath from brow to nape. + +After an understanding silence and a walk past three gates and back +again, Vivian answered her. + +"I wish I were in your shoes," she said. + +"What do you mean--having the Doctor in the house?" + +"No--I'd like that too; but I mean work to do--your position." + +"Oh, the library! You needn't; it's horrid. I wish I were in your shoes, +and had a father and mother to take care of me. I can tell you, it's no +fun--having to be there just on time or get fined, and having to poke +away all day with those phooty old ladies and tiresome children." + +"But you're independent." + +"Oh, yes, I'm independent. I have to be. Aunt Rella _could_ take care +of me, I suppose, but of course I wouldn't let her. And I dare say +library work is better than school-teaching." + +"What'll we be doing when we're forty, I wonder?" said Vivian, after +another turn. + +"Forty! Why I expect to be a grandma by that time," said Sue. She was +but twenty-one, and forty looked a long way off to her. + +"A grandma! And knit?" suggested Vivian. + +"Oh, yes--baby jackets--and blankets--and socks--and little shawls. I +love to knit," said Sue, cheerfully. + +"But suppose you don't marry?" pursued her friend. + +"Oh, but I shall marry--you see if I don't. Marriage"--here she +carefully went inside the gate and latched it--"marriage is--a woman's +duty!" And she ran up the path laughing. + +Vivian laughed too, rather grimly, and slowly walked towards her own +door. + +The little sitting-room was hot, very hot; but Mr. Lane sat with his +carpet-slippered feet on its narrow hearth with a shawl around him. + +"Shut the door, Vivian!" he exclaimed irritably. "I'll never get over +this cold if such draughts are let in on me." + +"Why, it's not cold out, Father--and it's very close in here." + +Mrs. Lane looked up from her darning. "You think it's close because +you've come in from outdoors. Sit down--and don't fret your father; +I'm real worried about him." + +Mr. Lane coughed hollowly. He had become a little dry old man with +gray, glassy eyes, and had been having colds in this fashion ever +since Vivian could remember. + +"Dr. Bellair says that the out-door air is the best medicine for a +cold," remarked Vivian, as she took off her things. + +"Dr. Bellair has not been consulted in this case," her father returned +wheezingly. "I'm quite satisfied with my family physician. He's a man, +at any rate." + +"Save me from these women doctors!" exclaimed his wife. + +Vivian set her lips patiently. She had long since learned how widely she +differed from both father and mother, and preferred silence to dispute. + +Mr. Lane was a plain, ordinary person, who spent most of a moderately +useful life in the shoe business, from which he had of late withdrawn. +Both he and his wife "had property" to a certain extent; and now lived +peacefully on their income with neither fear nor hope, ambition nor +responsibility to trouble them. The one thing they were yet anxious +about was to see Vivian married, but this wish seemed to be no nearer +to fulfillment for the passing years. + +"I don't know what the women are thinking of, these days," went on the +old gentleman, putting another shovelful of coal on the fire with a +careful hand. "Doctors and lawyers and even ministers, some of 'em! +The Lord certainly set down a woman's duty pretty plain--she was to +cleave unto her husband!" + +"Some women have no husbands to cleave to, Father." + +"They'd have husbands fast enough if they'd behave themselves," he +answered. "No man's going to want to marry one of these +self-sufficient independent, professional women, of course." + +"I do hope, Viva," said her mother, "that you're not letting that Dr. +Bellair put foolish ideas into your head." + +"I want to do something to support myself--sometime, Mother. I can't +live on my parents forever." + +"You be patient, child. There's money enough for you to live on. It's +a woman's place to wait," put in Mr. Lane. + +"How long?" inquired Vivian. "I'm twenty-five. No man has asked me to +marry him yet. Some of the women in this town have waited +thirty--forty--fifty--sixty years. No one has asked them." + +"I was married at sixteen," suddenly remarked Vivian's grandmother. +"And my mother wasn't but fifteen. Huh!" A sudden little derisive +noise she made; such as used to be written "humph!" + +For the past five years, Mrs. Pettigrew had made her home with the +Lanes. Mrs. Lane herself was but a feeble replica of her energetic +parent. There was but seventeen years difference in their ages, and +comparative idleness with some ill-health on the part of the +daughter, had made the difference appear less. + +Mrs. Pettigrew had but a poor opinion of the present generation. In her +active youth she had reared a large family on a small income; in her +active middle-age, she had trotted about from daughter's house to son's +house, helping with the grandchildren. And now she still trotted about +in all weathers, visiting among the neighbors and vibrating as regularly +as a pendulum between her daughter's house and the public library. + +The books she brought home were mainly novels, and if she perused +anything else in the severe quiet of the reading-room, she did not talk +about it. Indeed, it was a striking characteristic of Mrs. Pettigrew +that she talked very little, though she listened to all that went on +with a bright and beady eye, as of a highly intelligent parrot. And now, +having dropped her single remark into the conversation, she shut her +lips tight as was her habit, and drew another ball of worsted from the +black bag that always hung at her elbow. + +She was making one of those perennial knitted garments, which, in her +young days, were called "Cardigan jackets," later "Jerseys," and now by +the offensive name of "sweater." These she constructed in great numbers, +and their probable expense was a source of discussion in the town. "How +do you find friends enough to give them to?" they asked her, and she +would smile enigmatically and reply, "Good presents make good friends." + +"If a woman minds her P's and Q's she can get a husband easy enough," +insisted the invalid. "Just shove that lamp nearer, Vivian, will you." + +Vivian moved the lamp. Her mother moved her chair to follow it and +dropped her darning egg, which the girl handed to her. + +"Supper's ready," announced a hard-featured middle-aged woman, opening +the dining-room door. + +At this moment the gate clicked, and a firm step was heard coming up +the path. + +"Gracious, that's the minister!" cried Mrs. Lane. "He said he'd be in +this afternoon if he got time. I thought likely 'twould be to supper." + +She received him cordially, and insisted on his staying, slipping out +presently to open a jar of quinces. + +The Reverend Otis Williams was by no means loathe to take occasional +meals with his parishioners. It was noted that, in making pastoral +calls, he began with the poorer members of his flock, and frequently +arrived about meal-time at the houses of those whose cooking he +approved. + +"It is always a treat to take supper here," he said. "Not feeling +well, Mr. Lane? I'm sorry to hear it. Ah! Mrs. Pettigrew! Is that +jacket for me, by any chance? A little sombre, isn't it? Good evening, +Vivian. You are looking well--as you always do." + +Vivian did not like him. He had married her mother, he had christened +her, she had "sat under" him for long, dull, uninterrupted years; yet +still she didn't like him. + +"A chilly evening, Mr. Lane," he pursued. + +"That's what I say," his host agreed. "Vivian says it isn't; I say it +is." + +"Disagreement in the family! This won't do, Vivian," said the minister +jocosely. "Duty to parents, you know! Duty to parents!" + +"Does duty to parents alter the temperature?" the girl asked, in a voice +of quiet sweetness, yet with a rebellious spark in her soft eyes. + +"Huh!" said her grandmother--and dropped her gray ball. Vivian picked +it up and the old lady surreptitiously patted her. + +"Pardon me," said the reverend gentleman to Mrs. Pettigrew, "did you +speak?" + +"No," said the old lady, "Seldom do." + +"Silence is golden, Mrs. Pettigrew. Silence is golden. Speech is +silver, but silence is golden. It is a rare gift." + +Mrs. Pettigrew set her lips so tightly that they quite disappeared, +leaving only a thin dented line in her smoothly pale face. She was +called by the neighbors "wonderfully well preserved," a phrase she +herself despised. Some visitor, new to the town, had the hardihood to +use it to her face once. "Huh!" was the response. "I'm just sixty. Henry +Haskins and George Baker and Stephen Doolittle are all older'n I +am--and still doing business, doing it better'n any of the young folks +as far as I can see. You don't compare them to canned pears, do you?" + +Mr. Williams knew her value in church work, and took no umbrage at her +somewhat inimical expression; particularly as just then Mrs. Lane +appeared and asked them to walk out to supper. + +Vivian sat among them, restrained and courteous, but inwardly at war +with her surroundings. Here was her mother, busy, responsible, serving +creamed codfish and hot biscuit; her father, eating wheezily, and +finding fault with the biscuit, also with the codfish; her +grandmother, bright-eyed, thin-lipped and silent. Vivian got on well +with her grandmother, though neither of them talked much. + +"My mother used to say that the perfect supper was cake, preserves, +hot bread, and a 'relish,'" said Mr. Williams genially. "You have the +perfect supper, Mrs. Lane." + +"I'm glad if you enjoy it, I'm sure," said that lady. "I'm fond of a +bit of salt myself." + +"And what are you reading now, Vivian," he asked paternally. + +"Ward," she answered, modestly and briefly. + +"Ward? Dr. Ward of the _Centurion_?" + +Vivian smiled her gentlest. + +"Oh, no," she replied; "Lester F. Ward, the Sociologist." + +"Poor stuff, I think!" said her father. "Girls have no business to +read such things." + +"I wish you'd speak to Vivian about it, Mr. Williams. She's got beyond +me," protested her mother. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "I'd like some more of that quince, Laura." + +"My dear young lady, you are not reading books of which your parents +disapprove, I hope?" urged the minister. + +"Shouldn't I--ever?" asked the girl, in her soft, disarming manner. +"I'm surely old enough!" + +"The duty of a daughter is not measured by years," he replied +sonorously. "Does parental duty cease? Are you not yet a child in your +father's house?" + +"Is a daughter always a child if she lives at home?" inquired the +girl, as one seeking instruction. + +He set down his cup and wiped his lips, flushing somewhat. + +"The duty of a daughter begins at the age when she can understand the +distinction between right and wrong," he said, "and continues as long +as she is blessed with parents." + +"And what is it?" she asked, large-eyed, attentive. + +"What is it?" he repeated, looking at her in some surprise. "It is +submission, obedience--obedience." + +"I see. So Mother ought to obey Grandmother," she pursued +meditatively, and Mrs. Pettigrew nearly choked in her tea. + +Vivian was boiling with rebellion. To sit there and be lectured at the +table, to have her father complain of her, her mother invite pastoral +interference, the minister preach like that. She slapped her +grandmother's shoulder, readjusted the little knit shawl on the +straight back--and refrained from further speech. + +When Mrs. Pettigrew could talk, she demanded suddenly of the +minister, "Have you read Campbell's New Theology?" and from that on +they were all occupied in listening to Mr. Williams' strong, clear and +extensive views on the subject--which lasted into the parlor again. + +Vivian sat for awhile in the chair nearest the window, where some thin +thread of air might possibly leak in, and watched the minister with a +curious expression. All her life he had been held up to her as a +person to honor, as a man of irreproachable character, great learning +and wisdom. Of late she found with a sense of surprise that she did +not honor him at all. He seemed to her suddenly like a relic of past +ages, a piece of an old parchment--or papyrus. In the light of the +studies she had been pursuing in the well-stored town library, the +teachings of this worthy old gentleman appeared a jumble of age-old +traditions, superimposed one upon another. + +"He's a palimpsest," she said to herself, "and a poor palimpsest at +that." + +She sat with her shapely hands quiet in her lap while her +grandmother's shining needles twinkled in the dark wool, and her +mother's slim crochet hook ran along the widening spaces of some thin, +white, fuzzy thing. The rich powers of her young womanhood longed for +occupation, but she could never hypnotize herself with "fancywork." +Her work must be worth while. She felt the crushing cramp and +loneliness of a young mind, really stronger than those about her, yet +held in dumb subjection. She could not solace herself by loving them; +her father would have none of it, and her mother had small use for +what she called "sentiment." All her life Vivian had longed for more +loving, both to give and take; but no one ever imagined it of her, she +was so quiet and repressed in manner. The local opinion was that if a +woman had a head, she could not have a heart; and as to having a +body--it was indelicate to consider such a thing. + +"I mean to have six children," Vivian had planned when she was younger. +"And they shall never be hungry for more loving." She meant to make up +to her vaguely imagined future family for all that her own youth missed. + +Even Grandma, though far more sympathetic in temperament, was not +given to demonstration, and Vivian solaced her big, tender heart by +cuddling all the babies she could reach, and petting cats and dogs +when no children were to be found. + +Presently she arose and bade a courteous goodnight to the still prolix +parson. + +"I'm going over to Sue's," she said, and went out. + + * * * * * + +There was a moon again--a low, large moon, hazily brilliant. The air +was sweet with the odors of scarce-gone Summer, of coming Autumn. + +The girl stood still, half-way down the path, and looked steadily into +that silver radiance. Moonlight always filled her heart with a vague +excitement, a feeling that something ought to happen--soon. + +This flat, narrow life, so long, so endlessly long--would nothing ever +end it? Nine years since Morton went away! Nine years since the +strange, invading thrill of her first kiss! Back of that was only +childhood; these years really constituted Life; and Life, in the +girl's eyes, was a dreary treadmill. + +She was externally quiet, and by conscience dutiful; so dutiful, so +quiet, so without powers of expression, that the ache of an +unsatisfied heart, the stir of young ambitions, were wholly +unsuspected by those about her. A studious, earnest, thoughtful +girl--but study alone does not supply life's needs, nor does such +friendship as her life afforded. + +Susie was "a dear"--Susie was Morton's sister, and she was very fond +of her. But that bright-haired child did not understand--could not +understand--all that she needed. + +Then came Mrs. St. Cloud into her life, stirring the depths of romance, +of the buried past, and of the unborn future. From her she learned to +face a life of utter renunciation, to be true, true to her ideals, true +to her principles, true to the past, to be patient; and to wait. + +So strengthened, she had turned a deaf ear to such possible voice of +admiration as might have come from the scant membership of the Young +Men's Bible Class, leaving them the more devoted to Scripture study. +There was no thin ring to turn upon her finger; but, for lack of +better token, she had saved the rose she wore upon her breast that +night, keeping it hidden among her precious things. + +And then, into the gray, flat current of her daily life, sharply +across the trend of Mrs. St. Cloud's soft influence, had come a new +force--Dr. Bellair. + +Vivian liked her, yet felt afraid, a slight, shivering hesitancy as +before a too cold bath, a subtle sense that this breezy woman, strong, +cheerful, full of new ideas, if not ideals, and radiating actual +power, power used and enjoyed, might in some way change the movement +of her life. + +Change she desired, she longed for, but dreaded the unknown. + +Slowly she followed the long garden path, paused lingeringly by that +rough garden seat, went through and closed the gate. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE OUTBREAK + + There comes a time + After white months of ice-- + Slow months of ice--long months of ice-- + There comes a time when the still floods below + Rise, lift, and overflow-- + Fast, far they go. + + +Miss Orella sat in her low armless rocker, lifting perplexed, patient +eyes to look up at Dr. Bellair. + +Dr. Bellair stood squarely before her, stood easily, on broad-soled, +low-heeled shoes, and looked down at Miss Orella; her eyes were +earnest, compelling, full of hope and cheer. + +"You are as pretty as a girl, Orella," she observed irrelevantly. + +Miss Orella blushed. She was not used to compliments, even from a +woman, and did not know how to take them. + +"How you talk!" she murmured shyly. + +"I mean to talk," continued the doctor, "until you listen to reason." + +Reason in this case, to Dr. Bellair's mind, lay in her advice to Miss +Elder to come West with her--to live. + +"I don't see how I can. It's--it's such a Complete Change." + +Miss Orella spoke as if Change were equivalent to Sin, or at least to +Danger. + +"Do you good. As a physician, I can prescribe nothing better. You need +a complete change if anybody ever did." + +"Why, Jane! I am quite well." + +"I didn't say you were sick. But you are in an advanced stage of +_arthritis deformans_ of the soul. The whole town's got it!" + +The doctor tramped up and down the little room, freeing her mind. + +"I never saw such bed-ridden intellects in my life! I suppose it was +so when I was a child--and I was too young to notice it. But surely +it's worse now. The world goes faster and faster every day, the people +who keep still get farther behind! I'm fond of you, Rella. You've got +an intellect, and a conscience, and a will--a will like iron. But you +spend most of your strength in keeping yourself down. Now, do wake up +and use it to break loose! You don't have to stay here. Come out to +Colorado with me--and Grow." + +Miss Elder moved uneasily in her chair. She laid her small embroidery +hoop on the table, and straightened out the loose threads of silk, the +doctor watching her impatiently. + +"I'm too old," she said at length. + +Jane Bellair laughed aloud, shortly. + +"Old!" she cried. "You're five years younger than I am. You're only +thirty-six! Old! Why, child, your life's before you--to make." + +"You don't realize, Jane. You struck out for yourself so young--and +you've grown up out there--it seems to be so different--there." + +"It is. People aren't afraid to move. What have you got here you so +hate to leave, Rella?" + +"Why, it's--Home." + +"Yes. It's home--now. Are you happy in it?" + +"I'm--contented." + +"Don't you deceive yourself, Rella. You are not contented--not by a +long chalk. You are doing your duty as you see it; and you've kept +yourself down so long you've almost lost the power of motion. I'm +trying to galvanize you awake--and I mean to do it." + +"You might as well sit down while you're doing it, anyway," Miss Elder +suggested meekly. + +Dr. Bellair sat down, selecting a formidable fiddle-backed chair, the +unflinching determination of its widely-placed feet being repeated by +her own square toes. She placed herself in front of her friend and +leaned forward, elbows on knees, her strong, intelligent hands clasped +loosely. + +"What have you got to look forward to, Rella?" + +"I want to see Susie happily married--" + +"I said _you_--not Susie." + +"Oh--me? Why, I hope some day Morton will come back----" + +"I said _you_--not Morton." + +"Why I--you know I have friends, Jane--and neighbors. And some day, +perhaps--I mean to go abroad." + +"Are you scolding Aunt Rella again, Dr. Bellair. I won't stand it." +Pretty Susie stood in the door smiling. + +"Come and help me then," the doctor said, "and it won't sound so much +like scolding." + +"I want Mort's letter--to show to Viva," the girl answered, and +slipped out with it. + +She sat with Vivian on the stiff little sofa in the back room; the +arms of the two girls were around one another, and they read the +letter together. More than six months had passed since his last one. + +It was not much of a letter. Vivian took it in her own hands and went +through it again, carefully. The "Remember me to Viva--unless she's +married," at the end did not seem at all satisfying. Still it might +mean more than appeared--far more. Men were reticent and proud, she +had read. It was perfectly possible that he might be concealing deep +emotion under the open friendliness. He was in no condition to speak +freely, to come back and claim her. He did not wish her to feel bound +to him. She had discussed it with Mrs. St. Cloud, shrinkingly, +tenderly, led on by tactful, delicate, questions, by the longing of +her longing heart for expression and sympathy. + +"A man who cannot marry must speak of marriage--it is not honorable," +her friend had told her. + +"Couldn't he--write to me--as a friend?" + +And the low-voiced lady had explained with a little sigh that men +thought little of friendship with women. "I have tried, all my life, +to be a true and helpful friend to men, to such men as seemed worthy, +and they so often--misunderstood." + +The girl, sympathetic and admiring, thought hotly of how other people +misunderstood this noble, lovely soul; how they even hinted that she +"tried to attract men," a deadly charge in Bainville. + +"No," Mrs. St. Cloud had told her, "he might love you better than all +the world--yet not write to you--till he was ready to say 'come.' And, +of course, he wouldn't say anything in his letters to his aunt." + +So Vivian sat there, silent, weaving frail dreams out of "remember me +to Viva--unless she's married." That last clause might mean much. + +Dr. Bellair's voice sounded clear and insistent in the next room. + +"She's trying to persuade Aunt Rella to go West!" said Susie. +"Wouldn't it be funny if she did!" + +In Susie's eyes her Aunt's age was as the age of mountains, and also +her fixity. Since she could remember, Aunt Rella, always palely pretty +and neat, like the delicate, faintly-colored Spring flowers of New +England, had presided over the small white house, the small green +garden and the large black and white school-room. In her vacation she +sewed, keeping that quiet wardrobe of hers in exquisite order--and +also making Susie's pretty dresses. To think of Aunt Orella actually +"breaking up housekeeping," giving up her school, leaving Bainville, +was like a vision of trees walking. + +To Dr. Jane Bellair, forty-one, vigorous, successful, full of new +plans and purposes, Miss Elder's life appeared as an arrested +girlhood, stagnating unnecessarily in this quiet town, while all the +world was open to her. + +"I couldn't think of leaving Susie!" protested Miss Orella. + +"Bring her along," said the doctor. "Best thing in the world for her!" + +She rose and came to the door. The two girls make a pretty picture. +Vivian's oval face, with its smooth Madonna curves under the +encircling wreath of soft, dark plaits, and the long grace of her +figure, delicately built, yet strong, beside the pink, plump little +Susie, roguish and pretty, with the look that made everyone want to +take care of her. + +"Come in here, girls," said the doctor. "I want you to help me. You're +young enough to be movable, I hope." + +They cheerfully joined the controversy, but Miss Orella found small +support in them. + +"Why don't you do it, Auntie!" Susie thought it an excellent joke. "I +suppose you could teach school in Denver as well as here. And you +could Vote! Oh, Auntie--to think of your Voting!" + +Miss Elder, too modestly feminine, too inherently conservative even +to be an outspoken "Anti," fairly blushed at the idea. + +"She's hesitating on your account," Dr. Bellair explained to the girl. +"Wants to see you safely married! I tell her you'll have a thousandfold +better opportunities in Colorado than you ever will here." + +Vivian was grieved. She had heard enough of this getting married, and +had expected Dr. Bellair to hold a different position. + +"Surely, that's not the only thing to do," she protested. + +"No, but it's a very important thing to do--and to do right. It's a +woman's duty." + +Vivian groaned in spirit. That again! + +The doctor watched her understandingly. + +"If women only did their duty in that line there wouldn't be so much +unhappiness in the world," she said. "All you New England girls sit +here and cut one another's throats. You can't possible marry, your +boys go West, you overcrowd the labor market, lower wages, steadily +drive the weakest sisters down till they--drop." + +They heard the back door latch lift and close again, a quick, decided +step--and Mrs. Pettigrew joined them. + +Miss Elder greeted her cordially, and the old lady seated herself in +the halo of the big lamp, as one well accustomed to the chair. + +"Go right on," she said--and knitted briskly. + +"Do take my side, Mrs. Pettigrew," Miss Orella implored her. "Jane +Bellair is trying to pull me up by the roots and transplant me to +Colorado." + +"And she says I shall have a better chance to marry out there--and +ought to do it!" said Susie, very solemnly. "And Vivian objects to +being shown the path of duty." + +Vivian smiled. Her quiet, rather sad face lit with sudden sparkling +beauty when she smiled. + +"Grandma knows I hate that--point of view," she said. "I think men and +women ought to be friends, and not always be thinking about--that." + +"I have some real good friends--boys, I mean," Susie agreed, looking +so serious in her platonic boast that even Vivian was a little +amused, and Dr. Bellair laughed outright. + +"You won't have a 'friend' in that sense till you're fifty, Miss +Susan--if you ever do. There can be, there are, real friendships between +men and women, but most of that talk is--talk, sometimes worse. + +"I knew a woman once, ever so long ago," the doctor continued +musingly, clasping her hands behind her head, "a long way from +here--in a college town--who talked about 'friends.' She was married. +She was a 'good' woman--perfectly 'good' woman. Her husband was not a +very good man, I've heard, and strangely impatient of her virtues. She +had a string of boys--college boys--always at her heels. Quite too +young and too charming she was for this friendship game. She said that +such a friendship was 'an ennobling influence' for the boys. She +called them her 'acolytes.' Lots of them were fairly mad about +her--one young chap was so desperate over it that he shot himself." + +There was a pained silence. + +"I don't see what this has to do with going to Colorado," said Mrs. +Pettigrew, looking from one to the other with a keen, observing eye. +"What's your plan, Dr. Bellair?" + +"Why, I'm trying to persuade my old friend here to leave this place, +change her occupation, come out to Colorado with me, and grow up. +She's a case of arrested development." + +"She wants me to keep boarders!" Miss Elder plaintively protested to +Mrs. Pettigrew. + +That lady was not impressed. + +"It's quite a different matter out there, Mrs. Pettigrew," the doctor +explained. "'Keeping boarders' in this country goes to the tune of +'Come Ye Disconsolate!' It's a doubtful refuge for women who are +widows or would be better off if they were. Where I live it's a sure +thing if well managed--it's a good business." + +Mrs. Pettigrew wore an unconvinced aspect. + +"What do you call 'a good business?'" she asked. + +"The house I have in mind cleared a thousand a year when it was in +right hands. That's not bad, over and above one's board and lodging. +That house is in the market now. I've just had a letter from a friend +about it. Orella could go out with me, and step right into Mrs. +Annerly's shoes--she's just giving up." + +"What'd she give up for?" Mrs. Pettigrew inquired suspiciously. + +"Oh--she got married; they all do. There are three men to one woman in +that town, you see." + +"I didn't know there was such a place in the world--unless it was a +man-of-war," remarked Susie, looking much interested. + +Dr. Bellair went on more quietly. + +"It's not even a risk, Mrs. Pettigrew. Rella has a cousin who would +gladly run this house for her. She's admitted that much. So there's no +loss here, and she's got her home to come back to. I can write to Dick +Hale to nail the proposition at once. She can go when I go, in about a +fortnight, and I'll guarantee the first year definitely." + +"I wouldn't think of letting you do that, Jane! And if it's as good as +you say, there's no need. But a fortnight! To leave home--in a +fortnight!" + +"What are the difficulties?" the old lady inquired. "There are always +some difficulties." + +"You are right, there," agreed the doctor. "The difficulties in this +place are servants. But just now there's a special chance in that line. +Dick says the best cook in town is going begging. I'll read you his +letter." + +She produced it, promptly, from the breast pocket of her neat coat. +Dr. Bellair wore rather short, tailored skirts of first-class +material; natty, starched blouses--silk ones for "dress," and +perfectly fitting light coats. Their color and texture might vary with +the season, but their pockets, never. + +"'My dear Jane' (This is my best friend out there--a doctor, too. We +were in the same class, both college and medical school. We +fight--he's a misogynist of the worst type--but we're good friends all +the same.) 'Why don't you come back? My boys are lonesome without you, +and I am overworked--you left so many mishandled invalids for me to +struggle with. Your boarding house is going to the dogs. Mrs. Annerly +got worse and worse, failed completely and has cleared out, with a +species of husband, I believe. The owner has put in a sort of +caretaker, and the roomers get board outside--it's better than what +they were having. Moreover, the best cook in town is hunting a job. +Wire me and I'll nail her. You know the place pays well. Now, why +don't you give up your unnatural attempt to be a doctor and assume +woman's proper sphere? Come back and keep house!' + +"He's a great tease, but he tells the truth. The house is there, +crying to be kept. The boarders are there--unfed. Now, Orella Elder, +why don't you wake up and seize the opportunity?" + +Miss Orella was thinking. + +"Where's that last letter of Morton's?" + +Susie looked for it. Vivian handed it to her, and Miss Elder read it +once more. + +"There's plenty of homeless boys out there besides yours, Orella," the +doctor assured her. "Come on--and bring both these girls with you. +It's a chance for any girl, Miss Lane." + +But her friend did not hear her. She found what she was looking for in +the letter and read it aloud. "I'm on the road again now, likely to be +doing Colorado most of the year if things go right. It's a fine +country." + +Susie hopped up with a little cry. + +"Just the thing, Aunt Rella! Let's go out and surprise Mort. He thinks +we are just built into the ground here. Won't it be fun, Viva?" + +Vivian had risen from her seat and stood at the window, gazing out with +unseeing eyes at the shadowy little front yard. Morton might be there. +She might see him. But--was it womanly to go there--for that? There were +other reasons, surely. She had longed for freedom, for a chance to grow, +to do something in life--something great and beautiful! Perhaps this was +the opening of the gate, the opportunity of a lifetime. + +"You folks are so strong on duty," the doctor was saying, "Why can't you +see a real duty in this? I tell you, the place is full of men that need +mothering, and sistering--good honest sweethearting and marrying, too. +Come on, Rella. Do bigger work than you've ever done yet--and, as I +said, bring both these nice girls with you. What do you say, Miss Lane?" + +Vivian turned to her, her fine face flushed with hope, yet with a +small Greek fret on the broad forehead. + +"I'd like to, very much, Dr. Bellair--on some accounts. But----" She +could not quite voice her dim objections, her obscure withdrawals; and +so fell back on the excuse of childhood--"I'm sure Mother wouldn't let +me." + +Dr. Bellair smiled broadly. + +"Aren't you over twenty-one?" she asked. + +"I'm twenty-five," the girl replied, with proud acceptance of a life +long done--as one who owned to ninety-seven. + +"And self-supporting?" pursued the doctor. + +Vivian flushed. + +"No--not yet," she answered; "but I mean to be." + +"Exactly! Now's your chance. Break away now, my dear, and come West. You +can get work--start a kindergarten, or something. I know you love +children." + +The girl's heart rose within her in a great throb of hope. + +"Oh--if I _could_!" she exclaimed, and even as she said it, rose +half-conscious memories of the low, sweet tones of Mrs. St. Cloud. "It +is a woman's place to wait--and to endure." + +She heard a step on the walk outside--looked out. + +"Why, here is Mrs. St. Cloud!" she cried. + +"Guess I'll clear out," said the doctor, as Susie ran to the door. She +was shy, socially. + +"Nonsense, Jane," said her hostess, whispering. "Mrs. St. Cloud is no +stranger. She's Mrs. Williams' sister--been here for years." + +She came in at the word, her head and shoulders wreathed in a pearl +gray shining veil, her soft long robe held up. + +"I saw your light, Miss Elder, and thought I'd stop in for a moment. +Good evening, Mrs. Pettigrew--and Miss Susie. Ah! Vivian!" + +"This is my friend, Dr. Bellair--Mrs. St. Cloud," Miss Elder was +saying. But Dr. Bellair bowed a little stiffly, not coming forward. + +"I've met Mrs. St. Cloud before, I think--when she was 'Mrs. James.'" + +The lady's face grew sad. + +"Ah, you knew my first husband! I lost him--many years ago--typhoid +fever." + +"I think I heard," said the doctor. And then, feeling that some +expression of sympathy was called for, she added, "Too bad." + +Not all Miss Elder's gentle hospitality, Mrs. Pettigrew's bright-eyed +interest, Susie's efforts at polite attention, and Vivian's visible +sympathy could compensate Mrs. St. Cloud for one inimical presence. + +"You must have been a mere girl in those days," she said sweetly. +"What a lovely little town it was--under the big trees." + +"It certainly was," the doctor answered dryly. + +"There is such a fine atmosphere in a college town, I think," pursued +the lady. "Especially in a co-educational town--don't you think so?" + +Vivian was a little surprised. She had had an idea that her admired +friend did not approve of co-education. She must have been mistaken. + +"Such a world of old memories as you call up, Dr. Bellair," their +visitor pursued. "Those quiet, fruitful days! You remember Dr. Black's +lectures? Of course you do, better than I. What a fine man he was! And +the beautiful music club we had one Winter--and my little private +dancing class--do you remember that? Such nice boys, Miss Elder! I +used to call them my acolytes." + +Susie gave a little gulp, and coughed to cover it. + +"I guess you'll have to excuse me, ladies," said Dr. Bellair. +"Good-night." And she walked upstairs. + +Vivian's face flushed and paled and flushed again. A cold pain was +trying to enter her heart, and she was trying to keep it out. Her +grandmother glanced sharply from one face to the other. + +"Glad to've met you, Mrs. St. Cloud," she said, bobbing up with +decision. "Good-night, Rella--and Susie. Come on child. It's a wonder +your mother hasn't sent after us." + +For once Vivian was glad to go. + +"That's a good scheme of Jane Bellair's, don't you think so?" asked +the old lady as they shut the gate behind them. + +"I--why yes--I don't see why not." + +Vivian was still dizzy with the blow to her heart's idol. All the +soft, still dream-world she had so labored to keep pure and beautiful +seemed to shake and waver swimmingly. She could not return to it. The +flat white face of her home loomed before her, square, hard, hideously +unsympathetic-- + +"Grandma," said she, stopping that lady suddenly and laying a pleading +hand on her arm, "Grandma, I believe I'll go." + +Mrs. Pettigrew nodded decisively. + +"I thought you would," she said. + +"Do you blame me, Grandma?" + +"Not a mite, child. Not a mite. But I'd sleep on it, if I were you." + +And Vivian slept on it--so far as she slept at all. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TRANSPLANTED + + Sometimes a plant in its own habitat + Is overcrowded, starved, oppressed and daunted; + A palely feeble thing; yet rises quickly, + Growing in height and vigor, blooming thickly, + When far transplanted. + + +The days between Vivian's decision and her departure were harder than +she had foreseen. It took some courage to make the choice. Had she +been alone, independent, quite free to change, the move would have +been difficult enough; but to make her plan and hold to it in the face +of a disapproving town, and the definite opposition of her parents, +was a heavy undertaking. + +By habit she would have turned to Mrs. St. Cloud for advice; but +between her and that lady now rose the vague image of a young boy, +dead,--she could never feel the same to her again. + +Dr. Bellair proved a tower of strength. "My dear girl," she would say to +her, patiently, but with repressed intensity, "do remember that you are +_not_ a child! You are twenty-five years old. You are a grown woman, and +have as much right to decide for yourself as a grown man. This isn't +wicked--it is a wise move; a practical one. Do you want to grow up like +the rest of the useless single women in this little social cemetery?" + +Her mother took it very hard. "I don't see how you can think of +leaving us. We're getting old now--and here's Grandma to take care +of----" + +"Huh!" said that lady, with such marked emphasis that Mrs. Lane +hastily changed the phrase to "I mean to _be with_--you do like to +have Vivian with you, you can't deny that, Mother." + +"But Mama," said the girl, "you are not old; you are only forty-three. +I am sorry to leave you--I am really; but it isn't forever! I can come +back. And you don't really need me. Sarah runs the house exactly as +you like; you don't depend on me for a thing, and never did. As to +Grandma!"--and she looked affectionately at the old lady--"she don't +need me nor anybody else. She's independent if ever anybody was. She +won't miss me a mite--will you Grandma?" Mrs. Pettigrew looked at her +for a moment, the corners of her mouth tucked in tightly. "No," she +said, "I shan't miss you a mite!" + +Vivian was a little grieved at the prompt acquiescence. She felt +nearer to her grandmother in many ways than to either parent. "Well, +I'll miss you!" said she, going to her and kissing her smooth pale +cheek, "I'll miss you awfully!" + +Mr. Lane expressed his disapproval most thoroughly, and more than +once; then retired into gloomy silence, alternated with violent +dissuasion; but since a woman of twenty-five is certainly free to +choose her way of life, and there was no real objection to this +change, except that it _was_ a change, and therefore dreaded, his +opposition, though unpleasant, was not prohibitive. Vivian's +independent fortune of $87.50, the savings of many years, made the +step possible, even without his assistance. + +There were two weeks of exceeding disagreeableness in the household, +but Vivian kept her temper and her determination under a rain of tears, +a hail of criticism, and heavy wind of argument and exhortation. All her +friends and neighbors, and many who were neither, joined in the effort +to dissuade her; but she stood firm as the martyrs of old. + +Heredity plays strange tricks with us. Somewhere under the girl's dumb +gentleness and patience lay a store of quiet strength from some +Pilgrim Father or Mother. Never before had she set her will against +her parents; conscience had always told her to submit. Now conscience +told her to rebel, and she did. She made her personal arrangements, +said goodbye to her friends, declined to discuss with anyone, was +sweet and quiet and kind at home, and finally appeared at the +appointed hour on the platform of the little station. + +Numbers of curious neighbors were there to see them off, all who knew +them and could spare the time seemed to be on hand. Vivian's mother +came, but her father did not. + +At the last moment, just as the train drew in, Grandma appeared, +serene and brisk, descending, with an impressive amount of hand +baggage, from "the hack." + +"Goodbye, Laura," she said. "I think these girls need a chaperon. I'm +going too." + +So blasting was the astonishment caused by this proclamation, and so +short a time remained to express it, that they presently found +themselves gliding off in the big Pullman, all staring at one another +in silent amazement. + +"I hate discussion," said Mrs. Pettigrew. + + * * * * * + +None of these ladies were used to traveling, save Dr. Bellair, who had +made the cross continent trip often enough to think nothing of it. + +The unaccustomed travelers found much excitement in the journey. As +women, embarking on a new, and, in the eyes of their friends, highly +doubtful enterprise, they had emotion to spare; and to be confronted +at the outset by a totally unexpected grandmother was too much for +immediate comprehension. + +She looked from one to the other, sparkling, triumphant. + +"I made up my mind, same as you did, hearing Jane Bellair talk," she +explained. "Sounded like good sense. I always wanted to travel, always, +and never had the opportunity. This was a real good chance." Her mouth +shut, tightened, widened, drew into a crinkly delighted smile. + +They sat still staring at her. + +"You needn't look at me like that! I guess it's a free country! I +bought my ticket--sent for it same as you did. And I didn't have to +ask _anybody_--I'm no daughter. My duty, as far as I know it, is +_done_! This is a pleasure trip!" + +She was triumph incarnate. + +"And you never said a word!" This from Vivian. + +"Not a word. Saved lots of trouble. Take care of me indeed! Laura +needn't think I'm dependent on her _yet_!" + +Vivian's heart rather yearned over her mother, thus doubly bereft. + +"The truth is," her grandmother went on, "Samuel wants to go to +Florida the worst way; I heard 'em talking about it! He wasn't willing +to go alone--not he! Wants somebody to hear him cough, I say! And +Laura couldn't go--'Mother was so dependent'--_Huh!_" + +Vivian began to smile. She knew this had been talked over, and given +up on that account. She herself could have been easily disposed of, +but Mrs. Lane chose to think her mother a lifelong charge. + +"Act as if I was ninety!" the old lady burst forth again. "I'll show +'em!" + +"I think you're dead right, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Dr. Bellair. "Sixty +isn't anything. You ought to have twenty years of enjoyable life yet, +before they call you 'old'--maybe more." + +Mrs. Pettigrew cocked an eye at her. "My grandmother lived to be a +hundred and four," said she, "and kept on working up to the last year. +I don't know about enjoyin' life, but she was useful for pretty near a +solid century. After she broke her hip the last time she sat still and +sewed and knitted. After her eyes gave out she took to hooking rugs." + +"I hope it will be forty years, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Sue, "and I'm +real glad you're coming. It'll make it more like home." + +Miss Elder was a little slow in accommodating herself to this new +accession. She liked Mrs. Pettigrew very much--but--a grandmother thus +airily at large seemed to unsettle the foundations of things. She was +polite, even cordial, but evidently found it difficult to accept the +facts. + +"Besides," said Mrs. Pettigrew, "you may not get all those boarders at +once and I'll be one to count on. I stopped at the bank this morning +and had 'em arrange for my account out in Carston. They were some +surprised, but there was no time to ask questions!" She relapsed into +silence and gazed with keen interest at the whirling landscape. + +Throughout the journey she proved the best of travelers; was never +car-sick, slept well in the joggling berth, enjoyed the food, and +continually astonished them by producing from her handbag the most +diverse and unlooked for conveniences. An old-fashioned traveller had +forgotten her watchkey--Grandma produced an automatic one warranted to +fit anything. "Takes up mighty little room--and I thought maybe it +would come in handy," she said. + +She had a small bottle of liquid court-plaster, and plenty of the +solid kind. She had a delectable lotion for the hands, a real treasure +on the dusty journey; also a tiny corkscrew, a strong pair of +"pinchers," sewing materials, playing cards, string, safety-pins, +elastic bands, lime drops, stamped envelopes, smelling salts, troches, +needles and thread. + +"Did you bring a trunk, Grandma?" asked Vivian. + +"Two," said Grandma, "excess baggage. All paid for and checked." + +"How did you ever learn to arrange things so well?" Sue asked +admiringly. + +"Read about it," the old lady answered. "There's no end of directions +nowadays. I've been studying up." + +She was so gleeful and triumphant, so variously useful, so steadily +gay and stimulating, that they all grew to value her presence long +before they reached Carston; but they had no conception of the +ultimate effect of a resident grandmother in that new and bustling +town. + +To Vivian the journey was a daily and nightly revelation. She had read +much but traveled very little, never at night. The spreading beauty of +the land was to her a new stimulus; she watched by the hour the +endless panorama fly past her window, its countless shades of green, +the brown and red soil, the fleeting dashes of color where wild +flowers gathered thickly. She was repeatedly impressed by seeing +suddenly beside her the name of some town which had only existed in +her mind as "capital city" associated with "principal exports" and +"bounded on the north." + +At night, sleeping little, she would raise her curtain and look out, +sideways, at the stars. Big shadowy trees ran by, steep cuttings rose +like a wall of darkness, and the hilly curves of open country rose and +fell against the sky line like a shaken carpet. + +She faced the long, bright vistas of the car and studied people's +faces--such different people from any she had seen before. A heavy +young man with small, light eyes, sat near by, and cast frequent +glances at both the girls, going by their seat at intervals. Vivian +considered this distinctly rude, and Sue did not like his looks, so he +got nothing for his pains, yet even this added color to the day. + +The strange, new sense of freedom grew in her heart, a feeling of +lightness and hope and unfolding purpose. + +There was continued discussion as to what the girls should do. + +"We can be waitresses for Auntie till we get something else," Sue +practically insisted. "The doctor says it will be hard to get good +service and I'm sure the boarders would like us." + +"You can both find work if you want it. What do you want to do, +Vivian?" asked Dr. Bellair, not for the first time. + +Vivian was still uncertain. + +"I love children best," she said. "I could teach--but I haven't a +certificate. I'd _love_ a kindergarten; I've studied that--at home." + +"Shouldn't wonder if you could get up a kindergarten right off," the +doctor assured her. "Meantime, as this kitten says, you could help +Miss Elder out and turn an honest penny while you're waiting." + +"Wouldn't it--interfere with my teaching later?" the girl inquired. + +"Not a bit, not a bit. We're not so foolish out here. We'll fix you up +all right in no time." + +It was morning when they arrived at last and came out of the cindery, +noisy crowded cars into the wide, clean, brilliant stillness of the +high plateau. They drew deep breaths; the doctor squared her shoulders +with a glad, homecoming smile. Vivian lifted her head and faced the +new surroundings as an unknown world. Grandma gazed all ways, still +cheerful, and their baggage accrued about them as a rampart. + +A big bearded man, carelessly dressed, whirled up in a dusty runabout, +and stepped out smiling. He seized Dr. Bellair by both hands, and +shook them warmly. + +"Thought I'd catch you, Johnny," he said. "Glad to see you back. If +you've got the landlady, I've got the cook!" + +"Here we are," said she. "Miss Orella Elder--Dr. Hale; Mrs. +Pettigrew, Miss Susie Elder, Miss Lane--Dr. Richard Hale." + +He bowed deeply to Mrs. Pettigrew, shook hands with Miss Orella, and +addressed himself to her, giving only a cold nod to the two girls, and +quite turning away from them. + +Susie, in quiet aside to Vivian, made unfavorable comment. + +"This is your Western chivalry, is it?" she said. "Even Bainville does +better than that." + +"I don't know why we should mind," Vivian answered. "It's Dr. +Bellair's friend; he don't care anything about us." + +But she was rather of Sue's opinion. + +The big man took Dr. Bellair in his car, and they followed in a +station carriage, eagerly observing their new surroundings, and +surprised, as most Easterners are, by the broad beauty of the streets +and the modern conveniences everywhere--electric cars, electric +lights, telephones, soda fountains, where they had rather expected to +find tents and wigwams. + +The house, when they were all safely within it, turned out to be "just +like a real house," as Sue said; and proved even more attractive than +the doctor had described it. It was a big, rambling thing, at home +they would have called it a hotel, with its neat little sign, "The +Cottonwoods," and Vivian finally concluded that it looked like a +seaside boarding house, built for the purpose. + +A broad piazza ran all across the front, the door opening into a big +square hall, a sort of general sitting-room; on either side were four +good rooms, opening on a transverse passage. The long dining-room and +kitchen were in the rear of the hall. + +Dr. Bellair had two, her office fronting on the side street, with a +bedroom behind it. They gave Mrs. Pettigrew the front corner room on +that side and kept the one opening from the hall as their own parlor. +In the opposite wing was Miss Elder's room next the hall, and the +girls in the outer back corner, while the two front ones on that side +were kept for the most impressive and high-priced boarders. + +Mrs. Pettigrew regarded her apartments with suspicion as being too +"easy." + +"I don't mind stairs," she said. "Dr. Bellair has to be next her +office--but why do I have to be next Dr. Bellair?" + +It was represented to her that she would be nearer to everything that +went on and she agreed without more words. + +Dr. Hale exhibited the house as if he owned it. + +"The agent's out of town," he said, "and we don't need him anyway. He +said he'd do anything you wanted, in reason." + +Dr. Bellair watched with keen interest the effect of her somewhat daring +description, as Miss Orella stepped from room to room examining +everything with a careful eye, with an expression of growing +generalship. Sue fluttered about delightedly, discovering advantages +everywhere and making occasional disrespectful remarks to Vivian about +Dr. Hale's clothes. + +"Looks as if he never saw a clothes brush!" she said. "A finger out on +his glove, a button off his coat. No need to tell us there's no woman +in his house!" + +"You can decide about your cook when you've tried her," he said to +Miss Elder. "I engaged her for a week--on trial. She's in the kitchen +now, and will have your dinner ready presently. I think you'll like +her, if----" + +"Good boy!" said Dr. Bellair. "Sometimes you show as much sense as a +woman--almost." + +"What's the 'if'" asked Miss Orella, looking worried. + +"Question of character," he answered. "She's about forty-five, with a +boy of sixteen or so. He's not over bright, but a willing worker. +She's a good woman--from one standpoint. She won't leave that boy nor +give him up to strangers; but she has a past!" + +"What is her present?" Dr. Bellair asked, "that's the main thing." + +Dr. Hale clapped her approvingly on the shoulder, but looked +doubtingly toward Miss Orella. + +"And what's her future if somebody don't help her?" Vivian urged. + +"Can she cook?" asked Grandma. + +"Is she a safe person to have in the house?" inquired Dr. Bellair +meaningly. + +"She can cook," he replied. "She's French, or of French parentage. She +used to keep a little--place of entertainment. The food was excellent. +She's been a patient of mine--off and on--for five years--and I should +call her perfectly safe." + +Miss Orella still looked worried. "I'd like to help her and the boy, but +would it--look well? I don't want to be mean about it, but this is a +very serious venture with us, Dr. Hale, and I have these girls with me." + +"With you and Dr. Bellair and Mrs. Pettigrew the young ladies will be +quite safe, Miss Elder. As to the woman's present character, she has +suffered two changes of heart, she's become a religious devotee--and a +man-hater! And from a business point of view, I assure you that if +Jeanne Jeaune is in your kitchen you'll never have a room empty." + +"Johnny Jones! queer name for a woman!" said Grandma. They repeated it +to her carefully, but she only changed to "Jennie June," and adhered +to one or the other, thereafter. "What's the boy's name?" she asked +further. + +"Theophile," Dr. Hale replied. + +"Huh!" said she. + +"Why don't she keep an eating-house still?" asked Dr. Bellair rather +suspiciously. + +"That's what I like best about her," he answered. "She is trying to +break altogether with her past. She wants to give up 'public +life'--and private life won't have her." + +They decided to try the experiment, and found it worked well. + +There were two bedrooms over the kitchen where "Mrs. Jones" as Grandma +generally called her, and her boy, could be quite comfortable and by +themselves; and although of a somewhat sour and unsociable aspect, and +fiercely watchful lest anyone offend her son, this questionable +character proved an unquestionable advantage. With the boy's help, she +cooked for the houseful, which grew to be a family of twenty-five. He +also wiped dishes, helped in the laundry work, cleaned and scrubbed +and carried coal; and Miss Elder, seeing his steady usefulness, +insisted on paying wages for him too. This unlooked for praise and +gain won the mother's heart, and as she grew more at home with them, +and he less timid, she encouraged him to do the heavier cleaning in +the rest of the house. + +"Huh!" said Grandma. "I wish more sane and moral persons would work +like that!" + +Vivian watched with amazement the swift filling of the house. + +There was no trouble at all about boarders, except in discriminating +among them. "Make them pay in advance, Rella," Dr. Bellair advised, "it +doesn't cost them any more, and it is a great convenience. 'References +exchanged,' of course. There are a good many here that I know--you can +always count on Mr. Dykeman and Fordham Grier, and John Unwin." + +Before a month was over the place was full to its limits with what Sue +called "assorted boarders," the work ran smoothly and the business end +of Miss Elder's venture seemed quite safe. They had the twenty Dr. +Bellair prophesied, and except for her, Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss Peeder, a +teacher of dancing and music; Mrs. Jocelyn, who was interested in +mining, and Sarah Hart, who described herself as a "journalist," all +were men. + +Fifteen men to eight women. Miss Elder sat at the head of her table, +looked down it and across the other one, and marvelled continuously. +Never in her New England life had she been with so many men--except in +church--and they were more scattered. This houseful of heavy feet and +broad shoulders, these deep voices and loud laughs, the atmosphere of +interchanging jests and tobacco smoke, was new to her. She hated the +tobacco smoke, but that could not be helped. They did not smoke in her +parlor, but the house was full of it none the less, in which constant +presence she began to reverse the Irishman's well known judgment of +whiskey, allowing that while all tobacco was bad, some tobacco was +much worse than others. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CONTRASTS + + Old England thinks our country + Is a wilderness at best-- + And small New England thinks the same + Of the large free-minded West. + + Some people know the good old way + Is the only way to do, + And find there must be something wrong + In anything that's new. + + +To Vivian the new life offered a stimulus, a sense of stir and promise +even beyond her expectations. She wrote dutiful letters to her mother, +trying to describe the difference between this mountain town and +Bainville, but found the New England viewpoint an insurmountable +obstacle. + +To Bainville "Out West" was a large blank space on the map, and the +blank space in the mind which matched it was but sparsely dotted with +a few disconnected ideas such as "cowboy," "blizzard," "prairie +fire," "tornado," "border ruffian," and the like. + +The girl's painstaking description of the spreading, vigorous young +town, with its fine, modern buildings, its banks and stores and +theatres, its country club and parks, its pleasant social life, made +small impression on the Bainville mind. But the fact that Miss Elder's +venture was successful from the first did impress old acquaintances, +and Mrs. Lane read aloud to selected visitors her daughter's accounts +of their new and agreeable friends. Nothing was said of "chaps," +"sombreros," or "shooting up the town," however, and therein a +distinct sense of loss was felt. + +Much of what was passing in Vivian's mind she could not make clear to +her mother had she wished to. The daily presence and very friendly +advances of so many men, mostly young and all polite (with the +exception of Dr. Hale, whose indifference was almost rude by +contrast), gave a new life and color to the days. + +She could not help giving some thought to this varied assortment, and +the carefully preserved image of Morton, already nine years dim, waxed +dimmer. But she had a vague consciousness of being untrue to her ideals, +or to Mrs. St. Cloud's ideals, now somewhat discredited, and did not +readily give herself up to the cheerful attractiveness of the position. + +Susie found no such difficulty. Her ideals were simple, and while +quite within the bounds of decorum, left her plenty of room for +amusement. So popular did she become, so constantly in demand for +rides and walks and oft-recurring dances, that Vivian felt called upon +to give elder sisterly advice. + +But Miss Susan scouted her admonitions. + +"Why shouldn't I have a good time?" she said. "Think how we grew up! +Half a dozen boys to twenty girls, and when there was anything to go +to--the lordly way they'd pick and choose! And after all our efforts +and machinations most of us had to dance with each other. And the +quarrels we had! Here they stand around three deep asking for +dances--and _they_ have to dance with each other, and _they_ do the +quarreling. I've heard 'em." And Sue giggled delightedly. + +"There's no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves, Susie, of course, but +aren't you--rather hard on them?" + +"Oh, nonsense!" Sue protested. "Dr. Bellair said I should get married +out here! She says the same old thing--that it's 'a woman's duty,' and +I propose to do it. That is--they'll propose, and I won't do it! Not +till I make up my mind. Now see how you like this!" + +She had taken a fine large block of "legal cap" and set down their +fifteen men thereon, with casual comment. + +1. Mr. Unwin--Too old, big, quiet. + +2. Mr. Elmer Skee--Big, too old, funny. + +3. Jimmy Saunders--Middle-sized, amusing, nice. + +4. P. R. Gibbs--Too little, too thin, too cocky. + +5. George Waterson--Middling, pretty nice. + +6. J. J. Cuthbert--Big, horrid. + +7. Fordham Greer--Big, pleasant. + +8. W. S. Horton--Nothing much. + +9. A. L. Dykeman--Interesting, too old. + +10. Professor Toomey--Little, horrid. + +11. Arthur Fitzwilliam--Ridiculous, too young. + +12. Howard Winchester--Too nice, distrust him. + +13. Lawson W. Briggs--Nothing much. + +14. Edward S. Jenks--Fair to middling. + +15. Mr. A. Smith--Minus. + +She held it up in triumph. "I got 'em all out of the book--quite +correct. Now, which'll you have." + +"Susie Elder! You little goose! Do you imagine that all these fifteen +men are going to propose to you?" + +"I'm sure I hope so!" said the cheerful damsel. "We've only been +settled a fortnight and one of 'em has already!" + +Vivian was impressed at once. "Which?--You don't mean it!" + +Sue pointed to the one marked "minus." + +"It was only 'A. Smith.' I never should be willing to belong to 'A. +Smith,' it's too indefinite--unless it was a last resort. Several more +are--well, extremely friendly! Now don't look so severe. You needn't +worry about me. I'm not quite so foolish as I talk, you know." + +She was not. Her words were light and saucy, but she was as demure and +decorous a little New Englander as need be desired; and she could not +help it if the hearts of the unattached young men of whom the town was +full, warmed towards her. + +Dr. Bellair astonished them at lunch one day in their first week. + +"Dick Hale wants us all to come over to tea this afternoon," she said, +as if it was the most natural thing in the world. + +"Tea? Where?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew sharply. + +"At his house. He has 'a home of his own,' you know. And he +particularly wants you, Mrs. Pettigrew--and Miss Elder--the girls, of +course." + +"I'm sure I don't care to go," Vivian remarked with serene +indifference, but Susie did. + +"Oh, come on, Vivian! It'll be so funny! A man's home!--and we may +never get another chance. He's such a bear!" + +Dr. Hale's big house was only across the road from theirs, standing in +a large lot with bushes and trees about it. + +"He's been here nine years," Dr. Bellair told them. "That's an old +inhabitant for us. He boarded in that house for a while; then it was for +sale and he bought it. He built that little office of his at the +corner--says he doesn't like to live where he works, or work where he +lives. He took his meals over here for a while--and then set up for +himself." + +"I should think he'd be lonely," Miss Elder suggested. + +"Oh, he has his boys, you know--always three or four young fellows +about him. It's a mighty good thing for them, too." + +Dr. Hale's home proved a genuine surprise. They had regarded it as a +big, neglected-looking place, and found on entering the gate that the +inside view of that rampant shrubbery was extremely pleasant. Though +not close cut and swept of leaves and twigs, it still was beautiful; +and the tennis court and tether-ball ring showed the ground well used. + +Grandma looked about her with a keen interrogative eye, and was much +impressed, as, indeed, were they all. She voiced their feelings +justly when, the true inwardness of this pleasant home bursting fully +upon them, she exclaimed: + +"Well, of all things! A man keeping house!" + +"Why not?" asked Dr. Hale with his dry smile. "Is there any +deficiency, mental or physical, about a man, to prevent his attempting +this abstruse art?" + +She looked at him sharply. "I don't know about deficiency, but there +seems to be somethin' about 'em that keeps 'em out of the business. I +guess it's because women are so cheap." + +"No doubt you are right, Mrs. Pettigrew. And here women are scarce and +high. Hence my poor efforts." + +His poor efforts had bought or built a roomy pleasant house, and +furnished it with a solid comfort and calm attractiveness that was +most satisfying. Two Chinamen did the work; cooking, cleaning, +washing, waiting on table, with silent efficiency. "They are as steady +as eight-day clocks," said Dr. Hale. "I pay them good wages and they +are worth it." + +"Sun here had to go home once--to be married, also, to see his honored +parents, I believe, and to leave a grand-'Sun' to attend to the +ancestors; but he brought in another Chink first and trained him so +well that I hardly noticed the difference. Came back in a year or so, +and resumed his place without a jar." + +Miss Elder watched with fascinated eyes these soft-footed servants +with clean, white garments and shiny coils of long, braided hair. + +"I may have to come to it," she admitted, "but--dear me, it doesn't +seem natural to have a man doing housework!" + +Dr. Hale smiled again. "You don't want men to escape from dependence, I +see. Perhaps, if more men knew how comfortably they could live without +women, the world would be happier." There was a faint wire-edge to his +tone, in spite of the courteous expression, but Miss Elder did not +notice it and if Mrs. Pettigrew did, she made no comment. + +They noted the varied excellences of his housekeeping with high +approval. + +"You certainly know how, Dr. Hale," said Miss Orella; "I particularly +admire these beds--with the sheets buttoned down, German fashion, +isn't it? What made you do that?" + +"I've slept so much in hotels," he answered; "and found the sheets +always inadequate to cover the blankets--and the marks of other men's +whiskers! I don't like blankets in my neck. Besides it saves washing." + +Mrs. Pettigrew nodded vehemently. "You have sense," she said. + +The labor-saving devices were a real surprise to them. A "chute" for +soiled clothing shot from the bathroom on each floor to the laundry in +the basement; a dumbwaiter of construction large and strong enough to +carry trunks, went from cellar to roof; the fireplaces dropped their +ashes down mysterious inner holes; and for the big one in the +living-room a special "lift" raised a box of wood up to the floor +level, hidden by one of the "settles." + +"Saves work--saves dirt--saves expense," said Dr. Hale. + +Miss Hale and her niece secretly thought the rooms rather bare, but +Dr. Bellair was highly in favor of that very feature. + +"You see Dick don't believe in jimcracks and dirt-catchers, and he +likes sunlight. Books all under glass--no curtains to wash and darn +and fuss with--none of those fancy pincushions and embroidered +thingummies--I quite envy him." + +"Why don't you have one yourself, Johnny?" he asked her. + +"Because I don't like housekeeping," she said, "and you do. Masculine +instinct, I suppose!" + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew with her sudden one-syllable chuckle. + +The girls followed from room to room, scarce noticing these comments, or +the eager politeness of the four pleasant-faced young fellows who formed +the doctor's present family. She could not but note the intelligent +efficiency of the place, but felt more deeply the underlying spirit, the +big-brotherly kindness which prompted his hospitable care of these nice +boys. It was delightful to hear them praise him. + +"O, he's simply great," whispered Archie Burns, a ruddy-cheeked young +Scotchman. "He pretends there's nothing to it--that he wants +company--that we pay for all we get--and that sort of thing, you know; +but this is no boarding house, I can tell you!" And then he flushed till +his very hair grew redder--remembering that the guests came from one. + +"Of course not!" Vivian cordially agreed with him. "You must have +lovely times here. I don't wonder you appreciate it!" and she smiled +so sweetly that he felt at ease again. + +Beneath all this cheery good will and the gay chatter of the group her +quick sense caught an impression of something hidden and repressed. +She felt the large and quiet beauty of the rooms; the smooth comfort, +the rational, pleasant life; but still more she felt a deep keynote of +loneliness. + +The pictures told her most. She noted one after another with inward +comment. + +"There's 'Persepolis,'" she said to herself--"loneliness incarnate; +and that other lion-and-ruin thing,--loneliness and decay. Gerome's +'Lion in the Desert,' too, the same thing. Then Daniel--more lions, +more loneliness, but power. 'Circe and the Companions of +Ulysses'--cruel, but loneliness and power again--of a sort. There's +that 'Island of Death' too--a beautiful thing--but O dear!--And young +Burne-Jones' 'Vampire' was in one of the bedrooms--that one he shut +the door of!" + +While they ate and drank in the long, low-ceiled wide-windowed room +below, she sought the bookcases and looked them over curiously. +Yes--there was Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Plato, Emerson and +Carlisle--the great German philosophers, the French, the English--all +showing signs of use. + +Dr. Hale observed her inspection. It seemed to vaguely annoy him, as +if someone were asking too presuming questions. + +"Interested in philosophy, Miss Lane?" he asked, drily, coming toward +her. + +"Yes--so far as I understand it," she answered. + +"And how far does that go?" + +She felt the inference, and raised her soft eyes to his rather +reproachfully. + +"Not far, I am afraid. But I do know that these books teach one how to +bear trouble." + +He met her gaze steadily, but something seemed to shut, deep in his +eyes. They looked as unassailable as a steel safe. He straightened his +big shoulders with a defiant shrug, and returned to sit by Mrs. +Pettigrew, to whom he made himself most agreeable. + +The four young men did the honors of the tea table, with devotion to +all; and some especially intended for the younger ladies. Miss Elder +cried out in delight at the tea. + +"Where did you get it, Dr. Hale? Can it be had here?" + +"I'm afraid not. That is a particular brand. Sun brought me a chest of +it when he came from his visit." + +When they went home each lady was given a present, Chinese +fashion--lychee nuts for Sue, lily-bulbs for Vivian, a large fan for +Mrs. Pettigrew, and a package of the wonderful tea for Miss Orella. + +"That's a splendid thing for him to do," she said, as they walked +back. "Such a safe place for those boys!" + +"It's lovely of him," Sue agreed. "I don't care if he is a +woman-hater." + +Vivian said nothing, but admitted, on being questioned, that "he was +very interesting." + +Mrs. Pettigrew was delighted with their visit. "I like this country," +she declared. "Things are different. A man couldn't do that in +Bainville--he'd be talked out of town." + +That night she sought Dr. Bellair and questioned her. + +"Tell me about that man," she demanded. "How old is he?" + +"Not as old as he looks by ten years," said the doctor. "No, I can't +tell you why his hair's gray." + +"What woman upset him?" asked the old lady. + +Dr. Bellair regarded her thoughtfully. "He has made me no confidences, +Mrs. Pettigrew, but I think you are right. It must have been a severe +shock--for he is very bitter against women. It is a shame, too, for he +is one of the best of men. He prefers men patients--and gets them. The +women he will treat if he must, but he is kindest to the 'fallen' ones, +and inclined to sneer at the rest. And yet he's the straightest man I +ever knew. I'm thankful to have him come here so much. He needs it." + +Mrs. Pettigrew marched off, nodding sagely. She felt a large and growing +interest in her new surroundings, more especially in the numerous boys, +but was somewhat amazed at her popularity among them. These young men +were mainly exiles from home; the older ones, though more settled +perhaps, had been even longer away from their early surroundings; and a +real live Grandma, as Jimmy Saunders said, was an "attraction." + +"If you were mine," he told her laughingly, "I'd get a pianist and +some sort of little side show, and exhibit you all up and down the +mountains!--for good money. Why some of the boys never had a Grandma, +and those that did haven't seen one since they were kids!" + +"Very complimentary, I'm sure--but impracticable," said the old lady. + +The young men came to her with confidences, they asked her advice, +they kept her amused with tales of their adventures; some true, some +greatly diversified; and she listened with a shrewd little smile and a +wag of the head--so they never were quite sure whether they were +"fooling" Grandma or not. + +To her, as a general confidant, came Miss Peeder with a tale of woe. The +little hall that she rented for her dancing classes had burned down on a +windy Sunday, and there was no other suitable and within her means. + +"There's Sloan's; but it's over a barroom--it's really not possible. +And Baker's is too expensive. The church rooms they won't let for +dancing--I don't know what I _am_ to do, Mrs. Pettigrew!" + +"Why don't you ask Orella Elder to rent you her dining-room--it's big +enough. They could move the tables----" + +Miss Peeder's eyes opened in hopeful surprise. "Oh, if she _would_! Do +_you_ think she would? It would be ideal." + +Miss Elder being called upon, was quite fluttered by the proposition, +and consulted Dr. Bellair. + +"Why not?" said that lady. "Dancing is first rate exercise--good for +us all. Might as well have the girls dance here under your eye as +going out all the time--and it's some addition to the income. They'll +pay extra for refreshments, too. I'd do it." + +With considerable trepidation Miss Orella consented, and their first +"class night" was awaited by her in a state of suppressed excitement. + +To have music and dancing--"with refreshments"--twice a week--in her +own house--this seemed to her like a career of furious dissipation. + +Vivian, though with a subtle sense of withdrawal from a too general +intimacy, was inwardly rather pleased; and Susie bubbled over with +delight. + +"Oh what fun!" she cried. "I never had enough dancing! I don't believe +anybody has!" + +"We don't belong to the Class, you know," Vivian reminded her. + +"Oh yes! Miss Peeder says we must _all_ come--that she would feel _very_ +badly if we didn't; and the boarders have all joined--to a man!" + +Everyone seemed pleased except Mrs. Jeaune. Dancing she considered +immoral; music, almost as much so--and Miss Elder trembled lest she +lose her. But the offer of extra payments for herself and son on these +two nights each week proved sufficient to quell her scruples. + +Theophile doubled up the tables, set chairs around the walls, waxed the +floor, and was then sent to bed and locked in by his anxious mother. + +She labored, during the earlier hours of the evening, in the +preparation of sandwiches and coffee, cake and lemonade--which viands +were later shoved through the slide by the austere cook, and +distributed as from a counter by Miss Peeder's assistant. Mrs. Jeaune +would come no nearer, but peered darkly upon them through the +peep-hole in the swinging door. + +It was a very large room, due to the time when many "mealers" had been +accommodated. There were windows on each side, windows possessing the +unusual merit of opening from the top; wide double doors made the big +front hall a sort of anteroom, and the stairs and piazza furnished +opportunities for occasional couples who felt the wish for retirement. +In the right-angled passages, long hat-racks on either side were hung +with "Derbies," "Kossuths" and "Stetsons," and the ladies took off +their wraps, and added finishing touches to their toilettes in Miss +Elder's room. + +The house was full of stir and bustle, of pretty dresses, of giggles +and whispers, and the subdued exchange of comments among the +gentlemen. The men predominated, so that there was no lack of partners +for any of the ladies. + +Miss Orella accepted her new position with a half-terrified enjoyment. +Not in many years had she found herself so in demand. Her always neat +and appropriate costume had blossomed suddenly for the occasion; her +hair, arranged by the affectionate and admiring Susie, seemed softer +and more voluminous. Her eyes grew brilliant, and the delicate color +in her face warmed and deepened. + +Miss Peeder had installed a pianola to cover emergencies, but on this +opening evening she had both piano and violin--good, lively, +sole-stirring music. Everyone was on the floor, save a few gentlemen +who evidently wished they were. + +Sue danced with the gaiety and lightness of a kitten among wind-blown +leaves, Vivian with gliding grace, smooth and harmonious, Miss Orella +with skill and evident enjoyment, though still conscientious in every +accurate step. + +Presently Mrs. Pettigrew appeared, sedately glorious in black silk, +jet-beaded, and with much fine old lace. She bore in front of her a +small wicker rocking chair, and headed for a corner near the door. Her +burden was promptly taken from her by one of the latest comers, a tall +person with a most devoted manner. + +"Allow _me_, ma'am," he said, and placed the little chair at the point +she indicated. "No lady ought to rustle for rockin' chairs with so +many gentlemen present." + +He was a man of somewhat advanced age, but his hair was still more +black than white and had a curly, wiggish effect save as its +indigenous character was proven by three small bare patches of a +conspicuous nature. + +He bowed so low before her that she could not help observing these +distinctions, and then answered her startled look before she had time +to question him. + +"Yes'm," he explained, passing his hand over head; "scalped three +several times and left for dead. But I'm here yet. Mr. Elmer Skee, at +your service." + +"I thought when an Indian scalped you there wasn't enough hair left to +make Greeley whiskers," said Grandma, rising to the occasion. + +"Oh, no, ma'am, they ain't so efficacious as all that--not in these +parts. I don't know what the ancient Mohawks may have done, but the +Apaches only want a patch--smaller to carry and just as good to show +off. They're collectors, you know--like a phil-e-a-to-lol-o-gist!" + +"Skee, did you say?" pursued the old lady, regarding him with interest +and convinced that there was something wrong with the name of that +species of collector. + +"Yes'm. Skee--Elmer Skee. No'm, _not_ pronounced 'she.' Do I look like +it?" + +Mr. Skee was an interesting relic of that stormy past of the once Wild +West which has left so few surviving. He had crossed the plains as a +child, he told her, in the days of the prairie schooner, had then and +there lost his parents and his first bit of scalp, was picked up alive +by a party of "movers," and had grown up in a playground of sixteen +states and territories. + +Grandma gazed upon him fascinated. "I judge you might be interesting +to talk with," she said, after he had given her this brief sketch of +his youth. + +"Thank you, ma'am," said Mr. Skee. "May I have the pleasure of this +dance?" + +"I haven't danced in thirty years," said she, dubitating. + +"The more reason for doing it now," he calmly insisted. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and they forthwith executed a species +of march, the gentleman pacing with the elaborate grace of a circus +horse, and Grandma stepping at his side with great decorum. + +Later on, warming to the occasion, Mr. Skee frisked and high-stepped +with the youngest and gayest, and found the supper so wholly to his +liking that he promptly applied for a room, and as soon as one was +vacant it was given to him. + +Vivian danced to her heart's content and enjoyed the friendly +merriment about her; but when Fordham Greer took her out on the long +piazza to rest and breathe a little, she saw the dark bulk of the +house across the street and the office with its half-lit window, and +could not avoid thinking of the lonely man there. + +He had not come to the dance, no one expected that, of course; but all +his boys had come and were having the best of times. + +"It's his own fault, of course; but it's a shame," she thought. + +The music sounded gaily from within, and young Greer urged for another +dance. + +She stood there for a moment, hesitating, her hand on his arm, when a +tall figure came briskly up the street from the station, turned in at +their gate, came up the steps---- + +The girl gave a little cry, and shrank back for an instant, then +eagerly came forward and gave her hand to him. + +It was Morton. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +NEW FRIENDS AND OLD + + 'Twould be too bad to be true, my dear, + And wonders never cease; + Twould be too bad to be true, my dear, + If all one's swans were geese! + + +Vivian's startled cry of welcome was heard by Susie, perched on the +stairs with several eager youths gathered as close as might be about +her, and several pairs of hands helped her swift descent to greet her +brother. + +Miss Orella, dropping Mr. Dykeman's arm, came flying from the ball-room. + +"Oh, Morton! Morton! When did you come? Why didn't you let us know? +Oh, my _dear_ boy!" + +She haled him into their special parlor, took his hat away from him, +pulled out the most comfortable chair. + +"Have you had supper? And to think that we haven't a room for you! But +there's to be one vacant--next week. I'll see that there is. You +shall have my room, dear boy. Oh, I am so glad to see you!" + +Susie gave him a sisterly hug, while he kissed her, somewhat gingerly, +on the cheek, and then she perched herself on the arm of a chair and +gazed upon him with affectionate interest. Vivian gazed also, busily +engaged in fitting present facts to past memories. + +Surely he had not looked just like that! The Morton of her girlhood's +dream had a clear complexion, a bright eye, a brave and gallant +look--the voice only had not changed. + +But here was Morton in present fact, something taller, it seemed, and +a good deal heavier, well dressed in a rather vivid way, and making +merry over his aunt's devotion. + +"Well, if it doesn't seem like old times to have Aunt 'Rella running +'round like a hen with her head cut off, to wait on me." The simile +was not unjust, though certainly ungracious, but his aunt was far too +happy to resent it. + +"You sit right still!" she said. "I'll go and bring you some supper. +You must be hungry." + +"Now do sit down and hear to reason, Auntie!" he said, reaching out a +detaining hand and pulling her into a seat beside him. "I'm not hungry +a little bit; had a good feed on the diner. Never mind about the +room--I don't know how long I can stay--and I left my grip at the +Allen House anyway. How well you're looking, Auntie! I declare I'd +hardly have known you! And here's little Susie--a regular belle! And +Vivian--don't suppose I dare call you Vivian now, Miss Lane?" + +Vivian gave a little embarrassed laugh. If he had used her first name +she would never have noticed it. Now that he asked her, she hardly +knew what answer to make, but presently said: + +"Why, of course, I always call you Morton." + +"Well, I'll come when you call me," he cheerfully replied, leaning +forward, elbows on knees, and looking around the pretty room. + +"How well you're fixed here. Guess it was a wise move, Aunt 'Rella. +But I'd never have dreamed you'd do it. Your Dr. Bellair must have +been a powerful promoter to get you all out here. I wouldn't have +thought anybody in Bainville could move--but me. Why, there's Grandma, +as I live!" and he made a low bow. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, hearing of his arrival from the various would-be +partners of the two girls, had come to the door and stood there +regarding him with a non-committal expression. At this address she +frowned perceptibly. + +"My name is Mrs. Pettigrew, young man. I've known you since you were a +scallawag in short pants, but I'm no Grandma of yours." + +"A thousand pardons! Please excuse me, Mrs. Pettigrew," he said with +exaggerated politeness. "Won't you be seated?" And he set a chair for +her with a flourish. + +"Thanks, no," she said. "I'll go back," and went back forthwith, +attended by Mr. Skee. + +"One of these happy family reunions, ma'am?" he asked with approving +interest. "If there's one thing I do admire, it's a happy surprise." + +"'Tis some of a surprise," Mrs. Pettigrew admitted, and became rather +glum, in spite of Mr. Skee's undeniably entertaining conversation. + +"Some sort of a fandango going on?" Morton asked after a few rather +stiff moments. "Don't let me interrupt! On with the dance! Let joy be +unconfined! And if she must"--he looked at Vivian, and went on +somewhat lamely--"dance, why not dance with me? May I have the +pleasure, Miss Lane?" + +"Oh, no," cried Miss Orella, "we'd much rather be with you!" + +"But I'd rather dance than talk, any time," said he, and crooked his +elbow to Vivian with an impressive bow. + +Somewhat uncertain in her own mind, and unwilling to again disappoint +Fordham Greer, who had already lost one dance and was visibly waiting +for her in the hall, the girl hesitated; but Susie said, "Go on, give +him part of one. I'll tell Mr. Greer." So Vivian took Morton's +proffered arm and returned to the floor. + +She had never danced with him in the old days; no special memory was +here to contrast with the present; yet something seemed vaguely wrong. +He danced well, but more actively than she admired, and during the +rest of the evening devoted himself to the various ladies with an air +of long usage. + +She was glad when the dancing was over and he had finally departed for +his hotel, glad when Susie had at last ceased chattering and dropped +reluctantly to sleep. + +For a long time she lay awake trying to straighten out things in her +mind and account to herself for the sense of vague confusion which +oppressed her. + +Morton had come back! That was the prominent thing, of which she +repeatedly assured herself. How often she had looked forward to that +moment, and felt in anticipation a vivid joy. She had thought of it in +a hundred ways, always with pleasure, but never in this particular +way--among so many strangers. + +It must be that which confused her, she thought, for she was extremely +sensitive to the attitude of those about her. She felt an unspoken +criticism of Morton on the part of her new friends in the house, and +resented it; yet in her own mind a faint comparison would obtrude +itself between his manners and those of Jimmie Saunders or Mr. Greer, +for instance. The young Scotchman she had seen regarding Morton with +an undisguised dislike, and this she inwardly resented, even while +herself disliking his bearing to his aunt--and to her grandmother. + +It was all contradictory and unsatisfying, and she fell asleep saying +over to herself, "He has come back! He has come back!" and trying to +feel happy. + +Aunt Orella was happy at any rate. She would not rest until her +beloved nephew was installed in the house, practically turning out Mr. +Gibbs in order to accommodate him. Morton protested, talked of +business and of having to go away at any time; and Mr. Gibbs, who +still "mealed" with them, secretly wished he would. + +But Morton did not go away. It was a long time since he had been petted +and waited on, and he enjoyed it hugely, treating his aunt with a +serio-comic affection that was sometimes funny, sometimes disagreeable. + +At least Susie found it so. Her first surprise over, she fell back on +a fund of sound common sense, strengthened by present experience, and +found a good deal to criticise in her returned brother. She was so +young when he left, and he had teased her so unmercifully in those +days, that her early memories of him were rather mixed in sentiment, +and now he appeared, not as the unquestioned idol of a manless family +in a well-nigh manless town, but as one among many; and of those many +several were easily his superiors. + +He was her brother, and she loved him, of course; but there were so +many wanting to be "brothers" if not more, and they were so much more +polite! Morton petted, patronized and teased her, and she took it all +in good part, as after the manner of brothers, but his demeanor with +other people was not to her mind. + +His adoring aunt, finding no fault whatever with this well-loved nephew, +lavished upon him the affection of her unused motherhood, and he seemed +to find it a patent joke, open to everyone, that she should be so fond. + +To this and, indeed, to his general walk and conversation, Mrs. +Pettigrew took great exception. + +"Fine boy--Rella's nephew!" she said to Dr. Bellair late one night +when, seeing a light over her neighbor's transom, she dropped in for a +little chat. Conversation seemed easier for her here than in the +atmosphere of Bainville. + +"Fine boy--eh? Nice complexion!" + +Dr. Bellair was reading a heavy-weight book by a heavier-weight +specialist. She laid it down, took off her eyeglasses, and rubbed them. + +"Better not kiss him," she said. + +"I thought as much!" said Grandma. "I _thought_ as much! Huh!" + +"Nice world, isn't it?" the doctor suggested genially. + +"Nothing the matter with the world, that I know of," her visitor +answered. + +"Nice people, then--how's that?" + +"Nothing the matter with the people but foolishness--plain +foolishness. Good land! Shall we _never_ learn anything!" + +"Not till it's too late apparently," the doctor gloomily agreed, +turning slowly in her swivel chair. "That boy never was taught +anything to protect him. What did Rella know? Or for that matter, what +do any boys' fathers and mothers know? Nothing, you'd think. If they +do, they won't teach it to their children." + +"Time they did!" said the old lady decidedly. "High time they did! +It's never too late to learn. I've learned a lot out of you and your +books, Jane Bellair. Interesting reading! I don't suppose you could +give an absolute opinion now, could you?" + +"No," said Dr. Bellair gravely, "no, I couldn't; not yet, anyway." + +"Well, we've got to keep our eyes open," Mrs. Pettigrew concluded. +"When I think of that girl of mine----" + +"Yes--or any girl," the doctor added. + +"You look out for any girl--that's your business; I'll look out for +mine--if I can." + +Mrs. Pettigrew's were not the only eyes to scrutinize Morton Elder. +Through the peep-hole in the swing door to the kitchen, Jeanne Jeaune +watched him darkly with one hand on her lean chest. + +She kept her watch on whatever went on in that dining-room, and on the +two elderly waitresses whom she had helped Miss Elder to secure when +the house filled up. They were rather painfully unattractive, but +seemed likely to stay where no young and pretty damsel could be +counted on for a year. Morton joked with perseverance about their +looks, and those who were most devoted to Susie seemed to admire his +wit, while Vivian's special admirers found it pointless in the +extreme. + +"Your waitresses are the limit, Auntie," he said, "but the cook is all +to the good. Is she a plain cook or a handsome one?" + +"Handsome is as handsome does, young man," Mrs. Pettigrew pointedly +replied. "Mrs. Jones is a first-class cook and her looks are neither +here nor there." + +"You fill me with curiosity," he replied. "I must go out and make her +acquaintance. I always get solid with the cook; it's worth while." + +The face at the peep-hole darkened and turned away with a bitter and +determined look, and Master Theophile was hastened at his work till his +dim intelligence wondered, and then blessed with an unexpected cookie. + +Vivian, Morton watched and followed assiduously. She was much changed +from what he remembered--the young, frightened, slender girl he had +kissed under the lilac bushes, a kiss long since forgotten among many. + +Perhaps the very number of his subsequent acquaintances during a +varied and not markedly successful career in the newer states made +this type of New England womanhood more marked. Girls he had known of +various sorts, women old and young had been kind to him, for Morton +had the rough good looks and fluent manner which easily find their way +to the good will of many female hearts; but this gentle refinement of +manner and delicate beauty had a novel charm for him. + +Sitting by his aunt at meals he studied Vivian opposite, he watched +her in their few quiet evenings together, under the soft lamplight on +Miss Elder's beloved "center table;" and studied her continually in +the stimulating presence of many equally devoted men. + +All that was best in him was stirred by her quiet grace, her reserved +friendliness; and the spur of rivalry was by no means wanting. Both +the girls had their full share of masculine attention in that busy +houseful, each having her own particular devotees, and the position of +comforter to the others. + +Morton became openly devoted to Vivian, and followed her about, seeking +every occasion to be alone with her, a thing difficult to accomplish. + +"I don't ever get a chance to see anything of you," he said. "Come on, +take a walk with me--won't you?" + +"You can see me all day, practically," she answered. "It seems to me +that I never saw a man with so little to do." + +"Now that's too bad, Vivian! Just because a fellow's out of a job for +a while! It isn't the first time, either; in my business you work +like--like anything, part of the time, and then get laid off. I work +hard enough when I'm at it." + +"Do you like it--that kind of work?" the girl asked. + +They were sitting in the family parlor, but the big hall was as usual +well occupied, and some one or more of the boarders always eager to come +in. Miss Elder at this moment had departed for special conference with +her cook, and Susie was at the theatre with Jimmie Saunders. Fordham +Greer had asked Vivian, as had Morton also, but she declined both on the +ground that she didn't like that kind of play. Mrs. Pettigrew, being +joked too persistently about her fondness for "long whist," had retired +to her room--but then, her room was divided from the parlor only by a +thin partition and a door with a most inefficacious latch. + +"Come over here by the fire," said Morton, "and I'll tell you all +about it." + +He seated himself on a sofa, comfortably adjacent to the fireplace, +but Vivian preferred a low rocker. + +"I suppose you mean travelling--and selling goods?" he pursued. "Yes, +I like it. There's lots of change--and you meet people. I'd hate to be +shut up in an office." + +"But do you--get anywhere with it? Is there any outlook for you? +Anything worth doing?" + +"There's a good bit of money to be made, if you mean that; that is, if +a fellow's a good salesman. I'm no slouch myself, when I feel in the +mood. But it's easy come, easy go, you see. And it's uncertain. There +are times like this, with nothing doing." + +"I didn't mean money, altogether," said the girl meditatively, "but +the work itself; I don't see any future for you." + +Morton was pleased with her interest. Reaching between his knees he +seized the edge of the small sofa and dragged it a little nearer, +quite unconscious that the act was distasteful to her. + +Though twenty-five years old, Vivian was extremely young in many ways, +and her introspection had spent itself in tending the inner shrine of +his early image. That ikon was now jarringly displaced by this +insistent presence, and she could not satisfy herself yet as to +whether the change pleased or displeased her. Again and again his +manner antagonized her, but his visible devotion carried an undeniable +appeal, and his voice stirred the deep well of emotion in her heart. + +"Look here, Vivian," he said, "you've no idea how it goes through me +to have you speak like that! You see I've been knocking around here +for all this time, and I haven't had a soul to take an interest. A +fellow needs the society of good women--like you." + +It is an old appeal, and always reaches the mark. To any women it is a +compliment, and to a young girl, doubly alluring. As she looked at +him, the very things she most disliked, his too free manner, his +coarsened complexion, a certain look about the eyes, suddenly assumed +a new interest as proofs of his loneliness and lack of right +companionship. What Mrs. St. Cloud had told her of the ennobling +influence of a true woman, flashed upon her mind. + +"You see, I had no mother," he said simply--"and Aunt Rella spoiled +me--." He looked now like the boy she used to know. + +"Of course I ought to have behaved better," he admitted. "I was +ungrateful--I can see it now. But it did seem to me I couldn't stand +that town a day longer!" + +She could sympathize with this feeling and showed it. + +"Then when a fellow knocks around as I have so long, he gets to where +he doesn't care a hang for anything. Seeing you again makes a lot of +difference, Vivian. I think, perhaps--I could take a new start." + +"Oh do! Do!" she said eagerly. "You're young enough, Morton. You can +do anything if you'll make up your mind to it." + +"And you'll help me?" + +"Of course I'll help you--if I can," said she. + +A feeling of sincere remorse for wasted opportunities rose in the +young man's mind; also, in the presence of this pure-eyed girl, a +sense of shame for his previous habits. He walked to the window, his +hands in his pockets, and looked out blankly for a moment. + +"A fellow does a lot of things he shouldn't," he began, clearing his +throat; she met him more than half way with the overflowing generosity +of youth and ignorance: + +"Never mind what you've done, Morton--you're going to do differently +now! Susie'll be so proud of you--and Aunt Orella!" + +"And you?" He turned upon her suddenly. + +"Oh--I? Of course! I shall be very proud of my old friend." + +She met his eyes bravely, with a lovely look of hope and courage, and +again his heart smote him. + +"I hope you will," he said and straightened his broad shoulders +manfully. + +"Morton Elder!" cried his aunt, bustling in with deep concern in her +voice, "What's this I hear about you're having a sore throat?" + +"Nothing, I hope," said he cheerfully. + +"Now, Morton"--Vivian showed new solicitude--"you know you have got a +sore throat; Susie told me." + +"Well, I wish she'd hold her tongue," he protested. "It's nothing at +all--be all right in a jiffy. No, I won't take any of your fixings, +Auntie." + +"I want Dr. Bellair to look at it anyhow," said his aunt, anxiously. +"She'll know if it's diphtheritic or anything. She's coming in." + +"She can just go out again," he said with real annoyance. "If there's +anything I've no use for it's a woman doctor!" + +"Oh hush, hush!" cried Vivian, too late. + +"Don't apologize," said Dr. Bellair from her doorway. "I'm not in the +least offended. Indeed, I had rather surmised that that was your +attitude; I didn't come in to prescribe, but to find Mrs. Pettigrew." + +"Want me?" inquired the old lady from her doorway. "Who's got a sore +throat?" + +"Morton has," Vivian explained, "and he won't let Aunt Rella--why +where is she?" + +Miss Elder had gone out as suddenly as she had entered. + +"Camphor's good for sore throat," Mrs. Pettigrew volunteered. "Three +or four drops on a piece of sugar. Is it the swelled kind, or the kind +that smarts?" + +"Oh--Halifax!" exclaimed Morton, disgustedly. "It isn't _any_ kind. I +haven't a sore throat." + +"Camphor's good for cold sores; you have one of them anyhow," the old +lady persisted, producing a little bottle and urging it upon Morton. +"Just keep it wet with camphor as often as you think of it, and it'll +go away." + +Vivian looked on, interested and sympathetic, but Morton put his hand +to his lip and backed away. + +"If you ladies don't stop trying to doctor me, I'll clear out +to-morrow, so there!" + +This appalling threat was fortunately unheard by his aunt, who popped +in again at this moment, dragging Dr. Hale with her. Dr. Bellair +smiled quietly to herself. + +"I wouldn't tell him what I wanted him for, or he wouldn't have come, +I'm sure--doctors are so funny," said Miss Elder, breathlessly, "but +here he is. Now, Dr. Hale, here's a foolish boy who won't listen to +reason, and I'm real worried about him. I want you to look at his +throat." + +Dr. Hale glanced briefly at Morton's angry face. + +"The patient seems to be of age, Miss Elder; and, if you'll excuse me, +does not seem to have authorized this call." + +"My affectionate family are bound to have me an invalid," Morton +explained. "I'm in imminent danger of hot baths, cold presses, mustard +plasters, aconite, belladonna and quinine--and if I can once reach my +hat--" + +He sidled to the door and fled in mock terror. + +"Thank you for your good intentions, Miss Elder," Dr. Hale remarked +drily. "You can bring water to the horse, but you can't make him drink +it, you see." + +"Now that that young man has gone we might have a game of whist," Mrs. +Pettigrew suggested, looking not ill-pleased. + +"For which you do not need me in the least," and Dr. Hale was about to +leave, but Dr. Bellair stopped him. + +"Don't be an everlasting Winter woodchuck, Dick! Sit down and play; do +be good. I've got to see old Mrs. Graham yet; she refuses to go to +sleep without it--knowing I'm so near. By by." + +Mrs. Pettigrew insisted on playing with Miss Elder, so Vivian had the +questionable pleasure of Dr. Hale as a partner. He was an expert, used +to frequent and scientific play, and by no means patient with the +girl's mistakes. + +He made no protest at a lost trick, but explained briefly between +hands what she should have remembered and how the cards lay, till she +grew quite discouraged. + +Her game was but mediocre, played only to oblige; and she never could +see why people cared so much about a mere pastime. Pride came to her +rescue at last; the more he criticised, the more determined she grew +to profit by all this advice; but her mind would wander now and then +to Morton, to his young life so largely wasted, it appeared, and to +what hope might lie before him. Could she be the help and stimulus he +seemed to think? How much did he mean by asking her to help him? + +"Why waste a thirteenth trump on your partner's thirteenth card?" Dr. +Hale was asking. + +She flushed a deep rose color and lifted appealing eyes to him. + +"Do forgive me; my mind was elsewhere." + +"Will you not invite it to return?" he suggested drily. + +He excused himself after a few games, and the girl at last was glad to +have him go. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, sitting unaccountably late at her front window, +watched the light burn steadily in the small office at the opposite +corner. Presently she saw a familiar figure slip in there, and, after +a considerable stay, come out quietly, cross the street, and let +himself in at their door. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +SIDE LIGHTS. + + High shines the golden shield in front, + To those who are not blind; + And clear and bright + In all men's sight, + The silver shield behind. + + In breadth and sheen each face is seen; + How tall it is, how wide; + But its thinness shows + To only those + Who stand on either side. + + +Theophile wept aloud in the dining-room, nursing one hand in the +other, like a hurt monkey. + +Most of the diners had departed, but Professor Toomey and Mr. Cuthbert +still lingered about Miss Susie's corner, to the evident displeasure +of Mr. Saunders, who lingered also. + +Miss Susie smiled upon them all; and Mr. Saunders speculated endlessly +as to whether this was due to her general friendliness of disposition, +to an interest in pleasing her aunt's boarders, to personal preference, +or, as he sometimes imagined, to a desire to tease him. + +Morton was talking earnestly with Vivian at the other end of the +table, from which the two angular waitresses had some time since +removed the last plate. One of them opened the swing door a crack and +thrust her head in. + +"He's burnt his hand," she said, "and his Ma's out. We don't dare go +near him." Both of these damsels professed great terror of the poor +boy, though he was invariably good natured, and as timid as a rabbit. + +"Do get the doctor!" cried Susie, nervously; she never felt at ease +with Theophile. + +"Dr. Bellair, I fear, is not in her office," Professor Toomey +announced. "We might summon Dr. Hale." + +"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cuthbert, rising heavily. "He's a great baby, +that's all. Here! Quit that howling and show me your hand!" + +He advanced upon Theophile, who fled toward Vivian. Morton rose in her +defence. "Get out!" he said, "Go back to the kitchen. There's nothing +the matter with you." + +"Wait till you get burned, and see if you think it's nothing," Jimmy +Saunders remarked with some acidity. He did not like Mr. Elder. "Come +here youngster, let me see it." + +But the boy was afraid of all of them, and cowered in a corner, still +bawling. "Stop your noise," Mr. Cuthbert shouted, "Get out of this, or +I'll put you out." + +Vivian rose to her feet. "You will do nothing of the kind. If you, all +of you, will go away, I can quiet Theophile, myself." + +Susie went promptly. She had every confidence in her friend's +management. Mr. Cuthbert was sulky, but followed Susie; and Mr. +Saunders, after some hesitation, followed Susie, too. + +Morton lingered, distrustful. + +"Please go, Morton. I know how to manage him. Just leave us alone," +Vivian urged. + +"You'd better let me put him out, and keep him out, till the old woman +comes back," Morton insisted. + +"You mean kindly, I don't doubt, but you're making me very angry," +said the girl, flushing; and he reluctantly left the room. Professor +Toomey had departed long since, to fulfill his suggestion of calling +Dr. Hale, but when that gentleman appeared, he found that Vivian had +quieted the boy, stayed him with flagons and comforted him with +apples, as it were, and bound up his hand in wet cooking soda. + +"It's not a very bad burn," she told the doctor, "but it hurt, and he +was frightened. He is afraid of everybody but his mother, and the men +were cross to him." + +"I see," said Dr. Hale, watching Theophile as he munched his apple, +keeping carefully behind Vivian and very near her. "He does not seem +much afraid of you, I notice, and he's used to me. The soda is all +right. Where did you learn first aid to the injured, and how to +handle--persons of limited understanding?" + +"The former I studied. The latter comes by nature, I think," replied +the girl, annoyed. + +He laughed, rather suddenly. "It's a good quality, often needed in +this world." + +"What's all this rumpus?" demanded Grandma, appearing at the door. +"Waking me up out of my nap!" Grandma's smooth, fine, still dark hair, +which she wore in "water waves," was somewhat disarranged, and she +held a little shawl about her. + +"Only the household baby, playing with fire," Dr. Hale answered. "Miss +Lane resolved herself into a Red Cross society, and attended to the +wounded. However I think I'll have a look at it now I'm here." + +Then was Vivian surprised, and compelled to admiration, to see with +what wise gentleness the big man won the confidence of the frightened +boy, examined the hurt hand, and bound it up again. + +"You'll do, all right, won't you Theophile," he said, and offered him +a shining nickel and a lozenge, "Which will you have, old man?" + +After some cautious hesitation the boy chose the lozenge, and hastily +applied it where it would do the most good. + +"Where's Mrs. Jones all this time?" suddenly demanded Grandma, who had +gone back to her room and fetched forth three fat, pink gumdrops for +the further consolation of the afflicted. + +"She had to go out to buy clothes for him, she hardly ever leaves him +you know," Vivian explained. "And the girls out there are so afraid +that they won't take any care of him." + +This was true enough, but Vivian did not know that "Mrs. Jones" had +returned and, peering through her favorite peephole, had seen her send +out the others, and attend to the boy's burn with her own hand. Jeanne +Jeaune was not a sentimental person, and judged from her son's easy +consolation that he was little hurt, but she watched the girl's prompt +tenderness with tears in her eyes. + +"She regards him, as any other boy;" thought the mother. "His +infirmity, she does not recall it." Dr. Hale had long since won her +approval, and when Theophile at last ran out, eager to share his +gumdrops, he found her busy as usual in the kitchen. + +She was a silent woman, professionally civil to the waitresses, but +never cordial. The place pleased her, she was saving money, and she +knew that there must be _some_ waitresses--these were probably no +worse than others. For her unfortunate son she expected little, and +strove to keep him near her so far as possible; but Vivian's real +kindness touched her deeply. + +She kept a sharp eye on whatever went on in the dining-room, and what +with the frequent dances and the little groups which used to hang +about the table after meals, or fill a corner of the big room for +quiet chats, she had good opportunities. + +Morton's visible devotion she watched with deep disapproval; though +she was not at all certain that her "young lady" was favorably +disposed toward him. She could see and judge the feelings of the men, +these many men who ate and drank and laughed and paid court to both +the girls. Dr. Hale's brusque coldness she accepted, as from a higher +order of being. Susie's gay coquetries were transparent to her; but +Vivian she could not read so well. + +The girl's deep conscientiousness, her courtesy and patience with all, +and the gentle way in which she evaded the attentions so persistently +offered, were new to Jeanne's experience. When Morton hung about and +tried always to talk with Vivian exclusively, she saw her listen with +kind attention, but somehow without any of that answering gleam which +made Susie's blue eyes so irresistible. + +"She has the lovers, but she has _no_ beauty--to compare with my young +lady!" Jeanne commented inwardly. + +If the sad-eyed Jeanne had been of Scotch extraction instead of +French, she might have quoted the explanation of the homely widow of +three husbands when questioned by the good-looking spinster, who +closed her inquiry by saying aggrievedly, "And ye'r na sae bonny." + +"It's na the bonny that does it," explained the triple widow, "It's +the come hither i' the een." + +Susie's eyes sparkled with the "come hither," but those who came +failed to make any marked progress. She was somewhat more cautious +after the sudden approach and overthrow of Mr. A. Smith; yet more than +one young gentleman boarder found business called him elsewhere, with +marked suddenness; his place eagerly taken by another. The Cottonwoods +had a waiting list, now. + +Vivian made friends first, lovers afterward. Then if the love proved +vain, the friendship had a way of lingering. Hers was one of those +involved and over-conscientious characters, keenly sensitive to the +thought of duty and to others, pain. She could not play with hearts +that might be hurt in the handling, nor could she find in herself a +quick and simple response to the appeals made to her; there were so +many things to be considered. + +Morton studied her with more intensity than he had ever before devoted +to another human being; his admiration and respect grew with +acquaintance, and all that was best in him rose in response to her +wise, sweet womanliness. He had the background of their childhood's +common experiences and her early sentiment--how much he did not know, +to aid him. Then there was the unknown country of his years of +changeful travel, many tales that he could tell her, many more which +he found he could not. + +He pressed his advantage, cautiously, finding the fullest response +when he used the appeal to her uplifting influence. When they talked +in the dining-room the sombre eye at the peephole watched with growing +disapproval. The kitchen was largely left to her and her son by her +fellow workers, on account of their nervous dislike for Theophile, and +she utilized her opportunities. + +Vivian had provided the boy with some big bright picture blocks, and +he spent happy hours in matching them on the white scoured table, +while his mother sewed, and watched. He had forgotten his burn by now, +and she sewed contentedly for there was no one talking to her young +lady but Dr. Hale, who lingered unaccountably. + +To be sure, Vivian had brought him a plate of cakes from the pantry, +and he seemed to find the little brown things efficiently seductive, +or perhaps it was Grandma who held him, sitting bolt upright in her +usual place, at the head of one table, and asking a series of firm but +friendly questions. This she found the only way of inducing Dr. Hale +to talk at all. + +Yes, he was going away--Yes, he would be gone some time--A matter of +weeks, perhaps--He could not say--His boys were all well--He did not +wonder that they saw a good deal of them--It was a good place for them +to come. + +"You might come oftener yourself," said Grandma, "and play real whist +with me. These young people play _Bridge_!" She used this word with +angry scorn, as symbol of all degeneracy; and also despised pinochle, +refusing to learn it, though any one could induce her to play bezique. +Some of the more venturous and argumentative, strove to persuade her +that the games were really the same. + +"You needn't tell me," Mrs. Pettigrew would say, "I don't want to play +any of your foreign games." + +"But, Madam, bezique is not an English word," Professor Toomey had +insisted, on one occasion; to which she had promptly responded, +"Neither is 'bouquet!'" + +Dr. Hale shook his head with a smile. He had a very nice smile, even +Vivian admitted that. All the hard lines of his face curved and +melted, and the light came into those deep-set eyes and shone warmly. + +"I should enjoy playing whist with you very often, Mrs. Pettigrew; but +a doctor has no time to call his own. And a good game of whist must +not be interrupted by telephones." + +"There's Miss Orella!" said Grandma, as the front door was heard to +open. "She's getting to be quite a gadder." + +"It does her good, I don't doubt," the doctor gravely remarked, rising +to go. Miss Orella met him in the hall, and bade him good-bye with +regret. "We do not see much of you, doctor; I hope you'll be back soon." + +"Why it's only a little trip; you good people act as if I were going +to Alaska," he said, "It makes me feel as if I had a family!" + +"Pity you haven't," remarked Grandma with her usual definiteness. +Dykeman stood holding Miss Orella's wrap, with his dry smile. "Good-bye, +Hale," he said. "I'll chaperon your orphan asylum for you. So long." + +"Come out into the dining-room," said Miss Orella, after Dr. Hale had +departed. "I know you must be hungry," and Mr. Dykeman did not deny it. +In his quiet middle-aged way, he enjoyed this enlarged family circle as +much as the younger fellows, and he and Mr. Unwin seemed to vie with one +another to convince Miss Orella that life still held charms for her. Mr. +Skee also hovered about her to a considerable extent, but most of his +devotion was bestowed upon damsels of extreme youth. + +"Here's one that's hungry, anyhow," remarked Dr. Bellair, coming out +of her office at the moment, with her usual clean and clear-starched +appearance. "I've been at it for eighteen hours, with only bites to +eat. Yes, all over; both doing well." + +It was a source of deep self-congratulation to Dr. Bellair to watch +her friend grow young again in the new atmosphere. To Susie it +appeared somewhat preposterous, as her Aunt seems to her mind a +permanently elderly person; while to Mrs. Pettigrew it looked only +natural. "Rella's only a young thing anyway," was her comment. But +Jane Bellair marked and approved the added grace of each new gown, the +blossoming of lace and ribbon, the appearance of long-hoarded bits of +family jewelry, things held "too showy to wear" in Bainville, but +somehow quite appropriate here. + +Vivian and Grandma made Miss Orella sit down at her own table head, +and bustled about in the pantry, bringing cheese and crackers, cake +and fruit; but the doctor poked her head through the swing door and +demanded meat. + +"I don't want a refection, I want food," she said, and Jeanne +cheerfully brought her a plate of cold beef. She was much attached to +Dr. Bellair, for reasons many and good. + +"What I like about this place," said Mrs. Pettigrew, surveying the +scene from the head of her table, "is that there's always something +going on." + +"What I like about it," remarked Dr. Bellair, between +well-Fletcherized mouthfuls, "is that people have a chance to grow and +are growing." + +"What I like," Mr. Dykeman looked about him, and paused in the middle +of a sentence, as was his wont; "is being beautifully taken care of +and made comfortable--any man likes that." + +Miss Orella beamed upon him. Emboldened, he went on: "And what I like +most is the new, delightful"--he was gazing admiringly at her, and she +looked so embarrassed that he concluded with a wide margin of +safety--"friends I'm making." + +Miss Orella's rosy flush, which had risen under his steady gaze, ebbed +again to her usual soft pink. Even her coldest critics, in the most +caustic Bainvillian circles, could never deny that she had "a good +complexion." New England, like old England, loves roses on the cheeks, +and our dry Western winds play havoc with them. But Miss Orella's +bloomed brighter than at home. + +"It is pleasant," she said softly; "all this coming and going--and the +nice people--who stay." She looked at no one in particular, yet Mr. +Dykeman seemed pleased. + +"There's another coming, I guess," remarked Grandma, as a carriage was +heard to stop outside, the gate slammed, and trunk-burdened steps +pounded heavily across the piazza. The bell rang sharply, Mr. Dykeman +opened the door, and the trunk came in first--a huge one, dumped +promptly on the hall floor. + +Behind the trunk and the man beneath it entered a lady; slim, elegant, +graceful, in a rich silk dust coat and soft floating veils. + +"My dear Miss Elder!" she said, coming forward; "and Vivian! Dear +Vivian! I thought you could put me up, somewhere, and told him to come +right here. O--and please--I haven't a bit of change left in my +purse--will you pay the man?" + +"Well, if it isn't Mrs. St. Cloud," said Grandma, without any note of +welcome in her voice. + +Mr. Dykeman paid the man; looked at the trunk, and paid him some more. +The man departed swearing softly at nothing in particular, and Mr. +Dykeman departed also to his own room. + +Miss Orella's hospitable soul was much exercised. Refuse shelter to an +old acquaintance, a guest, however unexpected, she could not; yet she +had no vacant room. Vivian, flushed and excited, moved anew by her +old attraction, eagerly helped the visitor take off her wraps, Mrs. +Pettigrew standing the while, with her arms folded, in the doorway of +her room, her thin lips drawn to a hard line, as one intending to +repel boarders at any risk to life or limb. Dr. Bellair had returned +to her apartments at the first sound of the visitor's voice. + +She, gracious and calm in the midst of confusion, sat in a wreath of +down-dropped silken wrappings, and held Vivian's hand. + +"You dear child!" she said, "how well you look! What a charming place +this is. The doctors sent me West for my health; I'm on my way to +California. But when I found the train stopped here--I didn't know +that it did till I saw the name--I had them take my trunk right off, +and here I am! It is such a pleasure to see you all." + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and disappeared completely, closing the +door behind her. + +"Anything will do, Miss Elder," the visitor went on. "I shall find a +hall bedroom palatial after a sleeping car; or a garret--anything! +It's only for a few days, you know." + +Vivian was restraining herself from hospitable offers by remembering +that her room was also Susie's, and Miss Orella well knew that to give +up hers meant sleeping on a hard, short sofa in that all-too-public +parlor. She was hastily planning in her mind to take Susie in with her +and persuade Mrs. Pettigrew to harbor Vivian, somewhat deterred by +memories of the old lady's expression as she departed, when Mr. +Dykeman appeared at the door, suitcase in hand. + +"I promised Hale I'd keep house for those fatherless boys, you know," +he said. "In the meantime, you're quite welcome to use my room, Miss +Elder." And he departed, her blessing going with him. + +More light refreshments were now in order. Mrs. St. Cloud protesting +that she wanted nothing, but finding much to praise in the delicacies +set before her. Several of the other boarders drifted in, always glad +of an extra bite before going to bed. Susie and Mr. Saunders returned +from a walk, Morton reappeared, and Jeanne, peering sharply in, +resentful of this new drain upon her pantry shelves, saw a fair, +sweet-faced woman, seated at ease, eating daintily, while Miss Elder +and Vivian waited upon her, and the men all gathered admiringly about. +Jeanne Jeaune wagged her head. "Ah, ha, Madame!" she muttered softly, +"Such as you I have met before!" Theophile she had long since sent to +bed, remaining up herself to keep an eye on the continued disturbance +in the front of the house. Vivian and Susie brought the dishes out, +and would have washed them or left them till morning for the maids. + +"Truly, no," said Jeanne Jeaune; "go you to your beds; I will attend +to these." + +One by one she heard them go upstairs, distant movement and soft +dissuasion as two gentlemen insisted on bearing Mrs. St. Cloud's trunk +into her room, receding voices and closing doors. There was no sound +in the dining-room now, but still she waited; the night was not yet +quiet. + +Miss Elder and Susie, Vivian also, hovered about, trying to make this +new guest comfortable, in spite of her graceful protests that they +must not concern themselves in the least about her, that she wanted +nothing--absolutely nothing. At last they left her, and still later, +after some brief exchange of surprised comment and warm appreciation +of Mr. Dykeman's thoughtfulness, the family retired. Vivian, when her +long hair was smoothly braided for the night, felt an imperative need +for water. + +"Don't you want some, Susie? I'll bring you a glass." But Susie only +huddled the bedclothes about her pretty shoulders and said: + +"Don't bring me _anything_, until to-morrow morning!" + +So her room-mate stole out softly in her wrapper, remembering that a +pitcher of cool water still stood on one of the tables. The windows to +the street let in a flood of light from a big street lamp, and she +found her way easily, but was a bit startled for a moment to find a +man still sitting there, his head upon his arms. + +"Why, Morton," she said; "is that you? What are you sitting up for? +It's awfully late. I'm just after some water." She poured a glassful. +"Don't you want some?" + +"No, thank you," he said. "Yes, I will. Give me some, please." + +The girl gave him a glass, drank from her own and set it down, turning +to go, but he reached out and caught a flowing sleeve of her kimono. + +"Don't go, Vivian! Do sit down and talk to a fellow. I've been trying +to see you for days and days." + +"Why, Morton Elder, how absurd! You have certainly seen me every day, +and we've talked hours this very evening. This is no time for +conversation, surely." + +"The best time in the world," he assured her. "All the other times there +are people about--dozens--hundreds--swarms! I want to talk to just you." + +There were certainly no dozens or hundreds about now, but as certainly +there was one, noting with keen and disapproving interest this +midnight tête-à-tête. It did not last very long, and was harmless and +impersonal enough while it lasted. + +Vivian sat for a few moments, listening patiently while the young man +talked of his discouragements, his hopes, his wishes to succeed in +life, to be worthy of her; but when the personal note sounded, when he +tried to take her hand in the semi-darkness, then her New England +conscience sounded also, and she rose to her feet and left him. + +"We'll talk about that another time," she said. "Now do be quiet and +do not wake people up." + +He stole upstairs, dutifully, and she crept softly back to her room +and got into bed, without eliciting more than a mild grunt from sleepy +Susie. Silence reigned at last in the house. Not for long, however. + +At about half past twelve Dr. Bellair was roused from a well-earned +sleep by a light, insistent tap upon her door. She listened, +believing it to be a wind-stirred twig; but no, it was a finger +tap--quiet--repeated. She opened the door upon Jeanne in her +stocking feet. + +"Your pardon, Mrs. Doctor," said the visitor, "but it is of importance. +May I speak for a little? No, I'm not ill, and we need not a light." + +They sat in the clean little office, the swaying cottonwood boughs +making a changeful pattern on the floor. + +"You are a doctor, and you can make an end to it--you must make an end +to it," said Jeanne, after a little hesitation. "This young man--this +nephew--he must not marry my young lady." + +"What makes you think he wants to?" asked the doctor. + +"I have seen, I have heard--I know," said Jeanne. "You know, all can +see that he loves her. _He!_ Not such as he for my young lady." + +"Why do you object to him, Jeanne?" + +"He has lived the bad life," said the woman, grimly. + +"Most young men are open to criticism," said Dr. Bellair. "Have you +anything definite to tell me--anything that you could _prove_?--if it +were necessary to save her?" She leaned forward, elbows on knees. + +Jeanne sat in the flickering shadows, considering her words. "He has +had the sickness," she said at last. + +"Can you prove that?" + +"I can prove to you, a doctor, that Coralie and Anastasia and +Estelle--they have had it. They are still alive; but not so beautiful." + +"Yes; but how can you prove it on him?" + +"I know he was with them. Well, it was no secret. I myself have +seen--he was there often." + +"How on earth have you managed not to be recognized?" Dr. Bellair +inquired after a few moments. + +Jeanne laughed bitterly. "That was eight years ago; he was but a +boy--gay and foolish, with the others. What does a boy know?... Also, +at that time I was blonde, and--of a difference." + +"I see," said the doctor, "I see! That's pretty straight. You know +personally of that time, and you know the record of those others. But +that was a long time ago." + +"I have heard of him since, many times, in such company," said Jeanne. +They sat in silence for some time. A distant church clock struck a +single deep low note. The woman rose, stood for a hushed moment, +suddenly burst forth with hushed intensity: "You must save her, +doctor--you will! I was young once," she went on. "I did not know--as +she does not. I married, and--_that_ came to me! It made me a devil--for +awhile. Tell her, doctor--if you must; tell her about my boy!" + +She went away, weeping silently, and Dr. Bellair sat sternly thinking +in her chair, and fell asleep in it from utter weariness. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A MIXTURE. + + In poetry and painting and fiction we see + Such praise for the Dawn of the Day, + We've long since been convinced that a sunrise must be + All Glorious and Golden and Gay. + + But we find there are mornings quite foggy and drear, + With the clouds in a low-hanging pall; + Till the grey light of daylight can hardly make clear + That the sun has arisen at all. + + +Dr. Richard Hale left his brood of temporary orphans without really +expecting for them any particular oversight from Andrew Dykeman; but +the two were sufficiently close friends to well warrant the latter in +moving over to The Monastery--as Jimmie Saunders called it. + +Mr. Dykeman was sufficiently popular with the young men to be welcome, +even if he had not had a good excuse, and when they found how +super-excellent his excuse was they wholly approved. + +To accommodate Miss Orella was something--all the boys liked Miss +Orella. They speculated among themselves on her increasing youth and +good looks, and even exchanged sagacious theories as to the particular +acting cause. But when they found that Mr. Dykeman's visit was to make +room for the installation of Mrs. St. Cloud, they were more than +pleased. + +All the unexpressed ideals of masculine youth seemed centered in this +palely graceful lady; the low, sweet voice, the delicate hands, the +subtle sympathy of manner, the nameless, quiet charm of dress. + +Young Burns became her slave on sight, Lawson and Peters fell on the +second day; not one held out beyond the third. Even Susie's +attractions paled, her very youth became a disadvantage; she lacked +that large considering tenderness. + +"Fact is," Mr. Peters informed his friends rather suddenly, "young +women are selfish. Naturally, of course. It takes some experience +to--well, to understand a fellow." They all agreed with him. + +Mr. Dykeman, quiet and reserved as always, was gravely polite to the +newcomer, and Mr. Skee revolved at a distance, making observations. +Occasionally he paid some court to her, at which times she was cold to +him; and again he devoted himself to the other ladies with his +impressive air, as of one bowing low and sweeping the floor with a +plumed hat. + +Mr. Skee's Stetson had, as a matter of fact, no sign of plumage, and +his bows were of a somewhat jerky order; but his gallantry was +sweeping and impressive, none the less. If he remained too far away +Mrs. St. Cloud would draw him to her circle, which consisted of all +the other gentlemen. + +There were two exceptions. Mr. James Saunders had reached the stage +where any woman besides Susie was but a skirted ghost, and Morton was by +this time so deeply devoted to Vivian that he probably would not have +wavered even if left alone. He was not wholly a free agent, however. + +Adela St. Cloud had reached an age when something must be done. Her +mysterious absent husband had mysteriously and absently died, and +still she never breathed a word against him. But the Bible Class in +Bainville furnished no satisfactory material for further hopes, the +place of her earlier dwelling seemed not wholly desirable now, and the +West had called her. + +Finding herself comfortably placed in Mr. Dykeman's room, and judging +from the number of his shoe-trees and the quality of his remaining +toilet articles that he might be considered "suitable," she decided to +remain in the half-way house for a season. So settled, why, for a +thousand reasons one must keep one's hand in. + +There were men in plenty, from twenty year old Archie to the uncertain +decades of Mr. Skee. Idly amusing herself, she questioned that +gentleman indirectly as to his age, drawing from him astounding +memories of the previous century. + +When confronted with historic proof that the events he described were +over a hundred years passed, he would apologize, admitting that he had +no memory for dates. She owned one day, with gentle candor, to being +thirty-three. + +"That must seem quite old to a man like you, Mr. Skee. I feel very +old sometimes!" She lifted large eyes to him, and drew her filmy scarf +around her shoulders. + +"Your memory must be worse than mine, ma'am," he replied, "and work +the same way. You've sure got ten or twenty years added on +superfluous! Now me!" He shook his head; "I don't remember when I was +born at all. And losin' my folks so young, _and_ the family Bible--I +don't expect I ever shall. But I 'low I'm all of ninety-seven." + +This being palpably impossible, and as the only local incidents he +could recall in his youth were quite dateless adventures among the +Indians, she gave it up. Why Mr. Skee should have interested her at +all was difficult to say, unless it was the appeal to his +uncertainty--he was at least a game fish, if not edible. + +Of the women she met, Susie and Vivian were far the most attractive, +wherefore Mrs. St. Cloud, with subtle sympathy and engaging frankness, +fairly cast Mr. Saunders in Susie's arms, and vice versa, as +opportunity occurred. + +Morton she rather snubbed, treated him as a mere boy, told tales of his +childhood that were in no way complimentary--so that he fled from her. + +With Vivian she renewed her earlier influence to a great degree. + +With some inquiry and more intuition she discovered what it was that +had chilled the girl's affection for her. + +"I don't wonder, my dear child," she said; "I never told you of +that--I never speak of it to anyone.... It was one of the--" she +shivered slightly--"darkest griefs of a very dark time.... He was a +beautiful boy.... I never _dreamed_----" + +The slow tears rose in her beautiful eyes till they shone like +shimmering stars. + +"Heaven send no such tragedy may ever come into your life, dear!" + +She reached a tender hand to clasp the girl's. "I am so glad of your +happiness!" + +Vivian was silent. As a matter of fact, she was not happy enough to +honestly accept sympathy. Mrs. St. Cloud mistook her attitude, or +seemed to. + +"I suppose you still blame me. Many people did. I often blame myself. +One cannot be _too_ careful. It's a terrible responsibility, +Vivian--to have a man love you." + +The girl's face grew even more somber. That was one thing which was +troubling her. + +"But your life is all before you," pursued the older woman. "Your +dream has come true! How happy--how wonderfully happy you must be!" + +"I am not, not _really_," said the girl. "At least----" + +"I know--I know; I understand," Mrs. St. Cloud nodded with tender +wisdom. "You are not sure. Is not that it?" + +That was distinctly "it," and Vivian so agreed. + +"There is no other man?" + +"Not the shadow of one!" said the girl firmly. And as her questioner +had studied the field and made up her mind to the same end, she +believed her. + +"Then you must not mind this sense of uncertainty. It always happens. +It is part of the morning clouds of maidenhood, my dear--it vanishes +with the sunrise!" And she smiled beatifically. + +Then the girl unburdened herself of her perplexities. She could +always express herself so easily to this sympathetic friend. + +"There are so many things that I--dislike--about him," she said. +"Habits of speech--of manners. He is not--not what I----" + +She paused. + +"Not all the Dream! Ah! My dear child, they never are! We are given +these beautiful ideals to guard and guide us; but the real is never +quite the same. But when a man's soul opens to you--when he loves--these +small things vanish. They can be changed--you will change them." + +"Yes--he says so," Vivian admitted. "He says that he knows that he +is--unworthy--and has done wrong things. But so have I, for that +matter." + +Mrs. St. Cloud agreed with her. "I am glad you feel that, my dear. Men +have their temptations--their vices--and we good women are apt to be +hard on them. But have we no faults? Ah, my dear, I have seen good +women--young girls, like yourself--ruin a man's whole life by--well, +by heartlessness; by lack of understanding. Most young men do things +they become ashamed of when they really love. And in the case of a +motherless boy like this--lonely, away from his home, no good woman's +influence about--what else could we expect? But you can make a new man +of him. A glorious work!" + +"That's what he says. I'm not so sure--" The girl hesitated. + +"Not sure you can? Oh, my child, it is the most beautiful work on +earth! To see from year to year a strong, noble character grow under +your helping hand! To be the guiding star, the inspiration of a man's +life. To live to hear him say: + + "'Ah, who am I that God should bow + From heaven to choose a wife for me? + What have I done He should endow + My home with thee?'" + +There was a silence. + +Vivian's dark eyes shone with appreciation for the tender beauty of +the lines, the lovely thought. Then she arose and walked nervously +across the floor, returning presently. + +"Mrs. St. Cloud----" + +"Call me Adela, my dear." + +"Adela--dear Adela--you--you have been married. I have no mother. Tell +me, ought not there to be more--more love? I'm fond of Morton, of +course, and I do want to help him--but surely, if I loved him--I +should feel happier--more sure!" + +"The first part of love is often very confusing, my dear. I'll tell +you how it is: just because you are a woman grown and feel your +responsibilities, especially here, where you have so many men friends, +you keep Morton at a distance. Then the external sort of cousinly +affection you have for him rather blinds you to other feelings. But I +have not forgotten--and I'm sure you have not--the memory of that hot, +sweet night so long ago; the world swimming in summer moonlight and +syringa sweetness; the stillness everywhere--and your first kiss!" + +Vivian started to her feet. She moved to the window and stood awhile; +came back and kissed her friend warmly, and went away without another +word. + +The lady betook herself to her toilet, and spent some time on it, for +there was one of Miss Peeder's classes that night. + +Mrs. St. Cloud danced with many, but most with Mr. Dykeman; no woman +in the room had her swimming grace of motion, and yet, with all the +throng of partners about her she had time to see Susie's bright head +bobbing about beneath Mr. Saunders down-bent, happy face, and Vivian, +with her eyes cast down, dancing with Morton, whose gaze never left +her. He was attention itself, he brought her precisely the supper she +liked, found her favorite corner to rest in, took her to sit on the +broad piazza between dances, remained close to her, still talking +earnestly, when all the outsiders had gone. + +Vivian found it hard to sleep that night. All that he had said of his +new hope, new power, new courage, bore out Mrs. St. Cloud's bright +promise of a new-built life. And some way, as she had listened and did +not forbid, the touch of his hand, the pressure of his arm, grew +warmer and brought back the memories of that summer night so long ago. + +He had begged hard for a kiss before he left her, and she quite had to +tear herself away, as Susie drifted in, also late; and Aunt Orella said +they must all go to bed right away--she was tired if they were not. + +She did look tired. This dance seemed somehow less agreeable to her +than had others. She took off her new prettinesses and packed them +away in a box in the lower drawer. + +"I'm an old fool!" she said. "Trying to dress up like a girl. I'm +ashamed of myself!" Quite possibly she did not sleep well either, yet +she had no room-mate to keep her awake by babbling on, as Susie did to +Vivian. + +Her discourse was first, last and always about Jimmie Saunders. He had +said this, he had looked that, he had done so; and what did Vivian +think he meant? And wasn't he handsome--and _so_ clever! + +Little Susie cuddled close and finally dropped off asleep, her arms +around Vivian. But the older girl counted the hours; her head, or her +heart, in a whirl. + +Morton Elder was wakeful, too. So much so that he arose with a +whispered expletive, took his shoes in his hand, and let himself +softly out for a tramp in the open. + +This was not the first of his love affairs, but with all his hot young +heart he wished it was. He stood still, alone on the high stretches of +moonlit mesa and looked up at the measureless, brilliant spaces above +him. + +"I'll keep straight--if I can have her!" he repeated under his breath. +"I will! I will!" + +It had never occurred to him before to be ashamed of the various +escapades of his youth. He had done no more than others, many others. +None of "the boys" he associated with intended to do what was wrong; +they were quite harsh in judgment of those who did, according to their +standards. None of them had been made acquainted with the social or +pathological results of their amusements, and the mere "Zutritt ist +Verboten" had never impressed them at all. + +But now the gentler influences of his childhood, even the narrow +morality of Bainville, rose in pleasant colors in his mind. He wished +he had saved his money, instead of spending it faster than it came in. +He wished he had kept out of poker and solo and barrooms generally. He +wished, in a dumb, shamed way, that he could come to her as clean as +she was. But he threw his shoulders back and lifted his head +determinedly. + +"I'll be good to her," he determined; "I'll make her a good husband." + +In the days that followed his devotion was as constant as before, but +more intelligent. His whole manner changed and softened. He began to +read the books she liked, and to talk about them. He was gentler to +everyone, more polite, even to the waitresses, tender and thoughtful +of his aunt and sister. Vivian began to feel a pride in him, and in +her influence, deepening as time passed. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, visiting the library on one of her frequent errands, +was encountered there and devotedly escorted home by Mr. Skee. + +"That is a most fascinating young lady who has Mr. Dykeman's room; +don't you think so, ma'am?" quoth he. + +"I do not," said Mrs. Pettigrew. "Young! She's not so young as you +are--nothing like--never was!" + +He threw back his head and laughed his queer laugh, which looked so +uproarious and made so little noise. + +"She certainly is a charmer, whatever her age may be," he continued. + +"Glad you think so, Mr. Skee. It may be time you lost a fourth!" + +"Lost a fourth? What in the--Hesperides!" + +"If you can't guess what, you needn't ask me!" said the lady, with +some tartness. "But for my own part I prefer the Apaches. Good +afternoon, Mr. Skee." + +She betook herself to her room with unusual promptness, and refused to +be baited forth by any kind of offered amusement. + +"It's right thoughtful of Andy Dykeman, gettin' up this entertainment +for Mrs. St. Cloud, isn't it, Mrs. Elder?" Thus Mr. Skee to Miss +Orella a little later. + +"I don't think it is Mr. Dykeman's idea at all," she told him. "It's +those boys over there. They are all wild about her, quite naturally." +She gave a little short sigh. "If Dr. Hale were at home I doubt if he +would encourage it." + +"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't, Ma'am. He's certainly down on the fair +sex, even such a peacherino as this one. But with Andy, now, it's +different. He is a man of excellent judgment." + +"I guess all men's judgment is pretty much alike in some ways," said +Miss Orella, oracularly. She seemed busy and constrained, and Mr. Skee +drifted off and paid court as best he might to Dr. Bellair. + +"Charmed to find you at home, Ma'am," he said; "or shall I say at +office?" + +"Call it what you like, Mr. Skee; it's been my home for a good many +years now." + +"It's a mighty fine thing for a woman, livin' alone, to have a +business, seems to me," remarked the visitor. + +"It's a fine thing for any woman, married or single, to my mind," she +answered. "I wish I could get Vivian Lane started in that kindergarten +she talks about." + +"There's kids enough, and goodness knows they need a gardener! What's +lackin'? House room?" + +"She thinks she's not really competent. She has no regular +certificate, you see. Her parents would never let go of her long +enough," the doctor explained. + +"Some parents _are_ pretty graspin', ain't they? To my mind, Miss +Vivian would be a better teacher than lots of the ticketed ones. She's +got the natural love of children." + +"Yes, and she has studied a great deal. She just needs an impetus." + +"Perhaps if she thought there was 'a call' she might be willing. I +doubt if the families here realize what they're missin'. Aint there +some among your patients who could be stirred up a little?" + +The doctor thought there were, and he suggested several names from his +apparently unlimited acquaintance. + +"I believe in occupation for the young. It takes up their minds," said +Mr. Skee, and departed with serenity. He strolled over to Dr. Hale's +fence and leaned upon it, watching the preparations. Mr. Dykeman, in +his shirt-sleeves, stood about offering suggestions, while the young +men swarmed here and there with poles and stepladders, hanging Chinese +lanterns. + +"Hello, Elmer; come in and make yourself useful," called Mr. Dykeman. + +"I'll come in, but I'll be switched if I'll be useful," he replied, +laying a large hand on the fence and vaulting his long legs over it +with an agility amazing in one of his alleged years. "You all are sure +putting yourself out for this occasion. Is it somebody's birthday?" + +"No; it's a get-up of these youngsters. They began by wanting Mrs. St. +Cloud to come over to tea--afternoon tea--and now look at this!" + +"Did she misunderstand the invitation as bad as that?" + +"O, no; just a gradual change of plan. One thing leads to another, you +know. Here, Archie! That bush won't hold the line. Put it on the +willow." + +"I see," said Mr. Skee; "and, as we're quotin' proverbs, I might +remark that 'While the cat's away the mice will play.'" + +Mr. Dykeman smiled. "It's rather a good joke on Hale, isn't it?" + +"Would be if he should happen to come home--and find this hen-party +on." They both chuckled. + +"I guess he's good for a week yet," said Mr. Dykeman. "Those medical +associations do a lot of talking. Higher up there, George--a good +deal higher." + +He ran over to direct the boys, and Mr. Skee, hands behind him, +strolled up and down the garden, wearing a meditative smile. He and +Andrew Dykeman had been friends for many long years. + +Dr. Bellair used her telephone freely after Mr. Skee's departure, +making notes and lists of names. Late in the afternoon she found +Vivian in the hall. + +"I don't see much of you these days, Miss Lane," she said. + +The girl flushed. Since Mrs. St. Cloud's coming and their renewed +intimacy she had rather avoided the doctor, and that lady had kept +herself conspicuously out of the way. + +"Don't call me Miss Lane; I'm Vivian--to my friends." + +"I hope you count me a friend?" said Dr. Bellair, gravely. + +"I do, Doctor, and I'm proud to. But so many things have been +happening lately," she laughed, a little nervously. "The truth is, I'm +really ashamed to talk to you; I'm so lazy." + +"That's exactly what I wanted to speak about. Aren't you ready to +begin that little school of yours?" + +"I'd like to--I should, really," said the girl. "But, somehow, I don't +know how to set about it." + +"I've been making some inquiries," said the doctor. "There are six or +eight among my patients that you could count on--about a dozen young +ones. How many could you handle?" + +"Oh, I oughtn't to have more than twenty in any case. A dozen would be +plenty to begin with. Do you think I _could_ count on them--really?" + +"I tell you what I'll do," her friend offered; "I'll take you around +and introduce you to any of them you don't know. Most of 'em come here +to the dances. There's Mrs. Horsford and Mrs. Blake, and that little +Mary Jackson with the twins. You'll find they are mostly friends." + +"You are awfully kind," said the girl. "I wish"--her voice took on a +sudden note of intensity--"I do wish I were strong, like you, Dr. +Bellair." + +"I wasn't very strong--at your age--my child. I did the weakest of +weak things--" + +Vivian was eager to ask her what it was, but a door opened down one +side passage and the doctor quietly disappeared down the other, as +Mrs. St. Cloud came out. + +"I thought I heard your voice," she said. "And Miss Elder's, wasn't +it?" + +"No; it was Dr. Bellair." + +"A strong character, and a fine physician, I understand. I'm sorry she +does not like me." + +Mrs. St. Cloud's smile made it seem impossible that anyone should +dislike her. + +Vivian could not, however, deny the fact, and was not diplomatic enough +to smooth it over, which her more experienced friend proceeded to do. + +"It is temperamental," she said gently. "If we had gone to school +together we would not have been friends. She is strong, downright, +progressive; I am weaker, more sensitive, better able to bear than to +do. You must find her so stimulating." + +"Yes," the girl said. "She was talking to me about my school." + +"Your school?" + +"Didn't you know I meant to have a sort of kindergarten? We planned it +even before starting; but Miss Elder seemed to need me at first, and +since then--things--have happened----" + +"And other things will happen, dear child! Quite other and different +things." + +The lady's smile was bewitching. Vivian flushed slowly under her gaze. + +"Oh, my dear, I watched you dancing together! You don't mind my +noticing, do you?" + +Her voice was suddenly tender and respectful. "I do not wish to +intrude, but you are very dear to me. Come into my room--do--and tell +me what to wear to-night." + +Mrs. St. Cloud's clothes had always been a delight to Vivian. They +were what she would have liked to wear--and never quite have dared, +under the New England fear of being "too dressy." Her own beauty was +kept trimly neat, like a closed gentian. + +Her friend was in the gayest mood. She showed her a trunkful of +delicate garments and gave her a glittering embroidered scarf, which +the girl rapturously admired, but declared she would never have the +courage to wear. + +"You shall wear it this very night," declared the lady. "Here--show me +what you've got. You shall be as lovely as you _are_, for once!" + +So Vivian brought out her modest wardrobe, and the older woman chose a +gown of white, insisted on shortening the sleeves to fairy wings of +lace, draped the scarf about her white neck, raised the soft, +close-bound hair to a regal crown, and put a shining star in it, and +added a string of pearls on the white throat. + +"Look at yourself now, child!" she said. + +Vivian looked, in the long depths of Mr. Dykeman's mirror. She knew +that she had beauty, but had never seen herself so brilliantly +attired. Erect, slender, graceful, the long lines of her young body +draped in soft white, and her dark head, crowned and shining, poised +on its white column, rising from the shimmering lace. Her color +deepened as she looked, and added to the picture. + +"You shall wear it to-night! You shall!" cried her admiring friend. +"To please me--if no one else!" + +Whether to please her or someone else, Vivian consented, the two +arriving rather late at the garden party across the way. + +Mr. Dykeman, looking very tall and fine in his evening clothes, was a +cordial host, ably seconded by the eager boys about him. + +The place was certainly a credit to their efforts, the bare rooms +being turned to bowers by vines and branches brought from the +mountains, and made fragrant by piled flowers. Lights glimmered +through colored shades among the leaves, and on the dining table young +Peters, who came from Connecticut, had rigged a fountain by means of +some rubber tubing and an auger hole in the floor. This he had made +before Mr. Dykeman caught him, and vowed Dr. Hale would not mind. Mr. +Peters' enjoyment of the evening, however, was a little dampened by +his knowledge of the precarious nature of this arrangement. He danced +attendance on Mrs. St. Cloud, with the others, but wore a preoccupied +expression, and stole in once or twice from the lit paths outside to +make sure that all was running well. It was well to and during supper +time, and the young man was complimented on his ingenuity. + +"Reminds me of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon," said Mr. Skee, +sentimentally. + +"Why?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew. + +"Oh, _why_, Ma'am? How can a fellow say why?" he protested. "Because +it is so--so efflorescent, I suppose." + +"Reminds me of a loose faucet," said she, _sotto voce_, to Dr. Bellair. + +Mr. Peters beamed triumphantly, but in the very hour of his glory +young Burns, hastening to get a cup of coffee for his fair one, +tripped over the concealed pipe, and the fountain poured forth its +contributions among the feet of the guests. + +This was a minor misadventure, however, hurting no one's feeling but +Mr. Peters', and Mrs. St. Cloud was so kind to him in consequence that +he was envied by all the others. + +Mr. Dykeman was attentive to his guests, old and young, but Mrs. +Pettigrew had not her usual smile for him; Miss Orella declined to +dance, alleging that she was too tired, and Dr. Bellair somewhat dryly +told him that he need not bother with her. He was hardly to be blamed +if he turned repeatedly to Mrs. St. Cloud, whose tactful sweetness was +always ready. She had her swarm of young admirers about her, yet never +failed to find a place for her host, a smile and a word of +understanding. + +Her eyes were everywhere. She watched Mr. Skee waltzing with the +youngest, providing well-chosen refreshments for Miss Orella, +gallantly escorting Grandma to see the "Lovers' Lane" they had made at +the end of the garden. Its twin lines of lights were all outside; +within was grateful shadow. + +Mrs. St. Cloud paced through this fragrant arbor with each and every one +of the receiving party, uttering ever-fresh expressions of admiration +and gratitude for their kind thoughtfulness, especially to Mr. Dykeman. + +When she saw Susie and Mr. Saunders go in at the farther end, she +constituted herself a sort of protective agency to keep every one else +out, holding them in play with various pleasant arts. + +And Vivian? When she arrived there was a little gasp from Morton, who +was waiting for her near the door. She was indeed a sight to make a +lover's heart leap. He had then, as it were, surrounded her. Vainly +did the others ask for dances. Morton had unblushingly filled out a +card with his own name and substituted it for the one she handed him. +She protested, but the music sounded and he whirled her away before +she could expostulate to any avail. + +His eyes spoke his admiration, and for once his tongue did not spoil +the impression. + +Half laughing and half serious, she let him monopolize her, but quite +drove him away when Mr. Dykeman claimed his dance. + +"All filled up!" said Morton for her, showing his card. + +"Mine was promised yesterday, was it not, Miss Lane?" said the big man, +smiling. And she went with him. He took her about the garden later, +gravely admiring and attentive, and when Susie fairly rushed into her +arms, begging her to come and talk with her, he left them both in a +small rose-crowned summer-house and went back to Mrs. St. Cloud. + +"Oh, Vivian, Vivian! What do you think!" Susie's face was buried on +Vivian's shoulder. "I'm engaged!" + +Vivian held her close and kissed her soft hair. Her joyous excitement +was contagious. + +"He's the nicest man in the world!" breathed Susie, "and he loves me!" + +"We all supposed he did. Didn't you know it before?" + +"Oh, yes, in a way; but, Vivian--he kissed me!" + +"Well, child, have you never in all your little life been kissed +before?" + +Susie lifted a rosy, tearful face for a moment. + +"Never, never, never!" she said. "I thought I had, but I haven't! Oh, +I am so happy!" + +"What's up?" inquired Morton, appearing with a pink lantern in his +hand, in impatient search for his adored one. "Susie--crying?" + +"No, I'm _not_," she said, and ran forthwith back to the house, whence +Jimmy was bringing her ice cream. + +Vivian started to follow her. + +"Oh, no, Vivian; don't go. Wait." He dropped the lantern and took her +hands. The paper cover flared up, showing her flushed cheeks and +starry eyes. He stamped out the flame, and in the sudden darkness +caught her in his arms. + +For a moment she allowed him, turning her head away. He kissed her +white shoulder. + +"No! No, Morton--don't! You mustn't!" + +She tried to withdraw herself, but he held her fast. She could feel +the pounding of his heart. + +"Oh, Vivian, don't say no! You will marry me, won't you? Some day, +when I'm more worth while. Say you will! Some day--if not now. I love +you so; I need you so! Say yes, Vivian." + +He was breathing heavily. His arms held her motionless. She still kept +her face turned from him. + +"Let me go, Morton; let me go! You hurt me!" + +"Say yes, dear, and I'll let you go--for a little while." + +"Yes," said Vivian. + +The ground jarred beside them, as a tall man jumped the hedge +boundary. He stood a moment, staring. + +"Well, is this my house, or Coney Island?" they heard him say. And +then Morton swore softly to himself as Vivian left him and came out. + +"Good evening, Dr. Hale," she said, a little breathlessly. "We weren't +expecting you so soon." + +"I should judge not," he answered. "What's up, anyhow?" + +"The boys--and Mr. Dykeman--are giving a garden party for Mrs. St. +Cloud." + +"For whom?" + +"For Adela St. Cloud. She is visiting us. Aren't you coming in?" + +"Not now," he said, and was gone without another word. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CONSEQUENCES. + + You may have a fondness for grapes that are green, + And the sourness that greenness beneath; + You may have a right + To a colic at night-- + But consider your children's teeth! + + +Dr. Hale retired from his gaily illuminated grounds in too much +displeasure to consider the question of dignity. One suddenly acting +cause was the news given him by Vivian. The other was the sight of +Morton Elder's face as he struck a match to light his cigarette. + +Thus moved, and having entered and left his own grounds like a thief +in the night, he proceeded to tramp in the high-lying outskirts of the +town until every light in his house had gone out. Then he returned, +let himself into his office, and lay there on a lounge until morning. + +Vivian had come out so quickly to greet the doctor from obscure +motives. She felt a sudden deep objection to being found there with +Morton, a wish to appear as one walking about unconcernedly, and when +that match glow made Morton's face shine out prominently in the dark +shelter, she, too, felt a sudden displeasure. + +Without a word she went swiftly to the house, excused herself to her +Grandmother, who nodded understandingly, and returned to The +Cottonwoods, to her room. She felt that she must be alone and think; +think of that irrevocable word she had uttered, and its consequences. + +She sat at her window, rather breathless, watching the rows of pink +lanterns swaying softly on the other side of the street; hearing the +lively music, seeing young couples leave the gate and stroll off +homeward. + +Susie's happiness came more vividly to mind than her own. It was so +freshly joyous, so pure, so perfectly at rest. She could not feel that +way, could not tell with decision exactly how she did feel. But if this +was happiness, it was not as she had imagined it. She thought of that +moonlit summer night so long ago, and the memory of its warm wonder +seemed sweeter than the hasty tumult and compulsion of to-night. + +She was stirred through and through by Morton's intense emotion, but +with a sort of reaction, a wish to escape. He had been so madly +anxious, he had held her so close; there seemed no other way but to +yield to him--in order to get away. + +And then Dr. Hale had jarred the whole situation. She had to be polite +to him, in his own grounds. If only Morton had kept still--that +grating match--his face, bent and puffing, Dr. Hale must have seen +him. And again she thought of little Susie with almost envy. Even +after that young lady had come in, bubbled over with confidences and +raptures, and finally dropped to sleep without Vivian's having been +able to bring herself to return the confidences, she stole back to her +window again to breathe. + +Why had Dr. Hale started so at the name of Mrs. St. Cloud? That was +puzzling her more than she cared to admit. By and by she saw his +well-known figure, tall and erect, march by on the other side and go +into the office. + +"O, well," she sighed at last, "I'm not young, like Susie. Perhaps it +_is_ like this--" + +Now Morton had been in no special need of that cigarette at that +special moment, but he did not wish to seem to hide in the dusky +arbor, nor to emerge lamely as if he had hidden. So he lit the match, +more from habit than anything else. When it was out, and the cigarette +well lighted, he heard the doctor's sudden thump on the other side of +the fence and came out to rejoin Vivian. She was not there. + +He did not see her again that night, and his meditations were such +that next day found him, as a lover, far more agreeable to Vivian than +the night before. He showed real understanding, no triumph, no airs of +possession; took no liberties, only said: "When I am good enough I +shall claim you--my darling!" and looked at her with such restrained +longing that she quite warmed to him again. + +He held to this attitude, devoted, quietly affectionate; till her +sense of rebellion passed away and her real pleasure in his +improvement reasserted itself. As they read together, if now and then +his arm stole around her waist, he always withdrew it when so +commanded. Still, one cannot put the same severity into a prohibition +too often repeated. The constant, thoughtful attention of a man +experienced in the art of pleasing women, the new and frankly +inexperienced efforts he made to meet her highest thoughts, to learn +and share her preferences, both pleased her. + +He was certainly good looking, certainly amusing, certainly had become +a better man from her companionship. She grew to feel a sort of +ownership in this newly arisen character; a sort of pride in it. Then, +she had always been fond of Morton, since the time when he was only +"Susie's big brother." That counted. + +Another thing counted, too, counted heavily, though Vivian never +dreamed of it and would have hotly repudiated the charge. She was a +woman of full marriageable age, with all the unused powers of her +woman's nature calling for expression, quite unrecognized. + +He was a man who loved her, loved her more deeply than he had ever +loved before, than he had even known he could love; who quite +recognized what called within him and meant to meet the call. And he +was near her every day. + +After that one fierce outbreak he held himself well in check. He knew +he had startled her then, almost lost her. And with every hour of +their companionship he felt more and more how much she was to him. +Other women he had pursued, overtaken, left behind. He felt that there +was something in Vivian which was beyond him, giving a stir and lift +of aspiration which he genuinely enjoyed. + +Day by day he strove to win her full approval, and day by day he did +not neglect the tiny, slow-lapping waves of little tendernesses, small +affectionate liberties at well-chosen moments, always promptly +withdrawing when forbidden, but always beginning again a little +further on. + +Dr. Bellair went to Dr. Hale's office and sat herself down solidly in +the patient's chair. + +"Dick," she said, "are you going to stand for this?" + +"Stand for what, my esteemed but cryptic fellow-practitioner?" + +She eyed his calm, reserved countenance with friendly admiration. "You +are an awfully good fellow, Dick, but dull. At the same time dull and +transparent. Are you going to sit still and let that dangerous patient +of yours marry the finest girl in town?" + +"Your admiration for girls is always stronger than mine, Jane; and I +have, if you will pardon the boast, more than one patient." + +"All right, Dick--if you want it made perfectly clear to your +understanding. Do you mean to let Morton Elder marry Vivian Lane?" + +"What business is it of mine?" he demanded, more than +brusquely--savagely. + +"You know what he's got." + +"I am a physician, not a detective. And I am not Miss Lane's father, +brother, uncle or guardian." + +"Or lover," added Dr. Bellair, eyeing him quietly. She thought she saw a +second's flicker of light in the deep gray eyes, a possible tightening +of set lips. "Suppose you are not," she said; "nor even a humanitarian. +You _are_ a member of society. Do you mean to let a man whom you know +has no right to marry, poison the life of that splendid girl?" + +He was quite silent for a moment, but she could see the hand on the +farther arm of his chair grip it till the nails were white. + +"How do you know he--wishes to marry her?" + +"If you were about like other people, you old hermit, you'd know it as +well as anybody. I think they are on the verge of an engagement, if +they aren't over it already. Once more, Dick, shall you do anything?" + +"No," said he. Then, as she did not add a word, he rose and walked up +and down the office in big strides, turning upon her at last. + +"You know how I feel about this. It is a matter of honor--professional +honor. You women don't seem to know what the word means. I've told +that good-for-nothing young wreck that he has no right to marry for +years yet, if ever. That is all I can do. I will not betray the +confidence of a patient." + +"Not if he had smallpox, or scarlet fever, or the bubonic plague? +Suppose a patient of yours had the leprosy, and wanted to marry your +sister, would you betray his confidence?" + +"I might kill my sister," he said, glaring at her. "I refuse to argue +with you." + +"Yes, I think you'd better refuse," she said, rising. "And you don't +have to kill Vivian Lane, either. A man's honor always seems to want +to kill a woman to satisfy it. I'm glad I haven't got the feeling. +Well, Dick, I thought I'd give you a chance to come to your senses, a +real good chance. But I won't leave you to the pangs of unavailing +remorse, you poor old goose. That young syphilitic is no patient of +mine." And she marched off to perform a difficult duty. + +She was very fond of Vivian. The girl's unselfish sweetness of +character and the depth of courage and power she perceived behind the +sensitive, almost timid exterior, appealed to her. If she had had a +daughter, perhaps she would have been like that. If she had had a +daughter would she not have thanked anyone who would try to save her +from such a danger? From that worse than deadly peril, because of +which she had no daughter. + +Dr. Bellair was not the only one who watched Morton's growing devotion +with keen interest. To his aunt it was a constant joy. From the time her +boisterous little nephew had come to rejoice her heart and upset her +immaculate household arrangements, and had played, pleasantly though +tyrannically, with the little girl next door, Miss Orella had dreamed +this romance for him. To have it fail was part of her grief when he left +her, to have it now so visibly coming to completion was a deep delight. + +If she had been blind to his faults, she was at least vividly +conscious of the present sudden growth of virtues. She beamed at him +with affectionate pride, and her manner to Mrs. Pettigrew was one of +barely subdued "I told you so." Indeed, she could not restrain herself +altogether, but spoke to that lady with tender triumph of how lovely +it was to have Morton so gentle and nice. + +"You never did like the boy, I know, but you must admit that he is +behaving beautifully now." + +"I will," said the old lady; "I'll admit it without reservation. He's +behaving beautifully--now. But I'm not going to talk about him--to +you, Orella." So she rolled up her knitting work and marched off. + +"Too bad she's so prejudiced and opinionated," said Miss Elder to +Susie, rather warmly. "I'm real fond of Mrs. Pettigrew, but when she +takes a dislike----" + +Susie was so happy herself that she seemed to walk in an aura of rosy +light. Her Jimmie was so evidently the incarnation of every masculine +virtue and charm that he lent a reflected lustre to other men, even to +her brother. Because of her love for Jimmie, she loved Morton +better--loved everybody better. To have her only brother marry her +dearest friend was wholly pleasant to Susie. + +It was not difficult to wring from Vivian a fair knowledge of how +things stood, for, though reserved by nature, she was utterly unused +to concealing anything, and could not tell an efficient lie if she +wanted to. + +"Are you engaged or are you not, you dear old thing?" demanded Susie. + +And Vivian admitted that there was "an understanding." But Susie +absolutely must not speak of it. + +For a wonder she did not, except to Jimmie. But people seemed to make +up their minds on the subject with miraculous agreement. The general +interest in the manifold successes of Mrs. St. Cloud gave way to this +vivid personal interest, and it was discussed from two sides among +their whole circle of acquaintance. + +One side thought that a splendid girl was being wasted, sacrificed, +thrown away, on a disagreeable, good-for-nothing fellow. The other +side thought the "interesting" Mr. Elder might have done better; they +did not know what he could see in her. + +They, that vaguely important They, before whom we so deeply bow, were +also much occupied in their mind by speculations concerning Mr. +Dykeman and two Possibilities. One quite patently possible, even +probable, giving rise to the complacent "Why, anybody could see +that!" and the other a fascinatingly impossible Possibility of a sort +which allows the even more complacent "Didn't you? Why, I could see it +from the first." + +Mr. Dykeman had been a leading citizen in that new-built town for some +ten years, which constituted him almost the Oldest Inhabitant. He was +reputed to be extremely wealthy, though he never said anything about +it, and neither his clothing nor his cigars reeked of affluence. +Perhaps nomadic chambermaids had spread knowledge of those +silver-backed appurtenances, and the long mirror. Or perhaps it was +not woman's gossip at all, but men's gossip, which has wider base, and +wider circulation, too. + +Mr. Dykeman had certainly "paid attentions" to Miss Elder. Miss Elder +had undeniably brightened and blossomed most becomingly under these +attentions. He had danced with her, he had driven with her, he had +played piquet with her when he might have played whist. To be sure, he +did these things with other ladies, and had done them for years past, +but this really looked as if there might be something in it. + +Mr. Skee, as Mr. Dykeman's oldest friend, was even questioned a little; +but it was not very much use to question Mr. Skee. His manner was not +repellant, and not in the least reserved. He poured forth floods of +information so voluminous and so varied that the recipient was rather +drowned than fed. So opinions wavered as to Mr. Dykeman's intentions. + +Then came this lady of irresistible charm, and the unmarried citizens +of the place fell at her feet as one man. Even the married ones +slanted over a little. + +Mr. Dykeman danced with her, more than he had with Miss Elder. Mr. +Dykeman drove with her, more than he had with Miss Elder. Mr. Dykeman +played piquet with her, and chess, which Miss Elder could not play. +And Miss Elder's little opening petals of ribbon and lace curled up +and withered away; while Mrs. St. Cloud's silken efflorescence, softly +waving and jewel-starred, flourished apace. + +Dr. Bellair had asked Vivian to take a walk with her; and they sat +together, resting, on a high lonely hill, a few miles out of town. + +"It's a great pleasure to see this much of you, Dr. Bellair," said the +girl, feeling really complimented. + +"I'm afraid you won't think so, my dear, when you hear what I have to +say: what I _have_ to say." + +The girl flushed a little. "Are you going to scold me about something? +Have I done anything wrong?" Her eyes smiled bravely. "Go on, Doctor. +I know it will be for my best good." + +"It will indeed, dear child," said the doctor, so earnestly that +Vivian felt a chill of apprehension. + +"I am going to talk to you 'as man to man' as the story books say; as +woman to woman. When I was your age I had been married three years." + +Vivian was silent, but stole out a soft sympathetic hand and slipped it +into the older woman's. She had heard of this early-made marriage, also +early broken; with various dark comments to which she had paid no +attention. + +Dr. Bellair was Dr. Bellair, and she had a reverential affection for +her. + +There was a little silence. The Doctor evidently found it hard to +begin. "You love children, don't you, Vivian?" + +The girl's eyes kindled, and a heavenly smile broke over her face. +"Better than anything in the world," she said. + +"Ever think about them?" asked her friend, her own face whitening as she +spoke. "Think about their lovely little soft helplessness--when you hold +them in your arms and have to do _everything_ for them. Have to go and +turn them over--see that the little ear isn't crumpled--that the covers +are all right. Can't you see 'em, upside down on the bath apron, +grabbing at things, perfectly happy, but prepared to howl when it comes +to dressing? And when they are big enough to love you! Little soft arms +that will hardly go round your neck. Little soft cheeks against yours, +little soft mouths and little soft kisses,--ever think of them?" + +The girl's eyes were like stars. She was looking into the future; her +breath came quickly; she sat quite still. + +The doctor swallowed hard, and went on. "We mostly don't go much +farther than that at first. It's just the babies we want. But you can +look farther--can follow up, year by year, the lovely changing growing +bodies and minds, the confidence and love between you, the pride you +have as health is established, strength and skill developed, and +character unfolds and deepens. + +"Then when they are grown, and sort of catch up, and you have those +splendid young lives about you, intimate strong friends and tender +lovers. And you feel as though you had indeed done something for the +world." + +She stopped, saying no more for a little, watching the girl's awed +shining face. Suddenly that face was turned to her, full of exquisite +sympathy, the dark eyes swimming with sudden tears; and two soft eager +arms held her close. + +"Oh, Doctor! To care like that and not--!" + +"Yes, my dear;" said the doctor, quietly. "And not have any. Not be +able to have any--ever." + +Vivian caught her breath with pitying intensity, but her friend went +on. + +"Never be able to have a child, because I married a man who had +gonorrhea. In place of happy love, lonely pain. In place of +motherhood, disease. Misery and shame, child. Medicine and surgery, +and never any possibility of any child for me." + +The girl was pale with horror. "I--I didn't know--" She tried to say +something, but the doctor burst out impatiently: + +"No! You don't know. I didn't know. Girls aren't taught a word of +what's before them till it's too late--not _then_, sometimes! Women +lose every joy in life, every hope, every capacity for service or +pleasure. They go down to their graves without anyone's telling them +the cause of it all." + +"That was why you--left him?" asked Vivian presently. + +"Yes, I left him. When I found I could not be a mother I determined to +be a doctor, and save other women, if I could." She said this with +such slow, grave emphasis that Vivian turned a sudden startled face to +her, and went white to the lips. + +"I may be wrong," the doctor said, "you have not given me your +confidence in this matter. But it is better, a thousand times better, +that I should make this mistake than for you to make that. You must +not marry Morton Elder." + +Vivian did not admit nor deny. She still wore that look of horror. + +"You think he has--That?" + +"I do not know whether he has gonorrhea or not; it takes a long +microscopic analysis to be sure; but there is every practical +assurance that he's had it, and I know he's had syphilis." + +If Vivian could have turned paler she would have, then. + +"I've heard of--that," she said, shuddering. + +"Yes, the other is newer to our knowledge, far commoner, and really +more dangerous. They are two of the most terrible diseases known to +us; highly contagious, and in the case of syphilis, hereditary. Nearly +three-quarters of the men have one or the other, or both." + +But Vivian was not listening. Her face was buried in her hands. She +crouched low in agonized weeping. + +"Oh, come, come, my dear. Don't take it so hard. There's no harm done +you see, it's not too late." + +"Oh, it _is_ too late! It is!" wailed the girl. "I have promised to +marry him." + +"I don't care if you were at the altar, child; you _haven't_ married +him, and you mustn't." + +"I have given my word!" said the girl dully. She was thinking of +Morton now. Of his handsome face, with it's new expression of +respectful tenderness; of all the hopes they had built together; of +his life, so dependent upon hers for its higher interests. + +She turned to the doctor, her lips quivering. "He _loves_ me!" she +said. "I--we--he says I am all that holds him up, that helps him to +make a newer better life. And he has changed so--I can see it! He says +he has loved me, really, since he was seventeen!" + +The older sterner face did not relax. + +"He told me he had--done wrong. He was honest about it. He said he +wasn't--worthy." + +"He isn't," said Dr. Bellair. + +"But surely I owe some duty to him. He depends on me. And I have +promised--" + +The doctor grew grimmer. "Marriage is for motherhood," she said. "That +is its initial purpose. I suppose you might deliberately forego +motherhood, and undertake a sort of missionary relation to a man, but +that is not marriage." + +"He loves me," said the girl with gentle stubbornness. She saw Morton's +eyes, as she had so often seen them lately; full of adoration and manly +patience. She felt his hand, as she had felt it so often lately, holding +hers, stealing about her waist, sometimes bringing her fingers to his +lips for a strong slow kiss which she could not forget for hours. + +She raised her head. A new wave of feeling swept over her. She saw a +vista of self-sacrificing devotion, foregoing much, forgiving much, +but rejoicing in the companionship of a noble life, a soul rebuilt, a +love that was passionately grateful. Her eyes met those of her friend +fairly. "And I love him!" she said. + +"Will you tell that to your crippled children?" asked Dr. Bellair. +"Will they understand it if they are idiots? Will they see it if they +are blind? Will it satisfy you when they are dead?" + +The girl shrank before her. + +"You _shall_ understand," said the doctor. "This is no case for +idealism and exalted emotion. Do you want a son like Theophile?" + +"I thought you said--they didn't have any." + +"Some don't--that is one result. Another result--of gonorrhea--is to +have children born blind. Their eyes may be saved, with care. But it +is not a motherly gift for one's babies--blindness. You may have years +and years of suffering yourself--any or all of those diseases +'peculiar to women' as we used to call them! And we pitied the men who +'were so good to their invalid wives'! You may have any number of +still-born children, year after year. And every little marred dead +face would remind you that you allowed it! And they may be deformed +and twisted, have all manner of terrible and loathsome afflictions, +they and their children after them, if they have any. And many do! +dear girl, don't you see that's wicked?" + +Vivian was silent, her two hands wrung together; her whole form +shivering with emotion. + +"Don't think that you are 'ruining his life,'" said the doctor kindly. +"He ruined it long ago--poor boy!" + +The girl turned quickly at the note of sympathy. + +"They don't know either," her friend went on. "What could Miss Orella +do, poor little saint, to protect a lively young fellow like that! All +they have in their scatter-brained heads is 'it's naughty but it's +nice!' And so they rush off and ruin their whole lives--and their +wives'--and their children's. A man don't have to be so very wicked, +either, understand. Just one mis-step may be enough for infection." + +"Even if it did break his heart, and yours--even if you both lived +single, he because it is the only decent thing he can do now, you +because of a misguided sense of devotion; that would be better than to +commit this plain sin. Beware of a biological sin, my dear; for it +there is no forgiveness." + +She waited a moment and went on, as firmly and steadily as she would +have held the walls of a wound while she placed the stitches. + +"If you two love each other so nobly and devotedly that it is higher +and truer and more lasting than the ordinary love of men and women, +you might be 'true' to one another for a lifetime, you see. And all +that friendship can do, exalted influence, noble inspiration--that is +open to you." + +Vivian's eyes were wide and shining. She saw a possible future, not +wholly unbearable. + +"Has he kissed you yet?" asked the doctor suddenly. + +"No," she said. "That is--except----" + +"Don't let him. You might catch it. Your friendship must be distant. +Well, shall we be going back? I'm sorry, my dear. I did hate awfully +to do it. But I hated worse to see you go down those awful steps from +which there is no returning." + +"Yes," said Vivian. "Thank you. Won't you go on, please? I'll come +later." + +An hour the girl sat there, with the clear blue sky above her, the +soft steady wind rustling the leaves, the little birds that hopped and +pecked and flirted their tails so near her motionless figure. + +She thought and thought, and through all the tumult of ideas it grew +clearer to her that the doctor was right. She might sacrifice herself. +She had no right to sacrifice her children. + +A feeling of unreasoning horror at this sudden outlook into a field of +unknown evil was met by her clear perception that if she was old +enough to marry, to be a mother, she was surely old enough to know +these things; and not only so, but ought to know them. + +Shy, sensitive, delicate in feeling as the girl was, she had a fair +and reasoning mind. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +DETERMINATION. + + You may shut your eyes with a bandage, + The while world vanishes soon; + You may open your eyes at a knothole + And see the sun and moon. + + +It must have grieved anyone who cared for Andrew Dykeman, to see Mrs. +St. Cloud's manner toward him change with his changed circumstances--she +had been so much with him, had been so kind to him; kinder than Carston +comment "knew for a fact," but not kinder than it surmised. + +Then, though his dress remained as quietly correct, his face assumed a +worn and anxious look, and he no longer offered her long auto rides or +other expensive entertainment. She saw men on the piazza stop talking +as he came by, and shake their heads as they looked after him; but no +one would tell her anything definite till she questioned Mr. Skee. + +"I am worried about Mr. Dykeman," she said to this ever-willing +confidant, beckoning him to a chair beside her. + +A chair, to the mind of Mr. Skee, seemed to be for pictorial uses, +only valuable as part of the composition. He liked one to stand +beside, to put a foot on, to lean over from behind, arms on the back; +to tip up in front of him as if he needed a barricade; and when he was +persuaded to sit in one, it was either facing the back, cross-saddle +and bent forward, or--and this was the utmost decorum he was able to +approach--tipped backward against the wall. + +"He does not look well," said the lady, "you are old friends--do tell +me; if it is anything wherein a woman's sympathy would be of service?" + +"I'm afraid not, Ma'am," replied Mr. Skee darkly. "Andy's hard hit in +a worse place than his heart. I wouldn't betray a friend's confidence +for any money, Ma'am; but this is all over town. It'll go hard with +Andy, I'm afraid, at his age." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she whispered. "So sorry! But surely with a man of +his abilities it will be only a temporary reverse!--" + +"Dunno 'bout the abilities--not in this case. Unless he has ability +enough to discover a mine bigger'n the one he's lost! You see, Ma'am, +it's this way," and he sunk his voice to a confidential rumble. "Andy +had a bang-up mine, galena ore--not gold, you understand, but often +pays better. And he kept on putting the money it made back into it to +make more. Then, all of a sudden, it petered out! No more eggs in that +basket. 'Course he can't sell it--now. And last year he refused half a +million. Andy's sure down on his luck." + +"But he will recover! You western men are so wonderful! He will find +another mine!" + +"O yes, he _may_! Certainly he _may_, Ma'am. Not that he found this +one--he just bought it." + +"Well--he can buy another, there are more, aren't there?" + +"Sure there are! There's as good mines in the earth as ever was +salted--that's my motto! But Andy's got no more money to buy any +mines. What he had before he inherited. No, Ma'am," said Mr. Skee, +with a sigh. "I'm afraid its all up with Andy Dykeman financially!" + +This he said more audibly; and Miss Elder and Miss Pettigrew, sitting in +their parlor, could not help hearing. Miss Elder gave a little gasp and +clasped her hands tightly, but Miss Pettigrew arose, and came outside. + +"What's this about Mr. Dykeman?" she questioned abruptly. "Has he had +losses?" + +"There now," said Mr. Skee, remorsefully, "I never meant to give him +away like that. Mrs. Pettigrew, Ma'am, I must beg you not to mention it +further. I was only satisfyin' this lady here, in answer to sympathetic +anxiety, as to what was making Andrew H. Dykeman so down in the mouth. +Yes'm--he's lost every cent he had in the world, or is likely to have. +Of course, among friends, he'll get a job fast enough, bookkeepin', or +something like that--though he's not a brilliant man, Andy isn't. You +needn't to feel worried, Mrs. Pettigrew; he'll draw a salary all right, +to the end of time; but he's out of the game of Hot Finance." + +Mrs. Pettigrew regarded the speaker with a scintillating eye. He +returned her look with unflinching seriousness. "Have a chair, Ma'am," +he said. "Let me bring out your rocker. Sit down and chat with us." + +"No, thanks," said the old lady. "It seems to me a little--chilly, out +here. I'll go in." + +She went in forthwith, to find Miss Orella furtively wiping her eyes. + +"What are you crying about, Orella Elder! Just because a man's lost +his money? That happens to most of 'em now and then." + +"Yes, I know--but you heard what he said. Oh, I can't believe it! To +think of his having to be provided for by his friends--and having to +take a small salary--after being so well off! I am so sorry for him!" + +Miss Elder's sorrow was increased to intensity by noting Mrs. St. +Cloud's changed attitude. Mr. Dykeman made no complaint, uttered no +protest, gave no confidences; but it soon appeared that he was working +in an office; and furthermore that this position was given him by Mr. +Skee. + +That gentleman, though discreetly reticent as to his own affairs, now +appeared in far finer raiment than he had hitherto affected; developed +a pronounced taste in fobs and sleeve buttons; and a striking harmony +in socks and scarfs. + +Men talked openly of him; no one seemed to know anything definite, but +all were certain that "Old Skee must have struck it rich." + +Mr. Skee kept his own counsel; but became munificent in gifts and +entertainments. He produced two imposing presents for Susie; one a +"betrothal gift," the other a conventional wedding present. + +"This is a new one to me," he said when he offered her the first; "but +I understand it's the thing. In fact I'm sure of it--for I've +consulted Mrs. St. Cloud and she helped me to buy 'em." + +He consulted Mrs. St. Cloud about a dinner he proposed giving to Mr. +Saunders--"one of these Farewell to Egypt affairs," he said. "Not that +I imagine Jim Saunders ever was much of a--Egyptian--but then----!" + +He consulted her also about Vivian--did she not think the girl looked +worn and ill? Wouldn't it be a good thing to send her off for a trip +somewhere? + +He consulted her about a library; said he had always wanted a library +of his own, but the public ones were somewhat in his way. How many +books did she think a man ought really to own--to spend his declining +years among. Also, and at considerable length he consulted her about +the best possible place of residence. + +"I'm getting to be an old man, Mrs. St. Cloud," he remarked +meditatively; "and I'm thinking of buying and building somewhere. But +it's a ticklish job. Lo! these many years I've been perfectly contented +to live wherever I was at; and now that I'm considering a real +Home--blamed if I know where to put it! I'm distracted between A Model +Farm, and A Metropolitan Residence. Which would you recommend, Ma'am?" + +The lady's sympathy and interest warmed to Mr. Skee as they cooled to +Mr. Dykeman, not with any blameworthy or noticeable suddenness, but in +soft graduations, steady and continuous. The one wore his new glories +with an air of modest pride; making no boast of affluence; and the +other accepted that which had befallen him without rebellion. + +Miss Orella's tender heart was deeply touched. As fast as Mrs. St. +Cloud gave the cold shoulder to her friend, she extended a warm hand; +when they chatted about Mr. Skee's visible success, she spoke bravely +of the beauty of limited means; and when it was time to present her +weekly bills to the boarders, she left none in Mr. Dykeman's room. +This he took for an oversight at first; but when he found the omission +repeated on the following week, he stood by his window smiling +thoughtfully for some time, and then went in search of Miss Orella. + +She sat by her shaded lamp, alone, knitting a silk tie which was +promptly hidden as he entered. He stood by the door looking at her in +spite of her urging him to be seated, observing the warm color in her +face, the graceful lines of her figure, the gentle smile that was so +unfailingly attractive. Then he came forward, calmly inquiring, "Why +haven't you sent me my board bill?" + +She lifted her eyes to his, and dropped them, flushing. "I--excuse me; +but I thought----" + +"You thought I couldn't conveniently pay it?" + +"O please excuse me! I didn't mean to be--to do anything you wouldn't +like. But I did hear that you were--temporarily embarrassed. And I +want you to feel sure, Mr. Dykeman, that to your real friends it makes +no difference in the _least_. And if--for a while that is--it should +be a little more convenient to--to defer payment, please feel +perfectly at liberty to wait!" + +She stood there blushing like a girl, her sweet eyes wet with shining +tears that did not fall, full of tender sympathy for his misfortune. + +"Have you heard that I've lost all my money?" he asked. + +She nodded softly. + +"And that I can't ever get it back--shall have to do clerk's work at a +clerk's salary--as long as I live?" + +Again she nodded. + +He took a step or two back and forth in the quiet parlor, and returned +to her. + +"Would you marry a poor man?" he asked in a low tender voice. "Would you +marry a man not young, not clever, not rich, but who loved you dearly? +You are the sweetest woman I ever saw, Orella Elder--will you marry me?" + +She came to him, and he drew her close with a long sigh of utter +satisfaction. "Now I am rich indeed," he said softly. + +She held him off a little. "Don't talk about being rich. It doesn't +matter. If you like to live here--why this house will keep us both. If +you'd rather have a little one--I can live _so_ happily--on _so_ +little! And there is my own little home in Bainville--perhaps you +could find something to do there. I don't care the least in the +world--so long as you love me!" + +"I've loved you since I first set eyes on you," he answered her. "To +see the home you've made here for all of us was enough to make any man +love you. But I thought awhile back that I hadn't any chance--you +weren't jealous of that Artificial Fairy, were you?" + +And conscientiously Miss Orella lied. + +Carston society was pleased, but not surprised at Susie's engagement; it +was both pleased and surprised when Miss Elder's was announced. Some +there were who protested that they had seen it from the beginning; but +disputatious friends taxed them with having prophesied quite otherwise. + +Some thought Miss Elder foolish to take up with a man of full middle +age, and with no prospects; and others attributed the foolishness to +Mr. Dykeman, in marrying an old maid. Others again darkly hinted that +he knew which side his bread was buttered--"and first-rate butter, +too." Adding that they "did hate to see a man sit around and let his +wife keep boarders!" + +In Bainville circles the event created high commotion. That one of their +accumulated maidens, part of the Virgin Sacrifice of New England, which +finds not even a Minotaur--had thus triumphantly escaped from their +ranks and achieved a husband; this was flatly heretical. The fact that +he was a poor man was the only mitigating circumstance, leaving it open +to the more captious to criticize the lady sharply. + +But the calm contentment of Andrew Dykeman's face, and the decorous +bliss of Miss Elder's were untroubled by what anyone thought or said. + +Little Susie was delighted, and teased for a double wedding; without +success. "One was enough to attend to, at one time," her aunt replied. + + * * * * * + +In all this atmosphere of wooings and weddings, Vivian walked apart, +as one in a bad dream that could never end. That day when Dr. Bellair +left her on the hill, left her alone in a strange new horrible world, +was still glaring across her consciousness, the end of one life, the +bar to any other. Its small events were as clear to her as those which +stand out so painfully on a day of death; all that led up to the +pleasant walk, when an eager girl mounted the breezy height, and a +sad-faced woman came down from it. + +She had waited long and came home slowly, dreading to see a face she +knew, dreading worst of all to see Morton. The boy she had known so +long, the man she was beginning to know, had changed to an +unbelievable horror; and the love which had so lately seemed real to +her recoiled upon her heart with a sense of hopeless shame. + +She wished--eagerly, desperately, she wished--she need never see him +again. She thought of the man's resource of running away--if she could +just _go_, go at once, and write to him from somewhere. + +Distant Bainville seemed like a haven of safety; even the decorous, +narrow, monotony of its dim life had a new attraction. These terrors +were not in Bainville, surely. Then the sickening thought crept in that +perhaps they were--only they did not know it. Besides, she had no money +to go with. If only she had started that little school sooner! Write to +her father for money she would not. No, she must bear it here. + +The world was discolored in the girl's eyes. Love had become a horror +and marriage impossible. She pushed the idea from her, impotently, as +one might push at a lava flow. + +In her wide reading she had learned in a vague way of "evil"--a +distant undescribed evil which was in the world, and which must be +avoided. She had known that there was such a thing as "sin," and +abhorred the very thought of it. + +Morton's penitential confessions had given no details; she had +pictured him only as being "led astray," as being "fast," even perhaps +"wicked." Wickedness could be forgiven; and she had forgiven him, +royally. But wickedness was one thing, disease was another. +Forgiveness was no cure. + +The burden of new knowledge so distressed her that she avoided the +family entirely that evening, avoided Susie, went to her grandmother +and asked if she might come and sleep on the lounge in her room. + +"Surely, my child, glad to have you," said Mrs. Pettigrew +affectionately. "Better try my bed--there's room a-plenty." + +The girl lay long with those old arms about her, crying quietly. Her +grandmother asked no questions, only patted her softly from time to +time, and said, "There! There!" in a pleasantly soothing manner. +After some time she remarked, "If you want to say things, my dear, +say 'em--anything you please." + +In the still darkness they talked long and intimately; and the wise +old head straightened things out somewhat for the younger one. + +"Doctors don't realize how people feel about these matters," said Mrs. +Pettigrew. "They are so used to all kinds of ghastly things they forget +that other folks can't stand 'em. She was too hard on you, dearie." + +But Vivian defended the doctor. "Oh, no, Grandma. She did +it beautifully. And it hurt her so. She told me about her +own--disappointment." + +"Yes, I remember her as a girl, you see. A fine sweet girl she was +too. It was an awful blow--and she took it hard. It has made her +bitter, I think, perhaps; that and the number of similar cases she had +to cope with." + +"But, Grandma--is it--_can_ it be as bad as she said? Seventy-five per +cent! Three-quarters of--of everybody!" + +"Not everybody dear, thank goodness. Our girls are mostly clean, and +they save the race, I guess." + +"I don't even want to _see_ a man again!" said the girl with low +intensity. + +"Shouldn't think you would, at first. But, dear child--just brace +yourself and look it fair in the face! The world's no worse than it +was yesterday--just because you know more about it!" + +"No," Vivian admitted, "But it's like uncovering a charnel house!" she +shuddered. + +"Never saw a charnel house myself," said the old lady, "even with the +lid on. But now see here child; you mustn't feel as if all men were +Unspeakable Villains. They are just ignorant boys--and nobody ever +tells 'em the truth. Nobody used to know it, for that matter. All this +about gonorrhea is quite newly discovered--it has set the doctors all +by the ears. Having women doctors has made a difference too--lots of +difference." + +"Besides," she went on after a pause, "things are changing very fast +now, since the general airing began. Dr. Prince Morrow in New York, +with that society of his--(I can never remember the name--makes me +think of tooth brushes) has done much; and the popular magazines have +taken it up. You must have seen some of those articles, Vivian." + +"I have," the girl said, "but I couldn't bear to read them--ever." + +"That's it!" responded her grandmother, tartly; "we bring up girls to +think it is not proper to know anything about the worst danger before +them. Proper!--Why my dear child, the young girls are precisely the ones +_to_ know! it's no use to tell a woman who has buried all her +children--or wishes she had!--that it was all owing to her ignorance, +and her husband's. You have to know beforehand if it's to do you any +good." + +After awhile she continued: "Women are waking up to this all over the +country, now. Nice women, old and young. The women's clubs and +congresses are taking it up, as they should. Some states have passed +laws requiring a medical certificate--a clean bill of health--to go +with a license to marry. You can see that's reasonable! A man has to +be examined to enter the army or navy, even to get his life insured; +Marriage and Parentage are more important than those things! And we +are beginning to teach children and young people what they ought to +know. There's hope for us!" + +"But Grandma--it's so awful--about the children." + +"Yes dear, yes. It's pretty awful. But don't feel as if we were all on +the brink of perdition. Remember that we've got a whole quarter of the +men to bank on. That's a good many, in this country. We're not so bad +as Europe--not yet--in this line. Then just think of this, child. We +have lived, and done splendid things all these years, even with this +load of disease on us. Think what we can do when we're rid of it! And +that's in the hands of woman, my dear--as soon as we know enough. +Don't be afraid of knowledge. When we all know about this we can stop +it! Think of that. We can religiously rid the world of all +these--'undesirable citizens.'" + +"How, Grandma?" + +"Easy enough, my dear. By not marrying them." + +There was a lasting silence. + +Grandma finally went to sleep, making a little soft whistling sound +through her parted lips; but Vivian lay awake for long slow hours. + + * * * * * + +It was one thing to make up her own mind, though not an easy one, by +any means; it was quite another to tell Morton. + +He gave her no good opportunity. He did not say again, "Will you marry +me?" So that she could say, "No," and be done with it. He did not even +say, "When will you marry me?" to which she could answer "Never!" He +merely took it for granted that she was going to, and continued to +monopolize her as far as possible, with all pleasant and comfortable +attentions. + +She forced the situation even more sharply than she wished, by turning +from him with a shiver when he met her on the stairs one night and +leaned forward as if to kiss her. + +He stopped short. + +"What is the matter, Vivian--are you ill?" + +"No--" She could say nothing further, but tried to pass him. + +"Look here--there _is_ something. You've been--different--for several +days. Have I done anything you don't like?" + +"Oh, Morton!" His question was so exactly to the point; and so +exquisitely inadequate! He had indeed. + +"I care too much for you to let anything stand between us now," he +went on. + +"Come, there's no one in the upper hall--come and 'tell me the +worst.'" + +"As well now as ever." thought the girl. Yet when they sat on the long +window seat, and he turned his handsome face toward her, with that +newer, better look on it, she could not believe that this awful thing +was true. + +"Now then--What is wrong between us?" he said. + +She answered only, "I will tell you the worst, Morton. I cannot marry +you--ever." + +He whitened to the lips, but asked quietly, "Why?" + +"Because you have--Oh, I _cannot_ tell you!" + +"I have a right to know, Vivian. You have made a man of me. I love you +with my whole heart. What have I done--that I have not told you?" + +Then she recalled his contrite confessions; and contrasted what he had +told her with what he had not; with the unspeakable fate to which he +would have consigned her--and those to come; and a sort of holy rage +rose within her. + +"You never told me of the state of your health, Morton." + +It was done. She looked to see him fall at her feet in utter +abashment, but he did nothing of the kind. What he did do astonished +her beyond measure. He rose to his feet, with clenched fists. + +"Has that damned doctor been giving me away?" he demanded. "Because if +he has I'll kill him!" + +"He has not," said Vivian. "Not by the faintest hint, ever. And is +_that_ all you think of?-- + +"Good-bye." + +She rose to leave him, sick at heart. + +Then he seemed to realize that she was going; that she meant it. + +"Surely, surely!" he cried, "you won't throw me over now! Oh, Vivian! +I told you I had been wild--that I wasn't fit to touch your little +slippers! And I wasn't going to ask you to marry me till I felt sure +this was all done with. All the rest of my life was yours, darling--is +yours. You have made me over--surely you won't leave me now!" + +"I must," she said. + +He looked at her despairingly. If he lost her he lost not only a +woman, but the hope of a life. Things he had never thought about +before had now grown dear to him; a home, a family, an honorable place +in the world, long years of quiet happiness. + +"I can't lose you!" he said. "I _can't_!" + +She did not answer, only sat there with a white set face and her hands +tight clenched in her lap. + +"Where'd you get this idea anyhow?" he burst out again. "I believe +it's that woman doctor! What does she know!" + +"Look here, Morton," said Vivian firmly. "It is not a question of who +told me. The important thing is that it's--true! And I cannot marry +you." + +"But Vivian--" he pleaded, trying to restrain the intensity of his +feeling; "men get over these things. They do, really. It's not so +awful as you seem to think. It's very common. And I'm nearly well. I +was going to wait a year or two yet--to make sure--. Vivian! I'd cut +my hand off before I'd hurt you!" + +There was real agony in his voice, and her heart smote her; but there +was something besides her heart ruling the girl now. + +"I am sorry--I'm very sorry," she said dully. "But I will not marry +you." + +"You'll throw me over--just for that! Oh, Vivian don't--you can't. I'm +no worse than other men. It seems so terrible to you just because +you're so pure and white. It's only what they call--wild oats, you +know. Most men do it." + +She shook her head. + +"And will you punish me--so cruelly--for that? I can't live without +you, Vivian--I won't!" + +"It is not a question of punishing you, Morton," she said gently. "Nor +myself. It is not the sin I am considering. It is the consequences!" + +He felt a something high and implacable in the gentle girl; something +he had never found in her before. He looked at her with despairing +eyes. Her white grace, her stately little ways, her delicate beauty, +had never seemed so desirable. + +"Good God, Vivian. You can't mean it. Give me time. Wait for me. I'll +be straight all the rest of my life--I mean it. I'll be true to you, +absolutely. I'll do anything you say--only don't give me up!" + +She felt old, hundreds of years old, and as remote as far mountains. + +"It isn't anything you can do--in the rest of your life, my poor boy! +It is what you have done--in the first of it!... Oh, Morton! It isn't +right to let us grow up without knowing! You never would have done it +_if_ you'd known--would you? Can't you--can't we--do something +to--stop this awfulness?" + +Her tender heart suffered in the pain she was inflicting, suffered too +in her own loss; for as she faced the thought of final separation she +found that her grief ran back into the far-off years of childhood. But +she had made up her mind with a finality only the more absolute +because it hurt her. Even what he said of possible recovery did not +move her--the very thought of marriage had become impossible. + +"I shall never marry," she added, with a shiver; thinking that he +might derive some comfort from the thought; but he replied with a +bitter derisive little laugh. He did not rise to her appeal to "help +the others." So far in life the happiness of Morton Elder had been his +one engrossing care; and now the unhappiness of Morton Elder assumed +even larger proportions. + +That bright and hallowed future to which he had been looking forward +so earnestly had been suddenly withdrawn from him; his good +resolutions, his "living straight" for the present, were wasted. + +"You women that are so superior," he said, "that'll turn a man down +for things that are over and done with--that he's sorry for and +ashamed of--do you know what you drive a man to! What do you think's +going to become of me if you throw me over!" + +He reached out his hands to her in real agony. "Vivian! I love you! I +can't live without you! I can't be good without you! And you love me a +little--don't you?" + +She did. She could not deny it. She loved to shut her eyes to the +future, to forgive the past, to come to those outstretched arms and +bury everything beneath that one overwhelming phrase--"I love you!" + +But she heard again Dr. Bellair's clear low accusing voice--"Will you +tell that to your crippled children?" + +She rose to her feet. "I cannot help it, Morton. I am sorry--you will +not believe how sorry I am! But I will never marry you." + +A look of swift despair swept over his face. It seemed to darken +visibly as she watched. An expression of bitter hatred came upon him; +of utter recklessness. + +All that the last few months had seemed to bring of higher better +feeling fell from him; and even as she pitied him she thought with a +flicker of fear of how this might have happened--after marriage. + +"Oh, well!" he said, rising to his feet. "I wish you could have made +up your mind sooner, that's all. I'll take myself off now." + +She reached out her hands to him. + +"Morton! Please!--don't go away feeling so hardly! I am--fond of +you--I always was.--Won't you let me help you--to bear it--! Can't we +be--friends?" + +Again he laughed that bitter little laugh. "No, Miss Lane," he said. "We +distinctly cannot. This is good-bye--You won't change your mind--again?" + +She shook her head in silence, and he left her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THEREAFTER. + + If I do right, though heavens fall, + And end all light and laughter; + Though black the night and ages long, + Bitter the cold--the tempest strong-- + If I do right, and brave it all-- + The sun shall rise thereafter! + + +The inaccessibility of Dr. Hale gave him, in the eye of Mrs. St. +Cloud, all the attractiveness of an unscaled peak to the true mountain +climber. Here was a man, an unattached man, living next door to her, +whom she had not even seen. Her pursuance of what Mr. Skee announced +to his friends to be "one of these Platonic Friendships," did not +falter; neither did her interest in other relations less philosophic. +Mr. Dykeman's precipitate descent from the class of eligibles was more +of a disappointment to her than she would admit even to herself; his +firm, kind friendliness had given a sense of comfort, of achieved +content that her restless spirit missed. + +But Dr. Hale, if he had been before inaccessible, had now become so +heavily fortified, so empanoplied in armor offensive and defensive, +that even Mrs. Pettigrew found it difficult to obtain speech with him. + +That his best friend, so long supporting him in cheerful bachelorhood, +should have thus late laid down his arms, was bitterly resented. That +Mr. Skee, free lance of years standing, and risen victor from several +"stricken fields," should show signs of capitulation, annoyed him +further. Whether these feelings derived their intensity from another, +which he entirely refused to acknowledge, is matter for the +psychologist, and Dr. Hale avoided all psychologic self-examination. + +With the boys he was always a hero. They admired his quiet strength +and the unbroken good nature that was always presented to those about +him, whatever his inner feelings. + +Mr. Peters burst forth to the others one day, in tones of impassioned +admiration. + +"By George, fellows," he said, "you know how nice Doc was last night?" + +"Never saw him when he wasn't," said Archie. + +"Don't interrupt Mr. Peters," drawled Percy. "He's on the brink of a +scientific discovery. Strange how these secrets of nature can lie +unrevealed about us so long--and then suddenly burst upon our ken!" + +Mr. Peters grinned affably. "That's all right, but I maintain my +assertion; whatever the general attraction of our noble host, you'll +admit that on the special occasion of yesterday evening, which we +celebrated to a late hour by innocent games of cards--he was--as +usual--the soul of--of----" + +"Affability?" suggested Percy. + +"Precisely!" Peters admitted. "If there is a well-chosen word which +perfectly describes the manner of Dr. Richard Hale--it is affable! +Thank you, sir, thank you. Well, what I wish to announce, so that you +can all of you get down on your knees at once and worship, is that all +last evening he--had a toothache--a bad toothache!" + +"My word!" said Archie, and remained silent. + +"Oh, come now," Percy protested, "that's against nature. Have a +toothache and not _mention_ it? Not even mention it--without +exaggeration! Why Archimedes couldn't do that! Or--Sandalphon--or any +of them!" + +"How'd you learn the facts, my son? Tell us that." + +"Heard him on the 'phone making an appointment. 'Yes;' 'since noon +yesterday,' 'yes, pretty severe.' '11:30? You can't make it earlier? +All right.' I'm just mentioning it to convince you fellows that you +don't appreciate your opportunities. There was some exceptional Female +once--they said 'to know her was a liberal education.' What would you +call it to live with Dr. Hale?" + +And they called it every fine thing they could think of; for these +boys knew better than anyone else, the effect of that association. + +His patients knew him as wise, gentle, efficient, bringing a sense of +hope and assurance by the mere touch of that strong hand; his +professional associates in the town knew him as a good practitioner +and friend, and wider medical circles, readers of his articles in the +professional press had an even higher opinion of his powers. + +Yet none of these knew Richard Hale. None saw him sitting late in his +office, the pages of his book unturned, his eyes on the red spaces of +the fire. No one was with him on those night tramps that left but an +hour or two of sleep to the long night, and made that sleep irresistible +from self-enforced fatigue. He had left the associations of his youth +and deliberately selected this far-off mountain town to build the life +he chose; and if he found it unsatisfying no one was the wiser. + +His successive relays of boys, young fellows fresh from the East, coming +from year to year and going from year to year as business called them, +could and did give good testimony as to the home side of his character, +however. It was not in nature that they should speculate about him. As +they fell in love and out again with the facility of so many Romeos, +they discoursed among themselves as to his misogyny. + +"He certainly has a grouch on women," they would admit. "That's the +one thing you can't talk to him about--shuts up like a clam. Of +course, he'll let you talk about your own feelings and experiences, +but you might as well talk to the side of a hill. I wonder what did +happen to him?" + +They made no inquiry, however. It was reported that a minister's wife, +a person of determined character, had had the courage of her +inquisitiveness, and asked him once, "Why is it that you have never +married, Dr. Hale?" And that he had replied, "It is owing to my +dislike of the meddlesomeness of women." He lived his own life, +unquestioned, now more markedly withdrawn than ever, coming no more to +The Cottonwoods. + +Even when Morton Elder left, suddenly and without warning, to the +great grief of his aunt and astonishment of his sister, their medical +neighbor still "sulked in his tent"--or at least in his office. + +Morton's departure had but one explanation; it must be that Vivian had +refused him, and she did not deny it. + +"But why, Vivian, why? He has improved so--it was just getting lovely +to see how nice he was getting. And we all thought you were so happy." +Thus the perplexed Susie. And Vivian found herself utterly unable to +explain to that happy little heart, on the brink of marriage, why she +had refused her brother. + +Miss Orella was even harder to satisfy. "It's not as if you were a +foolish changeable young girl, my dear. And you've known Morton all +your life--he was no stranger to you. It breaks my heart, Vivian. +Can't you reconsider?" + +The girl shook her head. + +"I'm awfully sorry, Miss Orella. Please believe that I did it for the +best--and that it was very hard for me, too." + +"But, Vivian! What can be the reason? I don't think you understand +what a beautiful influence you have on the boy. He has improved so, +since he has been here. And he was going to get a position here in +town--he told me so himself--and really settle down. And now he's +_gone_. Just off and away, as he used to be--and I never shall feel +easy about him again." + +Miss Orella was frankly crying; and it wrung the girl's heart to know +the pain she was causing; not only to Morton, and to herself, but to +these others. + +Susie criticised her with frankness. + +"I know you think you are right, Vivian, you always do--you and that +conscience of yours. But I really think you had gone too far to draw +back, Jimmie saw him that night he went away--and he said he looked +awfully. And he really was changed so--beginning to be so thoroughly +nice. Whatever was the matter? I think you ought to tell me, Vivian, +I'm his sister, and--being engaged and all--perhaps I could straighten +it out." + +And she was as nearly angry as her sunny nature allowed, when her +friend refused to give any reason, beyond that she thought it right. + +Her aunt did not criticise, but pleaded. "It's not too late, I'm sure, +Vivian. A word from you would bring him back in a moment. Do speak it, +Vivian--do! Put your pride in your pocket, child, and don't lose a +lifetime's happiness for some foolish quarrel." + +Miss Orella, like Susie, was at present sure that marriage must mean a +lifetime's happiness. And Vivian looked miserably from one to the other +of these loving women-folk, and could not defend herself with the truth. + +Mrs. Pettigrew took up the cudgels for her. She was not going to have +her favorite grandchild thus condemned and keep silence. "Anybody'd +think Vivian had married the man and then run away with another one!" +she said tartly. "Pity if a girl can't change her mind before +marrying--she's held down pretty close afterward. An engagement isn't +a wedding, Orella Elder." + +"But you don't consider the poor boy's feelings in the least, Mrs. +Pettigrew." + +"No, I don't," snapped the old lady. "I consider the poor girl's. I'm +willing to bet as much as you will that his feelings aren't any worse +than hers. If _he'd_ changed his mind and run off and left _her_, I +warrant you two wouldn't have been so hard on him." + +Evading this issue, Miss Orella wiped her eyes, and said: "Heaven +knows where he is now. And I'm afraid he won't write--he never did +write much, and now he's just heartbroken. I don't know as I'd have +seen him at all if I hadn't been awake and heard him rushing +downstairs. You've no idea how he suffers." + +"I don't see as the girl's to blame that he hadn't decency enough to +say good-bye to the aunt that's been a mother to him; or to write to +her, as he ought to. A person don't need to forget _all_ their duty +because they've got the mitten." + +Vivian shrank away from them all. Her heart ached intolerably. +She had not realized how large a part in her life this constant +admiration and attention had become. She missed the outward +agreeableness, and the soft tide of affection, which had risen +more and more warmly about her. From her earliest memories she +had wished for affection--affection deep and continuous, tender +and with full expression. She had been too reserved to show her +feeling, too proud by far to express it, but under that delicate +reticence of hers lay always that deep longing to love and to be +loved wholly. + +Susie had been a comfort always, in her kittenish affection and +caressing ways, but Susie was doubly lost, both in her new absorption +and now in this estrangement. + +Then, to bring pain to Miss Orella, who had been so kind and sweet to +her from earliest childhood, to hurt her so deeply, now, to mingle in +her cup of happiness this grief and anxiety, made the girl suffer +keenly. Jimmie, of course, was able to comfort Susie. He told her it +was no killing matter anyhow, and that Morton would inevitably console +himself elsewhere. "He'll never wear the willow for any girl, my dear. +Don't you worry about him." + +Also, Mr. Dykeman comforted Miss Orella, not only with wise words, but +with his tender sympathy and hopefulness. But no one could comfort +Vivian. + +Even Dr. Bellair seemed to her present sensitiveness an alien, cruel +power. She had come like the angel with the flaming sword to stand +between her and what, now that it was gone, began to look like Paradise. + +She quite forgot that she had always shrunk from Morton when he made +love too warmly, that she had been far from wholly pleased with him +when he made his appearance there, that their engagement, so far as +they had one, was tentative--"sometime, when I am good enough" not +having arrived. The unreasoning voice of the woman's nature within her +had answered, though but partially, to the deep call of the man's; and +now she missed more than she would admit to herself the tenderness +that was gone. + +She had her intervals of sharp withdrawal from the memory of that +tenderness, of deep thanksgiving for her escape; but fear of a danger +only prophesied, does not obliterate memory of joys experienced. + +Her grandmother watched her carefully, saying little. She forced no +confidence, made no comment, was not obtrusively affectionate, but +formed a definite decision and conveyed it clearly to Dr. Bellair. + +"Look here, Jane Bellair, you've upset Vivian's dish, and quite right; +it's a good thing you did, and I don't know as you could have done it +easier." + +"I couldn't have done it harder--that I know of," the doctor answered. +"I'd sooner operate on a baby--without an anæsthetic--than tell a +thing like that--to a girl like that. But it had to be done; and +nobody else would." + +"You did perfectly right. I'm thankful enough, I promise you; if you +hadn't I should have had to--and goodness knows what a mess I'd have +made. But look here, the girl's going all to pieces. Now we've got to +do something for her, and do it quick." + +"I know that well enough," answered her friend, "and I set about it +even before I made the incision. You've seen that little building +going up on the corner of High and Stone Streets?" + +"That pretty little thing with the grass and flowers round it?" + +"Yes--they got the flowers growing while the decorators finished +inside. It's a first-rate little kindergarten. I've got a list of +scholars all arranged for, and am going to pop the girl into it so +fast she can't refuse. Not that I think she will." + +"Who did it?" demanded Mrs. Pettigrew. "That man Skee?" + +"Mr. Skee has had something to do with it," replied the doctor, +guardedly; "but he doesn't want his name mentioned." + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + +Vivian made no objection, though she was too listless to take up work +with enthusiasm. + +As a prescription nothing could have worked better. Enough small +pupils were collected to pay the rent of the pretty place, and leave a +modest income for her. + +Dr. Bellair gathered together the mothers and aunts for a series of +afternoon talks in the convenient building, Vivian assisting, and +roused much interest among them. The loving touch of little hands, the +pleasure of seeing the gay contentment of her well-ordered charges, +began to lighten the girl's heart at last. They grew so fond of her +that the mothers were jealous, but she played with and taught them so +wisely, and the youngsters were so much improved by it, that no parent +withdrew her darling. + +Further than that, the new interest, the necessary reading and study, +above all the study hours of occupation acted most beneficently, +slowly, but surely steadying the nerves and comforting the heart. + +There is a telling Oriental phrase describing sorrow: "And the whole +world became strait unto him." The sense of final closing down of +life, of a dull, long, narrow path between her and the grave, which +had so oppressed the girl's spirit, now changed rapidly. Here was room +to love at least, and she radiated a happy and unselfish affection +among the little ones. Here was love in return, very sweet and honest, +if shallow. Here was work; something to do, something to think about; +both in her hours with the children and those spent in study. Her work +took her out of the house, too; away from Susie and her aunt, with +their happy chatter and endless white needlework, and the gleeful +examination of presents. + +Never before had she known the blessed relief of another place to go to. + +When she left The Cottonwoods, as early as possible, and placed her +key in the door of the little gray house sitting among the roses, she +felt a distinct lightening of the heart. This was hers. Not her +father's, not Miss Elder's; not anybody's but hers--as long as she +could earn the rent. + +She paid her board, too, in spite of deep and pained remonstrance, +forcing Miss Elder to accept it by the ultimatum "would you rather +make me go away and board somewhere else?" She could not accept favors +where she was condemned. + +This, too, gave her a feeling hitherto inexperienced, deep and +inspiring. She began to hold her graceful head insensibly higher, to +walk with a freer step. Life was not ended after all, though Love had +gone. She might not be happy, but she might be useful and independent. + +Then Dr. Bellair, who had by quiet friendliness and wise waiting, +regained much of her former place with the girl, asked her to +undertake, as a special favor to her, the care of a class of rather +delicate children and young girls, in physical culture. + +"Of course, Johanna Johnson is perfectly reliable and an excellent +teacher. I don't know a better; but their mothers will feel easier if +there's someone they know on the spot. You keep order and see that they +don't overdo. You'll have to go through their little exercises with +them, you see. I can't pay you anything for it; but it's only part of +two afternoons in the week--and it won't hurt you at any rate." + +Vivian was more than glad to do something for the doctor, as well as to +extend her friendship among older children; also glad of anything to +further fill her time. To be alone and idle was to think and suffer. + +Mrs. Pettigrew came in with Dr. Bellair one afternoon to watch the +exercises. + +"I don't see but what Vivian does the tricks as well as any of them," +said her grandmother. + +"She does beautifully," the doctor answered. "And her influence with +the children is just what they needed. You see there's no romping and +foolishness, and she sets the pace--starts them off when they're shy. +I'm extremely obliged to her." + +Mrs. Pettigrew watched Vivian's rhythmic movements, her erect carriage +and swinging step, her warm color and sparkling eyes, as she led the +line of happy youngsters and then turned upon the doctor. + +"Huh!" she said. + +At Susie's wedding, her childhood's friend was so far forgiven as to +be chief bridesmaid, but seeing the happiness before her opened again +the gates of her own pain. + +When it was all over, and the glad young things were safely despatched +upon their ribboned way, when all the guests had gone, when Mrs. St. +Cloud felt the need of air and with the ever-gallant Mr. Skee set +forth in search of it, when Dr. Bellair had returned to her patients, +and Miss Orella to her own parlor, and was there consoled by Mr. +Dykeman for the loss of her niece, then Vivian went to her room--all +hers now, looking strangely large and empty--and set down among the +drifts of white tissue paper and scattered pins--alone. + +She sank down on the bed, weary and sad at heart, for an hour of full +surrender long refused; meaning for once to let her grief have its +full way with her. But, just as on the night of her hurried engagement +she had been unable to taste to the full the happiness expected, so +now, surrender as she might, she could not feel the intensity of +expected pain. + +She was lonely, unquestionably. She faced a lonely life. Six long, +heavy months had passed since she had made her decision. + +"I am nearly twenty-seven now," she thought, resignedly. "I shall +never marry," and she felt a little shiver of the horror of last year. + +But, having got this far in melancholy contemplation, her mind refused +to dwell upon it, but filled in spite of her with visions of merry +little ones, prancing in wavering circles, and singing their more +wavering songs. She was lonely and a single woman--but she had +something to do; and far more power to do it, more interest, +enthusiasm, and skill, than at the season's beginning. + +She thought of Morton--of what little they had heard since his hurried +departure. He had gone farther West; they had heard of him in San +Francisco, they had heard of him, after some months, in the Klondike +region, then they had heard no more. He did not write. It seemed hard to +so deeply hurt his aunt for what was no fault of hers; but Morton had +never considered her feelings very deeply, his bitter anger, his +hopelessness, his desperate disappointment, blinding him to any pain +but his own. + +But her thoughts of him failed to rouse any keen distinctive sorrow. +They rambled backward and forward, from the boy who had been such a +trouble to his aunt, such a continuous disappointment and mortification; +to the man whose wooing, looked back upon at this distance, seemed far +less attractive to the memory than it had been at the time. Even his +honest attempt at improvement gave her but a feeling of pity, and though +pity is akin to love it is not always a near relation. + +From her unresisting descent into wells of pain, which proved +unexpectedly shallow, the girl arose presently and quietly set to work +arranging the room in its new capacity as hers only. + +From black and bitter agony to the gray tastelessness of her present +life was not an exciting change, but Vivian had more power in quiet +endurance than in immediate resistance, and set herself now in earnest +to fulfill the tasks before her. + +This was March. She was planning an extension of her classes, the +employment of an assistant. Her work was appreciated, her school +increased. Patiently and steadily she faced her task, and found a +growing comfort in it. When summer came, Dr. Bellair again begged her +to help out in the plan of a girls' camp she was developing. + +This was new work for Vivian, but her season in Mrs. Johnson's +gymnastic class had given her a fresh interest in her own body and the +use of it. That stalwart instructress, a large-boned, calm-eyed +Swedish woman, was to be the manager of the camp, and Vivian this +time, with a small salary attached, was to act as assistant. + +"It's a wonderful thing the way people take to these camps," said Dr. +Bellair. "They are springing up everywhere. Magnificent for children +and young people." + +"It is a wonderful thing to me," observed Mrs. Pettigrew. "You go to a +wild place that costs no rent; you run a summer hotel without any +accommodations; you get a lot of parents to pay handsomely for letting +their children be uncomfortable--and there you are." + +"They are not uncomfortable!" protested her friend, a little ruffled. +"They like it. And besides liking it, it's good for them. It's +precisely the roughing it that does them good." + +It did do them good; the group of young women and girls who went to +the high-lying mountain lake where Dr. Bellair had bought a piece of +wild, rough country for her own future use, and none of them profited +by it more than Vivian. + +She had been, from time to time, to decorous "shore places," where one +could do nothing but swim and lie on the sand; or to the "mountains," +those trim, green, modest, pretty-picture mountains, of which New +England is so proud; but she had never before been in an untouched +wilderness. + +Often in the earliest dawn she would rise from the springy, odorous +bed of balsam boughs and slip out alone for her morning swim. A run +through the pines to a little rocky cape, with a small cave she knew, +and to glide, naked, into that glass-smooth water, warmer than the +sunless air, and swim out softly, silently, making hardly a ripple, +turn on her back and lie there--alone with the sky--this brought +peace to her heart. She felt so free from every tie to earth, so like +a soul in space, floating there with the clean, dark water beneath +her, and the clear, bright heaven above her; and when the pale glow in +the east brightened to saffron, warmed to rose, burst into a level +blaze of gold, the lake laughed in the light, and Vivian laughed, too, +in pure joy of being alive and out in all that glittering beauty. + +She tramped the hills with the girls; picked heaping pails of wild +berries, learned to cook in primitive fashion, slept as she had never +slept in her life, from dark to dawn, grew brown and hungry and +cheerful. + +After all, twenty-seven was not an old age. + +She came back at the summer-end, and Dr. Bellair clapped her warmly on +the shoulder, declaring, "I'm proud of you, Vivian! Simply proud of +you!" + +Her grandmother, after a judicious embrace, held her at arm's length +and examined her critically. + +"I don't see but what you've stood it first rate," she admitted. "And +if you _like_ that color--why, you certainly are looking well." + +She was well, and began her second year of teaching with a serene +spirit. + +In all this time of slow rebuilding Vivian would not have been left +comfortless if masculine admiration could have pleased her. The young +men at The Cottonwoods, now undistracted by Susie's gay presence, +concentrated much devotion upon Vivian, as did also the youths across +the way. She turned from them all, gently, but with absolute decision. + +Among her most faithful devotees was young Percy Watson, who loved her +almost as much as he loved Dr. Hale, and could never understand, in his +guileless, boyish heart, why neither of them would talk about the other. + +They did not forbid his talking, however, and the earnest youth, +sitting in the quiet parlor at The Cottonwoods, would free his heart +to Vivian about how the doctor worked too hard--sat up all hours to +study--didn't give himself any rest--nor any fun. + +"He'll break down some time--I tell him so. It's not natural for any +man to work that way, and I don't see any real need of it. He says +he's working on a book--some big medical book, I suppose; but what's +the hurry? I wish you'd have him over here oftener, and make him amuse +himself a little, Miss Vivian." + +"Dr. Hale is quite welcome to come at any time--he knows that," said +she. + +Again the candid Percy, sitting on the doctor's shadowy piazza, poured +out his devoted admiration for her to his silent host. + +"She's the finest woman I ever knew!" the boy would say. "She's so +beautiful and so clever, and so pleasant to everybody. She's +_square_--like a man. And she's kind--like a woman, only kinder; a +sort of motherliness about her. I don't see how she ever lived so long +without being married. I'd marry her in a minute if I was good +enough--and if she'd have me." + +Dr. Hale tousled the ears of Balzac, the big, brown dog whose head was +so often on his knee, and said nothing. He had not seen the girl since +that night by the arbor. + +Later in the season he learned, perforce, to know her better, and to +admire her more. + +Susie's baby came with the new year, and brought danger and anxiety. +They hardly hoped to save the life of the child. The little mother was +long unable to leave her bed. Since her aunt was not there, but gone, +as Mrs. Dykeman, on an extended tour--"part business and part +honeymoon," her husband told her--and since Mrs. Pettigrew now ruled +alone at The Cottonwoods, with every evidence of ability and +enjoyment, Vivian promptly installed herself in the Saunders home, as +general housekeeper and nurse. + +She was glad then of her strength, and used it royally, comforting the +wretched Jim, keeping up Susie's spirits, and mothering the frail tiny +baby with exquisite devotion. + +Day after day the doctor saw her, sweet and strong and patient, +leaving her school to the assistant, regardless of losses, showing the +virtues he admired most in women. + +He made his calls as short as possible; but even so, Vivian could not +but note how his sternness gave way to brusque good cheer for the sick +mother, and to a lovely gentleness with the child. + +When that siege was over and the girl returned to her own work, she +carried pleasant pictures in her mind, and began to wonder, as had so +many others, why this man, who seemed so fitted to enjoy a family, had +none. + +She missed his daily call, and wondered further why he avoided them +more assiduously than at first. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +ACHIEVEMENTS. + + There are some folk born to beauty, + And some to plenteous gold, + Some who are proud of being young, + Some proud of being old. + + Some who are glad of happy love, + Enduring, deep and true, + And some who thoroughly enjoy + The little things they do. + + +Upon all this Grandma Pettigrew cast an observant eye, and meditated +sagely thereupon. Coming to a decision, she first took a course of +reading in some of Dr. Bellair's big books, and then developed a +series of perplexing symptoms, not of a too poignant or perilous +nature, that took her to Dr. Hale's office frequently. + +"You haven't repudiated Dr. Bellair, have you?" he asked her. + +"I have never consulted Jane Bellair as a physician," she replied, +"though I esteem her much as a friend." + +The old lady's company was always welcome to him; he liked her +penetrating eye, her close-lipped, sharp remarks, and appreciated the +real kindness of her heart. + +If he had known how closely she was peering into the locked recesses +of his own, and how much she saw there, he would perhaps have avoided +her as he did Vivian, and if he had known further that this ingenious +old lady, pursuing long genealogical discussions with him, had finally +unearthed a mutual old-time friend, and had forthwith started a +correspondence with that friend, based on this common acquaintance in +Carston, he might have left that city. + +The old-time friend, baited by Mrs. Pettigrew's innocent comment on Dr. +Hale's persistence in single blessedness, poured forth what she knew of +the cause with no more embellishment than time is sure to give. + +"I know why he won't marry," wrote she. "He had reason good to begin +with, but I never dreamed he'd be obstinate enough to keep it up +sixteen years. When he was a boy in college here I knew him well--he +was a splendid fellow, one of the very finest. But he fell desperately +in love with that beautiful Mrs. James--don't you remember about her? +She married a St. Cloud later, and he left her, I think. She was as +lovely as a cameo--and as hard and flat. That woman was the saintliest +thing that ever breathed. She wouldn't live with her husband because +he had done something wrong; she wouldn't get a divorce, nor let him, +because that was wicked--and she always had a string of boys round +her, and talked about the moral influence she had on them. + +"Young Hale worshipped her--simply worshipped her--and she let him. +She let them all. She had that much that was god-like about her--she +loved incense. You need not ask for particulars. She was far too +'particular' for that. But one light-headed chap went and drowned +himself--that was all hushed up, of course, but some of us felt pretty +sure why. He was a half-brother to Dick Hale, and Dick was awfully +fond of him. Then he turned hard and hateful all at once--used to talk +horrid about women. He kept straight enough--that's easy for a +mysogynist, and studying medicine didn't help him any--doctors and +ministers know too much about women. So there you are. But I'm +astonished to hear he's never gotten over it; he always was +obstinate--it's his only fault. They say he swore never to marry--if +he did, that accounts. Do give my regards if you see him again." + +Mrs. Pettigrew considered long and deeply over this information, as she +slowly produced a jersey striped with Roman vividness. It was noticeable +in this new life in Carston that Mrs. Pettigrew's knitted jackets had +grown steadily brighter in hue from month to month. Whereas, in +Bainville, purple and brown were the high lights, and black, slate and +navy blue the main colors; now her worsteds were as a painter's palette, +and the result not only cheered, but bade fair to inebriate. + +"A pig-headed man," she said to herself, as her needle prodded +steadily in and out; "a pig-headed man, with a pig-headedness of +sixteen years' standing. His hair must 'a turned gray from the strain +of it. And there's Vivian, biddin' fair to be an old maid after all. +What on _earth_!" She appeared to have forgotten that marriages are +made in heaven, or to disregard that saying. "The Lord helps those +that help themselves," was one of her favorite mottoes. "And much more +those that help other people!" she used to add. + +Flitting in and out of Dr. Hale's at all hours, she noted that he had +a fondness for music, with a phenomenal incapacity to produce any. He +encouraged his boys to play on any and every instrument the town +afforded, and to sing, whether they could or not; and seemed never to +weary of their attempts, though far from satisfied with the product. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + +Vivian could play, "Well enough to know better," she said, and seldom +touched the piano. She had a deep, full, contralto voice, and a fair +degree of training. But she would never make music unless she felt +like it--and in this busy life, with so many people about her, she had +always refused. + +Grandma meditated. + +She selected an evening when most of the boarders were out at some +entertainment, and selfishly begged Vivian to stay at home with +her--said she was feeling badly and wanted company. Grandma so seldom +wanted anything that Vivian readily acquiesced; in fact, she was quite +worried about her, and asked Dr. Bellair if she thought anything was +the matter. + +"She has seemed more quiet lately," said that astute lady, "and I've +noticed her going in to Dr. Hale's during office hours. But perhaps +it's only to visit with him." + +"Are you in any pain, Grandma?" asked the girl, affectionately. +"You're not sick, are you?" + +"O, no--I'm not sick," said the old lady, stoutly. "I'm just--well, I +felt sort of lonesome to-night--perhaps I'm homesick." + +As she had never shown the faintest sign of any feeling for their +deserted home, except caustic criticism and unfavorable comparison, +Vivian rather questioned this theory, but she began to think there was +something in it when her grandmother, sitting by the window in the +spring twilight, began to talk of how this time of year always made +her think of her girlhood. + +"Time for the March peepers at home. It's early here, and no peepers +anywhere that I've heard. 'Bout this time we'd be going to evening +meeting. Seems as if I could hear that little old organ--and the +singing!" + +"Hadn't I better shut that window," asked Vivian. "Won't you get cold?" + +"No, indeed," said her grandmother, promptly. "I'm plenty warm--I've +got this little shawl around me. And it's so soft and pleasant out." + +It was soft and pleasant, a delicious May-like night in March, full of +spring scents and hints of coming flowers. On the dark piazza across the +way she could make out a still figure sitting alone, and the thump of +Balzac's heel as he struggled with his intimate enemies told her who it +was. + +"Come Ye Disconsolate," she began to hum, most erroneously. "How does +that go, Vivian? I was always fond of it, even if I can't sing any +more'n a peacock." + +Vivian hummed it and gave the words in a low voice. + +"That's good!" said the old lady. "I declare, I'm kinder hungry for +some of those old hymns. I wish you'd play me some of 'em, Vivian." + +So Vivian, glad to please her, woke the yellow keys to softer music +than they were accustomed to, and presently her rich, low voice, sure, +easy, full of quiet feeling, flowed out on the soft night air. + +Grandma was not long content with the hymns. "I want some of those +old-fashioned songs--you used to know a lot of 'em. Can't you do that +'Kerry Dance' of Molloy's, and 'Twickenham Ferry'--and 'Lauriger +Horatius?'" + +Vivian gave her those, and many another, Scotch ballads, English songs +and German Lieder--glad to please her grandmother so easily, and quite +unconscious of a dark figure which had crossed the street and come +silently to sit on the farthest corner of their piazza. + +Grandma, meanwhile, watched him, and Vivian as well, and then, with the +most unsuspected suddenness, took to her bed. Sciatica, she said. An +intermittent pain that came upon her so suddenly she couldn't stand up. +She felt much better lying down. And Dr. Hale must attend her +unceasingly. + +This unlooked for overthrow of the phenomenally active old lady was a +great blow to Mr. Skee; he showed real concern and begged to be +allowed to see her. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "It's nothing catching." + +She lay, high-pillowed, as stiff and well arranged as a Knight Templar +on a tombstone, arrayed for the occasion in a most decorative little +dressing sack and ribbony night-cap. + +"Why, ma'am," said Mr. Skee, "it's highly becomin' to you to be sick. +It leads me to hope it's nothin' serious." + +She regarded him enigmatically. "Is Dr. Hale out there, or Vivian?" +she inquired in a low voice. + +"No, ma'am--they ain't," he replied, after a glance in the next room. + +Then he bent a penetrating eye upon her. She met it unflinchingly, but +as his smile appeared and grew, its limitless widening spread +contagion, and her calm front was broken. + +"Elmer Skee," said she, with sudden fury, "you hold your tongue!" + +"Ma'am!" he replied, "I have said nothin'--and I don't intend to. But +if the throne of Europe was occupied by you, Mrs. Pettigrew, we would +have a better managed world." + +He proved a most agreeable and steady visitor during this period of +confinement, and gave her full accounts of all that went on outside, +with occasional irrelevant bursts of merriment which no rebuke from +Mrs. Pettigrew seemed wholly to check. + +He regaled her with accounts of his continuous consultations with Mrs. +St. Cloud, and the wisdom and good taste with which she invariably +advised him. + +"Don't you admire a Platonic Friendship, Mrs. Pettigrew?" + +"I do not!" said the old lady, sharply. "And what's more I don't +believe you do." + +"Well, ma'am," he answered, swaying backward and forward on the hind +legs of his chair, "there are moments when I confess it looks +improbable." + +Mrs. Pettigrew cocked her head on one side and turned a gimlet eye +upon him. "Look here, Elmer Skee," she said suddenly, "how much money +have you really got?" + +He brought down his chair on four legs and regarded her for a few +moments, his smile widening slowly. "Well, ma'am, if I live through +the necessary expenses involved on my present undertaking, I shall +have about two thousand a year--if rents are steady." + +"Which I judge you do not wish to be known?" + +"If there's one thing more than another I have always admired in you, +ma'am, it is the excellence of your judgment. In it I have absolute +confidence." + +Mrs. St. Cloud had some time since summoned Dr. Hale to her side for a +severe headache, but he had merely sent word that his time was fully +occupied, and recommended Dr. Bellair. + +Now, observing Mrs. Pettigrew's tactics, the fair invalid resolved to +take the bull by the horns and go herself to his office. She found him +easily enough. He lifted his eyes as she entered, rose and stood with +folded arms regarding her silently. The tall, heavy figure, the full +beard, the glasses, confused even her excellent memory. After all it was +many years since they had met, and he had been but one of a multitude. + +She was all sweetness and gentle apology for forcing herself upon him, +but really she had a little prejudice against women doctors--his +reputation was so great--he was so temptingly near--she was in such +pain--she had such perfect confidence in him-- + +He sat down quietly and listened, watching her from under his bent +brows. Her eyes were dropped, her voice very weak and appealing; her +words most perfectly chosen. + +"I have told you," he said at length, "that I never treat women for +their petty ailments, if I can avoid it." + +She shook her head in grieved acceptance, and lifted large eyes for +one of those penetrating sympathetic glances so frequently successful. + +"How you must have suffered!" she said. + +"I have," he replied grimly. "I have suffered a long time from having +my eyes opened too suddenly to the brainless cruelty of women, Mrs. +James." + +She looked at him again, searchingly, and gave a little cry. "Dick +Hale!" she said. + +"Yes, Dick Hale. Brother to poor little Joe Medway, whose foolish +young heart you broke, among others; whose death you are responsible +for." + +She was looking at him with widening wet eyes. "Ah! If you only knew +how I, too, have suffered over that!" she said. "I was scarce more +than a girl myself, then. I was careless, not heartless. No one knew +what pain I was bearing, then. I liked the admiration of those nice +boys--I never realized any of them would take it seriously. That has +been a heavy shadow on my life, Dr. Hale--the fear that I was the +thoughtless cause of that terrible thing. And you have never forgiven +me. I do not wonder." + +He was looking at her in grim silence again, wishing he had not +spoken. + +"So that is why you have never been to The Cottonwoods since I came," +she pursued. "And I am responsible for all your loneliness. O, how +dreadful!" + +Again he rose to his feet. + +"No, madam, you mistake. You were responsible for my brother's death, +and for a bitter awakening on my part, but you are in no way +responsible for my attitude since. That is wholly due to myself. Allow +me again to recommend Dr. Jane Bellair, an excellent physician and +even more accessible." + +He held the door for her, and she went out, not wholly dissatisfied +with her visit. She would have been far more displeased could she have +followed his thoughts afterward. + +"What a Consummate Ass I have been all my life!" he was meditating. +"Because I met this particular type of sex parasite, to deliberately +go sour--and forego all chance of happiness. Like a silly girl. A +fool girl who says, 'I will never marry!' just because of some quarrel +* * * But the girl never keeps her word. A man must." + +The days were long to Vivian now, and dragged a little, for all her +industry. + +Mrs. St. Cloud tried to revive their former intimacy, but the girl could +not renew it on the same basis. She, too, had sympathized with Mr. +Dykeman, and now sympathized somewhat with Mr. Skee. But since that +worthy man still volubly discoursed on Platonism, and his fair friend +openly agreed in this view, there seemed no real ground for distress. + +Mrs. Pettigrew remained ailing and rather captious. She had a +telephone put at her bedside, and ran her household affairs +efficiently, with Vivian as lieutenant, and the ever-faithful Jeanne +to uphold the honor of the cuisine. Also she could consult her +physician, and demanded his presence at all hours. + +He openly ignored Mrs. St. Cloud now, who met his rude treatment with +secret, uncomplaining patience. + +Vivian spoke of this. "I do not see why he need be so rude, Grandma. He +may hate women, but I don't see why he should treat her so shamefully." + +"Well, I do," replied the invalid, "and what's more I'm going to show +you; I've always disliked that woman, and now I know why. I'd turn +her out of the house if it wasn't for Elmer Skee. That man's as good +as gold under all his foolishness, and if he can get any satisfaction +out of that meringue he's welcome. Dr. Hale doesn't hate women, child, +but a woman broke his heart once--and then he made an idiot of himself +by vowing never to marry." + +She showed her friend's letter, and Vivian read it with rising color. +"O, Grandma! Why that's worse than I ever thought--even after what Dr. +Bellair told us. And it was his brother! No wonder he's so fond of +boys. He tries to warn them, I suppose." + +"Yes, and the worst of it is that he's really got over his grouch; and +he's in love--but tied down by that foolish oath, poor man." + +"Is he, Grandma? How do you know? With whom?" + +"You dear, blind child!" said the old lady, "with you, of course. Has +been ever since we came." + +The girl sat silent, a strange feeling of joy rising in her heart, as +she reviewed the events of the last two years. So that was why he +would not stay that night. And that was why. "No wonder he wouldn't +come here!" she said at length. "It's on account of that woman. But +why did he change?" + +"Because she went over there to see him. He wouldn't come to her. I +heard her 'phone to him one evening." The old lady chuckled. "So she +marched herself over there--I saw her, and I guess she got her +needin's. She didn't stay long. And his light burned till morning." + +"Do you think he cares for her, still?" + +"Cares for her!" The old lady fairly snorted her derision. "He can't +bear the sight of her--treats her as if she wasn't there. No, indeed. +If he did she'd have him fast enough, now. Well! I suppose he'll +repent of that foolishness of his all the days of his life--and stick +it out! Poor man." + +Mrs. Pettigrew sighed, and Vivian echoed the sigh. She began to +observe Dr. Hale with new eyes; to study little matters of tone and +manner--and could not deny her grandmother's statement. Nor would she +admit it--yet. + +The old lady seemed weaker and more irritable, but positively forbade +any word of this being sent to her family. + +"There's nothing on earth ails me," she said. "Dr. Hale says there's +not a thing the matter that he can see--that if I'd only eat more I'd +get stronger. I'll be all right soon, my dear. I'll get my appetite +and get well, I have faith to believe." + +She insisted on his coming over in the evening, when not too busy, and +staying till she dropped asleep, and he seemed strangely willing to +humor her; sitting for hours in the quiet parlor, while Vivian played +softly, and sang her low-toned hymns. + +So sitting, one still evening, when for some time no fretful "not so +loud" had come from the next room, he turned suddenly to Vivian and +asked, almost roughly--"Do you hold a promise binding?--an oath, a +vow--to oneself?" + +She met his eyes, saw the deep pain there, the long combat, the +irrepressible hope and longing. + +"Did you swear to keep your oath secret?" she asked. + +"Why, no," he said, "I did not. I will tell you. I did not swear never +to tell a woman I loved her. I never dreamed I should love again. +Vivian, I was fool enough to love a shallow, cruel woman, once, and +nearly broke my heart in consequence. That was long years ago. I have +never cared for a woman since--till I met you. And now I must pay +double for that boy folly." + +He came to her and took her hand. + +"I love you," he said, his tense grip hurting her. "I shall love you as +long as I live--day and night--forever! You shall know that at any +rate!" + +She could not raise her eyes. A rich bright color rose to the soft +border of her hair. He caught her face in his hands and made her look +at him; saw those dark, brilliant eyes softened, tear-filled, asking, +and turned sharply away with a muffled cry. + +"I have taken a solemn oath," he said in a strained, hard voice, +"never to ask a woman to marry me." + +He heard a little gasping laugh, and turned upon her. She stood there +smiling, her hands reached out to him. + +"You don't have to," she said. + + * * * * * + +A long time later, upon their happy stillness broke a faint voice from +the other room: + +"Vivian, I think if you'd bring me some bread and butter--and a cup of +tea--and some cold beef and a piece of pie--I could eat it." + + * * * * * + +Upon the rapid and complete recovery of her grandmother's health, and +the announcement of Vivian's engagement, Mr. and Mrs. Lane decided to +make a visit to their distant mother and daughter, hoping as well that +Mr. Lane's cough might be better for a visit in that altitude. Mr. and +Mrs. Dykeman also sent word of their immediate return. + +Jeanne, using subtle powers of suggestion, caused Mrs. Pettigrew to +decide upon giving a dinner, in honor of these events. There was the +betrothed couple, there were the honored guests; there were Jimmie and +Susie, with or without the baby; there were the Dykemans; there was +Dr. Bellair, of course; there was Mr. Skee, an even number. + +"I'm sorry to spoil that table, but I've got to take in Mrs. St. +Cloud," said the old lady. + +"O, Grandma! Why! It'll spoil it for Dick." + +"Huh!" said her grandmother. "He's so happy you couldn't spoil it with +a mummy. If I don't ask her it'll spoil it for Mr. Skee." + +So Mrs. St. Cloud made an eleventh at the feast, and neither Mr. +Dykeman nor Vivian could find it in their happy hearts to care. + +Mr. Skee arose, looking unusually tall and shapely in immaculate +every-day dress, his well-brushed hair curling vigorously around the +little bald spots; his smile wide and benevolent. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen, both Domestic and Foreign, Friends and +Fellowtownsmen and Women--Ladies, God Bless 'em; also Children, if +any: I feel friendly enough to-night to include the beasts of the +fields--but such would be inappropriate at this convivial board--among +these convivial boarders. + +"This is an occasion of great rejoicing. We have many things to +rejoice over, both great _and_ small. We have our healths; all of us, +apparently. We are experiencing the joys of reunion--in the matter of +visiting parents that is, and long absent daughters. + +"We have also the Return of the Native, in the shape of my old friend +Andy--now become a Benedict--and seeming to enjoy it. About this same +Andy I have a piece of news to give you which will cause you +astonishment and gratification, but which involves me in a profuse +apology--a most sincere and general apology. + +"You know how a year or more ago it was put about in this town that +Andrew Dykeman was a ruined man?" Mrs. St. Cloud darted a swift glance +at Mr. Dykeman, but his eyes rested calmly on his wife; then at Mr. +Skee--but he was pursuing his remorseful way. + +"I do not wish to blame my friend Andy for his reticence--but he +certainly did exhibit reticence on this occasion--to beat the band! He +never contradicted this rumor--not once. _He_ just went about looking +kind o' down in the mouth for some reason or other, and when for the +sake o' Auld Lang Syne I offered him a job in my office--the cuss took +it! I won't call this deceitful, but it sure was reticent to a degree. + +"Well, Ladies--and Gentlemen--the best of us are liable to mistakes, +and I have to admit--I am glad to humble myself and make this public +admission--I was entirely in error in this matter. + +"It wasn't so. There was nothing in it. It was rumor, pure and simple. +Andy Dykeman never lost no mine, it appears; or else he had another up +his sleeve concealed from his best friends. Anyhow, the facts are +these; not only that A. Dykeman as he sits before you is a prosperous +and wealthy citizen, but that he has been, for these ten years back, +and we were all misled by a mixture of rumor and reticence. If he has +concealed these facts from the wife of his bosom I submit that that is +carrying reticence too far!" Again Mrs. St. Cloud sent a swift glance +at the reticent one, and again caught only his tender apologetic look +toward his wife, and her utter amazement. + +Mr. Dykeman rose to his feet. + +"I make no apologies for interrupting my friend," he said. "It is +necessary at times. He at least can never be accused of reticence. +Neither do I make apologies for letting rumor take its course--a +course often interesting to observe. But I do apologize--in this +heartfelt and public manner, to my wife, for marrying her under false +pretenses. But any of you gentlemen who have ever had any experience +in the attitude of," he hesitated mercifully, and said, "the World, +toward a man with money, may understand what it meant to me, after +many years of bachelorhood, to find a heart that not only loved me for +myself alone, but absolutely loved me better because I'd lost my +money--or she thought I had. I have hated to break the charm. But now +my unreticent friend here has stated the facts, and I make my +confession. Will you forgive me, Orella?" + +"Speech! Speech!" cried Mr. Skee. But Mrs. Dykeman could not be +persuaded to do anything but blush and smile and squeeze her husband's +hand under the table, and Mr. Skee arose once more. + +"This revelation being accomplished," he continued cheerfully; "and no +one any the worse for it, as I see," he was not looking in the +direction of Mrs. St. Cloud, whose slippered foot beat softly under +the table, though her face wore its usual sweet expression, possibly a +trifle strained; "I now proceed to a proclamation of that happy event +to celebrate which we are here gathered together. I allude to the +Betrothal of Our Esteemed Friend, Dr. Richard Hale, and the Fairest of +the Fair! Regarding the Fair, we think he has chosen well. But +regarding Dick Hale, his good fortune is so clear, so evidently +undeserved, and his pride and enjoyment thereof so ostentatious, as to +leave us some leeway to make remarks. + +"Natural remarks, irresistible remarks, as you might say, and not +intended to be acrimonious. Namely, such as these: It's a long lane +that has no turning; There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip; +The worm will turn; The pitcher that goes too often to the well gets +broken at last; Better Late than Never. And so on and so forth. Any +other gentleman like to make remarks on this topic?" + +Dr. Hale rose, towering to his feet. + +"I think I'd better make them," he said. "No one else could so fully, +so heartily, with such perfect knowledge point out how many kinds of a +fool I've been for all these years. And yet of them all there are only +two that I regret--this last two in which if I had been wiser, perhaps +I might have found my happiness sooner. As that cannot be proven, +however, I will content myself with the general acknowledgment that +Bachelors are Misguided Bats, I myself having long been the worst +instance; women, in general, are to be loved and honored; and that I +am proud and glad to accept your congratulations because the sweetest +and noblest woman in the world has honored me with her love." + +"I never dreamed you could put so many words together, Doc--and really +make sense!" said Mr. Skee, genially, as he rose once more. "You +certainly show a proper spirit at last, and all is forgiven. But now, +my friends; now if your attention is not exhausted, I have yet another +Event to confide to you." + +Mr. and Mrs. Lane wore an aspect of polite interest. Susie and Jim +looked at each other with a sad but resigned expression. So did Mrs. +Dykeman and her husband. Vivian's hand was in her lover's and she +could not look unhappy, but they, too, deprecated this last +announcement, only too well anticipated. Only Mrs. St. Cloud, her fair +face bowed in gentle confusion, showed anticipating pleasure. + +Mr. Skee waved his hand toward her with a large and graceful gesture. + +"You must all of you have noticed the amount of Platonic Friendship +which has been going on for some time between my undeserving self and +this lovely lady here. Among so many lovely ladies perhaps I'd better +specify that I refer to the one on my left. + +"What she has been to me, in my lonely old age, none of you perhaps +realize." He wore an expression as of one long exiled, knowing no one +who could speak his language. + +"She has been my guide, counsellor and friend; she has assisted me +with advice most wise and judicious; she has not interfered with my +habits, but has allowed me to enjoy life in my own way, with the +added attraction of her companionship. + +"Now, I dare say, there may have been some of you who have questioned +my assertion that this friendship was purely Platonic. Perhaps even +the lady herself, knowing the heart of man, may have doubted if my +feeling toward her was really friendship." + +Mr. Skee turned his head a little to one side and regarded her with a +tender inquiring smile. + +To this she responded sweetly: "Why no, Mr. Skee, of course, I +believed what you said." + +"There, now," said he, admiringly. "What is so noble as the soul of +woman? It is to this noble soul in particular, and to all my friends +here in general, that I now confide the crowning glory of a long and +checkered career, namely, and to wit, that I am engaged to be married +to that Peerless Lady, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, of whose remarkable +capacities and achievements I can never sufficiently express my +admiration." + +A silence fell upon the table. Mr. Skee sat down smiling, evidently in +cheerful expectation of congratulations. Mrs. Pettigrew wore an alert +expression, as of a skilled fencer preparing to turn any offered +thrusts. Mrs. St. Cloud seemed to be struggling with some emotion, +which shook her usual sweet serenity. The others, too, were visibly +affected, and not quick to respond. + +Then did Mr. Saunders arise with real good nature and ever-ready wit; +and pour forth good-humored nonsense with congratulations all around, +till a pleasant atmosphere was established, in which Mrs. St. Cloud +could so far recover as to say many proper and pretty things; sadly +adding that she regretted her imminent return to the East would end so +many pleasant friendships. + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOKS BY + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman + + +Moving the Mountain. + +A Utopia at short range. How we might change this country in thirty +years, if we changed our minds first. Mrs. Gilman's latest book, like +her earliest verse, is a protest against the parrot cry that "you +can't alter human nature." + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +What Diantha Did. + +A Novel. + +"What she did was to solve the domestic service problem for both +mistress and maid in a southern California town." + + "_The Survey._" + +"A sensible book, it gives a new and deserved comprehension of the +importance and complexity of housekeeping." + + "_The Independent._" + +"Mrs. Perkins Gilman is as full of ideas as ever, and her Diantha is a +model for all young women." + + "_The Englishwoman._" + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +The Man-Made World. + +"We defy any thoughtful person to read this book of Mrs. Gilman, and not +be moved to or towards conviction, whether he acknowledges it or not." + + "_San Francisco Star._" + +"Mrs. Gilman has presented in this work the results of her thought, +study, and observation of the much debated question of the relation of +man to woman and of woman to man. The subject is developed with much +wise argument and wholesome sense of humor." + + "_The Craftsman._" + +"Mrs. Gilman has applied her theory with much cleverness, consistency +and logical thinking." + + "_Chicago Evening Post._" + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +"IN THIS OUR WORLD" + +There is a joyous superabundance of life, of strength, of health, in +Mrs. Gilman's verse, which seems born of the glorious sunshine and +rich gardens of California. + + --_Washington Times._ + +The freshness, charm and geniality of her satire temporarily convert +us to her most advanced views. + + --_Boston Journal._ + +The poet of women and for women, a new and prophetic voice in the +world. Montaigne would have rejoiced in her. + + --_Mexican Herald._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.25=. + + +"THE HOME" + +Indeed, Mrs. Gilman has not intended her book so much as a treatise +for scholars as a surgical operation on the popular mind. + + --_The Critic, New York._ + +Whatever Mrs. Gilman writes, people read--approving or protesting, +still they read. + + --_Republican, Springfield, Mass._ + +Full of thought and of new and striking suggestions. Tells what the +average woman has and ought not keep, what she is and ought not be. + + --_Literature World._ + +But it is safe to say that no more stimulating arraignment has ever +before taken shape and that the argument of the book is noble, and, on +the whole, convincing. + + --_Congregationalist, Boston._ + +The name of this author is a guarantee of logical reasoning, sound +economical principles and progressive thought. + + --_The Craftsman, Syracuse._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.00=. + +"The Home" has been translated into Swedish. + + +"WOMEN AND ECONOMICS" + +Since John Stuart Mill's essay there has been no book dealing with the +whole position of women to approach it in originality of conception +and brilliancy of exposition. + + --_London Chronicle._ + +The most significant utterance on the subject since Mill's "Subjection +of Women." + + --_The Nation._ + +It is the strongest book on the woman question that has yet been +published. + + --_Minneapolis Journal._ + +A remarkable book. A work on economics that has not a dull page,--the +work of a woman about women that has not a flippant word. + + --_Boston Transcript._ + +This book unites in a remarkable degree the charm of a brilliantly +written essay with the inevitable logic of a proposition of Euclid. +Nothing that we have read for many a long day can approach in +clearness of conception, in power of arrangement, and in lucidity of +expression the argument developed in the first seven chapters of this +remarkable book. + + --_Westminster Gazette, London._ + +Will be widely read and discussed as the cleverest, fairest, most +forcible presentation of the view of the rapidly increasing group who +look with favor on the extension of industrial employment to women. + + --_Political Science Quarterly._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.50=. + +"Women and Economics" has been translated into German, Dutch, Italian, +Hungarian, Russian and Japanese. + + +"CONCERNING CHILDREN" + +WANTED:--A philanthropist, to give a copy to every English-speaking +parent. + + --_The Times, New York._ + +Should be read by every mother in the land. + + --_The Press, New York._ + +Wholesomely disturbing book that deserves to be read for its own sake. + + --_Chicago Dial._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.25=. + +"Concerning Children" has been translated into German, Dutch and +Yiddish. + + +"THE YELLOW WALLPAPER" + +Worthy of a place beside some of the weird masterpieces of Hawthorne +and Poe. + + --_Literature._ + +As a short story it stands among the most powerful produced in America. + + --_Chicago News._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$0.50=. + + +"HUMAN WORK" + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman has added a third to her great trilogy of +books on economic subjects as they affect our daily life, particularly +in the home. Mrs. Gilman is by far the most brilliant woman writer of +our day, and this new volume, which she calls "Human Work," is a +glorification of labor. + + --_New Orleans Picayune._ + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman has been writing a new book, entitled "Human +Work." It is the best thing that Mrs. Gilman has done, and it is meant +to focus all of her previous work, so to speak. + + --_Tribune, Chicago._ + +In her latest volume, "Human Work," Charlotte Perkins Gilman places +herself among the foremost students and elucidators of the problem of +social economics. + + --_San Francisco Star._ + +It is impossible to overestimate the value of the insistence on the +social aspect of human affairs as Mrs. Gilman has outlined it. + + --_Public Opinion._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.00=. + +CHARLTON COMPANY, 67 Wall St., New York + + + + +THE FORERUNNER + + +A monthly magazine, written, edited, owned and published + +by + +CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN +67 Wall Street, New York City +U. S. A. + + +SUBSCRIPTION PER YEAR + + Domestic $1.00 + Canadian 1.12 + Foreign 1.25 + + +Bound Volumes, each year $1.40 post paid + + +This magazine carries Mrs. Gilman's best and newest work, her social +philosophy, verse, satire, fiction, ethical teaching, humor and opinion. + +It stands for Humanness in Women and Men; for better methods in Child +Culture; for the New Ethics, the better Economics--the New World we +are to make, are making. The breadth of Mrs. Gilman's thought and her +power of expressing it have made her well-known in America and Europe +as a leader along lines of human improvement and a champion of woman. + +THE FORERUNNER voices her thought and its messages are not only many, +but strong, true and vital. + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcription Notes: + + +Text in bold has been marked with equal signs (=text=). + +Text in italics has been marked with underscores (_text_). + +The original spelling and minor inconsistencies in the spelling and +formatting have been retained. + +Minor punctuation . , ; " ' changes have been made without annotation. + +Other changes to the original text are listed as follows: + +Page 2 Man-made/Man-Made: The Man-Made World +Page 45 evclaimed/exclaimed: exclaimed his wife +Page 110 Removed repeated word a: were a real +Page 115 who/why: why his hair's +Page 134 though/thought: I thought as much +Page 164 Mr./My: My dear Miss +Page 169 Removed repeated word and: her own and set it +Page 174 Removed redundant word a: he had not had +Page 194 though/thought: I thought I heard +Page 197 litle/little: a little dampened +Page 240 weedings/weddings: wooings and weddings +Page 260 irrestible/irresistible: sleep irresistible from +Page 261 Cottonwood/Cottonwoods: to The Cottonwoods +Page 285 busband/husband: live with her husband +Page 317 massages/messages: its messages are not only + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crux, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + +***** This file should be named 38551-8.txt or 38551-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/5/38551/ + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Crux + +Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +Release Date: January 11, 2012 [EBook #38551] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + + + + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<pre> + +</pre> + + +<div class="center" style="margin: auto; max-width: 40em;"> + +<!-- Start Main body of work --> + +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> +<!-- *************************** ***************************** --> +<!-- *************************** MAIN BODY OF WORK ***************************** --> +<!-- *************************** ***************************** --> +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> +<!-- ****************************************************************************************** --> + + + +<!-- cover art --> + +<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="600" alt="Book Cover" /> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span> +--> + +<!-- Title Page --> +<br /> + +<h1>THE CRUX</h1> +<br /> +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span> +--> + +<br /> +<br /> +<h2><a name="Books_by_Charlotte_Perkins_Gilman" id="Books_by_Charlotte_Perkins_Gilman"></a><span class="smcap">Books by Charlotte Perkins Gilman</span></h2> + +<table summary="Books and Prices"> + + <tr><td align="left">Women and Economics</td><td align="right"> $1.50</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Concerning Children</td><td align="right"> 1.25</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">In This Our World (verse)</td><td align="right"> 1.25</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Yellow Wallpaper (story) </td><td align="right"> 0.50</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Home</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Human Work </td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">What Diantha Did (novel)</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Man-Made World; or, Our Androcentric Culture </td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Moving the Mountain</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">The Crux</td><td align="right"> 1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Suffrage Songs </td><td align="right"> 0.10</td></tr> + +</table> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span> +--> + +<h1><span class="smcap">The Crux</span></h1> + +<br /> +<h3>A NOVEL</h3> +<h5>BY</h5> +<h3>CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN</h3> +<br /> +<br /> +<h6>CHARLTON COMPANY<br /> +NEW YORK<br /> +1911</h6> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!--remove comment to display number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span> +--> + +<h6>Copyright, 1911<br /> +by<br /> +Charlotte Perkins Gilman</h6> +<br /> +<br /> +<h6>THE CO-OPERATIVE PRESS, 15 SPRUCE STREET, NEW YORK</h6> + +<!-- Begin visible page numbering --> +<hr class="chap" /><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> + + + + +<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> + + +<p>This story is, first, for young women +to read; second, for young men to +read; after that, for anybody who +wants to. Anyone who doubts its facts and +figures is referred to "Social Diseases and +Marriage," by Dr. Prince Morrow, or to +"Hygiene and Morality," by Miss Lavinia +Dock, a trained nurse of long experience.</p> + +<p>Some will hold that the painful facts disclosed +are unfit for young girls to know. +Young girls are precisely the ones who must +know them, in order that they may protect +themselves and their children to come. The +time to know of danger is before it is too +late to avoid it.</p> + +<p>If some say "Innocence is the greatest +charm of young girls," the answer is, "What +good does it do them?"</p> + +<hr class="chap" /> + +<!-- remove comment to display page number +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> +--> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span> + + + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table border="0" summary="Table of Contents"> + + <tr> + <td align="right"> + <span style="font-size: 75%">CHAPTER</span> + </td> + <td align="left"> + + </td> + <td align="right"> + + + + + + <span style="font-size: 75%">PAGE</span> + </td> + </tr> + + <tr> + <td align="right"> I. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">The Back Way</a></span></td> + <td align="right">9</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> II. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">Bainville Effects</a></span></td> + <td align="right">31</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> III. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"> <a href="#CHAPTER_III">The Outbreak</a></span></td> + <td align="right">60</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> IV. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Transplanted</a></span></td> + <td align="right">81</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> V. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Contrasts</a></span></td> + <td align="right">101</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> VI. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">New Friends and Old</a></span></td> + <td align="right">126</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> VII. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Side Lights</a></span></td> + <td align="right">149</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right">VIII. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">A Mixture</a></span></td> + <td align="right">174</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> IX. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">Consequences</a></span></td> + <td align="right">204</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> X. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">Determination</a></span></td> + <td align="right">229</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> XI. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">Thereafter</a></span></td> + <td align="right">256</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="right"> XII. </td> + <td align="left"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Achievements</a></span></td> + <td align="right">283</td> + </tr> + + </table> +<hr class="chap" /><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span> + + + + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left: 20%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Who should know but the woman?—The young wife-to-be?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Whose whole life hangs on the choice;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>To her the ruin, the misery;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>To her, the deciding voice.</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Who should know but the woman?—The mother-to-be?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Guardian, Giver, and Guide;</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>If she may not foreknow, forejudge and foresee,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>What safety has childhood beside?</i><br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Who should know but the woman?—The girl in her youth?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>The hour of the warning is then,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>That, strong in her knowledge and free in her truth,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>She may build a new race of new men.</i><br /></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span></div></div> + + +<hr class="chap" /><h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE BACK WAY</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:35%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Along the same old garden path,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet with the same old flowers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Under the lilacs, darkly dense,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The easy gate in the backyard fence—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Those unforgotten hours!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The "Foote Girls" were bustling +along Margate Street with an air +of united purpose that was unusual +with them. Miss Rebecca wore her black +silk cloak, by which it might be seen that +"a call" was toward. Miss Jessie, the thin +sister, and Miss Sallie, the fat one, were +more hastily attired. They were persons +of less impressiveness than Miss Rebecca, +as was tacitly admitted by their more +familiar nicknames, a concession never made +by the older sister.</p> + +<p>Even Miss Rebecca was hurrying a little, +for her, but the others were swifter and +more impatient.</p> + +<p>"Do come on, Rebecca. Anybody'd think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> +you were eighty instead of fifty!" said Miss +Sallie.</p> + +<p>"There's Mrs. Williams going in! I +wonder if she's heard already. Do hurry!" +urged Miss Josie.</p> + +<p>But Miss Rebecca, being concerned about +her dignity, would not allow herself to be +hustled, and the three proceeded in irregular +order under the high-arched elms and +fence-topping syringas of the small New +England town toward the austere home of +Mr. Samuel Lane.</p> + +<p>It was a large, uncompromising, square, +white house, planted starkly in the close-cut +grass. It had no porch for summer lounging, +no front gate for evening dalliance, no +path-bordering beds of flowers from which +to pluck a hasty offering or more redundant +tribute. The fragrance which surrounded it +came from the back yard, or over the fences +of neighbors; the trees which waved greenly +about it were the trees of other people. Mr. +Lane had but two trees, one on each side of +the straight and narrow path, evenly placed +between house and sidewalk—evergreens.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane received them amiably; the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> +minister's new wife, Mrs. Williams, was +proving a little difficult to entertain. She +was from Cambridge, Mass., and emanated +a restrained consciousness of that fact. Mr. +Lane rose stiffly and greeted them. He did +not like the Foote girls, not having the usual +American's share of the sense of humor. He +had no enjoyment of the town joke, as old +as they were, that "the three of them made +a full yard;" and had frowned down as a +profane impertinent the man—a little sore +under some effect of gossip—who had +amended it with "make an 'ell, I say."</p> + +<p>Safely seated in their several rocking +chairs, and severally rocking them, the +Misses Foote burst forth, as was their custom, +in simultaneous, though by no means +identical remarks.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you've heard about Morton +Elder?"</p> + +<p>"What do you think Mort Elder's been +doing now?"</p> + +<p>"We've got bad news for poor Miss +Elder!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane was intensely interested. Even +Mr. Lane showed signs of animation.</p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> + +<p>"I'm not surprised," he said.</p> + +<p>"He's done it now," opined Miss Josie +with conviction. "I always said Rella Elder +was spoiling that boy."</p> + +<p>"It's too bad—after all she's done for +him! He always was a scamp!" Thus Miss +Sallie.</p> + +<p>"I've been afraid of it all along," Miss +Rebecca was saying, her voice booming +through the lighter tones of her sisters. "I +always said he'd never get through college."</p> + +<p>"But who is Morton Elder, and what has +he done?" asked Mrs. Williams as soon as +she could be heard.</p> + +<p>This lady now proved a most valuable +asset. She was so new to the town, and had +been so immersed in the suddenly widening +range of her unsalaried duties as "minister's +wife," that she had never even heard of +Morton Elder.</p> + +<p>A new resident always fans the languishing +flame of local conversation. The whole +shopworn stock takes on a fresh lustre, +topics long trampled flat in much discussion +lift their heads anew, opinions one scarce +dared to repeat again become almost author<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span>itative, +old stories flourish freshly, acquiring +new detail and more vivid color.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane, seizing her opportunity while +the sisters gasped a momentary amazement +at anyone's not knowing the town scapegrace, +and taking advantage of her position +as old friend and near neighbor of the family +under discussion, swept into the field +under such headway that even the Foote +girls remained silent perforce; surcharged, +however, and holding their breaths in readiness +to burst forth at the first opening.</p> + +<p>"He's the nephew—orphan nephew—of +Miss Elder—who lives right back of us—our +yards touch—we've always been friends—went +to school together, Rella's never +married—she teaches, you know—and her +brother—he owned the home—it's all hers +now, he died all of a sudden and left two +children—Morton and Susie. Mort was +about seven years old and Susie just a baby. +He's been an awful cross—but she just idolizes +him—she's spoiled him, I tell her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane had to breathe, and even the +briefest pause left her stranded to wait +another chance. The three social benefac<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span>tors +proceeded to distribute their information +in a clattering torrent. They sought to +inform Mrs. Williams in especial, of numberless +details of the early life and education +of their subject, matters which would +have been treated more appreciatively if +they had not been blessed with the later +news; and, at the same time, each was seeking +for a more dramatic emphasis to give +this last supply of incident with due effect.</p> + +<p>No regular record is possible where three +persons pour forth statement and comment +in a rapid, tumultuous stream, interrupted +by cross currents of heated contradiction, +and further varied by the exclamations and +protests of three hearers, or at least, of two; +for the one man present soon relapsed into +disgusted silence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams, turning a perplexed face +from one to the other, inwardly condemning +the darkening flood of talk, yet conscious +of a sinful pleasure in it, and anxious +as a guest, <i>and</i> a minister's wife, to be most +amiable, felt like one watching three kinetescopes +at once. She saw, in confused pictures +of blurred and varying outline, Orella<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> +Elder, the young New England girl, only +eighteen, already a "school ma'am," suddenly +left with two children to bring up, +and doing it, as best she could. She saw the +boy, momentarily changing, in his shuttlecock +flight from mouth to mouth, through +pale shades of open mischief to the black +and scarlet of hinted sin, the terror of the +neighborhood, the darling of his aunt, +clever, audacious, scandalizing the quiet +town.</p> + +<p>"Boys are apt to be mischievous, aren't +they?" she suggested when it was possible.</p> + +<p>"He's worse than mischievous," Mr. Lane +assured her sourly. "There's a mean streak +in that family."</p> + +<p>"That's on his mother's side," Mrs. Lane +hastened to add. "She was a queer girl—came +from New York."</p> + +<p>The Foote girls began again, with rich +profusion of detail, their voices rising shrill, +one above the other, and playing together +at their full height like emulous fountains.</p> + +<p>"We ought not to judge, you know;" +urged Mrs. Williams. "What do you say +he's really done?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span></p> + +<p>Being sifted, it appeared that this last +and most terrible performance was to go to +"the city" with a group of "the worst boys +of college," to get undeniably drunk, to do +some piece of mischief. (Here was great +licence in opinion, and in contradiction.)</p> + +<p>"<i>Anyway</i> he's to be suspended!" said +Miss Rebecca with finality.</p> + +<p>"Suspended!" Miss Josie's voice rose in +scorn. "<i>Expelled!</i> They said he was expelled."</p> + +<p>"In disgrace!" added Miss Sallie.</p> + +<p>Vivian Lane sat in the back room at the +window, studying in the lingering light of +the long June evening. At least, she appeared +to be studying. Her tall figure was +bent over her books, but the dark eyes blazed +under their delicate level brows, and her +face flushed and paled with changing feelings.</p> + +<p>She had heard—who, in the same house, +could escape hearing the Misses Foote?—and +had followed the torrent of description, +hearsay, surmise and allegation with +an interest that was painful in its intensity.</p> + +<p>"It's a <i>shame</i>!" she whispered under her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> +breath. "A <i>shame</i>! And nobody to stand +up for him!"</p> + +<p>She half rose to her feet as if to do it +herself, but sank back irresolutely.</p> + +<p>A fresh wave of talk rolled forth.</p> + +<p>"It'll half kill his aunt."</p> + +<p>"Poor Miss Elder! I don't know what +she'll do!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what <i>he'll</i> do. He can't go +back to college."</p> + +<p>"He'll have to go to work."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know where—nobody'd hire +him in this town."</p> + +<p>The girl could bear it no longer. She +came to the door, and there, as they paused +to speak to her, her purpose ebbed again.</p> + +<p>"My daughter, Vivian, Mrs. Williams," +said her mother; and the other callers +greeted her familiarly.</p> + +<p>"You'd better finish your lessons, Vivian," +Mr. Lane suggested.</p> + +<p>"I have, father," said the girl, and took +a chair by the minister's wife. She +had a vague feeling that if she were +there, they would not talk so about Morton +Elder.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams hailed the interruption +gratefully. She liked the slender girl with +the thoughtful eyes and pretty, rather pathetic +mouth, and sought to draw her out. +But her questions soon led to unfortunate +results.</p> + +<p>"You are going to college, I suppose?" +she presently inquired; and Vivian owned +that it was the desire of her heart.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said her father. "Stuff and +nonsense, Vivian! You're not going to college."</p> + +<p>The Foote girls now burst forth in voluble +agreement with Mr. Lane. His wife +was evidently of the same mind; and Mrs. +Williams plainly regretted her question. +But Vivian mustered courage enough to +make a stand, strengthened perhaps by the +depth of the feeling which had brought her +into the room.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why you're all so down on +a girl's going to college. Eve Marks has +gone, and Mary Spring is going—and both +the Austin girls. Everybody goes now."</p> + +<p>"I know one girl that won't," was her +father's incisive comment, and her mother<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> +said quietly, "A girl's place is at home—'till +she marries."</p> + +<p>"Suppose I don't want to marry?" said +Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense," her father answered. +"Marriage is a woman's duty."</p> + +<p>"What do you want to do?" asked Miss +Josie in the interests of further combat. +"Do you want to be a doctor, like Jane +Bellair?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to very much indeed," said +the girl with quiet intensity. "I'd like to +be a doctor in a babies' hospital."</p> + +<p>"More nonsense," said Mr. Lane. "Don't +talk to me about that woman! You attend +to your studies, and then to your home +duties, my dear."</p> + +<p>The talk rose anew, the three sisters contriving +all to agree with Mr. Lane in his +opinions about college, marriage and Dr. +Bellair, yet to disagree violently among +themselves.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Williams rose to go, and in the lull +that followed the liquid note of a whippoorwill +met the girl's quick ear. She quietly +slipped out, unnoticed.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p> + +<p>The Lane's home stood near the outer +edge of the town, with an outlook across +wide meadows and soft wooded hills. Behind, +their long garden backed on that of +Miss Orella Elder, with a connecting gate +in the gray board fence. Mrs. Lane had +grown up here. The house belonged to her +mother, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, though +that able lady was seldom in it, preferring +to make herself useful among two growing +sets of grandchildren.</p> + +<p>Miss Elder was Vivian's favorite teacher. +She was a careful and conscientious instructor, +and the girl was a careful and conscientious +scholar; so they got on admirably +together; indeed, there was a real affection +between them. And just as the young +Laura Pettigrew had played with the +younger Orella Elder, so Vivian had played +with little Susie Elder, Miss Orella's orphan +niece. Susie regarded the older girl with +worshipful affection, which was not at all +unpleasant to an emotional young creature +with unemotional parents, and no brothers +or sisters of her own.</p> + +<p>Moreover, Susie was Morton's sister.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span></p> + +<p>The whippoorwill's cry sounded again +through the soft June night. Vivian came +quickly down the garden path between the +bordering beds of sweet alyssum and mignonette. +A dew-wet rose brushed against +her hand. She broke it off, pricking her +fingers, and hastily fastened it in the bosom +of her white frock.</p> + +<p>Large old lilac bushes hung over the dividing +fence, a thick mass of honeysuckle +climbed up by the gate and mingled with +them, spreading over to a pear tree on the +Lane side. In this fragrant, hidden corner +was a rough seat, and from it a boy's hand +reached out and seized the girl's, drawing her +down beside him. She drew away from him +as far as the seat allowed.</p> + +<p>"Oh Morton!" she said. "What have you +done?"</p> + +<p>Morton was sulky.</p> + +<p>"Now Vivian, are you down on me too? +I thought I had one friend."</p> + +<p>"You ought to tell me," she said more +gently. "How can I be your friend if I don't +know the facts? They are saying perfectly +awful things."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who are?"</p> + +<p>"Why—the Foote girls—everybody."</p> + +<p>"Oh those old maids aren't everybody, I +assure you. You see, Vivian, you live right +here in this old oyster of a town—and you +make mountains out of molehills like everybody +else. A girl of your intelligence ought +to know better."</p> + +<p>She drew a great breath of relief. "Then +you haven't—done it?"</p> + +<p>"Done what? What's all this mysterious +talk anyhow? The prisoner has a right to +know what he's charged with before he commits +himself."</p> + +<p>The girl was silent, finding it difficult to +begin.</p> + +<p>"Well, out with it. What do they say I +did?" He picked up a long dry twig and +broke it, gradually, into tiny, half-inch bits.</p> + +<p>"They say you—went to the city—with a +lot of the worst boys in college——"</p> + +<p>"Well? Many persons go to the city +every day. That's no crime, surely. As for +'the worst boys in college,'"—he laughed +scornfully—"I suppose those old ladies +think if a fellow smokes a cigarette or says<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> +'darn' he's a tough. They're mighty nice +fellows, that bunch—most of 'em. Got some +ginger in 'em, that's all. What else?"</p> + +<p>"They say—you drank."</p> + +<p>"O ho! Said I got drunk, I warrant! +Well—we did have a skate on that time, I +admit!" And he laughed as if this charge +were but a familiar joke.</p> + +<p>"Why Morton Elder! I think it is a—disgrace!"</p> + +<p>"Pshaw, Vivian!—You ought to have +more sense. All the fellows get gay once in +a while. A college isn't a young ladies' +seminary."</p> + +<p>He reached out and got hold of her hand +again, but she drew it away.</p> + +<p>"There was something else," she said.</p> + +<p>"What was it?" he questioned sharply. +"What did they say?"</p> + +<p>But she would not satisfy him—perhaps +could not.</p> + +<p>"I should think you'd be ashamed, to make +your aunt so much trouble. They said you +were suspended—or—<i>expelled</i>!"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his big shoulders and threw +away the handful of broken twigs.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's true enough—I might as well admit +that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>Morton</i>!—I didn't believe it. <i>Expelled!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, expelled—turned down—thrown +out—fired! And I'm glad of it." He +leaned back against the fence and whistled +very softly through his teeth.</p> + +<p>"Sh! Sh!" she urged. "Please!"</p> + +<p>He was quiet.</p> + +<p>"But Morton—what are you going to do?—Won't +it spoil your career?"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear little girl, it will not!" said +he. "On the contrary, it will be the making +of me. I tell you, Vivian, I'm sick to death +of this town of maiden ladies—and 'good +family men.' I'm sick of being fussed over +for ever and ever, and having wristers and +mufflers knitted for me—and being told to +put on my rubbers! There's no fun in this +old clamshell—this kitchen-midden of a town—and +I'm going to quit it."</p> + +<p>He stood up and stretched his long arms. +"I'm going to quit it for good and all."</p> + +<p>The girl sat still, her hands gripping the +seat on either side.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" she asked in a +low voice.</p> + +<p>"I'm going west—clear out west. I've +been talking with Aunt Rella about it. Dr. +Bellair'll help me to a job, she thinks. She's +awful cut up, of course. I'm sorry she feels +bad—but she needn't, I tell her. I shall do +better there than I ever should have here. +I know a fellow that left college—his father +failed—and he went into business and made +two thousand dollars in a year. I always +wanted to take up business—you know +that!"</p> + +<p>She knew it—he had talked of it freely +before they had argued and persuaded him +into the college life. She knew, too, how +his aunt's hopes all centered in him, and in +his academic honors and future professional +life. "Business," to his aunt's mind, was a +necessary evil, which could at best be undertaken +only after a "liberal education."</p> + +<p>"When are you going," she asked at +length.</p> + +<p>"Right off—to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She gave a little gasp.</p> + +<p>"That's what I was whippoorwilling about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span>—I +knew I'd get no other chance to talk to +you—I wanted to say good-by, you know."</p> + +<p>The girl sat silent, struggling not to cry. +He dropped beside her, stole an arm about +her waist, and felt her tremble.</p> + +<p>"Now, Viva, don't you go and cry! I'm +sorry—I really am sorry—to make <i>you</i> feel +bad."</p> + +<p>This was too much for her, and she sobbed +frankly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Morton! How could you! How +could you!—And now you've got to go +away!"</p> + +<p>"There now—don't cry—sh!—they'll hear +you."</p> + +<p>She did hush at that.</p> + +<p>"And don't feel so bad—I'll come back +some time—to see you."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't!" she answered with sudden +fierceness. "You'll just go—and stay—and +I never shall see you again!"</p> + +<p>He drew her closer to him. "And do you +care—so much—Viva?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I care!" she said, "Haven't +we always been friends, the best of friends?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—you and Aunt Rella have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> +about all I had," he admitted with a cheerful +laugh. "I hope I'll make more friends out +yonder. But Viva,"—his hand pressed +closer—"is it only—friends?"</p> + +<p>She took fright at once and drew +away from him. "You mustn't do that, +Morton!"</p> + +<p>"Do what?" A shaft of moonlight shone +on his teasing face. "What am I doing?" +he said.</p> + +<p>It is difficult—it is well nigh impossible—for +a girl to put a name to certain small cuddlings +not in themselves terrifying, nor even +unpleasant, but which she obscurely feels to +be wrong.</p> + +<p>Viva flushed and was silent—he could see +the rich color flood her face.</p> + +<p>"Come now—don't be hard on a fellow!" +he urged. "I shan't see you again in ever so +long. You'll forget all about me before a +year's over."</p> + +<p>She shook her head, still silent.</p> + +<p>"Won't you speak to me—Viva?"</p> + +<p>"I wish——" She could not find the +words she wanted. "Oh, I wish you—wouldn't!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wouldn't what, Girlie? Wouldn't go +away? Sorry to disoblige—but I have to. +There's no place for me here."</p> + +<p>The girl felt the sad truth of that.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Rella will get used to it after a +while. I'll write to her—I'll make lots of +money—and come back in a few years—astonish +you all!—Meanwhile—kiss me good-by, +Viva!"</p> + +<p>She drew back shyly. She had never +kissed him. She had never in her life kissed +any man younger than an uncle.</p> + +<p>"No, Morton—you mustn't——" She +shrank away into the shadow.</p> + +<p>But, there was no great distance to shrink +to, and his strong arms soon drew her close +again.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you never see me again," he +said. "Then you'll wish you hadn't been so +stiff about it."</p> + +<p>She thought of this dread possibility with +a sudden chill of horror, and while she hesitated, +he took her face between her hands +and kissed her on the mouth.</p> + +<p>Steps were heard coming down the +path.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span></p> + +<p>"They're on," he said with a little laugh. +"Good-by, Viva!"</p> + +<p>He vaulted the fence and was gone.</p> + +<p>"What are you doing here, Vivian?" demanded +her father.</p> + +<p>"I was saying good-by to Morton," she +answered with a sob.</p> + +<p>"You ought to be ashamed of yourself—philandering +out here in the middle of the +night with that scapegrace! Come in the +house and go to bed at once—it's ten +o'clock."</p> + +<p>Bowing to this confused but almost +equally incriminating chronology, she followed +him in, meekly enough as to her outward +seeming, but inwardly in a state of +stormy tumult.</p> + +<p>She had been kissed!</p> + +<p>Her father's stiff back before her could +not blot out the radiant, melting moonlight, +the rich sweetness of the flowers, the tender, +soft, June night.</p> + +<p>"You go to bed," said he once more. "I'm +ashamed of you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father," she answered.</p> + +<p>Her little room, when at last she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> +safely in it and had shut the door and put a +chair against it—she had no key—seemed +somehow changed.</p> + +<p>She lit the lamp and stood looking at herself +in the mirror. Her eyes were star-bright. +Her cheeks flamed softly. Her mouth looked +guilty and yet glad.</p> + +<p>She put the light out and went to the +window, kneeling there, leaning out in the +fragrant stillness, trying to arrange in her +mind this mixture of grief, disapproval, +shame and triumph.</p> + +<p>When the Episcopal church clock struck +eleven, she went to bed in guilty haste, but +not to sleep.</p> + +<p>For a long time she lay there watching +the changing play of moonlight on the floor.</p> + +<p>She felt almost as if she were married.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>BAINVILLE EFFECTS.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lockstep, handcuffs, ankle-ball-and-chain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dulltoil and dreary food and drink;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Small cell, cold cell, narrow bed and hard;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">High wall, thick wall, window iron-barred;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Stone-paved, stone-pent little prison yard—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young hearts weary of monotony and pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Young hearts weary of reiterant refrain:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"They say—they do—what will people think?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>At the two front windows of their +rather crowded little parlor sat +Miss Rebecca and Miss Josie +Foote, Miss Sallie being out on a foraging +expedition—marketing, as it were, among +their neighbors to collect fresh food for +thought.</p> + +<p>A tall, slender girl in brown passed on the +opposite walk.</p> + +<p>"I should think Vivian Lane would get +tired of wearing brown," said Miss Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why she should," her sister +promptly protested, "it's a good enough +wearing color, and becoming to her."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span></p> + +<p>"She could afford to have more variety," +said Miss Rebecca. "The Lanes are mean +enough about some things, but I know they'd +like to have her dress better. She'll never +get married in the world."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why not. She's only +twenty-five—and good-looking."</p> + +<p>"Good-looking! That's not everything. +Plenty of girls marry that are not good-looking—and +plenty of good-looking girls +stay single."</p> + +<p>"Plenty of homely ones, too. Rebecca," +said Miss Josie, with meaning. Miss Rebecca +certainly was not handsome. "Going +to the library, of course!" she pursued presently. +"That girl reads all the time."</p> + +<p>"So does her grandmother. I see her going +and coming from that library every day +almost."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well—she reads stories and things +like that. Sallie goes pretty often and she +notices. We use that library enough, goodness +knows, but they are there every day. +Vivian Lane reads the queerest things—doctor's +books and works on pedagoggy."</p> + +<p>"Godgy," said Miss Rebecca, "not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> +goggy." And as her sister ignored this correction, +she continued: "They might as well +have let her go to college when she was so +set on it."</p> + +<p>"College! I don't believe she'd have +learned as much in any college, from what +I hear of 'em, as she has in all this time at +home." The Foote girls had never entertained +a high opinion of extensive culture.</p> + +<p>"I don't see any use in a girl's studying so +much," said Miss Rebecca with decision.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," agreed Miss Josie. "Men don't +like learned women."</p> + +<p>"They don't seem to always like those +that aren't learned, either," remarked Miss +Rebecca with a pleasant sense of retribution +for that remark about "homely ones."</p> + +<p>The tall girl in brown had seen the two +faces at the windows opposite, and had held +her shoulders a little straighter as she turned +the corner.</p> + +<p>"Nine years this Summer since Morton +Elder went West," murmured Miss Josie, +reminiscently. "I shouldn't wonder if Vivian +had stayed single on his account."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" her sister answered sharply.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> +"She's not that kind. She's not popular +with men, that's all. She's too intellectual."</p> + +<p>"She ought to be in the library instead of +Sue Elder," Miss Rebecca suggested. "She's +far more competent. Sue's a feather-headed +little thing."</p> + +<p>"She seems to give satisfaction so far. +If the trustees are pleased with her, there's +no reason for you to complain that I see," +said Miss Rebecca with decision.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Vivian Lane waited at the library desk +with an armful of books to take home. She +had her card, her mother's and her father's—all +utilized. Her grandmother kept her +own card—and her own counsel.</p> + +<p>The pretty assistant librarian, withdrawing +herself with some emphasis from the +unnecessary questions of a too gallant old +gentleman, came to attend her.</p> + +<p>"You <i>have</i> got a load," she said, scribbling +complex figures with one end of her hammer-headed +pencil, and stamping violet dates +with the other. She whisked out the pale +blue slips from the lid pockets, dropped +them into their proper openings in the desk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> +and inserted the cards in their stead with +delicate precision.</p> + +<p>"Can't you wait a bit and go home +with me?" she asked. "I'll help you carry +them."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks. I'm not going right +home."</p> + +<p>"You're going to see your Saint—I +know!" said Miss Susie, tossing her bright +head. "I'm jealous, and you know it."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a goose, Susie! You know +you're my very best friend, but—she's different."</p> + +<p>"I should think she was different!" Susie +sharply agreed. "And you've been 'different' +ever since she came."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said Vivian gravely. "Mrs. +St. Cloud brings out one's very best and +highest. I wish you liked her better, Susie."</p> + +<p>"I like you," Susie answered. "You bring +out my 'best and highest'—if I've got any. +She don't. She's like a lovely, faint, bright—bubble! +I want to prick it!"</p> + +<p>Vivian smiled down upon her.</p> + +<p>"You bad little mouse!" she said. "Come, +give me the books."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span></p> + +<p>"Leave them with me, and I'll bring them +in the car." Susie looked anxious to make +amends for her bit of blasphemy.</p> + +<p>"All right, dear. Thank you. I'll be +home by that time, probably."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>In the street she stopped before a little +shop where papers and magazines were sold.</p> + +<p>"I believe Father'd like the new Centurion," +she said to herself, and got it for him, +chatting a little with the one-armed man who +kept the place. She stopped again at a +small florist's and bought a little bag of +bulbs.</p> + +<p>"Your mother's forgotten about those, I +guess," said Mrs. Crothers, the florist's wife, +"but they'll do just as well now. Lucky you +thought of them before it got too late in +the season. Bennie was awfully pleased with +that red and blue pencil you gave him, Miss +Lane."</p> + +<p>Vivian walked on. A child ran out suddenly +from a gate and seized upon her.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you coming in to see me—ever?" +she demanded.</p> + +<p>Vivian stooped and kissed her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, but not to-night. How's that +dear baby getting on?"</p> + +<p>"She's better," said the little girl. "Mother +said thank you—lots of times. Wait a minute—"</p> + +<p>The child fumbled in Vivian's coat pocket +with a mischievous upward glance, fished out +a handful of peanuts, and ran up the path +laughing while the tall girl smiled down upon +her lovingly.</p> + +<p>A long-legged boy was lounging along +the wet sidewalk. Vivian caught up with +him and he joined her with eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Miss Lane. Say—are +you coming to the club to-morrow +night?"</p> + +<p>She smiled cordially.</p> + +<p>"Of course I am, Johnny. I wouldn't +disappoint my boys for anything—nor myself, +either."</p> + +<p>They walked on together chatting until, +at the minister's house, she bade him a +cheery "good-night."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud was at the window pensively +watching the western sky. She saw +the girl coming and let her in with a tender,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> +radiant smile—a lovely being in a most unlovely +room.</p> + +<p>There was a chill refinement above subdued +confusion in that Cambridge-Bainville +parlor, where the higher culture of the +second Mrs. Williams, superimposed upon +the lower culture of the first, as that upon +the varying tastes of a combined ancestry, +made the place somehow suggestive of excavations +at Abydos.</p> + +<p>It was much the kind of parlor Vivian +had been accustomed to from childhood, +but Mrs. St. Cloud was of a type quite new +to her. Clothed in soft, clinging fabrics, +always with a misty, veiled effect to them, +wearing pale amber, large, dull stones of +uncertain shapes, and slender chains that +glittered here and there among her scarfs +and laces, sinking gracefully among deep +cushions, even able to sink gracefully into +a common Bainville chair—this beautiful +woman had captured the girl's imagination +from the first.</p> + +<p>Clearly known, she was a sister of Mrs. +Williams, visiting indefinitely. Vaguely—and +very frequently—hinted, her husband<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> +had "left her," and "she did not believe in +divorce." Against her background of dumb +patience, he shone darkly forth as A Brute +of unknown cruelties. Nothing against him +would she ever say, and every young masculine +heart yearned to make life brighter to +the Ideal Woman, so strangely neglected; +also some older ones. Her Young Men's +Bible Class was the pride of Mr. Williams' +heart and joy of such young men as the +town possessed; most of Bainville's boys +had gone.</p> + +<p>"A wonderful uplifting influence," Mr. +Williams called her, and refused to say anything, +even when directly approached, as +to "the facts" of her trouble. "It is an old +story," he would say. "She bears up wonderfully. +She sacrifices her life rather than +her principles."</p> + +<p>To Vivian, sitting now on a hassock at +the lady's feet and looking up at her with +adoring eyes, she was indeed a star, a saint, +a cloud of mystery.</p> + +<p>She reached out a soft hand, white, slender, +delicately kept, wearing one thin gold +ring, and stroked the girl's smooth hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> +Vivian seized the hand and kissed it, blushing +as she did so.</p> + +<p>"You foolish child! Don't waste your +young affection on an old lady like me."</p> + +<p>"Old! You! You don't look as old as I +do this minute!" said the girl with hushed +intensity.</p> + +<p>"Life wears on you, I'm afraid, my dear.... +Do you ever hear from him?"</p> + +<p>To no one else, not even to Susie, could +Vivian speak of what now seemed the +tragedy of her lost youth.</p> + +<p>"No," said she. "Never now. He did +write once or twice—at first."</p> + +<p>"He writes to his aunt, of course?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vivian. "But not often. +And he never—says anything."</p> + +<p>"I understand. Poor child! You must +be true, and wait." And the lady turned +the thin ring on her finger. Vivian watched +her in a passion of admiring tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you understand!" she exclaimed. +"You understand!"</p> + +<p>"I understand, my dear," said Mrs. St. +Cloud.</p> + +<p>When Vivian reached her own gate she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> +leaned her arms upon it and looked first one +way and then the other, down the long, still +street. The country was in sight at both +ends—the low, monotonous, wooded hills +that shut them in. It was all familiar, wearingly +familiar. She had known it continuously +for such part of her lifetime as was +sensitive to landscape effects, and had at +times a mad wish for an earthquake to +change the outlines a little.</p> + +<p>The infrequent trolley car passed just +then and Sue Elder joined her, to take the +short cut home through the Lane's yard.</p> + +<p>"Here you are," she said cheerfully, "and +here are the books."</p> + +<p>Vivian thanked her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, say—come in after supper, can't +you? Aunt Rella's had another letter from +Mort."</p> + +<p>Vivian's sombre eyes lit up a little.</p> + +<p>"How's he getting on? In the same business +he was last year?" she asked with an +elaborately cheerful air. Morton had +seemed to change occupations oftener than +he wrote letters.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe so. I guess he's well. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> +never says much, you know. I don't think +it's good for him out there—good for any +boy." And Susie looked quite the older +sister.</p> + +<p>"What are they to do? They can't stay +here."</p> + +<p>"No, I suppose not—but we have to."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair didn't," remarked Vivian. +"I like her—tremendously, don't you?" In +truth, Dr. Bellair was already a close second +to Mrs. St. Cloud in the girl's hero-worshipping +heart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; she's splendid! Aunt Rella is +so glad to have her with us. They have +great times recalling their school days together. +Aunty used to like her then, though +she is five years older—but you'd never +dream it. And I think she's real handsome."</p> + +<p>"She's not beautiful," said Vivian, with +decision, "but she's a lot better. Sue Elder, +I wish——"</p> + +<p>"Wish what?" asked her friend.</p> + +<p>Sue put the books on the gate-post, and +the two girls, arm in arm, walked slowly up +and down.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span></p> + +<p>Susie was a round, palely rosy little person, +with a delicate face and soft, light hair +waving fluffily about her small head. Vivian's +hair was twice the length, but so straight +and fine that its mass had no effect. She +wore it in smooth plaits wound like a wreath +from brow to nape.</p> + +<p>After an understanding silence and a walk +past three gates and back again, Vivian +answered her.</p> + +<p>"I wish I were in your shoes," she said.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—having the Doctor +in the house?"</p> + +<p>"No—I'd like that too; but I mean work +to do—your position."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the library! You needn't; it's horrid. +I wish I were in your shoes, and had +a father and mother to take care of me. I +can tell you, it's no fun—having to be there +just on time or get fined, and having to poke +away all day with those phooty old ladies +and tiresome children."</p> + +<p>"But you're independent."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I'm independent. I have to be. +Aunt Rella <i>could</i> take care of me, I suppose, +but of course I wouldn't let her. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> +I dare say library work is better than school-teaching."</p> + +<p>"What'll we be doing when we're forty, +I wonder?" said Vivian, after another turn.</p> + +<p>"Forty! Why I expect to be a grandma +by that time," said Sue. She was but +twenty-one, and forty looked a long way off +to her.</p> + +<p>"A grandma! And knit?" suggested +Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—baby jackets—and blankets—and +socks—and little shawls. I love to +knit," said Sue, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"But suppose you don't marry?" pursued +her friend.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I shall marry—you see if I don't. +Marriage"—here she carefully went inside +the gate and latched it—"marriage is—a +woman's duty!" And she ran up the path +laughing.</p> + +<p>Vivian laughed too, rather grimly, and +slowly walked towards her own door.</p> + +<p>The little sitting-room was hot, very hot; +but Mr. Lane sat with his carpet-slippered +feet on its narrow hearth with a shawl around +him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span></p> + +<p>"Shut the door, Vivian!" he exclaimed +irritably. "I'll never get over this cold if +such draughts are let in on me."</p> + +<p>"Why, it's not cold out, Father—and it's +very close in here."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lane looked up from her darning. +"You think it's close because you've come +in from outdoors. Sit down—and don't fret +your father; I'm real worried about +him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Lane coughed hollowly. He had become +a little dry old man with gray, glassy +eyes, and had been having colds in this +fashion ever since Vivian could remember.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair says that the out-door air is +the best medicine for a cold," remarked Vivian, +as she took off her things.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair has not been consulted in this +case," her father returned wheezingly. "I'm +quite satisfied with my family physician. +He's a man, at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Save me from these women doctors!" +exclaimed his wife.</p> + +<p>Vivian set her lips patiently. She had +long since learned how widely she differed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> +from both father and mother, and preferred +silence to dispute.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lane was a plain, ordinary person, +who spent most of a moderately useful life +in the shoe business, from which he had of +late withdrawn. Both he and his wife "had +property" to a certain extent; and now lived +peacefully on their income with neither fear +nor hope, ambition nor responsibility to +trouble them. The one thing they were yet +anxious about was to see Vivian married, +but this wish seemed to be no nearer to fulfillment +for the passing years.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what the women are thinking +of, these days," went on the old gentleman, +putting another shovelful of coal on the +fire with a careful hand. "Doctors and lawyers +and even ministers, some of 'em! The +Lord certainly set down a woman's duty +pretty plain—she was to cleave unto her +husband!"</p> + +<p>"Some women have no husbands to cleave +to, Father."</p> + +<p>"They'd have husbands fast enough if +they'd behave themselves," he answered. +"No man's going to want to marry one of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> +these self-sufficient independent, professional +women, of course."</p> + +<p>"I do hope, Viva," said her mother, "that +you're not letting that Dr. Bellair put foolish +ideas into your head."</p> + +<p>"I want to do something to support myself—sometime, +Mother. I can't live on my +parents forever."</p> + +<p>"You be patient, child. There's money +enough for you to live on. It's a woman's +place to wait," put in Mr. Lane.</p> + +<p>"How long?" inquired Vivian. "I'm +twenty-five. No man has asked me to marry +him yet. Some of the women in this town +have waited thirty—forty—fifty—sixty +years. No one has asked them."</p> + +<p>"I was married at sixteen," suddenly remarked +Vivian's grandmother. "And my +mother wasn't but fifteen. Huh!" A sudden +little derisive noise she made; such as +used to be written "humph!"</p> + +<p>For the past five years, Mrs. Pettigrew +had made her home with the Lanes. Mrs. +Lane herself was but a feeble replica of her +energetic parent. There was but seventeen +years difference in their ages, and compara<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span>tive +idleness with some ill-health on the part +of the daughter, had made the difference +appear less.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew had but a poor opinion of +the present generation. In her active youth +she had reared a large family on a small income; +in her active middle-age, she had +trotted about from daughter's house to son's +house, helping with the grandchildren. And +now she still trotted about in all weathers, +visiting among the neighbors and vibrating +as regularly as a pendulum between her +daughter's house and the public library.</p> + +<p>The books she brought home were mainly +novels, and if she perused anything else in +the severe quiet of the reading-room, she +did not talk about it. Indeed, it was a +striking characteristic of Mrs. Pettigrew +that she talked very little, though she listened +to all that went on with a bright and +beady eye, as of a highly intelligent parrot. +And now, having dropped her single remark +into the conversation, she shut her lips tight +as was her habit, and drew another ball of +worsted from the black bag that always +hung at her elbow.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span></p> + +<p>She was making one of those perennial +knitted garments, which, in her young days, +were called "Cardigan jackets," later "Jerseys," +and now by the offensive name of +"sweater." These she constructed in great +numbers, and their probable expense was +a source of discussion in the town. "How +do you find friends enough to give them to?" +they asked her, and she would smile enigmatically +and reply, "Good presents make +good friends."</p> + +<p>"If a woman minds her P's and Q's she +can get a husband easy enough," insisted the +invalid. "Just shove that lamp nearer, Vivian, +will you."</p> + +<p>Vivian moved the lamp. Her mother +moved her chair to follow it and dropped +her darning egg, which the girl handed to +her.</p> + +<p>"Supper's ready," announced a hard-featured +middle-aged woman, opening the dining-room +door.</p> + +<p>At this moment the gate clicked, and a +firm step was heard coming up the path.</p> + +<p>"Gracious, that's the minister!" cried Mrs. +Lane. "He said he'd be in this afternoon if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> +he got time. I thought likely 'twould be to +supper."</p> + +<p>She received him cordially, and insisted +on his staying, slipping out presently to +open a jar of quinces.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Otis Williams was by no +means loathe to take occasional meals with +his parishioners. It was noted that, in making +pastoral calls, he began with the poorer +members of his flock, and frequently arrived +about meal-time at the houses of those whose +cooking he approved.</p> + +<p>"It is always a treat to take supper here," +he said. "Not feeling well, Mr. Lane? I'm +sorry to hear it. Ah! Mrs. Pettigrew! Is +that jacket for me, by any chance? A little +sombre, isn't it? Good evening, Vivian. +You are looking well—as you always do."</p> + +<p>Vivian did not like him. He had married +her mother, he had christened her, she had +"sat under" him for long, dull, uninterrupted +years; yet still she didn't like him.</p> + +<p>"A chilly evening, Mr. Lane," he pursued.</p> + +<p>"That's what I say," his host agreed. +"Vivian says it isn't; I say it is."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span></p> + +<p>"Disagreement in the family! This won't +do, Vivian," said the minister jocosely. +"Duty to parents, you know! Duty to +parents!"</p> + +<p>"Does duty to parents alter the temperature?" +the girl asked, in a voice of quiet +sweetness, yet with a rebellious spark in her +soft eyes.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said her grandmother—and +dropped her gray ball. Vivian picked it up +and the old lady surreptitiously patted her.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," said the reverend gentleman +to Mrs. Pettigrew, "did you speak?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the old lady, "Seldom do."</p> + +<p>"Silence is golden, Mrs. Pettigrew. Silence +is golden. Speech is silver, but silence +is golden. It is a rare gift."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew set her lips so tightly that +they quite disappeared, leaving only a thin +dented line in her smoothly pale face. She +was called by the neighbors "wonderfully +well preserved," a phrase she herself despised. +Some visitor, new to the town, had +the hardihood to use it to her face once. +"Huh!" was the response. "I'm just +sixty. Henry Haskins and George Baker<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> +and Stephen Doolittle are all older'n I am—and +still doing business, doing it better'n any +of the young folks as far as I can see. You +don't compare them to canned pears, do +you?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Williams knew her value in church +work, and took no umbrage at her somewhat +inimical expression; particularly as just +then Mrs. Lane appeared and asked them to +walk out to supper.</p> + +<p>Vivian sat among them, restrained and +courteous, but inwardly at war with her +surroundings. Here was her mother, busy, +responsible, serving creamed codfish and hot +biscuit; her father, eating wheezily, and +finding fault with the biscuit, also with the +codfish; her grandmother, bright-eyed, thin-lipped +and silent. Vivian got on well with +her grandmother, though neither of them +talked much.</p> + +<p>"My mother used to say that the perfect +supper was cake, preserves, hot bread, and +a 'relish,'" said Mr. Williams genially. "You +have the perfect supper, Mrs. Lane."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad if you enjoy it, I'm sure," said +that lady. "I'm fond of a bit of salt myself."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span></p> + +<p>"And what are you reading now, Vivian," +he asked paternally.</p> + +<p>"Ward," she answered, modestly and +briefly.</p> + +<p>"Ward? Dr. Ward of the <i>Centurion</i>?"</p> + +<p>Vivian smiled her gentlest.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," she replied; "Lester F. Ward, +the Sociologist."</p> + +<p>"Poor stuff, I think!" said her father. +"Girls have no business to read such things."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd speak to Vivian about it, +Mr. Williams. She's got beyond me," protested +her mother.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "I'd like +some more of that quince, Laura."</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady, you are not reading +books of which your parents disapprove, I +hope?" urged the minister.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't I—ever?" asked the girl, in +her soft, disarming manner. "I'm surely +old enough!"</p> + +<p>"The duty of a daughter is not measured +by years," he replied sonorously. "Does +parental duty cease? Are you not yet a +child in your father's house?"</p> + +<p>"Is a daughter always a child if she lives<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> +at home?" inquired the girl, as one seeking +instruction.</p> + +<p>He set down his cup and wiped his lips, +flushing somewhat.</p> + +<p>"The duty of a daughter begins at the +age when she can understand the distinction +between right and wrong," he said, "and +continues as long as she is blessed with +parents."</p> + +<p>"And what is it?" she asked, large-eyed, +attentive.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he repeated, looking at her +in some surprise. "It is submission, obedience—obedience."</p> + +<p>"I see. So Mother ought to obey Grandmother," +she pursued meditatively, and Mrs. +Pettigrew nearly choked in her tea.</p> + +<p>Vivian was boiling with rebellion. To sit +there and be lectured at the table, to have +her father complain of her, her mother invite +pastoral interference, the minister +preach like that. She slapped her grandmother's +shoulder, readjusted the little knit +shawl on the straight back—and refrained +from further speech.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Pettigrew could talk, she de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span>manded +suddenly of the minister, "Have +you read Campbell's New Theology?" and +from that on they were all occupied in listening +to Mr. Williams' strong, clear and +extensive views on the subject—which lasted +into the parlor again.</p> + +<p>Vivian sat for awhile in the chair nearest +the window, where some thin thread of air +might possibly leak in, and watched the +minister with a curious expression. All her +life he had been held up to her as a person +to honor, as a man of irreproachable character, +great learning and wisdom. Of late +she found with a sense of surprise that she +did not honor him at all. He seemed to her +suddenly like a relic of past ages, a piece of +an old parchment—or papyrus. In the light +of the studies she had been pursuing in the +well-stored town library, the teachings of +this worthy old gentleman appeared a jumble +of age-old traditions, superimposed one +upon another.</p> + +<p>"He's a palimpsest," she said to herself, +"and a poor palimpsest at that."</p> + +<p>She sat with her shapely hands quiet in +her lap while her grandmother's shining<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> +needles twinkled in the dark wool, and her +mother's slim crochet hook ran along the +widening spaces of some thin, white, fuzzy +thing. The rich powers of her young womanhood +longed for occupation, but she +could never hypnotize herself with "fancywork." +Her work must be worth while. She +felt the crushing cramp and loneliness of a +young mind, really stronger than those about +her, yet held in dumb subjection. She could +not solace herself by loving them; her father +would have none of it, and her mother had +small use for what she called "sentiment." +All her life Vivian had longed for more loving, +both to give and take; but no one ever +imagined it of her, she was so quiet and repressed +in manner. The local opinion was +that if a woman had a head, she could not +have a heart; and as to having a body—it +was indelicate to consider such a thing.</p> + +<p>"I mean to have six children," Vivian had +planned when she was younger. "And they +shall never be hungry for more loving." She +meant to make up to her vaguely imagined +future family for all that her own youth +missed.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span></p> + +<p>Even Grandma, though far more sympathetic +in temperament, was not given to +demonstration, and Vivian solaced her big, +tender heart by cuddling all the babies she +could reach, and petting cats and dogs when +no children were to be found.</p> + +<p>Presently she arose and bade a courteous +goodnight to the still prolix parson.</p> + +<p>"I'm going over to Sue's," she said, and +went out.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>There was a moon again—a low, large +moon, hazily brilliant. The air was sweet +with the odors of scarce-gone Summer, of +coming Autumn.</p> + +<p>The girl stood still, half-way down the +path, and looked steadily into that silver +radiance. Moonlight always filled her heart +with a vague excitement, a feeling that +something ought to happen—soon.</p> + +<p>This flat, narrow life, so long, so endlessly +long—would nothing ever end it? +Nine years since Morton went away! Nine +years since the strange, invading thrill of +her first kiss! Back of that was only childhood; +these years really constituted Life;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> +and Life, in the girl's eyes, was a dreary +treadmill.</p> + +<p>She was externally quiet, and by conscience +dutiful; so dutiful, so quiet, so without +powers of expression, that the ache of +an unsatisfied heart, the stir of young ambitions, +were wholly unsuspected by those +about her. A studious, earnest, thoughtful +girl—but study alone does not supply life's +needs, nor does such friendship as her life +afforded.</p> + +<p>Susie was "a dear"—Susie was Morton's +sister, and she was very fond of her. But +that bright-haired child did not understand—could +not understand—all that she needed.</p> + +<p>Then came Mrs. St. Cloud into her life, +stirring the depths of romance, of the buried +past, and of the unborn future. From her +she learned to face a life of utter renunciation, +to be true, true to her ideals, true to +her principles, true to the past, to be patient; +and to wait.</p> + +<p>So strengthened, she had turned a deaf +ear to such possible voice of admiration as +might have come from the scant membership +of the Young Men's Bible Class, leav<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span>ing +them the more devoted to Scripture +study. There was no thin ring to turn upon +her finger; but, for lack of better token, she +had saved the rose she wore upon her breast +that night, keeping it hidden among her +precious things.</p> + +<p>And then, into the gray, flat current of +her daily life, sharply across the trend of +Mrs. St. Cloud's soft influence, had come +a new force—Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Vivian liked her, yet felt afraid, a slight, +shivering hesitancy as before a too cold +bath, a subtle sense that this breezy woman, +strong, cheerful, full of new ideas, if not +ideals, and radiating actual power, power +used and enjoyed, might in some way change +the movement of her life.</p> + +<p>Change she desired, she longed for, but +dreaded the unknown.</p> + +<p>Slowly she followed the long garden path, +paused lingeringly by that rough garden +seat, went through and closed the gate.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>THE OUTBREAK</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There comes a time<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After white months of ice—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Slow months of ice—long months of ice—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There comes a time when the still floods below<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Rise, lift, and overflow—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fast, far they go.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Miss Orella sat in her low armless +rocker, lifting perplexed, patient +eyes to look up at Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair stood squarely before her, +stood easily, on broad-soled, low-heeled +shoes, and looked down at Miss Orella; her +eyes were earnest, compelling, full of hope +and cheer.</p> + +<p>"You are as pretty as a girl, Orella," she +observed irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella blushed. She was not used to +compliments, even from a woman, and did +not know how to take them.</p> + +<p>"How you talk!" she murmured shyly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span></p> + +<p>"I mean to talk," continued the doctor, +"until you listen to reason."</p> + +<p>Reason in this case, to Dr. Bellair's mind, +lay in her advice to Miss Elder to come +West with her—to live.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I can. It's—it's such a +Complete Change."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella spoke as if Change were +equivalent to Sin, or at least to Danger.</p> + +<p>"Do you good. As a physician, I can +prescribe nothing better. You need a complete +change if anybody ever did."</p> + +<p>"Why, Jane! I am quite well."</p> + +<p>"I didn't say you were sick. But you are +in an advanced stage of <i>arthritis deformans</i> +of the soul. The whole town's got it!"</p> + +<p>The doctor tramped up and down the little +room, freeing her mind.</p> + +<p>"I never saw such bed-ridden intellects in +my life! I suppose it was so when I was a +child—and I was too young to notice it. But +surely it's worse now. The world goes faster +and faster every day, the people who keep +still get farther behind! I'm fond of you, +Rella. You've got an intellect, and a conscience, +and a will—a will like iron. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> +you spend most of your strength in keeping +yourself down. Now, do wake up and use +it to break loose! You don't have to stay +here. Come out to Colorado with me—and +Grow."</p> + +<p>Miss Elder moved uneasily in her chair. +She laid her small embroidery hoop on the +table, and straightened out the loose threads +of silk, the doctor watching her impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I'm too old," she said at length.</p> + +<p>Jane Bellair laughed aloud, shortly.</p> + +<p>"Old!" she cried. "You're five years +younger than I am. You're only thirty-six! +Old! Why, child, your life's before you—to +make."</p> + +<p>"You don't realize, Jane. You struck +out for yourself so young—and you've +grown up out there—it seems to be so different—there."</p> + +<p>"It is. People aren't afraid to move. +What have you got here you so hate to leave, +Rella?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's—Home."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It's home—now. Are you happy +in it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm—contented."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't you deceive yourself, Rella. You +are not contented—not by a long chalk. +You are doing your duty as you see it; and +you've kept yourself down so long you've +almost lost the power of motion. I'm trying +to galvanize you awake—and I mean to +do it."</p> + +<p>"You might as well sit down while you're +doing it, anyway," Miss Elder suggested +meekly.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair sat down, selecting a formidable +fiddle-backed chair, the unflinching determination +of its widely-placed feet being +repeated by her own square toes. She +placed herself in front of her friend and +leaned forward, elbows on knees, her strong, +intelligent hands clasped loosely.</p> + +<p>"What have you got to look forward to, +Rella?"</p> + +<p>"I want to see Susie happily married—"</p> + +<p>"I said <i>you</i>—not Susie."</p> + +<p>"Oh—me? Why, I hope some day Morton +will come back——"</p> + +<p>"I said <i>you</i>—not Morton."</p> + +<p>"Why I—you know I have friends, Jane<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> +—and neighbors. And some day, perhaps—I +mean to go abroad."</p> + +<p>"Are you scolding Aunt Rella again, Dr. +Bellair. I won't stand it." Pretty Susie +stood in the door smiling.</p> + +<p>"Come and help me then," the doctor said, +"and it won't sound so much like scolding."</p> + +<p>"I want Mort's letter—to show to Viva," +the girl answered, and slipped out with it.</p> + +<p>She sat with Vivian on the stiff little sofa +in the back room; the arms of the two girls +were around one another, and they read the +letter together. More than six months had +passed since his last one.</p> + +<p>It was not much of a letter. Vivian took +it in her own hands and went through it +again, carefully. The "Remember me to +Viva—unless she's married," at the end did +not seem at all satisfying. Still it might +mean more than appeared—far more. Men +were reticent and proud, she had read. It +was perfectly possible that he might be concealing +deep emotion under the open friendliness. +He was in no condition to speak +freely, to come back and claim her. He did +not wish her to feel bound to him. She had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> +discussed it with Mrs. St. Cloud, shrinkingly, +tenderly, led on by tactful, delicate, +questions, by the longing of her longing +heart for expression and sympathy.</p> + +<p>"A man who cannot marry must speak of +marriage—it is not honorable," her friend +had told her.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't he—write to me—as a +friend?"</p> + +<p>And the low-voiced lady had explained +with a little sigh that men thought little of +friendship with women. "I have tried, all +my life, to be a true and helpful friend to +men, to such men as seemed worthy, and +they so often—misunderstood."</p> + +<p>The girl, sympathetic and admiring, +thought hotly of how other people misunderstood +this noble, lovely soul; how they +even hinted that she "tried to attract men," +a deadly charge in Bainville.</p> + +<p>"No," Mrs. St. Cloud had told her, "he +might love you better than all the world—yet +not write to you—till he was ready to +say 'come.' And, of course, he wouldn't say +anything in his letters to his aunt."</p> + +<p>So Vivian sat there, silent, weaving frail<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> +dreams out of "remember me to Viva—unless +she's married." That last clause might +mean much.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair's voice sounded clear and insistent +in the next room.</p> + +<p>"She's trying to persuade Aunt Rella to +go West!" said Susie. "Wouldn't it be +funny if she did!"</p> + +<p>In Susie's eyes her Aunt's age was as the +age of mountains, and also her fixity. Since +she could remember, Aunt Rella, always +palely pretty and neat, like the delicate, +faintly-colored Spring flowers of New England, +had presided over the small white +house, the small green garden and the large +black and white school-room. In her vacation +she sewed, keeping that quiet wardrobe +of hers in exquisite order—and also making +Susie's pretty dresses. To think of Aunt +Orella actually "breaking up housekeeping," +giving up her school, leaving Bainville, was +like a vision of trees walking.</p> + +<p>To Dr. Jane Bellair, forty-one, vigorous, +successful, full of new plans and purposes, +Miss Elder's life appeared as an arrested +girlhood, stagnating unnecessarily in this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> +quiet town, while all the world was open to +her.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't think of leaving Susie!" protested +Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>"Bring her along," said the doctor. "Best +thing in the world for her!"</p> + +<p>She rose and came to the door. The two +girls make a pretty picture. Vivian's oval +face, with its smooth Madonna curves under +the encircling wreath of soft, dark plaits, +and the long grace of her figure, delicately +built, yet strong, beside the pink, plump little +Susie, roguish and pretty, with the look +that made everyone want to take care of her.</p> + +<p>"Come in here, girls," said the doctor. "I +want you to help me. You're young enough +to be movable, I hope."</p> + +<p>They cheerfully joined the controversy, +but Miss Orella found small support in +them.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you do it, Auntie!" Susie +thought it an excellent joke. "I suppose you +could teach school in Denver as well as here. +And you could Vote! Oh, Auntie—to think +of your Voting!"</p> + +<p>Miss Elder, too modestly feminine, too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> +inherently conservative even to be an outspoken +"Anti," fairly blushed at the idea.</p> + +<p>"She's hesitating on your account," Dr. +Bellair explained to the girl. "Wants to +see you safely married! I tell her you'll +have a thousandfold better opportunities in +Colorado than you ever will here."</p> + +<p>Vivian was grieved. She had heard +enough of this getting married, and had expected +Dr. Bellair to hold a different position.</p> + +<p>"Surely, that's not the only thing to do," +she protested.</p> + +<p>"No, but it's a very important thing to +do—and to do right. It's a woman's duty."</p> + +<p>Vivian groaned in spirit. That again!</p> + +<p>The doctor watched her understandingly.</p> + +<p>"If women only did their duty in that line +there wouldn't be so much unhappiness in +the world," she said. "All you New England +girls sit here and cut one another's +throats. You can't possible marry, your +boys go West, you overcrowd the labor market, +lower wages, steadily drive the weakest +sisters down till they—drop."</p> + +<p>They heard the back door latch lift and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> +close again, a quick, decided step—and Mrs. +Pettigrew joined them.</p> + +<p>Miss Elder greeted her cordially, and the +old lady seated herself in the halo of the +big lamp, as one well accustomed to the +chair.</p> + +<p>"Go right on," she said—and knitted +briskly.</p> + +<p>"Do take my side, Mrs. Pettigrew," Miss +Orella implored her. "Jane Bellair is trying +to pull me up by the roots and transplant +me to Colorado."</p> + +<p>"And she says I shall have a better chance +to marry out there—and ought to do it!" +said Susie, very solemnly. "And Vivian +objects to being shown the path of duty."</p> + +<p>Vivian smiled. Her quiet, rather sad face +lit with sudden sparkling beauty when she +smiled.</p> + +<p>"Grandma knows I hate that—point of +view," she said. "I think men and women +ought to be friends, and not always be thinking +about—that."</p> + +<p>"I have some real good friends—boys, I +mean," Susie agreed, looking so serious in +her platonic boast that even Vivian was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> +little amused, and Dr. Bellair laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"You won't have a 'friend' in that sense +till you're fifty, Miss Susan—if you ever do. +There can be, there are, real friendships between +men and women, but most of that talk +is—talk, sometimes worse.</p> + +<p>"I knew a woman once, ever so long ago," +the doctor continued musingly, clasping her +hands behind her head, "a long way from +here—in a college town—who talked about +'friends.' She was married. She was a +'good' woman—perfectly 'good' woman. +Her husband was not a very good man, I've +heard, and strangely impatient of her virtues. +She had a string of boys—college +boys—always at her heels. Quite too young +and too charming she was for this friendship +game. She said that such a friendship was +'an ennobling influence' for the boys. She +called them her 'acolytes.' Lots of them +were fairly mad about her—one young chap +was so desperate over it that he shot himself."</p> + +<p>There was a pained silence.</p> + +<p>"I don't see what this has to do with going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> +to Colorado," said Mrs. Pettigrew, looking +from one to the other with a keen, observing +eye. "What's your plan, Dr. Bellair?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I'm trying to persuade my old +friend here to leave this place, change her +occupation, come out to Colorado with me, +and grow up. She's a case of arrested development."</p> + +<p>"She wants me to keep boarders!" Miss +Elder plaintively protested to Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>That lady was not impressed.</p> + +<p>"It's quite a different matter out there, +Mrs. Pettigrew," the doctor explained. +"'Keeping boarders' in this country goes to +the tune of 'Come Ye Disconsolate!' It's a +doubtful refuge for women who are widows +or would be better off if they were. Where +I live it's a sure thing if well managed—it's +a good business."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew wore an unconvinced +aspect.</p> + +<p>"What do you call 'a good business?'" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"The house I have in mind cleared a thousand +a year when it was in right hands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> +That's not bad, over and above one's board +and lodging. That house is in the market +now. I've just had a letter from a friend +about it. Orella could go out with me, and +step right into Mrs. Annerly's shoes—she's +just giving up."</p> + +<p>"What'd she give up for?" Mrs. Pettigrew +inquired suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Oh—she got married; they all do. There +are three men to one woman in that town, +you see."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know there was such a place in +the world—unless it was a man-of-war," remarked +Susie, looking much interested.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair went on more quietly.</p> + +<p>"It's not even a risk, Mrs. Pettigrew. +Rella has a cousin who would gladly run +this house for her. She's admitted that +much. So there's no loss here, and she's got +her home to come back to. I can write to +Dick Hale to nail the proposition at once. +She can go when I go, in about a fortnight, +and I'll guarantee the first year definitely."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't think of letting you do that, +Jane! And if it's as good as you say, there's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> +no need. But a fortnight! To leave home—in +a fortnight!"</p> + +<p>"What are the difficulties?" the old lady +inquired. "There are always some difficulties."</p> + +<p>"You are right, there," agreed the doctor. +"The difficulties in this place are servants. +But just now there's a special chance in that +line. Dick says the best cook in town is +going begging. I'll read you his letter."</p> + +<p>She produced it, promptly, from the +breast pocket of her neat coat. Dr. Bellair +wore rather short, tailored skirts of first-class +material; natty, starched blouses—silk +ones for "dress," and perfectly fitting light +coats. Their color and texture might vary +with the season, but their pockets, never.</p> + +<p>"'My dear Jane' (This is my best friend +out there—a doctor, too. We were in the +same class, both college and medical school. +We fight—he's a misogynist of the worst +type—but we're good friends all the same.) +'Why don't you come back? My boys are +lonesome without you, and I am overworked—you +left so many mishandled invalids for +me to struggle with. Your boarding house<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> +is going to the dogs. Mrs. Annerly got +worse and worse, failed completely and has +cleared out, with a species of husband, I believe. +The owner has put in a sort of caretaker, +and the roomers get board outside—it's +better than what they were having. +Moreover, the best cook in town is hunting +a job. Wire me and I'll nail her. You +know the place pays well. Now, why don't +you give up your unnatural attempt to be +a doctor and assume woman's proper +sphere? Come back and keep house!'</p> + +<p>"He's a great tease, but he tells the truth. +The house is there, crying to be kept. The +boarders are there—unfed. Now, Orella +Elder, why don't you wake up and seize the +opportunity?"</p> + +<p>Miss Orella was thinking.</p> + +<p>"Where's that last letter of Morton's?"</p> + +<p>Susie looked for it. Vivian handed it to +her, and Miss Elder read it once more.</p> + +<p>"There's plenty of homeless boys out there +besides yours, Orella," the doctor assured +her. "Come on—and bring both these girls +with you. It's a chance for any girl, Miss +Lane."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span></p> + +<p>But her friend did not hear her. She +found what she was looking for in the letter +and read it aloud. "I'm on the road again +now, likely to be doing Colorado most of +the year if things go right. It's a fine +country."</p> + +<p>Susie hopped up with a little cry.</p> + +<p>"Just the thing, Aunt Rella! Let's go +out and surprise Mort. He thinks we are +just built into the ground here. Won't it +be fun, Viva?"</p> + +<p>Vivian had risen from her seat and stood +at the window, gazing out with unseeing +eyes at the shadowy little front yard. Morton +might be there. She might see him. But—was +it womanly to go there—for that? +There were other reasons, surely. She had +longed for freedom, for a chance to grow, to +do something in life—something great and +beautiful! Perhaps this was the opening of +the gate, the opportunity of a lifetime.</p> + +<p>"You folks are so strong on duty," the +doctor was saying, "Why can't you see a real +duty in this? I tell you, the place is full of +men that need mothering, and sistering—good +honest sweethearting and marrying,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> +too. Come on, Rella. Do bigger work than +you've ever done yet—and, as I said, bring +both these nice girls with you. What do +you say, Miss Lane?"</p> + +<p>Vivian turned to her, her fine face flushed +with hope, yet with a small Greek fret on +the broad forehead.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to, very much, Dr. Bellair—on +some accounts. But——" She could not +quite voice her dim objections, her obscure +withdrawals; and so fell back on the excuse +of childhood—"I'm sure Mother wouldn't +let me."</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair smiled broadly.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you over twenty-one?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I'm twenty-five," the girl replied, with +proud acceptance of a life long done—as one +who owned to ninety-seven.</p> + +<p>"And self-supporting?" pursued the doctor.</p> + +<p>Vivian flushed.</p> + +<p>"No—not yet," she answered; "but I +mean to be."</p> + +<p>"Exactly! Now's your chance. Break +away now, my dear, and come West. You +can get work—start a kindergarten, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> +something. I know you love children."</p> + +<p>The girl's heart rose within her in a great +throb of hope.</p> + +<p>"Oh—if I <i>could</i>!" she exclaimed, and even +as she said it, rose half-conscious memories +of the low, sweet tones of Mrs. St. Cloud. +"It is a woman's place to wait—and to endure."</p> + +<p>She heard a step on the walk outside—looked +out.</p> + +<p>"Why, here is Mrs. St. Cloud!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Guess I'll clear out," said the doctor, as +Susie ran to the door. She was shy, socially.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Jane," said her hostess, +whispering. "Mrs. St. Cloud is no stranger. +She's Mrs. Williams' sister—been here for +years."</p> + +<p>She came in at the word, her head and +shoulders wreathed in a pearl gray shining +veil, her soft long robe held up.</p> + +<p>"I saw your light, Miss Elder, and +thought I'd stop in for a moment. Good +evening, Mrs. Pettigrew—and Miss Susie. +Ah! Vivian!"</p> + +<p>"This is my friend, Dr. Bellair—Mrs. St. +Cloud," Miss Elder was saying. But Dr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> +Bellair bowed a little stiffly, not coming forward.</p> + +<p>"I've met Mrs. St. Cloud before, I think—when +she was 'Mrs. James.'"</p> + +<p>The lady's face grew sad.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you knew my first husband! I lost +him—many years ago—typhoid fever."</p> + +<p>"I think I heard," said the doctor. And +then, feeling that some expression of sympathy +was called for, she added, "Too bad."</p> + +<p>Not all Miss Elder's gentle hospitality, +Mrs. Pettigrew's bright-eyed interest, +Susie's efforts at polite attention, and Vivian's +visible sympathy could compensate +Mrs. St. Cloud for one inimical presence.</p> + +<p>"You must have been a mere girl in those +days," she said sweetly. "What a lovely +little town it was—under the big trees."</p> + +<p>"It certainly was," the doctor answered +dryly.</p> + +<p>"There is such a fine atmosphere in a college +town, I think," pursued the lady. +"Especially in a co-educational town—don't +you think so?"</p> + +<p>Vivian was a little surprised. She had +had an idea that her admired friend did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> +approve of co-education. She must have +been mistaken.</p> + +<p>"Such a world of old memories as you call +up, Dr. Bellair," their visitor pursued. +"Those quiet, fruitful days! You remember +Dr. Black's lectures? Of course you do, +better than I. What a fine man he was! +And the beautiful music club we had one +Winter—and my little private dancing class—do +you remember that? Such nice boys, +Miss Elder! I used to call them my +acolytes."</p> + +<p>Susie gave a little gulp, and coughed to +cover it.</p> + +<p>"I guess you'll have to excuse me, ladies," +said Dr. Bellair. "Good-night." And she +walked upstairs.</p> + +<p>Vivian's face flushed and paled and flushed +again. A cold pain was trying to enter +her heart, and she was trying to keep it +out. Her grandmother glanced sharply +from one face to the other.</p> + +<p>"Glad to've met you, Mrs. St. Cloud," +she said, bobbing up with decision. "Good-night, +Rella—and Susie. Come on child. It's +a wonder your mother hasn't sent after us."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span></p> + +<p>For once Vivian was glad to go.</p> + +<p>"That's a good scheme of Jane Bellair's, +don't you think so?" asked the old lady as +they shut the gate behind them.</p> + +<p>"I—why yes—I don't see why not."</p> + +<p>Vivian was still dizzy with the blow to her +heart's idol. All the soft, still dream-world +she had so labored to keep pure and beautiful +seemed to shake and waver swimmingly. +She could not return to it. The flat white +face of her home loomed before her, square, +hard, hideously unsympathetic—</p> + +<p>"Grandma," said she, stopping that lady +suddenly and laying a pleading hand on her +arm, "Grandma, I believe I'll go."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew nodded decisively.</p> + +<p>"I thought you would," she said.</p> + +<p>"Do you blame me, Grandma?"</p> + +<p>"Not a mite, child. Not a mite. But I'd +sleep on it, if I were you."</p> + +<p>And Vivian slept on it—so far as she +slept at all.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>TRANSPLANTED</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:25%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sometimes a plant in its own habitat<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is overcrowded, starved, oppressed and daunted;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A palely feeble thing; yet rises quickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Growing in height and vigor, blooming thickly,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">When far transplanted.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The days between Vivian's decision +and her departure were harder than +she had foreseen. It took some +courage to make the choice. Had she been +alone, independent, quite free to change, +the move would have been difficult enough; +but to make her plan and hold to it in the +face of a disapproving town, and the definite +opposition of her parents, was a heavy undertaking.</p> + +<p>By habit she would have turned to Mrs. +St. Cloud for advice; but between her and +that lady now rose the vague image of a +young boy, dead,—she could never feel the +same to her again.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span></p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair proved a tower of strength. +"My dear girl," she would say to her, patiently, +but with repressed intensity, "do +remember that you are <i>not</i> a child! You are +twenty-five years old. You are a grown +woman, and have as much right to decide for +yourself as a grown man. This isn't wicked—it +is a wise move; a practical one. Do you +want to grow up like the rest of the useless +single women in this little social cemetery?"</p> + +<p>Her mother took it very hard. "I don't +see how you can think of leaving us. We're +getting old now—and here's Grandma to +take care of——"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said that lady, with such marked +emphasis that Mrs. Lane hastily changed +the phrase to "I mean to <i>be with</i>—you do +like to have Vivian with you, you can't deny +that, Mother."</p> + +<p>"But Mama," said the girl, "you are not +old; you are only forty-three. I am sorry +to leave you—I am really; but it isn't forever! +I can come back. And you don't +really need me. Sarah runs the house exactly +as you like; you don't depend on me +for a thing, and never did. As to Grandma!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span>"—and +she looked affectionately at the old +lady—"she don't need me nor anybody else. +She's independent if ever anybody was. She +won't miss me a mite—will you Grandma?" +Mrs. Pettigrew looked at her for a moment, +the corners of her mouth tucked in tightly. +"No," she said, "I shan't miss you a mite!"</p> + +<p>Vivian was a little grieved at the prompt +acquiescence. She felt nearer to her grandmother +in many ways than to either parent. +"Well, I'll miss you!" said she, going to her +and kissing her smooth pale cheek, "I'll miss +you awfully!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Lane expressed his disapproval most +thoroughly, and more than once; then retired +into gloomy silence, alternated with +violent dissuasion; but since a woman of +twenty-five is certainly free to choose her +way of life, and there was no real objection +to this change, except that it <i>was</i> a change, +and therefore dreaded, his opposition, +though unpleasant, was not prohibitive. +Vivian's independent fortune of $87.50, the +savings of many years, made the step possible, +even without his assistance.</p> + +<p>There were two weeks of exceeding dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span>agreeableness +in the household, but Vivian +kept her temper and her determination under +a rain of tears, a hail of criticism, and heavy +wind of argument and exhortation. All her +friends and neighbors, and many who were +neither, joined in the effort to dissuade her; +but she stood firm as the martyrs of old.</p> + +<p>Heredity plays strange tricks with us. +Somewhere under the girl's dumb gentleness +and patience lay a store of quiet strength +from some Pilgrim Father or Mother. +Never before had she set her will against +her parents; conscience had always told her +to submit. Now conscience told her to rebel, +and she did. She made her personal arrangements, +said goodbye to her friends, declined +to discuss with anyone, was sweet and +quiet and kind at home, and finally appeared +at the appointed hour on the platform of +the little station.</p> + +<p>Numbers of curious neighbors were there +to see them off, all who knew them and could +spare the time seemed to be on hand. Vivian's +mother came, but her father did not.</p> + +<p>At the last moment, just as the train drew +in, Grandma appeared, serene and brisk,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> +descending, with an impressive amount of +hand baggage, from "the hack."</p> + +<p>"Goodbye, Laura," she said. "I think +these girls need a chaperon. I'm going too."</p> + +<p>So blasting was the astonishment caused +by this proclamation, and so short a time +remained to express it, that they presently +found themselves gliding off in the big Pullman, +all staring at one another in silent +amazement.</p> + +<p>"I hate discussion," said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>None of these ladies were used to traveling, +save Dr. Bellair, who had made the +cross continent trip often enough to think +nothing of it.</p> + +<p>The unaccustomed travelers found much +excitement in the journey. As women, embarking +on a new, and, in the eyes of their +friends, highly doubtful enterprise, they +had emotion to spare; and to be confronted +at the outset by a totally unexpected grandmother +was too much for immediate comprehension.</p> + +<p>She looked from one to the other, sparkling, +triumphant.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span></p> + +<p>"I made up my mind, same as you did, +hearing Jane Bellair talk," she explained. +"Sounded like good sense. I always wanted +to travel, always, and never had the opportunity. +This was a real good chance." Her +mouth shut, tightened, widened, drew into +a crinkly delighted smile.</p> + +<p>They sat still staring at her.</p> + +<p>"You needn't look at me like that! I +guess it's a free country! I bought my ticket—sent +for it same as you did. And I didn't +have to ask <i>anybody</i>—I'm no daughter. +My duty, as far as I know it, is <i>done</i>! This +is a pleasure trip!"</p> + +<p>She was triumph incarnate.</p> + +<p>"And you never said a word!" This from +Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Not a word. Saved lots of trouble. +Take care of me indeed! Laura needn't +think I'm dependent on her <i>yet</i>!"</p> + +<p>Vivian's heart rather yearned over her +mother, thus doubly bereft.</p> + +<p>"The truth is," her grandmother went on, +"Samuel wants to go to Florida the worst +way; I heard 'em talking about it! He +wasn't willing to go alone—not he! Wants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> +somebody to hear him cough, I say! And +Laura couldn't go—'Mother was so dependent'—<i>Huh!</i>"</p> + +<p>Vivian began to smile. She knew this +had been talked over, and given up on that +account. She herself could have been easily +disposed of, but Mrs. Lane chose to think +her mother a lifelong charge.</p> + +<p>"Act as if I was ninety!" the old lady +burst forth again. "I'll show 'em!"</p> + +<p>"I think you're dead right, Mrs. Pettigrew," +said Dr. Bellair. "Sixty isn't anything. +You ought to have twenty years of +enjoyable life yet, before they call you 'old'—maybe +more."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew cocked an eye at her. +"My grandmother lived to be a hundred and +four," said she, "and kept on working up to +the last year. I don't know about enjoyin' +life, but she was useful for pretty near a +solid century. After she broke her hip the +last time she sat still and sewed and knitted. +After her eyes gave out she took to hooking +rugs."</p> + +<p>"I hope it will be forty years, Mrs. Pettigrew," +said Sue, "and I'm real glad you're<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> +coming. It'll make it more like home."</p> + +<p>Miss Elder was a little slow in accommodating +herself to this new accession. She +liked Mrs. Pettigrew very much—but—a +grandmother thus airily at large seemed to +unsettle the foundations of things. She was +polite, even cordial, but evidently found it +difficult to accept the facts.</p> + +<p>"Besides," said Mrs. Pettigrew, "you may +not get all those boarders at once and I'll +be one to count on. I stopped at the bank +this morning and had 'em arrange for my +account out in Carston. They were some +surprised, but there was no time to ask +questions!" She relapsed into silence and +gazed with keen interest at the whirling +landscape.</p> + +<p>Throughout the journey she proved the +best of travelers; was never car-sick, slept +well in the joggling berth, enjoyed the food, +and continually astonished them by producing +from her handbag the most diverse and +unlooked for conveniences. An old-fashioned +traveller had forgotten her watchkey—Grandma +produced an automatic one warranted +to fit anything. "Takes up mighty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> +little room—and I thought maybe it would +come in handy," she said.</p> + +<p>She had a small bottle of liquid court-plaster, +and plenty of the solid kind. She +had a delectable lotion for the hands, a real +treasure on the dusty journey; also a tiny +corkscrew, a strong pair of "pinchers," sewing +materials, playing cards, string, safety-pins, +elastic bands, lime drops, stamped envelopes, +smelling salts, troches, needles and +thread.</p> + +<p>"Did you bring a trunk, Grandma?" +asked Vivian.</p> + +<p>"Two," said Grandma, "excess baggage. +All paid for and checked."</p> + +<p>"How did you ever learn to arrange +things so well?" Sue asked admiringly.</p> + +<p>"Read about it," the old lady answered. +"There's no end of directions nowadays. +I've been studying up."</p> + +<p>She was so gleeful and triumphant, so +variously useful, so steadily gay and stimulating, +that they all grew to value her presence +long before they reached Carston; but +they had no conception of the ultimate ef<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span>fect +of a resident grandmother in that new +and bustling town.</p> + +<p>To Vivian the journey was a daily and +nightly revelation. She had read much but +traveled very little, never at night. The +spreading beauty of the land was to her a +new stimulus; she watched by the hour the +endless panorama fly past her window, its +countless shades of green, the brown and +red soil, the fleeting dashes of color where +wild flowers gathered thickly. She was repeatedly +impressed by seeing suddenly beside +her the name of some town which had +only existed in her mind as "capital city" +associated with "principal exports" and +"bounded on the north."</p> + +<p>At night, sleeping little, she would raise +her curtain and look out, sideways, at the +stars. Big shadowy trees ran by, steep cuttings +rose like a wall of darkness, and the +hilly curves of open country rose and fell +against the sky line like a shaken carpet.</p> + +<p>She faced the long, bright vistas of the +car and studied people's faces—such different +people from any she had seen before. +A heavy young man with small, light eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span> +sat near by, and cast frequent glances at +both the girls, going by their seat at intervals. +Vivian considered this distinctly rude, +and Sue did not like his looks, so he got +nothing for his pains, yet even this added +color to the day.</p> + +<p>The strange, new sense of freedom grew +in her heart, a feeling of lightness and hope +and unfolding purpose.</p> + +<p>There was continued discussion as to what +the girls should do.</p> + +<p>"We can be waitresses for Auntie till we +get something else," Sue practically insisted. +"The doctor says it will be hard to get good +service and I'm sure the boarders would +like us."</p> + +<p>"You can both find work if you want it. +What do you want to do, Vivian?" asked +Dr. Bellair, not for the first time.</p> + +<p>Vivian was still uncertain.</p> + +<p>"I love children best," she said. "I could +teach—but I haven't a certificate. I'd <i>love</i> +a kindergarten; I've studied that—at +home."</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't wonder if you could get up a +kindergarten right off," the doctor assured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> +her. "Meantime, as this kitten says, you +could help Miss Elder out and turn an honest +penny while you're waiting."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it—interfere with my teaching +later?" the girl inquired.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit, not a bit. We're not so foolish +out here. We'll fix you up all right in +no time."</p> + +<p>It was morning when they arrived at last +and came out of the cindery, noisy crowded +cars into the wide, clean, brilliant stillness +of the high plateau. They drew deep +breaths; the doctor squared her shoulders +with a glad, homecoming smile. Vivian +lifted her head and faced the new surroundings +as an unknown world. Grandma gazed +all ways, still cheerful, and their baggage +accrued about them as a rampart.</p> + +<p>A big bearded man, carelessly dressed, +whirled up in a dusty runabout, and stepped +out smiling. He seized Dr. Bellair by both +hands, and shook them warmly.</p> + +<p>"Thought I'd catch you, Johnny," he said. +"Glad to see you back. If you've got the +landlady, I've got the cook!"</p> + +<p>"Here we are," said she. "Miss Orella<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> +Elder—Dr. Hale; Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss +Susie Elder, Miss Lane—Dr. Richard +Hale."</p> + +<p>He bowed deeply to Mrs. Pettigrew, +shook hands with Miss Orella, and addressed +himself to her, giving only a cold +nod to the two girls, and quite turning away +from them.</p> + +<p>Susie, in quiet aside to Vivian, made unfavorable +comment.</p> + +<p>"This is your Western chivalry, is it?" +she said. "Even Bainville does better than +that."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why we should mind," +Vivian answered. "It's Dr. Bellair's friend; +he don't care anything about us."</p> + +<p>But she was rather of Sue's opinion.</p> + +<p>The big man took Dr. Bellair in his car, +and they followed in a station carriage, +eagerly observing their new surroundings, +and surprised, as most Easterners are, by +the broad beauty of the streets and the +modern conveniences everywhere—electric +cars, electric lights, telephones, soda fountains, +where they had rather expected to find +tents and wigwams.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span></p> + +<p>The house, when they were all safely +within it, turned out to be "just like a real +house," as Sue said; and proved even more +attractive than the doctor had described it. +It was a big, rambling thing, at home they +would have called it a hotel, with its neat +little sign, "The Cottonwoods," and Vivian +finally concluded that it looked like a seaside +boarding house, built for the purpose.</p> + +<p>A broad piazza ran all across the front, the +door opening into a big square hall, a sort +of general sitting-room; on either side were +four good rooms, opening on a transverse +passage. The long dining-room and kitchen +were in the rear of the hall.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair had two, her office fronting +on the side street, with a bedroom behind it. +They gave Mrs. Pettigrew the front corner +room on that side and kept the one opening +from the hall as their own parlor. In the +opposite wing was Miss Elder's room next +the hall, and the girls in the outer back corner, +while the two front ones on that side +were kept for the most impressive and high-priced +boarders.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew regarded her apartments +with suspicion as being too "easy."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind stairs," she said. "Dr. Bellair +has to be next her office—but why do I +have to be next Dr. Bellair?"</p> + +<p>It was represented to her that she would +be nearer to everything that went on and +she agreed without more words.</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale exhibited the house as if he +owned it.</p> + +<p>"The agent's out of town," he said, "and +we don't need him anyway. He said he'd +do anything you wanted, in reason."</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair watched with keen interest +the effect of her somewhat daring description, +as Miss Orella stepped from room to +room examining everything with a careful +eye, with an expression of growing generalship. +Sue fluttered about delightedly, discovering +advantages everywhere and making +occasional disrespectful remarks to Vivian +about Dr. Hale's clothes.</p> + +<p>"Looks as if he never saw a clothes +brush!" she said. "A finger out on his glove, +a button off his coat. No need to tell us +there's no woman in his house!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span></p> + +<p>"You can decide about your cook when +you've tried her," he said to Miss Elder. "I +engaged her for a week—on trial. She's in +the kitchen now, and will have your dinner +ready presently. I think you'll like her, +if——"</p> + +<p>"Good boy!" said Dr. Bellair. "Sometimes +you show as much sense as a woman—almost."</p> + +<p>"What's the 'if'" asked Miss Orella, +looking worried.</p> + +<p>"Question of character," he answered. +"She's about forty-five, with a boy of sixteen +or so. He's not over bright, but a willing +worker. She's a good woman—from +one standpoint. She won't leave that boy +nor give him up to strangers; but she has +a past!"</p> + +<p>"What is her present?" Dr. Bellair asked, +"that's the main thing."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale clapped her approvingly on the +shoulder, but looked doubtingly toward +Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>"And what's her future if somebody don't +help her?" Vivian urged.</p> + +<p>"Can she cook?" asked Grandma.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is she a safe person to have in the +house?" inquired Dr. Bellair meaningly.</p> + +<p>"She can cook," he replied. "She's French, +or of French parentage. She used to keep +a little—place of entertainment. The food +was excellent. She's been a patient of mine—off +and on—for five years—and I should +call her perfectly safe."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella still looked worried. "I'd +like to help her and the boy, but would it—look +well? I don't want to be mean about +it, but this is a very serious venture with us, +Dr. Hale, and I have these girls with me."</p> + +<p>"With you and Dr. Bellair and Mrs. Pettigrew +the young ladies will be quite safe, +Miss Elder. As to the woman's present +character, she has suffered two changes of +heart, she's become a religious devotee—and +a man-hater! And from a business +point of view, I assure you that if Jeanne +Jeaune is in your kitchen you'll never have +a room empty."</p> + +<p>"Johnny Jones! queer name for a woman!" +said Grandma. They repeated it to +her carefully, but she only changed to "Jennie +June," and adhered to one or the other,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> +thereafter. "What's the boy's name?" she +asked further.</p> + +<p>"Theophile," Dr. Hale replied.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said she.</p> + +<p>"Why don't she keep an eating-house +still?" asked Dr. Bellair rather suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"That's what I like best about her," he +answered. "She is trying to break altogether +with her past. She wants to give up 'public +life'—and private life won't have her."</p> + +<p>They decided to try the experiment, and +found it worked well.</p> + +<p>There were two bedrooms over the kitchen +where "Mrs. Jones" as Grandma generally +called her, and her boy, could be quite comfortable +and by themselves; and although of +a somewhat sour and unsociable aspect, and +fiercely watchful lest anyone offend her son, +this questionable character proved an unquestionable +advantage. With the boy's +help, she cooked for the houseful, which +grew to be a family of twenty-five. He also +wiped dishes, helped in the laundry work, +cleaned and scrubbed and carried coal; and +Miss Elder, seeing his steady usefulness, insisted +on paying wages for him too. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> +unlooked for praise and gain won the +mother's heart, and as she grew more at +home with them, and he less timid, she encouraged +him to do the heavier cleaning in +the rest of the house.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Grandma. "I wish more +sane and moral persons would work like +that!"</p> + +<p>Vivian watched with amazement the swift +filling of the house.</p> + +<p>There was no trouble at all about boarders, +except in discriminating among them. +"Make them pay in advance, Rella," Dr. +Bellair advised, "it doesn't cost them any +more, and it is a great convenience. 'References +exchanged,' of course. There are a +good many here that I know—you can always +count on Mr. Dykeman and Fordham +Grier, and John Unwin."</p> + +<p>Before a month was over the place was +full to its limits with what Sue called "assorted +boarders," the work ran smoothly +and the business end of Miss Elder's venture +seemed quite safe. They had the twenty +Dr. Bellair prophesied, and except for her, +Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss Peeder, a teacher of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> +dancing and music; Mrs. Jocelyn, who was +interested in mining, and Sarah Hart, who +described herself as a "journalist," all were +men.</p> + +<p>Fifteen men to eight women. Miss Elder +sat at the head of her table, looked down it +and across the other one, and marvelled continuously. +Never in her New England life +had she been with so many men—except in +church—and they were more scattered. +This houseful of heavy feet and broad +shoulders, these deep voices and loud laughs, +the atmosphere of interchanging jests and +tobacco smoke, was new to her. She hated +the tobacco smoke, but that could not be +helped. They did not smoke in her parlor, +but the house was full of it none the less, in +which constant presence she began to reverse +the Irishman's well known judgment +of whiskey, allowing that while all tobacco +was bad, some tobacco was much worse than +others.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>CONTRASTS</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old England thinks our country<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is a wilderness at best—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And small New England thinks the same<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Of the large free-minded West.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some people know the good old way<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Is the only way to do,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And find there must be something wrong<br /></span> +<span class="i1">In anything that's new.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>To Vivian the new life offered a stimulus, +a sense of stir and promise even +beyond her expectations. She wrote +dutiful letters to her mother, trying to describe +the difference between this mountain +town and Bainville, but found the New England +viewpoint an insurmountable obstacle.</p> + +<p>To Bainville "Out West" was a large +blank space on the map, and the blank space +in the mind which matched it was but +sparsely dotted with a few disconnected ideas +such as "cowboy," "blizzard," "prairie fire,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> +"tornado," "border ruffian," and the like.</p> + +<p>The girl's painstaking description of the +spreading, vigorous young town, with its +fine, modern buildings, its banks and stores +and theatres, its country club and parks, its +pleasant social life, made small impression +on the Bainville mind. But the fact that +Miss Elder's venture was successful from +the first did impress old acquaintances, and +Mrs. Lane read aloud to selected visitors +her daughter's accounts of their new and +agreeable friends. Nothing was said of +"chaps," "sombreros," or "shooting up the +town," however, and therein a distinct sense +of loss was felt.</p> + +<p>Much of what was passing in Vivian's +mind she could not make clear to her mother +had she wished to. The daily presence and +very friendly advances of so many men, +mostly young and all polite (with the exception +of Dr. Hale, whose indifference was +almost rude by contrast), gave a new life +and color to the days.</p> + +<p>She could not help giving some thought +to this varied assortment, and the carefully +preserved image of Morton, already nine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> +years dim, waxed dimmer. But she had a +vague consciousness of being untrue to her +ideals, or to Mrs. St. Cloud's ideals, now +somewhat discredited, and did not readily +give herself up to the cheerful attractiveness +of the position.</p> + +<p>Susie found no such difficulty. Her ideals +were simple, and while quite within the +bounds of decorum, left her plenty of room +for amusement. So popular did she become, +so constantly in demand for rides and walks +and oft-recurring dances, that Vivian felt +called upon to give elder sisterly advice.</p> + +<p>But Miss Susan scouted her admonitions.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I have a good time?" she +said. "Think how we grew up! Half a +dozen boys to twenty girls, and when there +was anything to go to—the lordly way +they'd pick and choose! And after all our +efforts and machinations most of us had to +dance with each other. And the quarrels +we had! Here they stand around three deep +asking for dances—and <i>they</i> have to dance +with each other, and <i>they</i> do the quarreling. +I've heard 'em." And Sue giggled delightedly.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's no reason we shouldn't enjoy +ourselves, Susie, of course, but aren't you—rather +hard on them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nonsense!" Sue protested. "Dr. Bellair +said I should get married out here! She +says the same old thing—that it's 'a woman's +duty,' and I propose to do it. That is—they'll +propose, and I won't do it! Not till +I make up my mind. Now see how you like +this!"</p> + +<p>She had taken a fine large block of "legal +cap" and set down their fifteen men thereon, +with casual comment.</p> + +<p>1. Mr. Unwin—Too old, big, quiet.</p> + +<p>2. Mr. Elmer Skee—Big, too old, funny.</p> + +<p>3. Jimmy Saunders—Middle-sized, amusing, +nice.</p> + +<p>4. P. R. Gibbs—Too little, too thin, too +cocky.</p> + +<p>5. George Waterson—Middling, pretty +nice.</p> + +<p>6. J. J. Cuthbert—Big, horrid.</p> + +<p>7. Fordham Greer—Big, pleasant.</p> + +<p>8. W. S. Horton—Nothing much.</p> + +<p>9. A. L. Dykeman—Interesting, too old.</p> + +<p>10. Professor Toomey—Little, horrid.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span></p> + +<p>11. Arthur Fitzwilliam—Ridiculous, too +young.</p> + +<p>12. Howard Winchester—Too nice, distrust him.</p> + +<p>13. Lawson W. Briggs—Nothing much.</p> + +<p>14. Edward S. Jenks—Fair to middling.</p> + +<p>15. Mr. A. Smith—Minus.</p> + +<p>She held it up in triumph. "I got 'em all +out of the book—quite correct. Now, +which'll you have."</p> + +<p>"Susie Elder! You little goose! Do you +imagine that all these fifteen men are going +to propose to you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I hope so!" said the cheerful +damsel. "We've only been settled a fortnight +and one of 'em has already!"</p> + +<p>Vivian was impressed at once. "Which?—You +don't mean it!"</p> + +<p>Sue pointed to the one marked "minus."</p> + +<p>"It was only 'A. Smith.' I never should +be willing to belong to 'A. Smith,' it's too +indefinite—unless it was a last resort. +Several more are—well, extremely friendly! +Now don't look so severe. You needn't +worry about me. I'm not quite so foolish as +I talk, you know."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span></p> + +<p>She was not. Her words were light and +saucy, but she was as demure and decorous +a little New Englander as need be desired; +and she could not help it if the hearts of +the unattached young men of whom the +town was full, warmed towards her.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair astonished them at lunch one +day in their first week.</p> + +<p>"Dick Hale wants us all to come over to +tea this afternoon," she said, as if it was +the most natural thing in the world.</p> + +<p>"Tea? Where?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew +sharply.</p> + +<p>"At his house. He has 'a home of his +own,' you know. And he particularly wants +you, Mrs. Pettigrew—and Miss Elder—the +girls, of course."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't care to go," Vivian remarked +with serene indifference, but Susie +did.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come on, Vivian! It'll be so funny! +A man's home!—and we may never get +another chance. He's such a bear!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale's big house was only across the +road from theirs, standing in a large lot with +bushes and trees about it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's been here nine years," Dr. Bellair +told them. "That's an old inhabitant for +us. He boarded in that house for a while; +then it was for sale and he bought it. He +built that little office of his at the corner—says +he doesn't like to live where he works, +or work where he lives. He took his meals +over here for a while—and then set up for +himself."</p> + +<p>"I should think he'd be lonely," Miss Elder +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he has his boys, you know—always +three or four young fellows about him. It's +a mighty good thing for them, too."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale's home proved a genuine surprise. +They had regarded it as a big, neglected-looking +place, and found on entering +the gate that the inside view of that +rampant shrubbery was extremely pleasant. +Though not close cut and swept of leaves +and twigs, it still was beautiful; and the +tennis court and tether-ball ring showed the +ground well used.</p> + +<p>Grandma looked about her with a keen +interrogative eye, and was much impressed, +as, indeed, were they all. She voiced their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> +feelings justly when, the true inwardness +of this pleasant home bursting fully upon +them, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Well, of all things! A man keeping +house!"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Dr. Hale with his dry +smile. "Is there any deficiency, mental or +physical, about a man, to prevent his attempting +this abstruse art?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him sharply. "I don't know +about deficiency, but there seems to be +somethin' about 'em that keeps 'em out of +the business. I guess it's because women are +so cheap."</p> + +<p>"No doubt you are right, Mrs. Pettigrew. +And here women are scarce and high. Hence +my poor efforts."</p> + +<p>His poor efforts had bought or built a +roomy pleasant house, and furnished it with +a solid comfort and calm attractiveness that +was most satisfying. Two Chinamen did +the work; cooking, cleaning, washing, waiting +on table, with silent efficiency. "They +are as steady as eight-day clocks," said Dr. +Hale. "I pay them good wages and they +are worth it."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sun here had to go home once—to be +married, also, to see his honored parents, I +believe, and to leave a grand-'Sun' to attend +to the ancestors; but he brought in another +Chink first and trained him so well that I +hardly noticed the difference. Came back +in a year or so, and resumed his place without +a jar."</p> + +<p>Miss Elder watched with fascinated eyes +these soft-footed servants with clean, white +garments and shiny coils of long, braided +hair.</p> + +<p>"I may have to come to it," she admitted, +"but—dear me, it doesn't seem natural to +have a man doing housework!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale smiled again. "You don't want +men to escape from dependence, I see. Perhaps, +if more men knew how comfortably +they could live without women, the world +would be happier." There was a faint wire-edge +to his tone, in spite of the courteous +expression, but Miss Elder did not notice +it and if Mrs. Pettigrew did, she made no +comment.</p> + +<p>They noted the varied excellences of his +housekeeping with high approval.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span></p> + +<p>"You certainly know how, Dr. Hale," +said Miss Orella; "I particularly admire +these beds—with the sheets buttoned down, +German fashion, isn't it? What made you +do that?"</p> + +<p>"I've slept so much in hotels," he answered; +"and found the sheets always inadequate +to cover the blankets—and the +marks of other men's whiskers! I don't like +blankets in my neck. Besides it saves washing."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew nodded vehemently. +"You have sense," she said.</p> + +<p>The labor-saving devices were a real +surprise to them. A "chute" for soiled clothing +shot from the bathroom on each floor to +the laundry in the basement; a dumbwaiter +of construction large and strong enough to +carry trunks, went from cellar to roof; the +fireplaces dropped their ashes down mysterious +inner holes; and for the big one in the +living-room a special "lift" raised a box of +wood up to the floor level, hidden by one of +the "settles."</p> + +<p>"Saves work—saves dirt—saves expense," +said Dr. Hale.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Hale and her niece secretly thought +the rooms rather bare, but Dr. Bellair was +highly in favor of that very feature.</p> + +<p>"You see Dick don't believe in jimcracks +and dirt-catchers, and he likes sunlight. +Books all under glass—no curtains to wash +and darn and fuss with—none of those fancy +pincushions and embroidered thingummies—I +quite envy him."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you have one yourself, +Johnny?" he asked her.</p> + +<p>"Because I don't like housekeeping," she +said, "and you do. Masculine instinct, I +suppose!"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew with her +sudden one-syllable chuckle.</p> + +<p>The girls followed from room to room, +scarce noticing these comments, or the eager +politeness of the four pleasant-faced young +fellows who formed the doctor's present family. +She could not but note the intelligent +efficiency of the place, but felt more deeply +the underlying spirit, the big-brotherly kindness +which prompted his hospitable care of +these nice boys. It was delightful to hear +them praise him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span></p> + +<p>"O, he's simply great," whispered Archie +Burns, a ruddy-cheeked young Scotchman. +"He pretends there's nothing to it—that he +wants company—that we pay for all we get—and +that sort of thing, you know; but this +is no boarding house, I can tell you!" And +then he flushed till his very hair grew redder—remembering +that the guests came from +one.</p> + +<p>"Of course not!" Vivian cordially agreed +with him. "You must have lovely times here. +I don't wonder you appreciate it!" and she +smiled so sweetly that he felt at ease again.</p> + +<p>Beneath all this cheery good will and the +gay chatter of the group her quick sense +caught an impression of something hidden +and repressed. She felt the large and quiet +beauty of the rooms; the smooth comfort, +the rational, pleasant life; but still more she +felt a deep keynote of loneliness.</p> + +<p>The pictures told her most. She noted +one after another with inward comment.</p> + +<p>"There's 'Persepolis,'" she said to herself—"loneliness +incarnate; and that other lion-and-ruin +thing,—loneliness and decay. Gerome's +'Lion in the Desert,' too, the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> +thing. Then Daniel—more lions, more loneliness, +but power. 'Circe and the Companions +of Ulysses'—cruel, but loneliness and +power again—of a sort. There's that 'Island +of Death' too—a beautiful thing—but O +dear!—And young Burne-Jones' 'Vampire' +was in one of the bedrooms—that one +he shut the door of!"</p> + +<p>While they ate and drank in the long, +low-ceiled wide-windowed room below, she +sought the bookcases and looked them over +curiously. Yes—there was Marcus Aurelius, +Epictetus, Plato, Emerson and Carlisle—the +great German philosophers, the +French, the English—all showing signs of +use.</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale observed her inspection. It +seemed to vaguely annoy him, as if someone +were asking too presuming questions.</p> + +<p>"Interested in philosophy, Miss Lane?" +he asked, drily, coming toward her.</p> + +<p>"Yes—so far as I understand it," she answered.</p> + +<p>"And how far does that go?"</p> + +<p>She felt the inference, and raised her soft +eyes to his rather reproachfully.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not far, I am afraid. But I do know +that these books teach one how to bear +trouble."</p> + +<p>He met her gaze steadily, but something +seemed to shut, deep in his eyes. They +looked as unassailable as a steel safe. He +straightened his big shoulders with a defiant +shrug, and returned to sit by Mrs. Pettigrew, +to whom he made himself most agreeable.</p> + +<p>The four young men did the honors of +the tea table, with devotion to all; and some +especially intended for the younger ladies. +Miss Elder cried out in delight at the +tea.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get it, Dr. Hale? Can +it be had here?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not. That is a particular +brand. Sun brought me a chest of it when +he came from his visit."</p> + +<p>When they went home each lady was +given a present, Chinese fashion—lychee +nuts for Sue, lily-bulbs for Vivian, a large +fan for Mrs. Pettigrew, and a package of +the wonderful tea for Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>"That's a splendid thing for him to do,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> +she said, as they walked back. "Such a safe +place for those boys!"</p> + +<p>"It's lovely of him," Sue agreed. "I don't +care if he is a woman-hater."</p> + +<p>Vivian said nothing, but admitted, on +being questioned, that "he was very interesting."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew was delighted with their +visit. "I like this country," she declared. +"Things are different. A man couldn't do +that in Bainville—he'd be talked out of +town."</p> + +<p>That night she sought Dr. Bellair and +questioned her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me about that man," she demanded. +"How old is he?"</p> + +<p>"Not as old as he looks by ten years," +said the doctor. "No, I can't tell you why +his hair's gray."</p> + +<p>"What woman upset him?" asked the old +lady.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair regarded her thoughtfully. +"He has made me no confidences, Mrs. Pettigrew, +but I think you are right. It must +have been a severe shock—for he is very +bitter against women. It is a shame, too, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> +he is one of the best of men. He prefers +men patients—and gets them. The women +he will treat if he must, but he is kindest +to the 'fallen' ones, and inclined to +sneer at the rest. And yet he's the +straightest man I ever knew. I'm thankful +to have him come here so much. He +needs it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew marched off, nodding +sagely. She felt a large and growing interest +in her new surroundings, more especially +in the numerous boys, but was somewhat +amazed at her popularity among them. +These young men were mainly exiles from +home; the older ones, though more settled +perhaps, had been even longer away from +their early surroundings; and a real live +Grandma, as Jimmy Saunders said, was an +"attraction."</p> + +<p>"If you were mine," he told her laughingly, +"I'd get a pianist and some sort of +little side show, and exhibit you all up and +down the mountains!—for good money. +Why some of the boys never had a +Grandma, and those that did haven't seen +one since they were kids!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span></p> + +<p>"Very complimentary, I'm sure—but impracticable," +said the old lady.</p> + +<p>The young men came to her with confidences, +they asked her advice, they kept her +amused with tales of their adventures; +some true, some greatly diversified; and she +listened with a shrewd little smile and a wag +of the head—so they never were quite sure +whether they were "fooling" Grandma or +not.</p> + +<p>To her, as a general confidant, came Miss +Peeder with a tale of woe. The little hall +that she rented for her dancing classes had +burned down on a windy Sunday, and there +was no other suitable and within her means.</p> + +<p>"There's Sloan's; but it's over a barroom—it's +really not possible. And Baker's is +too expensive. The church rooms they won't +let for dancing—I don't know what I <i>am</i> to +do, Mrs. Pettigrew!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you ask Orella Elder to rent +you her dining-room—it's big enough. They +could move the tables——"</p> + +<p>Miss Peeder's eyes opened in hopeful surprise. +"Oh, if she <i>would</i>! Do <i>you</i> think +she would? It would be ideal."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Elder being called upon, was quite +fluttered by the proposition, and consulted +Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said that lady. "Dancing is +first rate exercise—good for us all. Might +as well have the girls dance here under your +eye as going out all the time—and it's some +addition to the income. They'll pay extra +for refreshments, too. I'd do it."</p> + +<p>With considerable trepidation Miss Orella +consented, and their first "class night" was +awaited by her in a state of suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p>To have music and dancing—"with refreshments"—twice +a week—in her own +house—this seemed to her like a career of +furious dissipation.</p> + +<p>Vivian, though with a subtle sense of +withdrawal from a too general intimacy, was +inwardly rather pleased; and Susie bubbled +over with delight.</p> + +<p>"Oh what fun!" she cried. "I never had +enough dancing! I don't believe anybody +has!"</p> + +<p>"We don't belong to the Class, you +know," Vivian reminded her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh yes! Miss Peeder says we must <i>all</i> +come—that she would feel <i>very</i> badly if we +didn't; and the boarders have all joined—to +a man!"</p> + +<p>Everyone seemed pleased except Mrs. +Jeaune. Dancing she considered immoral; +music, almost as much so—and Miss Elder +trembled lest she lose her. But the offer of +extra payments for herself and son on these +two nights each week proved sufficient to +quell her scruples.</p> + +<p>Theophile doubled up the tables, set chairs +around the walls, waxed the floor, and was +then sent to bed and locked in by his anxious +mother.</p> + +<p>She labored, during the earlier hours of +the evening, in the preparation of sandwiches +and coffee, cake and lemonade—which +viands were later shoved through the +slide by the austere cook, and distributed as +from a counter by Miss Peeder's assistant. +Mrs. Jeaune would come no nearer, but +peered darkly upon them through the peep-hole +in the swinging door.</p> + +<p>It was a very large room, due to the time +when many "mealers" had been accommo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span>dated. +There were windows on each side, +windows possessing the unusual merit of +opening from the top; wide double doors +made the big front hall a sort of anteroom, +and the stairs and piazza furnished opportunities +for occasional couples who felt the +wish for retirement. In the right-angled +passages, long hat-racks on either side were +hung with "Derbies," "Kossuths" and "Stetsons," +and the ladies took off their wraps, +and added finishing touches to their toilettes +in Miss Elder's room.</p> + +<p>The house was full of stir and bustle, of +pretty dresses, of giggles and whispers, and +the subdued exchange of comments among +the gentlemen. The men predominated, so +that there was no lack of partners for any +of the ladies.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella accepted her new position +with a half-terrified enjoyment. Not in +many years had she found herself so in demand. +Her always neat and appropriate +costume had blossomed suddenly for the +occasion; her hair, arranged by the affectionate +and admiring Susie, seemed softer +and more voluminous. Her eyes grew bril<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span>liant, +and the delicate color in her face +warmed and deepened.</p> + +<p>Miss Peeder had installed a pianola to +cover emergencies, but on this opening evening +she had both piano and violin—good, +lively, sole-stirring music. Everyone was +on the floor, save a few gentlemen who evidently +wished they were.</p> + +<p>Sue danced with the gaiety and lightness +of a kitten among wind-blown leaves, Vivian +with gliding grace, smooth and harmonious, +Miss Orella with skill and evident enjoyment, +though still conscientious in every accurate +step.</p> + +<p>Presently Mrs. Pettigrew appeared, sedately +glorious in black silk, jet-beaded, and +with much fine old lace. She bore in front +of her a small wicker rocking chair, and +headed for a corner near the door. Her +burden was promptly taken from her by one +of the latest comers, a tall person with a +most devoted manner.</p> + +<p>"Allow <i>me</i>, ma'am," he said, and placed +the little chair at the point she indicated. +"No lady ought to rustle for rockin' chairs +with so many gentlemen present."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span></p> + +<p>He was a man of somewhat advanced age, +but his hair was still more black than white +and had a curly, wiggish effect save as its +indigenous character was proven by three +small bare patches of a conspicuous nature.</p> + +<p>He bowed so low before her that she could +not help observing these distinctions, and +then answered her startled look before she +had time to question him.</p> + +<p>"Yes'm," he explained, passing his hand +over head; "scalped three several times and +left for dead. But I'm here yet. Mr. Elmer +Skee, at your service."</p> + +<p>"I thought when an Indian scalped you +there wasn't enough hair left to make +Greeley whiskers," said Grandma, rising to +the occasion.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, ma'am, they ain't so efficacious +as all that—not in these parts. I don't know +what the ancient Mohawks may have done, +but the Apaches only want a patch—smaller +to carry and just as good to show off. +They're collectors, you know—like a phil-e-a-to-lol-o-gist!"</p> + +<p>"Skee, did you say?" pursued the old +lady, regarding him with interest and con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span>vinced +that there was something wrong with +the name of that species of collector.</p> + +<p>"Yes'm. Skee—Elmer Skee. No'm, <i>not</i> +pronounced 'she.' Do I look like it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee was an interesting relic of that +stormy past of the once Wild West which +has left so few surviving. He had crossed +the plains as a child, he told her, in the days +of the prairie schooner, had then and there +lost his parents and his first bit of scalp, was +picked up alive by a party of "movers," and +had grown up in a playground of sixteen +states and territories.</p> + +<p>Grandma gazed upon him fascinated. "I +judge you might be interesting to talk +with," she said, after he had given her this +brief sketch of his youth.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am," said Mr. Skee. +"May I have the pleasure of this dance?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't danced in thirty years," said +she, dubitating.</p> + +<p>"The more reason for doing it now," he +calmly insisted.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and they +forthwith executed a species of march, the +gentleman pacing with the elaborate grace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span> +of a circus horse, and Grandma stepping at +his side with great decorum.</p> + +<p>Later on, warming to the occasion, Mr. +Skee frisked and high-stepped with the +youngest and gayest, and found the supper +so wholly to his liking that he promptly applied +for a room, and as soon as one was +vacant it was given to him.</p> + +<p>Vivian danced to her heart's content and +enjoyed the friendly merriment about her; +but when Fordham Greer took her out on +the long piazza to rest and breathe a little, +she saw the dark bulk of the house across +the street and the office with its half-lit +window, and could not avoid thinking of the +lonely man there.</p> + +<p>He had not come to the dance, no one expected +that, of course; but all his boys had +come and were having the best of times.</p> + +<p>"It's his own fault, of course; but it's a +shame," she thought.</p> + +<p>The music sounded gaily from within, +and young Greer urged for another dance.</p> + +<p>She stood there for a moment, hesitating, +her hand on his arm, when a tall figure came +briskly up the street from the station, turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> +in at their gate, came up the steps——</p> + +<p>The girl gave a little cry, and shrank back +for an instant, then eagerly came forward +and gave her hand to him.</p> + +<p>It was Morton.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>NEW FRIENDS AND OLD</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:31%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twould be too bad to be true, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And wonders never cease;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Twould be too bad to be true, my dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">If all one's swans were geese!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Vivian's startled cry of welcome +was heard by Susie, perched on +the stairs with several eager youths +gathered as close as might be about her, +and several pairs of hands helped her swift +descent to greet her brother.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella, dropping Mr. Dykeman's +arm, came flying from the ball-room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Morton! Morton! When did you +come? Why didn't you let us know? Oh, +my <i>dear</i> boy!"</p> + +<p>She haled him into their special parlor, +took his hat away from him, pulled out the +most comfortable chair.</p> + +<p>"Have you had supper? And to think +that we haven't a room for you! But there's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span> +to be one vacant—next week. I'll see that +there is. You shall have my room, dear boy. +Oh, I am so glad to see you!"</p> + +<p>Susie gave him a sisterly hug, while he +kissed her, somewhat gingerly, on the cheek, +and then she perched herself on the arm of +a chair and gazed upon him with affectionate +interest. Vivian gazed also, busily +engaged in fitting present facts to past +memories.</p> + +<p>Surely he had not looked just like that! +The Morton of her girlhood's dream had a +clear complexion, a bright eye, a brave and +gallant look—the voice only had not +changed.</p> + +<p>But here was Morton in present fact, +something taller, it seemed, and a good deal +heavier, well dressed in a rather vivid way, +and making merry over his aunt's devotion.</p> + +<p>"Well, if it doesn't seem like old times to +have Aunt 'Rella running 'round like a hen +with her head cut off, to wait on me." The +simile was not unjust, though certainly +ungracious, but his aunt was far too happy +to resent it.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span></p> + +<p>"You sit right still!" she said. "I'll go +and bring you some supper. You must be +hungry."</p> + +<p>"Now do sit down and hear to reason, +Auntie!" he said, reaching out a detaining +hand and pulling her into a seat beside him. +"I'm not hungry a little bit; had a good feed +on the diner. Never mind about the room—I +don't know how long I can stay—and I +left my grip at the Allen House anyway. +How well you're looking, Auntie! I declare +I'd hardly have known you! And +here's little Susie—a regular belle! And +Vivian—don't suppose I dare call you +Vivian now, Miss Lane?"</p> + +<p>Vivian gave a little embarrassed laugh. +If he had used her first name she would +never have noticed it. Now that he asked +her, she hardly knew what answer to make, +but presently said:</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, I always call you +Morton."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll come when you call me," he +cheerfully replied, leaning forward, elbows +on knees, and looking around the pretty +room.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span></p> + +<p>"How well you're fixed here. Guess it +was a wise move, Aunt 'Rella. But I'd +never have dreamed you'd do it. Your Dr. +Bellair must have been a powerful promoter +to get you all out here. I wouldn't have +thought anybody in Bainville could move—but +me. Why, there's Grandma, as I live!" +and he made a low bow.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew, hearing of his arrival +from the various would-be partners of the +two girls, had come to the door and stood +there regarding him with a non-committal +expression. At this address she frowned +perceptibly.</p> + +<p>"My name is Mrs. Pettigrew, young man. +I've known you since you were a scallawag +in short pants, but I'm no Grandma of +yours."</p> + +<p>"A thousand pardons! Please excuse me, +Mrs. Pettigrew," he said with exaggerated +politeness. "Won't you be seated?" And +he set a chair for her with a flourish.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, no," she said. "I'll go back," +and went back forthwith, attended by Mr. +Skee.</p> + +<p>"One of these happy family reunions,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> +ma'am?" he asked with approving interest. +"If there's one thing I do admire, it's a +happy surprise."</p> + +<p>"'Tis some of a surprise," Mrs. Pettigrew +admitted, and became rather glum, in spite +of Mr. Skee's undeniably entertaining conversation.</p> + +<p>"Some sort of a fandango going on?" +Morton asked after a few rather stiff moments. +"Don't let me interrupt! On with +the dance! Let joy be unconfined! And if +she must"—he looked at Vivian, and went +on somewhat lamely—"dance, why not dance +with me? May I have the pleasure, Miss +Lane?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," cried Miss Orella, "we'd much +rather be with you!"</p> + +<p>"But I'd rather dance than talk, any +time," said he, and crooked his elbow to +Vivian with an impressive bow.</p> + +<p>Somewhat uncertain in her own mind, and +unwilling to again disappoint Fordham +Greer, who had already lost one dance and +was visibly waiting for her in the hall, the +girl hesitated; but Susie said, "Go on, give +him part of one. I'll tell Mr. Greer." So<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> +Vivian took Morton's proffered arm and +returned to the floor.</p> + +<p>She had never danced with him in the +old days; no special memory was here to +contrast with the present; yet something +seemed vaguely wrong. He danced well, +but more actively than she admired, and +during the rest of the evening devoted himself +to the various ladies with an air of long +usage.</p> + +<p>She was glad when the dancing was over +and he had finally departed for his hotel, +glad when Susie had at last ceased chattering +and dropped reluctantly to sleep.</p> + +<p>For a long time she lay awake trying to +straighten out things in her mind and account +to herself for the sense of vague confusion +which oppressed her.</p> + +<p>Morton had come back! That was the +prominent thing, of which she repeatedly +assured herself. How often she had looked +forward to that moment, and felt in anticipation +a vivid joy. She had thought of it in +a hundred ways, always with pleasure, but +never in this particular way—among so +many strangers.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span></p> + +<p>It must be that which confused her, she +thought, for she was extremely sensitive to +the attitude of those about her. She felt an +unspoken criticism of Morton on the part +of her new friends in the house, and resented +it; yet in her own mind a faint comparison +would obtrude itself between his manners +and those of Jimmie Saunders or Mr. Greer, +for instance. The young Scotchman she +had seen regarding Morton with an undisguised +dislike, and this she inwardly resented, +even while herself disliking his bearing +to his aunt—and to her grandmother.</p> + +<p>It was all contradictory and unsatisfying, +and she fell asleep saying over to herself, +"He has come back! He has come back!" +and trying to feel happy.</p> + +<p>Aunt Orella was happy at any rate. She +would not rest until her beloved nephew was +installed in the house, practically turning out +Mr. Gibbs in order to accommodate him. +Morton protested, talked of business and of +having to go away at any time; and Mr. +Gibbs, who still "mealed" with them, secretly +wished he would.</p> + +<p>But Morton did not go away. It was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> +long time since he had been petted and +waited on, and he enjoyed it hugely, treating +his aunt with a serio-comic affection that +was sometimes funny, sometimes disagreeable.</p> + +<p>At least Susie found it so. Her first surprise +over, she fell back on a fund of sound +common sense, strengthened by present experience, +and found a good deal to criticise +in her returned brother. She was so young +when he left, and he had teased her so unmercifully +in those days, that her early +memories of him were rather mixed in sentiment, +and now he appeared, not as the +unquestioned idol of a manless family in a +well-nigh manless town, but as one among +many; and of those many several were easily +his superiors.</p> + +<p>He was her brother, and she loved him, of +course; but there were so many wanting to +be "brothers" if not more, and they were so +much more polite! Morton petted, patronized +and teased her, and she took it all in +good part, as after the manner of brothers, +but his demeanor with other people was not +to her mind.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span></p> + +<p>His adoring aunt, finding no fault whatever +with this well-loved nephew, lavished +upon him the affection of her unused +motherhood, and he seemed to find it a +patent joke, open to everyone, that she +should be so fond.</p> + +<p>To this and, indeed, to his general walk +and conversation, Mrs. Pettigrew took great +exception.</p> + +<p>"Fine boy—Rella's nephew!" she said to +Dr. Bellair late one night when, seeing a +light over her neighbor's transom, she +dropped in for a little chat. Conversation +seemed easier for her here than in the atmosphere +of Bainville.</p> + +<p>"Fine boy—eh? Nice complexion!"</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair was reading a heavy-weight +book by a heavier-weight specialist. She laid +it down, took off her eyeglasses, and rubbed +them.</p> + +<p>"Better not kiss him," she said.</p> + +<p>"I thought as much!" said Grandma. "I +<i>thought</i> as much! Huh!"</p> + +<p>"Nice world, isn't it?" the doctor suggested +genially.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing the matter with the world, that +I know of," her visitor answered.</p> + +<p>"Nice people, then—how's that?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing the matter with the people but +foolishness—plain foolishness. Good land! +Shall we <i>never</i> learn anything!"</p> + +<p>"Not till it's too late apparently," the +doctor gloomily agreed, turning slowly in +her swivel chair. "That boy never was +taught anything to protect him. What did +Rella know? Or for that matter, what do any +boys' fathers and mothers know? Nothing, +you'd think. If they do, they won't teach it +to their children."</p> + +<p>"Time they did!" said the old lady decidedly. +"High time they did! It's never +too late to learn. I've learned a lot out of +you and your books, Jane Bellair. Interesting +reading! I don't suppose you could give +an absolute opinion now, could you?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Dr. Bellair gravely, "no, I +couldn't; not yet, anyway."</p> + +<p>"Well, we've got to keep our eyes open," +Mrs. Pettigrew concluded. "When I think +of that girl of mine——"</p> + +<p>"Yes—or any girl," the doctor added.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span></p> + +<p>"You look out for any girl—that's your +business; I'll look out for mine—if I can."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew's were not the only eyes +to scrutinize Morton Elder. Through the +peep-hole in the swing door to the kitchen, +Jeanne Jeaune watched him darkly with +one hand on her lean chest.</p> + +<p>She kept her watch on whatever went on +in that dining-room, and on the two elderly +waitresses whom she had helped Miss Elder +to secure when the house filled up. They +were rather painfully unattractive, but +seemed likely to stay where no young and +pretty damsel could be counted on for a +year. Morton joked with perseverance +about their looks, and those who were most +devoted to Susie seemed to admire his wit, +while Vivian's special admirers found it +pointless in the extreme.</p> + +<p>"Your waitresses are the limit, Auntie," +he said, "but the cook is all to the good. Is +she a plain cook or a handsome one?"</p> + +<p>"Handsome is as handsome does, young +man," Mrs. Pettigrew pointedly replied. +"Mrs. Jones is a first-class cook and her +looks are neither here nor there."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span></p> + +<p>"You fill me with curiosity," he replied. +"I must go out and make her acquaintance. +I always get solid with the cook; it's worth +while."</p> + +<p>The face at the peep-hole darkened and +turned away with a bitter and determined +look, and Master Theophile was hastened +at his work till his dim intelligence wondered, +and then blessed with an unexpected +cookie.</p> + +<p>Vivian, Morton watched and followed assiduously. +She was much changed from +what he remembered—the young, frightened, +slender girl he had kissed under the +lilac bushes, a kiss long since forgotten +among many.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the very number of his subsequent +acquaintances during a varied and not +markedly successful career in the newer +states made this type of New England +womanhood more marked. Girls he had +known of various sorts, women old and +young had been kind to him, for Morton +had the rough good looks and fluent manner +which easily find their way to the good will +of many female hearts; but this gentle re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span>finement +of manner and delicate beauty had +a novel charm for him.</p> + +<p>Sitting by his aunt at meals he studied +Vivian opposite, he watched her in their few +quiet evenings together, under the soft +lamplight on Miss Elder's beloved "center +table;" and studied her continually in the +stimulating presence of many equally devoted +men.</p> + +<p>All that was best in him was stirred by +her quiet grace, her reserved friendliness; +and the spur of rivalry was by no means +wanting. Both the girls had their full share +of masculine attention in that busy houseful, +each having her own particular devotees, +and the position of comforter to the others.</p> + +<p>Morton became openly devoted to Vivian, +and followed her about, seeking every occasion +to be alone with her, a thing difficult to +accomplish.</p> + +<p>"I don't ever get a chance to see anything +of you," he said. "Come on, take a walk +with me—won't you?"</p> + +<p>"You can see me all day, practically," she +answered. "It seems to me that I never saw +a man with so little to do."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now that's too bad, Vivian! Just because +a fellow's out of a job for a while! It +isn't the first time, either; in my business +you work like—like anything, part of the +time, and then get laid off. I work hard +enough when I'm at it."</p> + +<p>"Do you like it—that kind of work?" the +girl asked.</p> + +<p>They were sitting in the family parlor, +but the big hall was as usual well occupied, +and some one or more of the boarders always +eager to come in. Miss Elder at this moment +had departed for special conference +with her cook, and Susie was at the theatre +with Jimmie Saunders. Fordham Greer +had asked Vivian, as had Morton also, but +she declined both on the ground that she +didn't like that kind of play. Mrs. Pettigrew, +being joked too persistently about +her fondness for "long whist," had retired to +her room—but then, her room was divided +from the parlor only by a thin partition and +a door with a most inefficacious latch.</p> + +<p>"Come over here by the fire," said Morton, +"and I'll tell you all about it."</p> + +<p>He seated himself on a sofa, comfortably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> +adjacent to the fireplace, but Vivian preferred +a low rocker.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you mean travelling—and selling +goods?" he pursued. "Yes, I like it. +There's lots of change—and you meet people. +I'd hate to be shut up in an office."</p> + +<p>"But do you—get anywhere with it? Is +there any outlook for you? Anything worth +doing?"</p> + +<p>"There's a good bit of money to be made, +if you mean that; that is, if a fellow's a good +salesman. I'm no slouch myself, when I +feel in the mood. But it's easy come, easy +go, you see. And it's uncertain. There are +times like this, with nothing doing."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean money, altogether," said +the girl meditatively, "but the work itself; +I don't see any future for you."</p> + +<p>Morton was pleased with her interest. +Reaching between his knees he seized the +edge of the small sofa and dragged it a +little nearer, quite unconscious that the act +was distasteful to her.</p> + +<p>Though twenty-five years old, Vivian was +extremely young in many ways, and her introspection +had spent itself in tending the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> +inner shrine of his early image. That ikon +was now jarringly displaced by this insistent +presence, and she could not satisfy herself +yet as to whether the change pleased or displeased +her. Again and again his manner +antagonized her, but his visible devotion +carried an undeniable appeal, and his voice +stirred the deep well of emotion in her heart.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Vivian," he said, "you've no +idea how it goes through me to have you +speak like that! You see I've been knocking +around here for all this time, and I +haven't had a soul to take an interest. A +fellow needs the society of good women—like +you."</p> + +<p>It is an old appeal, and always reaches +the mark. To any women it is a compliment, +and to a young girl, doubly alluring. As +she looked at him, the very things she most +disliked, his too free manner, his coarsened +complexion, a certain look about the eyes, +suddenly assumed a new interest as proofs +of his loneliness and lack of right companionship. +What Mrs. St. Cloud had told her +of the ennobling influence of a true woman, +flashed upon her mind.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span></p> + +<p>"You see, I had no mother," he said simply—"and +Aunt Rella spoiled me—." He +looked now like the boy she used to know.</p> + +<p>"Of course I ought to have behaved better," +he admitted. "I was ungrateful—I +can see it now. But it did seem to me I +couldn't stand that town a day longer!"</p> + +<p>She could sympathize with this feeling +and showed it.</p> + +<p>"Then when a fellow knocks around as I +have so long, he gets to where he doesn't care +a hang for anything. Seeing you again +makes a lot of difference, Vivian. I think, +perhaps—I could take a new start."</p> + +<p>"Oh do! Do!" she said eagerly. "You're +young enough, Morton. You can do anything +if you'll make up your mind to it."</p> + +<p>"And you'll help me?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll help you—if I can," said +she.</p> + +<p>A feeling of sincere remorse for wasted +opportunities rose in the young man's mind; +also, in the presence of this pure-eyed girl, +a sense of shame for his previous habits. He +walked to the window, his hands in his pockets, +and looked out blankly for a moment.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span></p> + +<p>"A fellow does a lot of things he +shouldn't," he began, clearing his throat; +she met him more than half way with the +overflowing generosity of youth and ignorance:</p> + +<p>"Never mind what you've done, Morton—you're +going to do differently now! +Susie'll be so proud of you—and Aunt +Orella!"</p> + +<p>"And you?" He turned upon her suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Oh—I? Of course! I shall be very +proud of my old friend."</p> + +<p>She met his eyes bravely, with a lovely +look of hope and courage, and again his +heart smote him.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will," he said and straightened +his broad shoulders manfully.</p> + +<p>"Morton Elder!" cried his aunt, bustling +in with deep concern in her voice, "What's +this I hear about you're having a sore +throat?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, I hope," said he cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Now, Morton"—Vivian showed new solicitude—"you +know you have got a sore +throat; Susie told me."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I wish she'd hold her tongue," he +protested. "It's nothing at all—be all right +in a jiffy. No, I won't take any of your +fixings, Auntie."</p> + +<p>"I want Dr. Bellair to look at it anyhow," +said his aunt, anxiously. "She'll know if it's +diphtheritic or anything. She's coming in."</p> + +<p>"She can just go out again," he said with +real annoyance. "If there's anything I've +no use for it's a woman doctor!"</p> + +<p>"Oh hush, hush!" cried Vivian, too late.</p> + +<p>"Don't apologize," said Dr. Bellair from +her doorway. "I'm not in the least offended. +Indeed, I had rather surmised that that was +your attitude; I didn't come in to prescribe, +but to find Mrs. Pettigrew."</p> + +<p>"Want me?" inquired the old lady from +her doorway. "Who's got a sore throat?"</p> + +<p>"Morton has," Vivian explained, "and he +won't let Aunt Rella—why where is she?"</p> + +<p>Miss Elder had gone out as suddenly as +she had entered.</p> + +<p>"Camphor's good for sore throat," Mrs. +Pettigrew volunteered. "Three or four +drops on a piece of sugar. Is it the swelled +kind, or the kind that smarts?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh—Halifax!" exclaimed Morton, disgustedly. +"It isn't <i>any</i> kind. I haven't a +sore throat."</p> + +<p>"Camphor's good for cold sores; you have +one of them anyhow," the old lady persisted, +producing a little bottle and urging it upon +Morton. "Just keep it wet with camphor +as often as you think of it, and it'll go away."</p> + +<p>Vivian looked on, interested and sympathetic, +but Morton put his hand to his lip +and backed away.</p> + +<p>"If you ladies don't stop trying to doctor +me, I'll clear out to-morrow, so there!"</p> + +<p>This appalling threat was fortunately unheard +by his aunt, who popped in again at +this moment, dragging Dr. Hale with her. +Dr. Bellair smiled quietly to herself.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't tell him what I wanted him +for, or he wouldn't have come, I'm sure—doctors +are so funny," said Miss Elder, +breathlessly, "but here he is. Now, Dr. +Hale, here's a foolish boy who won't listen +to reason, and I'm real worried about him. +I want you to look at his throat."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale glanced briefly at Morton's +angry face.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span></p> + +<p>"The patient seems to be of age, Miss Elder; +and, if you'll excuse me, does not seem +to have authorized this call."</p> + +<p>"My affectionate family are bound to have +me an invalid," Morton explained. "I'm in +imminent danger of hot baths, cold presses, +mustard plasters, aconite, belladonna and +quinine—and if I can once reach my hat—"</p> + +<p>He sidled to the door and fled in mock +terror.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your good intentions, +Miss Elder," Dr. Hale remarked drily. +"You can bring water to the horse, but you +can't make him drink it, you see."</p> + +<p>"Now that that young man has gone we +might have a game of whist," Mrs. Pettigrew +suggested, looking not ill-pleased.</p> + +<p>"For which you do not need me in the +least," and Dr. Hale was about to leave, but +Dr. Bellair stopped him.</p> + +<p>"Don't be an everlasting Winter woodchuck, +Dick! Sit down and play; do be +good. I've got to see old Mrs. Graham yet; +she refuses to go to sleep without it—knowing +I'm so near. By by."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew insisted on playing with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span> +Miss Elder, so Vivian had the questionable +pleasure of Dr. Hale as a partner. He was +an expert, used to frequent and scientific +play, and by no means patient with the +girl's mistakes.</p> + +<p>He made no protest at a lost trick, but explained +briefly between hands what she +should have remembered and how the cards +lay, till she grew quite discouraged.</p> + +<p>Her game was but mediocre, played only +to oblige; and she never could see why people +cared so much about a mere pastime. +Pride came to her rescue at last; the more he +criticised, the more determined she grew to +profit by all this advice; but her mind would +wander now and then to Morton, to his +young life so largely wasted, it appeared, +and to what hope might lie before him. Could +she be the help and stimulus he seemed to +think? How much did he mean by asking +her to help him?</p> + +<p>"Why waste a thirteenth trump on your +partner's thirteenth card?" Dr. Hale was +asking.</p> + +<p>She flushed a deep rose color and lifted +appealing eyes to him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do forgive me; my mind was elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Will you not invite it to return?" he +suggested drily.</p> + +<p>He excused himself after a few games, +and the girl at last was glad to have him go. +She wanted to be alone with her thoughts.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew, sitting unaccountably late +at her front window, watched the light burn +steadily in the small office at the opposite +corner. Presently she saw a familiar figure +slip in there, and, after a considerable stay, +come out quietly, cross the street, and let +himself in at their door.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>SIDE LIGHTS.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:32%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">High shines the golden shield in front,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To those who are not blind;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And clear and bright<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In all men's sight,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The silver shield behind.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In breadth and sheen each face is seen;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">How tall it is, how wide;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">But its thinness shows<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To only those<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Who stand on either side.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Theophile wept aloud in the dining-room, +nursing one hand in the +other, like a hurt monkey.</p> + +<p>Most of the diners had departed, but Professor +Toomey and Mr. Cuthbert still lingered +about Miss Susie's corner, to the evident +displeasure of Mr. Saunders, who lingered +also.</p> + +<p>Miss Susie smiled upon them all; and Mr. +Saunders speculated endlessly as to whether +this was due to her general friendliness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> +disposition, to an interest in pleasing her +aunt's boarders, to personal preference, or, +as he sometimes imagined, to a desire to +tease him.</p> + +<p>Morton was talking earnestly with Vivian +at the other end of the table, from which the +two angular waitresses had some time since +removed the last plate. One of them opened +the swing door a crack and thrust her head +in.</p> + +<p>"He's burnt his hand," she said, "and his +Ma's out. We don't dare go near him." +Both of these damsels professed great terror +of the poor boy, though he was invariably +good natured, and as timid as a rabbit.</p> + +<p>"Do get the doctor!" cried Susie, nervously; +she never felt at ease with Theophile.</p> + +<p>"Dr. Bellair, I fear, is not in her office," +Professor Toomey announced. "We might +summon Dr. Hale."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cuthbert, rising +heavily. "He's a great baby, that's all. +Here! Quit that howling and show me your +hand!"</p> + +<p>He advanced upon Theophile, who fled +toward Vivian. Morton rose in her de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span>fence. +"Get out!" he said, "Go back to the +kitchen. There's nothing the matter with +you."</p> + +<p>"Wait till you get burned, and see if you +think it's nothing," Jimmy Saunders remarked +with some acidity. He did not like +Mr. Elder. "Come here youngster, let me +see it."</p> + +<p>But the boy was afraid of all of them, and +cowered in a corner, still bawling. "Stop +your noise," Mr. Cuthbert shouted, "Get +out of this, or I'll put you out."</p> + +<p>Vivian rose to her feet. "You will do +nothing of the kind. If you, all of you, will +go away, I can quiet Theophile, myself."</p> + +<p>Susie went promptly. She had every confidence +in her friend's management. Mr. +Cuthbert was sulky, but followed Susie; and +Mr. Saunders, after some hesitation, followed +Susie, too.</p> + +<p>Morton lingered, distrustful.</p> + +<p>"Please go, Morton. I know how to manage +him. Just leave us alone," Vivian urged.</p> + +<p>"You'd better let me put him out, and +keep him out, till the old woman comes +back," Morton insisted.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span></p> + +<p>"You mean kindly, I don't doubt, but +you're making me very angry," said the girl, +flushing; and he reluctantly left the room. +Professor Toomey had departed long since, +to fulfill his suggestion of calling Dr. Hale, +but when that gentleman appeared, he found +that Vivian had quieted the boy, stayed him +with flagons and comforted him with apples, +as it were, and bound up his hand in wet +cooking soda.</p> + +<p>"It's not a very bad burn," she told the +doctor, "but it hurt, and he was frightened. +He is afraid of everybody but his mother, +and the men were cross to him."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Dr. Hale, watching Theophile +as he munched his apple, keeping carefully +behind Vivian and very near her. "He +does not seem much afraid of you, I notice, +and he's used to me. The soda is all right. +Where did you learn first aid to the injured, +and how to handle—persons of limited understanding?"</p> + +<p>"The former I studied. The latter comes +by nature, I think," replied the girl, annoyed.</p> + +<p>He laughed, rather suddenly. "It's a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span> +good quality, often needed in this world."</p> + +<p>"What's all this rumpus?" demanded +Grandma, appearing at the door. "Waking +me up out of my nap!" Grandma's smooth, +fine, still dark hair, which she wore in "water +waves," was somewhat disarranged, and she +held a little shawl about her.</p> + +<p>"Only the household baby, playing with +fire," Dr. Hale answered. "Miss Lane resolved +herself into a Red Cross society, and +attended to the wounded. However I think +I'll have a look at it now I'm here."</p> + +<p>Then was Vivian surprised, and compelled +to admiration, to see with what wise gentleness +the big man won the confidence of the +frightened boy, examined the hurt hand, +and bound it up again.</p> + +<p>"You'll do, all right, won't you Theophile," +he said, and offered him a shining +nickel and a lozenge, "Which will you have, +old man?"</p> + +<p>After some cautious hesitation the boy +chose the lozenge, and hastily applied it +where it would do the most good.</p> + +<p>"Where's Mrs. Jones all this time?" suddenly +demanded Grandma, who had gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span> +back to her room and fetched forth three +fat, pink gumdrops for the further consolation +of the afflicted.</p> + +<p>"She had to go out to buy clothes for him, +she hardly ever leaves him you know," Vivian +explained. "And the girls out there are +so afraid that they won't take any care of +him."</p> + +<p>This was true enough, but Vivian did not +know that "Mrs. Jones" had returned and, +peering through her favorite peephole, had +seen her send out the others, and attend to +the boy's burn with her own hand. Jeanne +Jeaune was not a sentimental person, and +judged from her son's easy consolation that +he was little hurt, but she watched the girl's +prompt tenderness with tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"She regards him, as any other boy;" +thought the mother. "His infirmity, she does +not recall it." Dr. Hale had long since won +her approval, and when Theophile at last +ran out, eager to share his gumdrops, he +found her busy as usual in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>She was a silent woman, professionally +civil to the waitresses, but never cordial. The +place pleased her, she was saving money, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> +she knew that there must be <i>some</i> waitresses—these +were probably no worse than others. +For her unfortunate son she expected little, +and strove to keep him near her so far as +possible; but Vivian's real kindness touched +her deeply.</p> + +<p>She kept a sharp eye on whatever went on +in the dining-room, and what with the frequent +dances and the little groups which +used to hang about the table after meals, or +fill a corner of the big room for quiet chats, +she had good opportunities.</p> + +<p>Morton's visible devotion she watched with +deep disapproval; though she was not at all +certain that her "young lady" was favorably +disposed toward him. She could see and +judge the feelings of the men, these many +men who ate and drank and laughed and +paid court to both the girls. Dr. Hale's +brusque coldness she accepted, as from a +higher order of being. Susie's gay coquetries +were transparent to her; but Vivian she +could not read so well.</p> + +<p>The girl's deep conscientiousness, her +courtesy and patience with all, and the gentle +way in which she evaded the attentions so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> +persistently offered, were new to Jeanne's +experience. When Morton hung about and +tried always to talk with Vivian exclusively, +she saw her listen with kind attention, but +somehow without any of that answering +gleam which made Susie's blue eyes so irresistible.</p> + +<p>"She has the lovers, but she has <i>no</i> beauty—to +compare with my young lady!" Jeanne +commented inwardly.</p> + +<p>If the sad-eyed Jeanne had been of Scotch +extraction instead of French, she might have +quoted the explanation of the homely widow +of three husbands when questioned by the +good-looking spinster, who closed her inquiry +by saying aggrievedly, "And ye'r na +sae bonny."</p> + +<p>"It's na the bonny that does it," explained +the triple widow, "It's the come hither i' the +een."</p> + +<p>Susie's eyes sparkled with the "come +hither," but those who came failed to make +any marked progress. She was somewhat +more cautious after the sudden approach +and overthrow of Mr. A. Smith; +yet more than one young gentleman boarder<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> +found business called him elsewhere, with +marked suddenness; his place eagerly taken +by another. The Cottonwoods had a waiting +list, now.</p> + +<p>Vivian made friends first, lovers afterward. +Then if the love proved vain, the +friendship had a way of lingering. Hers was +one of those involved and over-conscientious +characters, keenly sensitive to the thought of +duty and to others, pain. She could not +play with hearts that might be hurt in the +handling, nor could she find in herself a +quick and simple response to the appeals +made to her; there were so many things to +be considered.</p> + +<p>Morton studied her with more intensity +than he had ever before devoted to another +human being; his admiration and respect +grew with acquaintance, and all that was +best in him rose in response to her wise, +sweet womanliness. He had the background +of their childhood's common experiences and +her early sentiment—how much he did not +know, to aid him. Then there was the unknown +country of his years of changeful +travel, many tales that he could tell her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> +many more which he found he could not.</p> + +<p>He pressed his advantage, cautiously, +finding the fullest response when he used the +appeal to her uplifting influence. When +they talked in the dining-room the sombre +eye at the peephole watched with growing +disapproval. The kitchen was largely left +to her and her son by her fellow workers, +on account of their nervous dislike for +Theophile, and she utilized her opportunities.</p> + +<p>Vivian had provided the boy with some big +bright picture blocks, and he spent happy +hours in matching them on the white scoured +table, while his mother sewed, and watched. +He had forgotten his burn by now, and she +sewed contentedly for there was no one talking +to her young lady but Dr. Hale, who lingered +unaccountably.</p> + +<p>To be sure, Vivian had brought him a plate +of cakes from the pantry, and he seemed to +find the little brown things efficiently seductive, +or perhaps it was Grandma who held +him, sitting bolt upright in her usual place, +at the head of one table, and asking a series +of firm but friendly questions. This she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span> +found the only way of inducing Dr. Hale to +talk at all.</p> + +<p>Yes, he was going away—Yes, he would +be gone some time—A matter of weeks, perhaps—He +could not say—His boys were all +well—He did not wonder that they saw a +good deal of them—It was a good place for +them to come.</p> + +<p>"You might come oftener yourself," said +Grandma, "and play real whist with me. +These young people play <i>Bridge</i>!" She +used this word with angry scorn, as symbol +of all degeneracy; and also despised +pinochle, refusing to learn it, though any one +could induce her to play bezique. Some of +the more venturous and argumentative, +strove to persuade her that the games were +really the same.</p> + +<p>"You needn't tell me," Mrs. Pettigrew +would say, "I don't want to play any of your +foreign games."</p> + +<p>"But, Madam, bezique is not an English +word," Professor Toomey had insisted, on +one occasion; to which she had promptly responded, +"Neither is 'bouquet!'"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale shook his head with a smile. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span> +had a very nice smile, even Vivian admitted +that. All the hard lines of his face curved +and melted, and the light came into those +deep-set eyes and shone warmly.</p> + +<p>"I should enjoy playing whist with you +very often, Mrs. Pettigrew; but a doctor +has no time to call his own. And a good +game of whist must not be interrupted by +telephones."</p> + +<p>"There's Miss Orella!" said Grandma, as +the front door was heard to open. "She's +getting to be quite a gadder."</p> + +<p>"It does her good, I don't doubt," the doctor +gravely remarked, rising to go. Miss +Orella met him in the hall, and bade him +good-bye with regret. "We do not see much +of you, doctor; I hope you'll be back soon."</p> + +<p>"Why it's only a little trip; you good people +act as if I were going to Alaska," he said, +"It makes me feel as if I had a family!"</p> + +<p>"Pity you haven't," remarked Grandma +with her usual definiteness. Dykeman stood +holding Miss Orella's wrap, with his dry +smile. "Good-bye, Hale," he said. "I'll +chaperon your orphan asylum for you. So +long."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come out into the dining-room," said +Miss Orella, after Dr. Hale had departed. +"I know you must be hungry," and Mr. +Dykeman did not deny it. In his quiet middle-aged +way, he enjoyed this enlarged family +circle as much as the younger fellows, and +he and Mr. Unwin seemed to vie with one +another to convince Miss Orella that life still +held charms for her. Mr. Skee also hovered +about her to a considerable extent, but most +of his devotion was bestowed upon damsels +of extreme youth.</p> + +<p>"Here's one that's hungry, anyhow," remarked +Dr. Bellair, coming out of her office +at the moment, with her usual clean and +clear-starched appearance. "I've been at it +for eighteen hours, with only bites to eat. +Yes, all over; both doing well."</p> + +<p>It was a source of deep self-congratulation +to Dr. Bellair to watch her friend grow +young again in the new atmosphere. To +Susie it appeared somewhat preposterous, +as her Aunt seems to her mind a permanently +elderly person; while to Mrs. Pettigrew +it looked only natural. "Rella's only +a young thing anyway," was her comment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> +But Jane Bellair marked and approved the +added grace of each new gown, the blossoming +of lace and ribbon, the appearance of +long-hoarded bits of family jewelry, things +held "too showy to wear" in Bainville, but +somehow quite appropriate here.</p> + +<p>Vivian and Grandma made Miss Orella sit +down at her own table head, and bustled +about in the pantry, bringing cheese and +crackers, cake and fruit; but the doctor +poked her head through the swing door and +demanded meat.</p> + +<p>"I don't want a refection, I want food," +she said, and Jeanne cheerfully brought her +a plate of cold beef. She was much attached +to Dr. Bellair, for reasons many and good.</p> + +<p>"What I like about this place," said Mrs. +Pettigrew, surveying the scene from the head +of her table, "is that there's always something +going on."</p> + +<p>"What I like about it," remarked Dr. Bellair, +between well-Fletcherized mouthfuls, +"is that people have a chance to grow and +are growing."</p> + +<p>"What I like," Mr. Dykeman looked +about him, and paused in the middle of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> +sentence, as was his wont; "is being beautifully +taken care of and made comfortable—any +man likes that."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella beamed upon him. Emboldened, +he went on: "And what I like most is +the new, delightful"—he was gazing admiringly +at her, and she looked so embarrassed +that he concluded with a wide margin of +safety—"friends I'm making."</p> + +<p>Miss Orella's rosy flush, which had risen +under his steady gaze, ebbed again to her +usual soft pink. Even her coldest critics, +in the most caustic Bainvillian circles, could +never deny that she had "a good complexion." +New England, like old England, loves +roses on the cheeks, and our dry Western +winds play havoc with them. But Miss Orella's +bloomed brighter than at home.</p> + +<p>"It is pleasant," she said softly; "all this +coming and going—and the nice people—who +stay." She looked at no one in particular, +yet Mr. Dykeman seemed pleased.</p> + +<p>"There's another coming, I guess," remarked +Grandma, as a carriage was heard +to stop outside, the gate slammed, and +trunk-burdened steps pounded heavily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> +across the piazza. The bell rang sharply, +Mr. Dykeman opened the door, and the +trunk came in first—a huge one, dumped +promptly on the hall floor.</p> + +<p>Behind the trunk and the man beneath it +entered a lady; slim, elegant, graceful, in a +rich silk dust coat and soft floating veils.</p> + +<p>"My dear Miss Elder!" she said, coming +forward; "and Vivian! Dear Vivian! I +thought you could put me up, somewhere, +and told him to come right here. O—and +please—I haven't a bit of change left in my +purse—will you pay the man?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if it isn't Mrs. St. Cloud," said +Grandma, without any note of welcome in +her voice.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman paid the man; looked at +the trunk, and paid him some more. The +man departed swearing softly at nothing in +particular, and Mr. Dykeman departed also +to his own room.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella's hospitable soul was much +exercised. Refuse shelter to an old acquaintance, +a guest, however unexpected, she could +not; yet she had no vacant room. Vivian, +flushed and excited, moved anew by her old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> +attraction, eagerly helped the visitor take +off her wraps, Mrs. Pettigrew standing the +while, with her arms folded, in the doorway +of her room, her thin lips drawn to a hard +line, as one intending to repel boarders at +any risk to life or limb. Dr. Bellair had returned +to her apartments at the first sound +of the visitor's voice.</p> + +<p>She, gracious and calm in the midst +of confusion, sat in a wreath of down-dropped +silken wrappings, and held Vivian's +hand.</p> + +<p>"You dear child!" she said, "how well you +look! What a charming place this is. The +doctors sent me West for my health; I'm on +my way to California. But when I found +the train stopped here—I didn't know that +it did till I saw the name—I had them take +my trunk right off, and here I am! It is +such a pleasure to see you all."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and disappeared +completely, closing the door behind +her.</p> + +<p>"Anything will do, Miss Elder," the visitor +went on. "I shall find a hall bedroom +palatial after a sleeping car; or a garret<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span>—anything! +It's only for a few days, you +know."</p> + +<p>Vivian was restraining herself from hospitable +offers by remembering that her room +was also Susie's, and Miss Orella well knew +that to give up hers meant sleeping on a +hard, short sofa in that all-too-public parlor. +She was hastily planning in her mind to +take Susie in with her and persuade Mrs. +Pettigrew to harbor Vivian, somewhat deterred +by memories of the old lady's expression +as she departed, when Mr. Dykeman +appeared at the door, suitcase in hand.</p> + +<p>"I promised Hale I'd keep house for those +fatherless boys, you know," he said. "In +the meantime, you're quite welcome to use +my room, Miss Elder." And he departed, +her blessing going with him.</p> + +<p>More light refreshments were now in +order. Mrs. St. Cloud protesting that she +wanted nothing, but finding much to praise +in the delicacies set before her. Several of +the other boarders drifted in, always glad of +an extra bite before going to bed. Susie and +Mr. Saunders returned from a walk, Morton +reappeared, and Jeanne, peering sharply in,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span> +resentful of this new drain upon her pantry +shelves, saw a fair, sweet-faced woman, +seated at ease, eating daintily, while Miss +Elder and Vivian waited upon her, and the +men all gathered admiringly about. Jeanne +Jeaune wagged her head. "Ah, ha, Madame!" +she muttered softly, "Such as you I have +met before!" Theophile she had long since +sent to bed, remaining up herself to keep an +eye on the continued disturbance in the front +of the house. Vivian and Susie brought the +dishes out, and would have washed them or +left them till morning for the maids.</p> + +<p>"Truly, no," said Jeanne Jeaune; "go you +to your beds; I will attend to these."</p> + +<p>One by one she heard them go upstairs, +distant movement and soft dissuasion as +two gentlemen insisted on bearing Mrs. St. +Cloud's trunk into her room, receding voices +and closing doors. There was no sound in +the dining-room now, but still she waited; +the night was not yet quiet.</p> + +<p>Miss Elder and Susie, Vivian also, hovered +about, trying to make this new guest +comfortable, in spite of her graceful protests +that they must not concern themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> +in the least about her, that she wanted nothing—absolutely +nothing. At last they left +her, and still later, after some brief exchange +of surprised comment and warm appreciation +of Mr. Dykeman's thoughtfulness, the +family retired. Vivian, when her long hair +was smoothly braided for the night, felt an +imperative need for water.</p> + +<p>"Don't you want some, Susie? I'll bring +you a glass." But Susie only huddled the +bedclothes about her pretty shoulders and +said:</p> + +<p>"Don't bring me <i>anything</i>, until to-morrow +morning!"</p> + +<p>So her room-mate stole out softly in her +wrapper, remembering that a pitcher of cool +water still stood on one of the tables. The +windows to the street let in a flood of light +from a big street lamp, and she found her +way easily, but was a bit startled for a moment +to find a man still sitting there, his +head upon his arms.</p> + +<p>"Why, Morton," she said; "is that you? +What are you sitting up for? It's awfully +late. I'm just after some water." She +poured a glassful. "Don't you want some?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, thank you," he said. "Yes, I will. +Give me some, please."</p> + +<p>The girl gave him a glass, drank from her +own and set it down, turning to go, but +he reached out and caught a flowing sleeve +of her kimono.</p> + +<p>"Don't go, Vivian! Do sit down and talk +to a fellow. I've been trying to see you for +days and days."</p> + +<p>"Why, Morton Elder, how absurd! You +have certainly seen me every day, and we've +talked hours this very evening. This is no +time for conversation, surely."</p> + +<p>"The best time in the world," he assured +her. "All the other times there are people +about—dozens—hundreds—swarms! I want +to talk to just you."</p> + +<p>There were certainly no dozens or hundreds +about now, but as certainly there was +one, noting with keen and disapproving interest +this midnight tête-à-tête. It did not +last very long, and was harmless and impersonal +enough while it lasted.</p> + +<p>Vivian sat for a few moments, listening +patiently while the young man talked of his +discouragements, his hopes, his wishes to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span> +succeed in life, to be worthy of her; but when +the personal note sounded, when he tried to +take her hand in the semi-darkness, then her +New England conscience sounded also, and +she rose to her feet and left him.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk about that another time," she +said. "Now do be quiet and do not wake +people up."</p> + +<p>He stole upstairs, dutifully, and she +crept softly back to her room and got into +bed, without eliciting more than a mild +grunt from sleepy Susie. Silence reigned +at last in the house. Not for long, however.</p> + +<p>At about half past twelve Dr. Bellair was +roused from a well-earned sleep by a light, +insistent tap upon her door. She listened, +believing it to be a wind-stirred twig; but +no, it was a finger tap—quiet—repeated. +She opened the door upon Jeanne in her +stocking feet.</p> + +<p>"Your pardon, Mrs. Doctor," said the +visitor, "but it is of importance. May I +speak for a little? No, I'm not ill, and we +need not a light."</p> + +<p>They sat in the clean little office, the sway<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span>ing +cottonwood boughs making a changeful +pattern on the floor.</p> + +<p>"You are a doctor, and you can make an +end to it—you must make an end to it," said +Jeanne, after a little hesitation. "This young +man—this nephew—he must not marry my +young lady."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think he wants to?" +asked the doctor.</p> + +<p>"I have seen, I have heard—I know," said +Jeanne. "You know, all can see that he +loves her. <i>He!</i> Not such as he for my +young lady."</p> + +<p>"Why do you object to him, Jeanne?"</p> + +<p>"He has lived the bad life," said the woman, +grimly.</p> + +<p>"Most young men are open to criticism," +said Dr. Bellair. "Have you anything +definite to tell me—anything that you could +<i>prove</i>?—if it were necessary to save her?" +She leaned forward, elbows on knees.</p> + +<p>Jeanne sat in the flickering shadows, +considering her words. "He has had the +sickness," she said at last.</p> + +<p>"Can you prove that?"</p> + +<p>"I can prove to you, a doctor, that Coralie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> +and Anastasia and Estelle—they have had it. +They are still alive; but not so beautiful."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but how can you prove it on him?"</p> + +<p>"I know he was with them. Well, it was +no secret. I myself have seen—he was there +often."</p> + +<p>"How on earth have you managed not to +be recognized?" Dr. Bellair inquired after a +few moments.</p> + +<p>Jeanne laughed bitterly. "That was eight +years ago; he was but a boy—gay and foolish, +with the others. What does a boy know?... +Also, at that time I was blonde, and—of +a difference."</p> + +<p>"I see," said the doctor, "I see! That's +pretty straight. You know personally of +that time, and you know the record of those +others. But that was a long time ago."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of him since, many times, +in such company," said Jeanne. They sat +in silence for some time. A distant church +clock struck a single deep low note. The +woman rose, stood for a hushed moment, +suddenly burst forth with hushed intensity: +"You must save her, doctor—you will! I +was young once," she went on. "I did not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span> +know—as she does not. I married, and—<i>that</i> +came to me! It made me a devil—for +awhile. Tell her, doctor—if you must; tell +her about my boy!"</p> + +<p>She went away, weeping silently, and Dr. +Bellair sat sternly thinking in her chair, and +fell asleep in it from utter weariness.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>A MIXTURE.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:25%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In poetry and painting and fiction we see<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such praise for the Dawn of the Day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We've long since been convinced that a sunrise must be<br /></span> +<span class="i1">All Glorious and Golden and Gay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But we find there are mornings quite foggy and drear,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With the clouds in a low-hanging pall;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Till the grey light of daylight can hardly make clear<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That the sun has arisen at all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Dr. Richard Hale left his +brood of temporary orphans without +really expecting for them any +particular oversight from Andrew Dykeman; +but the two were sufficiently close +friends to well warrant the latter in moving +over to The Monastery—as Jimmie Saunders +called it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman was sufficiently popular +with the young men to be welcome, even if +he had not had a good excuse, and when +they found how super-excellent his excuse +was they wholly approved.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span></p> + +<p>To accommodate Miss Orella was something—all +the boys liked Miss Orella. They +speculated among themselves on her increasing +youth and good looks, and even exchanged +sagacious theories as to the particular +acting cause. But when they found +that Mr. Dykeman's visit was to make room +for the installation of Mrs. St. Cloud, they +were more than pleased.</p> + +<p>All the unexpressed ideals of masculine +youth seemed centered in this palely graceful +lady; the low, sweet voice, the delicate +hands, the subtle sympathy of manner, the +nameless, quiet charm of dress.</p> + +<p>Young Burns became her slave on sight, +Lawson and Peters fell on the second day; +not one held out beyond the third. Even +Susie's attractions paled, her very youth became +a disadvantage; she lacked that large +considering tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Fact is," Mr. Peters informed his friends +rather suddenly, "young women are selfish. +Naturally, of course. It takes some experience +to—well, to understand a fellow." They +all agreed with him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman, quiet and reserved as al<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span>ways, +was gravely polite to the newcomer, +and Mr. Skee revolved at a distance, making +observations. Occasionally he paid some +court to her, at which times she was cold to +him; and again he devoted himself to the +other ladies with his impressive air, as of one +bowing low and sweeping the floor with a +plumed hat.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee's Stetson had, as a matter of +fact, no sign of plumage, and his bows were +of a somewhat jerky order; but his gallantry +was sweeping and impressive, none the less. +If he remained too far away Mrs. St. Cloud +would draw him to her circle, which consisted +of all the other gentlemen.</p> + +<p>There were two exceptions. Mr. James +Saunders had reached the stage where any +woman besides Susie was but a skirted ghost, +and Morton was by this time so deeply devoted +to Vivian that he probably would not +have wavered even if left alone. He was +not wholly a free agent, however.</p> + +<p>Adela St. Cloud had reached an age when +something must be done. Her mysterious +absent husband had mysteriously and absently +died, and still she never breathed a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> +word against him. But the Bible Class in +Bainville furnished no satisfactory material +for further hopes, the place of her earlier +dwelling seemed not wholly desirable now, +and the West had called her.</p> + +<p>Finding herself comfortably placed in Mr. +Dykeman's room, and judging from the +number of his shoe-trees and the quality of +his remaining toilet articles that he might be +considered "suitable," she decided to remain +in the half-way house for a season. So settled, +why, for a thousand reasons one must +keep one's hand in.</p> + +<p>There were men in plenty, from twenty +year old Archie to the uncertain decades of +Mr. Skee. Idly amusing herself, she questioned +that gentleman indirectly as to his +age, drawing from him astounding memories +of the previous century.</p> + +<p>When confronted with historic proof that +the events he described were over a hundred +years passed, he would apologize, admitting +that he had no memory for dates. She owned +one day, with gentle candor, to being thirty-three.</p> + +<p>"That must seem quite old to a man like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> +you, Mr. Skee. I feel very old sometimes!" +She lifted large eyes to him, and drew her +filmy scarf around her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Your memory must be worse than mine, +ma'am," he replied, "and work the same way. +You've sure got ten or twenty years added +on superfluous! Now me!" He shook his +head; "I don't remember when I was born +at all. And losin' my folks so young, <i>and</i> +the family Bible—I don't expect I ever +shall. But I 'low I'm all of ninety-seven."</p> + +<p>This being palpably impossible, and as the +only local incidents he could recall in his +youth were quite dateless adventures among +the Indians, she gave it up. Why Mr. Skee +should have interested her at all was difficult +to say, unless it was the appeal to his +uncertainty—he was at least a game fish, if +not edible.</p> + +<p>Of the women she met, Susie and Vivian +were far the most attractive, wherefore Mrs. +St. Cloud, with subtle sympathy and engaging +frankness, fairly cast Mr. Saunders in +Susie's arms, and vice versa, as opportunity +occurred.</p> + +<p>Morton she rather snubbed, treated him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> +as a mere boy, told tales of his childhood that +were in no way complimentary—so that he +fled from her.</p> + +<p>With Vivian she renewed her earlier influence +to a great degree.</p> + +<p>With some inquiry and more intuition she +discovered what it was that had chilled the +girl's affection for her.</p> + +<p>"I don't wonder, my dear child," she said; +"I never told you of that—I never speak of +it to anyone.... It was one of the—" +she shivered slightly—"darkest griefs of a +very dark time.... He was a beautiful +boy.... I never <i>dreamed</i>——"</p> + +<p>The slow tears rose in her beautiful eyes +till they shone like shimmering stars.</p> + +<p>"Heaven send no such tragedy may ever +come into your life, dear!"</p> + +<p>She reached a tender hand to clasp the +girl's. "I am so glad of your happiness!"</p> + +<p>Vivian was silent. As a matter of fact, +she was not happy enough to honestly accept +sympathy. Mrs. St. Cloud mistook +her attitude, or seemed to.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you still blame me. Many +people did. I often blame myself. One can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span>not +be <i>too</i> careful. It's a terrible responsibility, +Vivian—to have a man love you."</p> + +<p>The girl's face grew even more somber. +That was one thing which was troubling her.</p> + +<p>"But your life is all before you," pursued +the older woman. "Your dream has come +true! How happy—how wonderfully happy +you must be!"</p> + +<p>"I am not, not <i>really</i>," said the girl. "At +least——"</p> + +<p>"I know—I know; I understand," Mrs. +St. Cloud nodded with tender wisdom. "You +are not sure. Is not that it?"</p> + +<p>That was distinctly "it," and Vivian so +agreed.</p> + +<p>"There is no other man?"</p> + +<p>"Not the shadow of one!" said the girl +firmly. And as her questioner had studied +the field and made up her mind to the same +end, she believed her.</p> + +<p>"Then you must not mind this sense of +uncertainty. It always happens. It is part +of the morning clouds of maidenhood, my +dear—it vanishes with the sunrise!" And +she smiled beatifically.</p> + +<p>Then the girl unburdened herself of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span> +perplexities. She could always express herself +so easily to this sympathetic friend.</p> + +<p>"There are so many things that I—dislike—about +him," she said. "Habits of speech—of +manners. He is not—not what I——"</p> + +<p>She paused.</p> + +<p>"Not all the Dream! Ah! My dear child, +they never are! We are given these beautiful +ideals to guard and guide us; but the real +is never quite the same. But when a man's +soul opens to you—when he loves—these +small things vanish. They can be changed—you +will change them."</p> + +<p>"Yes—he says so," Vivian admitted. "He +says that he knows that he is—unworthy—and +has done wrong things. But so have I, +for that matter."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud agreed with her. "I am +glad you feel that, my dear. Men have their +temptations—their vices—and we good women +are apt to be hard on them. But have +we no faults? Ah, my dear, I have seen +good women—young girls, like yourself—ruin +a man's whole life by—well, by heartlessness; +by lack of understanding. Most +young men do things they become ashamed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">182</a></span> +of when they really love. And in the case +of a motherless boy like this—lonely, away +from his home, no good woman's influence +about—what else could we expect? But you +can make a new man of him. A glorious +work!"</p> + +<p>"That's what he says. I'm not so sure—" +The girl hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Not sure you can? Oh, my child, it is +the most beautiful work on earth! To see +from year to year a strong, noble character +grow under your helping hand! To be the +guiding star, the inspiration of a man's life. +To live to hear him say:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Ah, who am I that God should bow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From heaven to choose a wife for me?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What have I done He should endow<br /></span> +<span class="i1">My home with thee?'"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>There was a silence.</p> + +<p>Vivian's dark eyes shone with appreciation +for the tender beauty of the lines, the +lovely thought. Then she arose and walked +nervously across the floor, returning presently.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. St. Cloud——"</p> + +<p>"Call me Adela, my dear."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">183</a></span></p> + +<p>"Adela—dear Adela—you—you have +been married. I have no mother. Tell me, +ought not there to be more—more love? I'm +fond of Morton, of course, and I do want to +help him—but surely, if I loved him—I +should feel happier—more sure!"</p> + +<p>"The first part of love is often very confusing, +my dear. I'll tell you how it is: just +because you are a woman grown and feel +your responsibilities, especially here, where +you have so many men friends, you keep +Morton at a distance. Then the external +sort of cousinly affection you have for him +rather blinds you to other feelings. But I +have not forgotten—and I'm sure you have +not—the memory of that hot, sweet night +so long ago; the world swimming in summer +moonlight and syringa sweetness; the stillness +everywhere—and your first kiss!"</p> + +<p>Vivian started to her feet. She moved to +the window and stood awhile; came back and +kissed her friend warmly, and went away +without another word.</p> + +<p>The lady betook herself to her toilet, and +spent some time on it, for there was one of +Miss Peeder's classes that night.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">184</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud danced with many, but +most with Mr. Dykeman; no woman in the +room had her swimming grace of motion, +and yet, with all the throng of partners about +her she had time to see Susie's bright head +bobbing about beneath Mr. Saunders down-bent, +happy face, and Vivian, with her eyes +cast down, dancing with Morton, whose gaze +never left her. He was attention itself, he +brought her precisely the supper she liked, +found her favorite corner to rest in, took her +to sit on the broad piazza between dances, +remained close to her, still talking earnestly, +when all the outsiders had gone.</p> + +<p>Vivian found it hard to sleep that night. +All that he had said of his new hope, new +power, new courage, bore out Mrs. St. +Cloud's bright promise of a new-built life. +And some way, as she had listened and did +not forbid, the touch of his hand, the pressure +of his arm, grew warmer and brought +back the memories of that summer night so +long ago.</p> + +<p>He had begged hard for a kiss before he +left her, and she quite had to tear herself +away, as Susie drifted in, also late; and Aunt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">185</a></span> +Orella said they must all go to bed right +away—she was tired if they were not.</p> + +<p>She did look tired. This dance seemed +somehow less agreeable to her than had +others. She took off her new prettinesses +and packed them away in a box in the lower +drawer.</p> + +<p>"I'm an old fool!" she said. "Trying to +dress up like a girl. I'm ashamed of myself!" +Quite possibly she did not sleep well +either, yet she had no room-mate to keep her +awake by babbling on, as Susie did to Vivian.</p> + +<p>Her discourse was first, last and always +about Jimmie Saunders. He had said this, +he had looked that, he had done so; and what +did Vivian think he meant? And wasn't he +handsome—and <i>so</i> clever!</p> + +<p>Little Susie cuddled close and finally +dropped off asleep, her arms around Vivian. +But the older girl counted the hours; her +head, or her heart, in a whirl.</p> + +<p>Morton Elder was wakeful, too. So much +so that he arose with a whispered expletive, +took his shoes in his hand, and let himself +softly out for a tramp in the open.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">186</a></span></p> + +<p>This was not the first of his love affairs, +but with all his hot young heart he wished it +was. He stood still, alone on the high +stretches of moonlit mesa and looked up at +the measureless, brilliant spaces above him.</p> + +<p>"I'll keep straight—if I can have her!" he +repeated under his breath. "I will! I will!"</p> + +<p>It had never occurred to him before to be +ashamed of the various escapades of his +youth. He had done no more than others, +many others. None of "the boys" he associated +with intended to do what was wrong; +they were quite harsh in judgment of those +who did, according to their standards. None +of them had been made acquainted with the +social or pathological results of their amusements, +and the mere "Zutritt ist Verboten" +had never impressed them at all.</p> + +<p>But now the gentler influences of his childhood, +even the narrow morality of Bainville, +rose in pleasant colors in his mind. He +wished he had saved his money, instead of +spending it faster than it came in. He +wished he had kept out of poker and solo and +barrooms generally. He wished, in a dumb, +shamed way, that he could come to her as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">187</a></span> +clean as she was. But he threw his shoulders +back and lifted his head determinedly.</p> + +<p>"I'll be good to her," he determined; "I'll +make her a good husband."</p> + +<p>In the days that followed his devotion was +as constant as before, but more intelligent. +His whole manner changed and softened. +He began to read the books she liked, and +to talk about them. He was gentler to +everyone, more polite, even to the waitresses, +tender and thoughtful of his aunt and sister. +Vivian began to feel a pride in him, and in +her influence, deepening as time passed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew, visiting the library on one +of her frequent errands, was encountered +there and devotedly escorted home by Mr. +Skee.</p> + +<p>"That is a most fascinating young lady +who has Mr. Dykeman's room; don't you +think so, ma'am?" quoth he.</p> + +<p>"I do not," said Mrs. Pettigrew. "Young! +She's not so young as you are—nothing like—never +was!"</p> + +<p>He threw back his head and laughed his +queer laugh, which looked so uproarious and +made so little noise.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">188</a></span></p> + +<p>"She certainly is a charmer, whatever her +age may be," he continued.</p> + +<p>"Glad you think so, Mr. Skee. It may be +time you lost a fourth!"</p> + +<p>"Lost a fourth? What in the—Hesperides!"</p> + +<p>"If you can't guess what, you needn't ask +me!" said the lady, with some tartness. "But +for my own part I prefer the Apaches. Good +afternoon, Mr. Skee."</p> + +<p>She betook herself to her room with unusual +promptness, and refused to be baited +forth by any kind of offered amusement.</p> + +<p>"It's right thoughtful of Andy Dykeman, +gettin' up this entertainment for Mrs. St. +Cloud, isn't it, Mrs. Elder?" Thus Mr. +Skee to Miss Orella a little later.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it is Mr. Dykeman's idea +at all," she told him. "It's those boys over +there. They are all wild about her, quite +naturally." She gave a little short sigh. "If +Dr. Hale were at home I doubt if he would +encourage it."</p> + +<p>"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't, Ma'am. +He's certainly down on the fair sex, even +such a peacherino as this one. But with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">189</a></span> +Andy, now, it's different. He is a man of +excellent judgment."</p> + +<p>"I guess all men's judgment is pretty +much alike in some ways," said Miss Orella, +oracularly. She seemed busy and constrained, +and Mr. Skee drifted off and paid +court as best he might to Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"Charmed to find you at home, Ma'am," +he said; "or shall I say at office?"</p> + +<p>"Call it what you like, Mr. Skee; it's been +my home for a good many years now."</p> + +<p>"It's a mighty fine thing for a woman, +livin' alone, to have a business, seems to me," +remarked the visitor.</p> + +<p>"It's a fine thing for any woman, married +or single, to my mind," she answered. "I +wish I could get Vivian Lane started in that +kindergarten she talks about."</p> + +<p>"There's kids enough, and goodness +knows they need a gardener! What's +lackin'? House room?"</p> + +<p>"She thinks she's not really competent. +She has no regular certificate, you see. Her +parents would never let go of her long +enough," the doctor explained.</p> + +<p>"Some parents <i>are</i> pretty graspin', ain't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">190</a></span> +they? To my mind, Miss Vivian would be a +better teacher than lots of the ticketed ones. +She's got the natural love of children."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and she has studied a great deal. +She just needs an impetus."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps if she thought there was 'a call' +she might be willing. I doubt if the families +here realize what they're missin'. Aint there +some among your patients who could be +stirred up a little?"</p> + +<p>The doctor thought there were, and he +suggested several names from his apparently +unlimited acquaintance.</p> + +<p>"I believe in occupation for the young. It +takes up their minds," said Mr. Skee, and +departed with serenity. He strolled over to +Dr. Hale's fence and leaned upon it, watching +the preparations. Mr. Dykeman, in his +shirt-sleeves, stood about offering suggestions, +while the young men swarmed here and +there with poles and stepladders, hanging +Chinese lanterns.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Elmer; come in and make yourself +useful," called Mr. Dykeman.</p> + +<p>"I'll come in, but I'll be switched if I'll be +useful," he replied, laying a large hand on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">191</a></span> +the fence and vaulting his long legs over it +with an agility amazing in one of his alleged +years. "You all are sure putting yourself +out for this occasion. Is it somebody's birthday?"</p> + +<p>"No; it's a get-up of these youngsters. +They began by wanting Mrs. St. Cloud to +come over to tea—afternoon tea—and now +look at this!"</p> + +<p>"Did she misunderstand the invitation as +bad as that?"</p> + +<p>"O, no; just a gradual change of plan. +One thing leads to another, you know. Here, +Archie! That bush won't hold the line. Put +it on the willow."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mr. Skee; "and, as we're +quotin' proverbs, I might remark that 'While +the cat's away the mice will play.'"</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman smiled. "It's rather a good +joke on Hale, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Would be if he should happen to come +home—and find this hen-party on." They +both chuckled.</p> + +<p>"I guess he's good for a week yet," said +Mr. Dykeman. "Those medical associations<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">192</a></span> +do a lot of talking. Higher up there, George—a +good deal higher."</p> + +<p>He ran over to direct the boys, and Mr. +Skee, hands behind him, strolled up and +down the garden, wearing a meditative smile. +He and Andrew Dykeman had been friends +for many long years.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair used her telephone freely after +Mr. Skee's departure, making notes and lists +of names. Late in the afternoon she found +Vivian in the hall.</p> + +<p>"I don't see much of you these days, Miss +Lane," she said.</p> + +<p>The girl flushed. Since Mrs. St. Cloud's +coming and their renewed intimacy she had +rather avoided the doctor, and that lady had +kept herself conspicuously out of the way.</p> + +<p>"Don't call me Miss Lane; I'm Vivian—to +my friends."</p> + +<p>"I hope you count me a friend?" said Dr. +Bellair, gravely.</p> + +<p>"I do, Doctor, and I'm proud to. But so +many things have been happening lately," +she laughed, a little nervously. "The truth +is, I'm really ashamed to talk to you; I'm +so lazy."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">193</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's exactly what I wanted to speak +about. Aren't you ready to begin that little +school of yours?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to—I should, really," said the +girl. "But, somehow, I don't know how to +set about it."</p> + +<p>"I've been making some inquiries," said +the doctor. "There are six or eight among +my patients that you could count on—about +a dozen young ones. How many could you +handle?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I oughtn't to have more than twenty +in any case. A dozen would be plenty to begin +with. Do you think I <i>could</i> count on +them—really?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you what I'll do," her friend offered; +"I'll take you around and introduce +you to any of them you don't know. Most +of 'em come here to the dances. There's +Mrs. Horsford and Mrs. Blake, and that little +Mary Jackson with the twins. You'll +find they are mostly friends."</p> + +<p>"You are awfully kind," said the girl. "I +wish"—her voice took on a sudden note of +intensity—"I do wish I were strong, like +you, Dr. Bellair."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">194</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wasn't very strong—at your age—my +child. I did the weakest of weak things—"</p> + +<p>Vivian was eager to ask her what it was, +but a door opened down one side passage +and the doctor quietly disappeared down the +other, as Mrs. St. Cloud came out.</p> + +<p>"I thought I heard your voice," she said. +"And Miss Elder's, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"No; it was Dr. Bellair."</p> + +<p>"A strong character, and a fine physician, +I understand. I'm sorry she does not like +me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud's smile made it seem impossible +that anyone should dislike her.</p> + +<p>Vivian could not, however, deny the fact, +and was not diplomatic enough to smooth it +over, which her more experienced friend proceeded +to do.</p> + +<p>"It is temperamental," she said gently. +"If we had gone to school together we would +not have been friends. She is strong, downright, +progressive; I am weaker, more sensitive, +better able to bear than to do. You +must find her so stimulating."</p> + +<p>"Yes," the girl said. "She was talking to +me about my school."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">195</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your school?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you know I meant to have a sort +of kindergarten? We planned it even before +starting; but Miss Elder seemed to need +me at first, and since then—things—have +happened——"</p> + +<p>"And other things will happen, dear child! +Quite other and different things."</p> + +<p>The lady's smile was bewitching. Vivian +flushed slowly under her gaze.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, I watched you dancing together! +You don't mind my noticing, do +you?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was suddenly tender and respectful. +"I do not wish to intrude, but you +are very dear to me. Come into my room—do—and +tell me what to wear to-night."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud's clothes had always been +a delight to Vivian. They were what she +would have liked to wear—and never quite +have dared, under the New England fear of +being "too dressy." Her own beauty was +kept trimly neat, like a closed gentian.</p> + +<p>Her friend was in the gayest mood. She +showed her a trunkful of delicate garments +and gave her a glittering embroidered scarf,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">196</a></span> +which the girl rapturously admired, but declared +she would never have the courage to +wear.</p> + +<p>"You shall wear it this very night," declared +the lady. "Here—show me what +you've got. You shall be as lovely as you +<i>are</i>, for once!"</p> + +<p>So Vivian brought out her modest wardrobe, +and the older woman chose a gown of +white, insisted on shortening the sleeves to +fairy wings of lace, draped the scarf about +her white neck, raised the soft, close-bound +hair to a regal crown, and put a shining star +in it, and added a string of pearls on the +white throat.</p> + +<p>"Look at yourself now, child!" she said.</p> + +<p>Vivian looked, in the long depths of Mr. +Dykeman's mirror. She knew that she had +beauty, but had never seen herself so brilliantly +attired. Erect, slender, graceful, the +long lines of her young body draped in soft +white, and her dark head, crowned and shining, +poised on its white column, rising from +the shimmering lace. Her color deepened as +she looked, and added to the picture.</p> + +<p>"You shall wear it to-night! You shall!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">197</a></span> +cried her admiring friend. "To please me—if +no one else!"</p> + +<p>Whether to please her or someone else, +Vivian consented, the two arriving rather +late at the garden party across the way.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman, looking very tall and fine +in his evening clothes, was a cordial host, +ably seconded by the eager boys about him.</p> + +<p>The place was certainly a credit to their +efforts, the bare rooms being turned to bowers +by vines and branches brought from the +mountains, and made fragrant by piled +flowers. Lights glimmered through colored +shades among the leaves, and on the dining +table young Peters, who came from Connecticut, +had rigged a fountain by means of +some rubber tubing and an auger hole in the +floor. This he had made before Mr. Dykeman +caught him, and vowed Dr. Hale would +not mind. Mr. Peters' enjoyment of the +evening, however, was a little dampened by +his knowledge of the precarious nature of +this arrangement. He danced attendance +on Mrs. St. Cloud, with the others, but wore +a preoccupied expression, and stole in once +or twice from the lit paths outside to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">198</a></span> +sure that all was running well. It was well +to and during supper time, and the young +man was complimented on his ingenuity.</p> + +<p>"Reminds me of the Hanging Gardens of +Babylon," said Mr. Skee, sentimentally.</p> + +<p>"Why?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>why</i>, Ma'am? How can a fellow +say why?" he protested. "Because it is so—so +efflorescent, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Reminds me of a loose faucet," said she, +<i>sotto voce</i>, to Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters beamed triumphantly, but in +the very hour of his glory young Burns, +hastening to get a cup of coffee for his fair +one, tripped over the concealed pipe, and the +fountain poured forth its contributions +among the feet of the guests.</p> + +<p>This was a minor misadventure, however, +hurting no one's feeling but Mr. Peters', and +Mrs. St. Cloud was so kind to him in consequence +that he was envied by all the others.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman was attentive to his guests, +old and young, but Mrs. Pettigrew had not +her usual smile for him; Miss Orella declined +to dance, alleging that she was too tired, and +Dr. Bellair somewhat dryly told him that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">199</a></span> +need not bother with her. He was hardly to +be blamed if he turned repeatedly to Mrs. +St. Cloud, whose tactful sweetness was always +ready. She had her swarm of young +admirers about her, yet never failed to find +a place for her host, a smile and a word of +understanding.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were everywhere. She watched +Mr. Skee waltzing with the youngest, providing +well-chosen refreshments for Miss +Orella, gallantly escorting Grandma to see +the "Lovers' Lane" they had made at the +end of the garden. Its twin lines of lights +were all outside; within was grateful shadow.</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud paced through this fragrant +arbor with each and every one of the +receiving party, uttering ever-fresh expressions +of admiration and gratitude for their +kind thoughtfulness, especially to Mr. Dykeman.</p> + +<p>When she saw Susie and Mr. Saunders +go in at the farther end, she constituted herself +a sort of protective agency to keep every +one else out, holding them in play with various +pleasant arts.</p> + +<p>And Vivian? When she arrived there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">200</a></span> +a little gasp from Morton, who was waiting +for her near the door. She was indeed a +sight to make a lover's heart leap. He had +then, as it were, surrounded her. Vainly did +the others ask for dances. Morton had unblushingly +filled out a card with his own +name and substituted it for the one she +handed him. She protested, but the music +sounded and he whirled her away before she +could expostulate to any avail.</p> + +<p>His eyes spoke his admiration, and for +once his tongue did not spoil the impression.</p> + +<p>Half laughing and half serious, she let +him monopolize her, but quite drove him +away when Mr. Dykeman claimed his dance.</p> + +<p>"All filled up!" said Morton for her, showing +his card.</p> + +<p>"Mine was promised yesterday, was it not, +Miss Lane?" said the big man, smiling. And +she went with him. He took her about the +garden later, gravely admiring and attentive, +and when Susie fairly rushed into her +arms, begging her to come and talk with her, +he left them both in a small rose-crowned +summer-house and went back to Mrs. St. +Cloud.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Vivian, Vivian! What do you +think!" Susie's face was buried on Vivian's +shoulder. "I'm engaged!"</p> + +<p>Vivian held her close and kissed her soft +hair. Her joyous excitement was contagious.</p> + +<p>"He's the nicest man in the world!" +breathed Susie, "and he loves me!"</p> + +<p>"We all supposed he did. Didn't you +know it before?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, in a way; but, Vivian—he kissed +me!"</p> + +<p>"Well, child, have you never in all your +little life been kissed before?"</p> + +<p>Susie lifted a rosy, tearful face for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Never, never, never!" she said. "I +thought I had, but I haven't! Oh, I am so +happy!"</p> + +<p>"What's up?" inquired Morton, appearing +with a pink lantern in his hand, in impatient +search for his adored one. "Susie—crying?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm <i>not</i>," she said, and ran forthwith +back to the house, whence Jimmy was +bringing her ice cream.</p> + +<p>Vivian started to follow her.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, no, Vivian; don't go. Wait." He +dropped the lantern and took her hands. The +paper cover flared up, showing her flushed +cheeks and starry eyes. He stamped out +the flame, and in the sudden darkness caught +her in his arms.</p> + +<p>For a moment she allowed him, turning +her head away. He kissed her white shoulder.</p> + +<p>"No! No, Morton—don't! You mustn't!"</p> + +<p>She tried to withdraw herself, but he held +her fast. She could feel the pounding of +his heart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Vivian, don't say no! You will marry +me, won't you? Some day, when I'm +more worth while. Say you will! Some +day—if not now. I love you so; I need you +so! Say yes, Vivian."</p> + +<p>He was breathing heavily. His arms held +her motionless. She still kept her face +turned from him.</p> + +<p>"Let me go, Morton; let me go! You +hurt me!"</p> + +<p>"Say yes, dear, and I'll let you go—for +a little while."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vivian.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span></p> + +<p>The ground jarred beside them, as a tall +man jumped the hedge boundary. He stood +a moment, staring.</p> + +<p>"Well, is this my house, or Coney Island?" +they heard him say. And then Morton +swore softly to himself as Vivian left +him and came out.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Dr. Hale," she said, a +little breathlessly. "We weren't expecting +you so soon."</p> + +<p>"I should judge not," he answered. +"What's up, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"The boys—and Mr. Dykeman—are giving +a garden party for Mrs. St. Cloud."</p> + +<p>"For whom?"</p> + +<p>"For Adela St. Cloud. She is visiting us. +Aren't you coming in?"</p> + +<p>"Not now," he said, and was gone without +another word.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>CONSEQUENCES.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:25%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">You may have a fondness for grapes that are green,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the sourness that greenness beneath;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">You may have a right<br /></span> +<span class="i4">To a colic at night—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But consider your children's teeth!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Dr. Hale retired from his gaily +illuminated grounds in too much +displeasure to consider the question +of dignity. One suddenly acting +cause was the news given him by Vivian. +The other was the sight of Morton Elder's +face as he struck a match to light his +cigarette.</p> + +<p>Thus moved, and having entered and left +his own grounds like a thief in the night, he +proceeded to tramp in the high-lying outskirts +of the town until every light in his +house had gone out. Then he returned, let +himself into his office, and lay there on a +lounge until morning.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span></p> + +<p>Vivian had come out so quickly to greet +the doctor from obscure motives. She felt +a sudden deep objection to being found +there with Morton, a wish to appear as one +walking about unconcernedly, and when +that match glow made Morton's face shine +out prominently in the dark shelter, she, too, +felt a sudden displeasure.</p> + +<p>Without a word she went swiftly to the +house, excused herself to her Grandmother, +who nodded understandingly, and returned +to The Cottonwoods, to her room. She felt +that she must be alone and think; think of +that irrevocable word she had uttered, and +its consequences.</p> + +<p>She sat at her window, rather breathless, +watching the rows of pink lanterns swaying +softly on the other side of the street; hearing +the lively music, seeing young couples +leave the gate and stroll off homeward.</p> + +<p>Susie's happiness came more vividly to +mind than her own. It was so freshly joyous, +so pure, so perfectly at rest. She could +not feel that way, could not tell with decision +exactly how she did feel. But if this +was happiness, it was not as she had imag<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span>ined +it. She thought of that moonlit summer +night so long ago, and the memory of +its warm wonder seemed sweeter than the +hasty tumult and compulsion of to-night.</p> + +<p>She was stirred through and through by +Morton's intense emotion, but with a sort of +reaction, a wish to escape. He had been so +madly anxious, he had held her so close; +there seemed no other way but to yield to +him—in order to get away.</p> + +<p>And then Dr. Hale had jarred the whole +situation. She had to be polite to him, in +his own grounds. If only Morton had kept +still—that grating match—his face, bent and +puffing, Dr. Hale must have seen him. And +again she thought of little Susie with almost +envy. Even after that young lady had +come in, bubbled over with confidences and +raptures, and finally dropped to sleep without +Vivian's having been able to bring herself +to return the confidences, she stole back +to her window again to breathe.</p> + +<p>Why had Dr. Hale started so at the name +of Mrs. St. Cloud? That was puzzling her +more than she cared to admit. By and by +she saw his well-known figure, tall and erect,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> +march by on the other side and go into the +office.</p> + +<p>"O, well," she sighed at last, "I'm not +young, like Susie. Perhaps it <i>is</i> like this—"</p> + +<p>Now Morton had been in no special need +of that cigarette at that special moment, but +he did not wish to seem to hide in the dusky +arbor, nor to emerge lamely as if he had +hidden. So he lit the match, more from +habit than anything else. When it was out, +and the cigarette well lighted, he heard the +doctor's sudden thump on the other side of +the fence and came out to rejoin Vivian. +She was not there.</p> + +<p>He did not see her again that night, and +his meditations were such that next day +found him, as a lover, far more agreeable to +Vivian than the night before. He showed +real understanding, no triumph, no airs of +possession; took no liberties, only said: +"When I am good enough I shall claim you—my +darling!" and looked at her with such +restrained longing that she quite warmed +to him again.</p> + +<p>He held to this attitude, devoted, +quietly affectionate; till her sense of rebel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span>lion +passed away and her real pleasure in +his improvement reasserted itself. As they +read together, if now and then his arm stole +around her waist, he always withdrew it when +so commanded. Still, one cannot put the +same severity into a prohibition too often repeated. +The constant, thoughtful attention +of a man experienced in the art of pleasing +women, the new and frankly inexperienced +efforts he made to meet her highest thoughts, +to learn and share her preferences, both +pleased her.</p> + +<p>He was certainly good looking, certainly +amusing, certainly had become a better man +from her companionship. She grew to feel +a sort of ownership in this newly arisen character; +a sort of pride in it. Then, she had +always been fond of Morton, since the time +when he was only "Susie's big brother." +That counted.</p> + +<p>Another thing counted, too, counted heavily, +though Vivian never dreamed of it and +would have hotly repudiated the charge. She +was a woman of full marriageable age, with +all the unused powers of her woman's nature +calling for expression, quite unrecognized.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span></p> + +<p>He was a man who loved her, loved her +more deeply than he had ever loved before, +than he had even known he could love; who +quite recognized what called within him and +meant to meet the call. And he was near +her every day.</p> + +<p>After that one fierce outbreak he held +himself well in check. He knew he had +startled her then, almost lost her. And with +every hour of their companionship he felt +more and more how much she was to him. +Other women he had pursued, overtaken, +left behind. He felt that there was something +in Vivian which was beyond him, giving +a stir and lift of aspiration which he +genuinely enjoyed.</p> + +<p>Day by day he strove to win her full approval, +and day by day he did not neglect +the tiny, slow-lapping waves of little tendernesses, +small affectionate liberties at well-chosen +moments, always promptly withdrawing +when forbidden, but always beginning +again a little further on.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair went to Dr. Hale's office and +sat herself down solidly in the patient's +chair.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dick," she said, "are you going to stand +for this?"</p> + +<p>"Stand for what, my esteemed but cryptic +fellow-practitioner?"</p> + +<p>She eyed his calm, reserved countenance +with friendly admiration. "You are an +awfully good fellow, Dick, but dull. At the +same time dull and transparent. Are you +going to sit still and let that dangerous patient +of yours marry the finest girl in town?"</p> + +<p>"Your admiration for girls is always +stronger than mine, Jane; and I have, if you +will pardon the boast, more than one patient."</p> + +<p>"All right, Dick—if you want it made +perfectly clear to your understanding. Do +you mean to let Morton Elder marry Vivian +Lane?"</p> + +<p>"What business is it of mine?" he demanded, +more than brusquely—savagely.</p> + +<p>"You know what he's got."</p> + +<p>"I am a physician, not a detective. And I +am not Miss Lane's father, brother, uncle +or guardian."</p> + +<p>"Or lover," added Dr. Bellair, eyeing him +quietly. She thought she saw a second's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span> +flicker of light in the deep gray eyes, a possible +tightening of set lips. "Suppose you +are not," she said; "nor even a humanitarian. +You <i>are</i> a member of society. Do you +mean to let a man whom you know has no +right to marry, poison the life of that splendid +girl?"</p> + +<p>He was quite silent for a moment, but she +could see the hand on the farther arm of his +chair grip it till the nails were white.</p> + +<p>"How do you know he—wishes to marry +her?"</p> + +<p>"If you were about like other people, you +old hermit, you'd know it as well as anybody. +I think they are on the verge of an +engagement, if they aren't over it already. +Once more, Dick, shall you do anything?"</p> + +<p>"No," said he. Then, as she did not add +a word, he rose and walked up and down +the office in big strides, turning upon her +at last.</p> + +<p>"You know how I feel about this. It is a +matter of honor—professional honor. You +women don't seem to know what the word +means. I've told that good-for-nothing +young wreck that he has no right to marry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> +for years yet, if ever. That is all I can do. +I will not betray the confidence of a patient."</p> + +<p>"Not if he had smallpox, or scarlet fever, +or the bubonic plague? Suppose a patient +of yours had the leprosy, and wanted to +marry your sister, would you betray his confidence?"</p> + +<p>"I might kill my sister," he said, glaring +at her. "I refuse to argue with you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think you'd better refuse," she +said, rising. "And you don't have to kill +Vivian Lane, either. A man's honor always +seems to want to kill a woman to satisfy it. +I'm glad I haven't got the feeling. Well, +Dick, I thought I'd give you a chance to +come to your senses, a real good chance. +But I won't leave you to the pangs of unavailing +remorse, you poor old goose. That +young syphilitic is no patient of mine." And +she marched off to perform a difficult duty.</p> + +<p>She was very fond of Vivian. The girl's +unselfish sweetness of character and the +depth of courage and power she perceived +behind the sensitive, almost timid exterior, +appealed to her. If she had had a daughter, +perhaps she would have been like that. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> +she had had a daughter would she not have +thanked anyone who would try to save her +from such a danger? From that worse than +deadly peril, because of which she had no +daughter.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair was not the only one who +watched Morton's growing devotion with +keen interest. To his aunt it was a constant +joy. From the time her boisterous little +nephew had come to rejoice her heart and +upset her immaculate household arrangements, +and had played, pleasantly though +tyrannically, with the little girl next door, +Miss Orella had dreamed this romance for +him. To have it fail was part of her grief +when he left her, to have it now so visibly +coming to completion was a deep delight.</p> + +<p>If she had been blind to his faults, she was +at least vividly conscious of the present sudden +growth of virtues. She beamed at him +with affectionate pride, and her manner to +Mrs. Pettigrew was one of barely subdued +"I told you so." Indeed, she could not restrain +herself altogether, but spoke to that +lady with tender triumph of how lovely it +was to have Morton so gentle and nice.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span></p> + +<p>"You never did like the boy, I know, but +you must admit that he is behaving beautifully +now."</p> + +<p>"I will," said the old lady; "I'll admit it +without reservation. He's behaving beautifully—now. +But I'm not going to talk +about him—to you, Orella." So she rolled +up her knitting work and marched off.</p> + +<p>"Too bad she's so prejudiced and opinionated," +said Miss Elder to Susie, rather +warmly. "I'm real fond of Mrs. Pettigrew, +but when she takes a dislike——"</p> + +<p>Susie was so happy herself that she seemed +to walk in an aura of rosy light. Her Jimmie +was so evidently the incarnation of +every masculine virtue and charm that he +lent a reflected lustre to other men, even to +her brother. Because of her love for Jimmie, +she loved Morton better—loved everybody +better. To have her only brother +marry her dearest friend was wholly pleasant +to Susie.</p> + +<p>It was not difficult to wring from Vivian +a fair knowledge of how things stood, for, +though reserved by nature, she was utterly +unused to concealing anything, and could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> +not tell an efficient lie if she wanted to.</p> + +<p>"Are you engaged or are you not, you +dear old thing?" demanded Susie.</p> + +<p>And Vivian admitted that there was "an +understanding." But Susie absolutely must +not speak of it.</p> + +<p>For a wonder she did not, except to Jimmie. +But people seemed to make up their +minds on the subject with miraculous agreement. +The general interest in the manifold +successes of Mrs. St. Cloud gave way to this +vivid personal interest, and it was discussed +from two sides among their whole circle of +acquaintance.</p> + +<p>One side thought that a splendid girl was +being wasted, sacrificed, thrown away, on a +disagreeable, good-for-nothing fellow. The +other side thought the "interesting" Mr. Elder +might have done better; they did not +know what he could see in her.</p> + +<p>They, that vaguely important They, before +whom we so deeply bow, were also +much occupied in their mind by speculations +concerning Mr. Dykeman and two Possibilities. +One quite patently possible, even +probable, giving rise to the complacent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> +"Why, anybody could see that!" and the +other a fascinatingly impossible Possibility +of a sort which allows the even more complacent +"Didn't you? Why, I could see it +from the first."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman had been a leading citizen +in that new-built town for some ten years, +which constituted him almost the Oldest Inhabitant. +He was reputed to be extremely +wealthy, though he never said anything +about it, and neither his clothing nor his +cigars reeked of affluence. Perhaps nomadic +chambermaids had spread knowledge of +those silver-backed appurtenances, and the +long mirror. Or perhaps it was not woman's +gossip at all, but men's gossip, +which has wider base, and wider circulation, +too.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman had certainly "paid attentions" +to Miss Elder. Miss Elder had undeniably +brightened and blossomed most becomingly +under these attentions. He had +danced with her, he had driven with her, he +had played piquet with her when he might +have played whist. To be sure, he did these +things with other ladies, and had done them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> +for years past, but this really looked as if +there might be something in it.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee, as Mr. Dykeman's oldest +friend, was even questioned a little; but it +was not very much use to question Mr. Skee. +His manner was not repellant, and not in the +least reserved. He poured forth floods of +information so voluminous and so varied +that the recipient was rather drowned than +fed. So opinions wavered as to Mr. Dykeman's +intentions.</p> + +<p>Then came this lady of irresistible charm, +and the unmarried citizens of the place fell +at her feet as one man. Even the married +ones slanted over a little.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman danced with her, more than +he had with Miss Elder. Mr. Dykeman +drove with her, more than he had with Miss +Elder. Mr. Dykeman played piquet with +her, and chess, which Miss Elder could not +play. And Miss Elder's little opening petals +of ribbon and lace curled up and withered +away; while Mrs. St. Cloud's silken efflorescence, +softly waving and jewel-starred, +flourished apace.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair had asked Vivian to take a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> +walk with her; and they sat together, resting, +on a high lonely hill, a few miles out of +town.</p> + +<p>"It's a great pleasure to see this much of +you, Dr. Bellair," said the girl, feeling really +complimented.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you won't think so, my dear, +when you hear what I have to say: what I +<i>have</i> to say."</p> + +<p>The girl flushed a little. "Are you going +to scold me about something? Have I done +anything wrong?" Her eyes smiled bravely. +"Go on, Doctor. I know it will be for my +best good."</p> + +<p>"It will indeed, dear child," said the doctor, +so earnestly that Vivian felt a chill of +apprehension.</p> + +<p>"I am going to talk to you 'as man to +man' as the story books say; as woman to +woman. When I was your age I had been +married three years."</p> + +<p>Vivian was silent, but stole out a soft sympathetic +hand and slipped it into the older +woman's. She had heard of this early-made +marriage, also early broken; with various<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> +dark comments to which she had paid no attention.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair was Dr. Bellair, and she had +a reverential affection for her.</p> + +<p>There was a little silence. The Doctor +evidently found it hard to begin. "You love +children, don't you, Vivian?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes kindled, and a heavenly +smile broke over her face. "Better than +anything in the world," she said.</p> + +<p>"Ever think about them?" asked her +friend, her own face whitening as she spoke. +"Think about their lovely little soft helplessness—when +you hold them in your arms +and have to do <i>everything</i> for them. Have +to go and turn them over—see that the little +ear isn't crumpled—that the covers are all +right. Can't you see 'em, upside down on +the bath apron, grabbing at things, perfectly +happy, but prepared to howl when it comes +to dressing? And when they are big enough +to love you! Little soft arms that will +hardly go round your neck. Little soft +cheeks against yours, little soft mouths and +little soft kisses,—ever think of them?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes were like stars. She was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> +looking into the future; her breath came +quickly; she sat quite still.</p> + +<p>The doctor swallowed hard, and went on. +"We mostly don't go much farther than +that at first. It's just the babies we want. +But you can look farther—can follow up, +year by year, the lovely changing growing +bodies and minds, the confidence and love +between you, the pride you have as health +is established, strength and skill developed, +and character unfolds and deepens.</p> + +<p>"Then when they are grown, and sort of +catch up, and you have those splendid young +lives about you, intimate strong friends and +tender lovers. And you feel as though +you had indeed done something for the +world."</p> + +<p>She stopped, saying no more for a little, +watching the girl's awed shining face. Suddenly +that face was turned to her, full of exquisite +sympathy, the dark eyes swimming +with sudden tears; and two soft eager arms +held her close.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Doctor! To care like that and +not—!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear;" said the doctor, quietly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> +"And not have any. Not be able to have +any—ever."</p> + +<p>Vivian caught her breath with pitying intensity, +but her friend went on.</p> + +<p>"Never be able to have a child, because I +married a man who had gonorrhea. In place +of happy love, lonely pain. In place of +motherhood, disease. Misery and shame, +child. Medicine and surgery, and never +any possibility of any child for me."</p> + +<p>The girl was pale with horror. "I—I +didn't know—" She tried to say something, +but the doctor burst out impatiently:</p> + +<p>"No! You don't know. I didn't know. +Girls aren't taught a word of what's before +them till it's too late—not <i>then</i>, sometimes! +Women lose every joy in life, every hope, +every capacity for service or pleasure. They +go down to their graves without anyone's +telling them the cause of it all."</p> + +<p>"That was why you—left him?" asked +Vivian presently.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I left him. When I found I could +not be a mother I determined to be a doctor, +and save other women, if I could." She said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> +this with such slow, grave emphasis that Vivian +turned a sudden startled face to her, +and went white to the lips.</p> + +<p>"I may be wrong," the doctor said, "you +have not given me your confidence in this +matter. But it is better, a thousand times +better, that I should make this mistake than +for you to make that. You must not marry +Morton Elder."</p> + +<p>Vivian did not admit nor deny. She still +wore that look of horror.</p> + +<p>"You think he has—That?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know whether he has gonorrhea +or not; it takes a long microscopic analysis +to be sure; but there is every practical assurance +that he's had it, and I know he's +had syphilis."</p> + +<p>If Vivian could have turned paler she +would have, then.</p> + +<p>"I've heard of—that," she said, shuddering.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the other is newer to our knowledge, +far commoner, and really more dangerous. +They are two of the most terrible diseases +known to us; highly contagious, and in the +case of syphilis, hereditary. Nearly three-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span>quarters +of the men have one or the other, +or both."</p> + +<p>But Vivian was not listening. Her face +was buried in her hands. She crouched low +in agonized weeping.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, come, my dear. Don't take +it so hard. There's no harm done you see, +it's not too late."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it <i>is</i> too late! It is!" wailed the girl. +"I have promised to marry him."</p> + +<p>"I don't care if you were at the altar, child; +you <i>haven't</i> married him, and you mustn't."</p> + +<p>"I have given my word!" said the girl +dully. She was thinking of Morton now. +Of his handsome face, with it's new expression +of respectful tenderness; of all the +hopes they had built together; of his life, +so dependent upon hers for its higher interests.</p> + +<p>She turned to the doctor, her lips quivering. +"He <i>loves</i> me!" she said. "I—we—he +says I am all that holds him up, that helps +him to make a newer better life. And he has +changed so—I can see it! He says he has +loved me, really, since he was seventeen!"</p> + +<p>The older sterner face did not relax.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span></p> + +<p>"He told me he had—done wrong. He +was honest about it. He said he wasn't—worthy."</p> + +<p>"He isn't," said Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"But surely I owe some duty to him. He +depends on me. And I have promised—"</p> + +<p>The doctor grew grimmer. "Marriage is +for motherhood," she said. "That is its initial +purpose. I suppose you might deliberately +forego motherhood, and undertake a +sort of missionary relation to a man, but +that is not marriage."</p> + +<p>"He loves me," said the girl with gentle +stubbornness. She saw Morton's eyes, as +she had so often seen them lately; full of +adoration and manly patience. She felt his +hand, as she had felt it so often lately, holding +hers, stealing about her waist, sometimes +bringing her fingers to his lips for a strong +slow kiss which she could not forget for +hours.</p> + +<p>She raised her head. A new wave of feeling +swept over her. She saw a vista of self-sacrificing +devotion, foregoing much, forgiving +much, but rejoicing in the companionship +of a noble life, a soul rebuilt, a love that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span> +was passionately grateful. Her eyes met +those of her friend fairly. "And I love +him!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell that to your crippled children?" +asked Dr. Bellair. "Will they understand +it if they are idiots? Will they see it +if they are blind? Will it satisfy you when +they are dead?"</p> + +<p>The girl shrank before her.</p> + +<p>"You <i>shall</i> understand," said the doctor. +"This is no case for idealism and exalted +emotion. Do you want a son like Theophile?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you said—they didn't have +any."</p> + +<p>"Some don't—that is one result. Another +result—of gonorrhea—is to have children +born blind. Their eyes may be saved, with +care. But it is not a motherly gift for one's +babies—blindness. You may have years and +years of suffering yourself—any or all of +those diseases 'peculiar to women' as we used +to call them! And we pitied the men who +'were so good to their invalid wives'! You +may have any number of still-born children, +year after year. And every little marred +dead face would remind you that you allowed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> +it! And they may be deformed and twisted, +have all manner of terrible and loathsome +afflictions, they and their children after them, +if they have any. And many do! dear girl, +don't you see that's wicked?"</p> + +<p>Vivian was silent, her two hands wrung +together; her whole form shivering with +emotion.</p> + +<p>"Don't think that you are 'ruining his +life,'" said the doctor kindly. "He ruined +it long ago—poor boy!"</p> + +<p>The girl turned quickly at the note of +sympathy.</p> + +<p>"They don't know either," her friend went +on. "What could Miss Orella do, poor little +saint, to protect a lively young fellow like +that! All they have in their scatter-brained +heads is 'it's naughty but it's nice!' And +so they rush off and ruin their whole lives—and +their wives'—and their children's. A +man don't have to be so very wicked, either, +understand. Just one mis-step may be +enough for infection."</p> + +<p>"Even if it did break his heart, and yours—even +if you both lived single, he because it +is the only decent thing he can do now, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> +because of a misguided sense of devotion; +that would be better than to commit this +plain sin. Beware of a biological sin, my +dear; for it there is no forgiveness."</p> + +<p>She waited a moment and went on, as +firmly and steadily as she would have held +the walls of a wound while she placed the +stitches.</p> + +<p>"If you two love each other so nobly and +devotedly that it is higher and truer and +more lasting than the ordinary love of men +and women, you might be 'true' to one another +for a lifetime, you see. And all that +friendship can do, exalted influence, noble +inspiration—that is open to you."</p> + +<p>Vivian's eyes were wide and shining. She +saw a possible future, not wholly unbearable.</p> + +<p>"Has he kissed you yet?" asked the doctor +suddenly.</p> + +<p>"No," she said. "That is—except——"</p> + +<p>"Don't let him. You might catch it. +Your friendship must be distant. Well, +shall we be going back? I'm sorry, my dear. +I did hate awfully to do it. But I hated +worse to see you go down those awful steps +from which there is no returning."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," said Vivian. "Thank you. Won't +you go on, please? I'll come later."</p> + +<p>An hour the girl sat there, with the clear +blue sky above her, the soft steady wind +rustling the leaves, the little birds that +hopped and pecked and flirted their tails so +near her motionless figure.</p> + +<p>She thought and thought, and through all +the tumult of ideas it grew clearer to her +that the doctor was right. She might sacrifice +herself. She had no right to sacrifice +her children.</p> + +<p>A feeling of unreasoning horror at this +sudden outlook into a field of unknown evil +was met by her clear perception that if she +was old enough to marry, to be a mother, she +was surely old enough to know these things; +and not only so, but ought to know them.</p> + +<p>Shy, sensitive, delicate in feeling as the +girl was, she had a fair and reasoning mind.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>DETERMINATION.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:30%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">You may shut your eyes with a bandage,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The while world vanishes soon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You may open your eyes at a knothole<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And see the sun and moon.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>It must have grieved anyone who cared +for Andrew Dykeman, to see Mrs. +St. Cloud's manner toward him +change with his changed circumstances—she +had been so much with him, had been +so kind to him; kinder than Carston comment +"knew for a fact," but not kinder than +it surmised.</p> + +<p>Then, though his dress remained as quietly +correct, his face assumed a worn and +anxious look, and he no longer offered her +long auto rides or other expensive entertainment. +She saw men on the piazza stop talking +as he came by, and shake their heads as +they looked after him; but no one would tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> +her anything definite till she questioned Mr. +Skee.</p> + +<p>"I am worried about Mr. Dykeman," she +said to this ever-willing confidant, beckoning +him to a chair beside her.</p> + +<p>A chair, to the mind of Mr. Skee, seemed +to be for pictorial uses, only valuable as +part of the composition. He liked one to +stand beside, to put a foot on, to lean over +from behind, arms on the back; to tip up in +front of him as if he needed a barricade; +and when he was persuaded to sit in one, +it was either facing the back, cross-saddle +and bent forward, or—and this was +the utmost decorum he was able to approach—tipped +backward against the wall.</p> + +<p>"He does not look well," said the lady, +"you are old friends—do tell me; if it is +anything wherein a woman's sympathy +would be of service?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not, Ma'am," replied Mr. +Skee darkly. "Andy's hard hit in a worse +place than his heart. I wouldn't betray a +friend's confidence for any money, Ma'am; +but this is all over town. It'll go hard with +Andy, I'm afraid, at his age."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she whispered. "So +sorry! But surely with a man of his abilities +it will be only a temporary reverse!—"</p> + +<p>"Dunno 'bout the abilities—not in this +case. Unless he has ability enough to discover +a mine bigger'n the one he's lost! You +see, Ma'am, it's this way," and he sunk his +voice to a confidential rumble. "Andy had +a bang-up mine, galena ore—not gold, you +understand, but often pays better. And he +kept on putting the money it made back into +it to make more. Then, all of a sudden, it +petered out! No more eggs in that basket. +'Course he can't sell it—now. And last +year he refused half a million. Andy's sure +down on his luck."</p> + +<p>"But he will recover! You western men +are so wonderful! He will find another +mine!"</p> + +<p>"O yes, he <i>may</i>! Certainly he <i>may</i>, +Ma'am. Not that he found this one—he +just bought it."</p> + +<p>"Well—he can buy another, there are +more, aren't there?"</p> + +<p>"Sure there are! There's as good mines +in the earth as ever was salted—that's my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> +motto! But Andy's got no more money to +buy any mines. What he had before he inherited. +No, Ma'am," said Mr. Skee, with +a sigh. "I'm afraid its all up with Andy +Dykeman financially!"</p> + +<p>This he said more audibly; and Miss Elder +and Miss Pettigrew, sitting in their parlor, +could not help hearing. Miss Elder gave a +little gasp and clasped her hands tightly, +but Miss Pettigrew arose, and came outside.</p> + +<p>"What's this about Mr. Dykeman?" she +questioned abruptly. "Has he had losses?"</p> + +<p>"There now," said Mr. Skee, remorsefully, +"I never meant to give him away like +that. Mrs. Pettigrew, Ma'am, I must beg +you not to mention it further. I was only +satisfyin' this lady here, in answer to sympathetic +anxiety, as to what was making Andrew +H. Dykeman so down in the mouth. +Yes'm—he's lost every cent he had in the +world, or is likely to have. Of course, +among friends, he'll get a job fast enough, +bookkeepin', or something like that—though +he's not a brilliant man, Andy isn't. You +needn't to feel worried, Mrs. Pettigrew; +he'll draw a salary all right, to the end of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span> +time; but he's out of the game of Hot +Finance."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew regarded the speaker with +a scintillating eye. He returned her look +with unflinching seriousness. "Have a chair, +Ma'am," he said. "Let me bring out your +rocker. Sit down and chat with us."</p> + +<p>"No, thanks," said the old lady. "It seems +to me a little—chilly, out here. I'll go in."</p> + +<p>She went in forthwith, to find Miss Orella +furtively wiping her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What are you crying about, Orella +Elder! Just because a man's lost his money? +That happens to most of 'em now and then."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know—but you heard what he +said. Oh, I can't believe it! To think of his +having to be provided for by his friends—and +having to take a small salary—after being +so well off! I am so sorry for him!"</p> + +<p>Miss Elder's sorrow was increased to intensity +by noting Mrs. St. Cloud's changed +attitude. Mr. Dykeman made no complaint, +uttered no protest, gave no confidences; but +it soon appeared that he was working in an +office; and furthermore that this position was +given him by Mr. Skee.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span></p> + +<p>That gentleman, though discreetly reticent +as to his own affairs, now appeared in +far finer raiment than he had hitherto affected; +developed a pronounced taste in fobs +and sleeve buttons; and a striking harmony +in socks and scarfs.</p> + +<p>Men talked openly of him; no one seemed +to know anything definite, but all were certain +that "Old Skee must have struck it +rich."</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee kept his own counsel; but became +munificent in gifts and entertainments. +He produced two imposing presents for +Susie; one a "betrothal gift," the other a +conventional wedding present.</p> + +<p>"This is a new one to me," he said when +he offered her the first; "but I understand +it's the thing. In fact I'm sure of it—for +I've consulted Mrs. St. Cloud and she helped +me to buy 'em."</p> + +<p>He consulted Mrs. St. Cloud about a dinner +he proposed giving to Mr. Saunders—"one +of these Farewell to Egypt affairs," +he said. "Not that I imagine Jim Saunders +ever was much of a—Egyptian—but +then——!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></p> + +<p>He consulted her also about Vivian—did +she not think the girl looked worn and ill? +Wouldn't it be a good thing to send her off +for a trip somewhere?</p> + +<p>He consulted her about a library; said he +had always wanted a library of his own, but +the public ones were somewhat in his way. +How many books did she think a man ought +really to own—to spend his declining years +among. Also, and at considerable length +he consulted her about the best possible place +of residence.</p> + +<p>"I'm getting to be an old man, Mrs. St. +Cloud," he remarked meditatively; "and I'm +thinking of buying and building somewhere. +But it's a ticklish job. Lo! these many years +I've been perfectly contented to live wherever +I was at; and now that I'm considering +a real Home—blamed if I know where +to put it! I'm distracted between A Model +Farm, and A Metropolitan Residence. +Which would you recommend, Ma'am?"</p> + +<p>The lady's sympathy and interest warmed +to Mr. Skee as they cooled to Mr. Dykeman, +not with any blameworthy or noticeable +suddenness, but in soft graduations, steady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> +and continuous. The one wore his new +glories with an air of modest pride; making +no boast of affluence; and the other accepted +that which had befallen him without rebellion.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella's tender heart was deeply +touched. As fast as Mrs. St. Cloud gave +the cold shoulder to her friend, she extended +a warm hand; when they chatted about Mr. +Skee's visible success, she spoke bravely of +the beauty of limited means; and when it was +time to present her weekly bills to the boarders, +she left none in Mr. Dykeman's room. +This he took for an oversight at first; but +when he found the omission repeated on the +following week, he stood by his window +smiling thoughtfully for some time, and then +went in search of Miss Orella.</p> + +<p>She sat by her shaded lamp, alone, knitting +a silk tie which was promptly hidden as +he entered. He stood by the door looking +at her in spite of her urging him to be seated, +observing the warm color in her face, the +graceful lines of her figure, the gentle +smile that was so unfailingly attractive. +Then he came forward, calmly inquir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span>ing, +"Why haven't you sent me my board +bill?"</p> + +<p>She lifted her eyes to his, and dropped +them, flushing. "I—excuse me; but I +thought——"</p> + +<p>"You thought I couldn't conveniently pay +it?"</p> + +<p>"O please excuse me! I didn't mean to +be—to do anything you wouldn't like. But +I did hear that you were—temporarily embarrassed. +And I want you to feel sure, Mr. +Dykeman, that to your real friends it makes +no difference in the <i>least</i>. And if—for a +while that is—it should be a little more convenient +to—to defer payment, please feel +perfectly at liberty to wait!"</p> + +<p>She stood there blushing like a girl, her +sweet eyes wet with shining tears that did +not fall, full of tender sympathy for his misfortune.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard that I've lost all my +money?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She nodded softly.</p> + +<p>"And that I can't ever get it back—shall +have to do clerk's work at a clerk's salary—as +long as I live?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span></p> + +<p>Again she nodded.</p> + +<p>He took a step or two back and forth in +the quiet parlor, and returned to her.</p> + +<p>"Would you marry a poor man?" he +asked in a low tender voice. "Would you +marry a man not young, not clever, not rich, +but who loved you dearly? You are the +sweetest woman I ever saw, Orella Elder—will +you marry me?"</p> + +<p>She came to him, and he drew her close +with a long sigh of utter satisfaction. "Now +I am rich indeed," he said softly.</p> + +<p>She held him off a little. "Don't talk +about being rich. It doesn't matter. If +you like to live here—why this house will +keep us both. If you'd rather have a little +one—I can live <i>so</i> happily—on <i>so</i> little! +And there is my own little home in Bainville—perhaps +you could find something to do +there. I don't care the least in the world—so +long as you love me!"</p> + +<p>"I've loved you since I first set eyes on +you," he answered her. "To see the home +you've made here for all of us was enough to +make any man love you. But I thought +awhile back that I hadn't any chance—you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> +weren't jealous of that Artificial Fairy, were +you?"</p> + +<p>And conscientiously Miss Orella lied.</p> + +<p>Carston society was pleased, but not surprised +at Susie's engagement; it was both +pleased and surprised when Miss Elder's +was announced. Some there were who protested +that they had seen it from the beginning; +but disputatious friends taxed them +with having prophesied quite otherwise.</p> + +<p>Some thought Miss Elder foolish to take +up with a man of full middle age, and with +no prospects; and others attributed the foolishness +to Mr. Dykeman, in marrying an old +maid. Others again darkly hinted that he +knew which side his bread was buttered—"and +first-rate butter, too." Adding that +they "did hate to see a man sit around and +let his wife keep boarders!"</p> + +<p>In Bainville circles the event created high +commotion. That one of their accumulated +maidens, part of the Virgin Sacrifice of New +England, which finds not even a Minotaur—had +thus triumphantly escaped from their +ranks and achieved a husband; this was flatly +heretical. The fact that he was a poor man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> +was the only mitigating circumstance, leaving +it open to the more captious to criticize +the lady sharply.</p> + +<p>But the calm contentment of Andrew +Dykeman's face, and the decorous bliss of +Miss Elder's were untroubled by what anyone +thought or said.</p> + +<p>Little Susie was delighted, and teased +for a double wedding; without success. +"One was enough to attend to, at one time," +her aunt replied.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>In all this atmosphere of wooings and +weddings, Vivian walked apart, as one in a +bad dream that could never end. That day +when Dr. Bellair left her on the hill, left her +alone in a strange new horrible world, was +still glaring across her consciousness, the end +of one life, the bar to any other. Its small +events were as clear to her as those which +stand out so painfully on a day of death; +all that led up to the pleasant walk, when an +eager girl mounted the breezy height, and +a sad-faced woman came down from it.</p> + +<p>She had waited long and came home +slowly, dreading to see a face she knew,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> +dreading worst of all to see Morton. The +boy she had known so long, the man she was +beginning to know, had changed to an unbelievable +horror; and the love which had so +lately seemed real to her recoiled upon her +heart with a sense of hopeless shame.</p> + +<p>She wished—eagerly, desperately, she +wished—she need never see him again. She +thought of the man's resource of running +away—if she could just <i>go</i>, go at once, and +write to him from somewhere.</p> + +<p>Distant Bainville seemed like a haven of +safety; even the decorous, narrow, monotony +of its dim life had a new attraction. These +terrors were not in Bainville, surely. Then +the sickening thought crept in that perhaps +they were—only they did not know it. Besides, +she had no money to go with. If only +she had started that little school sooner! +Write to her father for money she would +not. No, she must bear it here.</p> + +<p>The world was discolored in the girl's +eyes. Love had become a horror and marriage +impossible. She pushed the idea from +her, impotently, as one might push at a lava +flow.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span></p> + +<p>In her wide reading she had learned in a +vague way of "evil"—a distant undescribed +evil which was in the world, and which must +be avoided. She had known that there was +such a thing as "sin," and abhorred the very +thought of it.</p> + +<p>Morton's penitential confessions had given +no details; she had pictured him only as being +"led astray," as being "fast," even perhaps +"wicked." Wickedness could be forgiven; +and she had forgiven him, royally. +But wickedness was one thing, disease was +another. Forgiveness was no cure.</p> + +<p>The burden of new knowledge so distressed +her that she avoided the family entirely +that evening, avoided Susie, went to +her grandmother and asked if she might +come and sleep on the lounge in her room.</p> + +<p>"Surely, my child, glad to have you," said +Mrs. Pettigrew affectionately. "Better try +my bed—there's room a-plenty."</p> + +<p>The girl lay long with those old arms +about her, crying quietly. Her grandmother +asked no questions, only patted her softly +from time to time, and said, "There! There!" +in a pleasantly soothing manner. After<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> +some time she remarked, "If you want to +say things, my dear, say 'em—anything you +please."</p> + +<p>In the still darkness they talked long and +intimately; and the wise old head straightened +things out somewhat for the younger +one.</p> + +<p>"Doctors don't realize how people feel +about these matters," said Mrs. Pettigrew. +"They are so used to all kinds of ghastly +things they forget that other folks can't +stand 'em. She was too hard on you, +dearie."</p> + +<p>But Vivian defended the doctor. "Oh, +no, Grandma. She did it beautifully. And +it hurt her so. She told me about her own—disappointment."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember her as a girl, you see. +A fine sweet girl she was too. It was an +awful blow—and she took it hard. It has +made her bitter, I think, perhaps; that and +the number of similar cases she had to cope +with."</p> + +<p>"But, Grandma—is it—<i>can</i> it be as bad +as she said? Seventy-five per cent! Three-quarters +of—of everybody!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not everybody dear, thank goodness. +Our girls are mostly clean, and they save +the race, I guess."</p> + +<p>"I don't even want to <i>see</i> a man again!" +said the girl with low intensity.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't think you would, at first. +But, dear child—just brace yourself and +look it fair in the face! The world's no +worse than it was yesterday—just because +you know more about it!"</p> + +<p>"No," Vivian admitted, "But it's like +uncovering a charnel house!" she shuddered.</p> + +<p>"Never saw a charnel house myself," said +the old lady, "even with the lid on. But +now see here child; you mustn't feel as if +all men were Unspeakable Villains. They +are just ignorant boys—and nobody ever +tells 'em the truth. Nobody used to know +it, for that matter. All this about gonorrhea +is quite newly discovered—it has set the +doctors all by the ears. Having women doctors +has made a difference too—lots of difference."</p> + +<p>"Besides," she went on after a pause, +"things are changing very fast now, since +the general airing began. Dr. Prince Mor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span>row +in New York, with that society of his—(I +can never remember the name—makes +me think of tooth brushes) has done much; +and the popular magazines have taken it +up. You must have seen some of those +articles, Vivian."</p> + +<p>"I have," the girl said, "but I couldn't +bear to read them—ever."</p> + +<p>"That's it!" responded her grandmother, +tartly; "we bring up girls to think it is not +proper to know anything about the worst +danger before them. Proper!—Why my +dear child, the young girls are precisely the +ones <i>to</i> know! it's no use to tell a woman +who has buried all her children—or wishes +she had!—that it was all owing to her +ignorance, and her husband's. You have +to know beforehand if it's to do you any +good."</p> + +<p>After awhile she continued: "Women are +waking up to this all over the country, now. +Nice women, old and young. The women's +clubs and congresses are taking it up, as +they should. Some states have passed laws +requiring a medical certificate—a clean bill +of health—to go with a license to marry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> +You can see that's reasonable! A man has +to be examined to enter the army or navy, +even to get his life insured; Marriage and +Parentage are more important than those +things! And we are beginning to teach +children and young people what they ought +to know. There's hope for us!"</p> + +<p>"But Grandma—it's so awful—about the +children."</p> + +<p>"Yes dear, yes. It's pretty awful. But +don't feel as if we were all on the brink of +perdition. Remember that we've got a +whole quarter of the men to bank on. +That's a good many, in this country. We're +not so bad as Europe—not yet—in this line. +Then just think of this, child. We have +lived, and done splendid things all these +years, even with this load of disease on us. +Think what we can do when we're rid of it! +And that's in the hands of woman, my dear—as +soon as we know enough. Don't be +afraid of knowledge. When we all know +about this we can stop it! Think of that. +We can religiously rid the world of all these—'undesirable +citizens.'"</p> + +<p>"How, Grandma?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span></p> + +<p>"Easy enough, my dear. By not marrying +them."</p> + +<p>There was a lasting silence.</p> + +<p>Grandma finally went to sleep, making +a little soft whistling sound through her +parted lips; but Vivian lay awake for long +slow hours.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>It was one thing to make up her own +mind, though not an easy one, by any +means; it was quite another to tell Morton.</p> + +<p>He gave her no good opportunity. He +did not say again, "Will you marry me?" +So that she could say, "No," and be done +with it. He did not even say, "When will +you marry me?" to which she could answer +"Never!" He merely took it for granted +that she was going to, and continued to +monopolize her as far as possible, with all +pleasant and comfortable attentions.</p> + +<p>She forced the situation even more sharply +than she wished, by turning from him +with a shiver when he met her on the stairs +one night and leaned forward as if to kiss +her.</p> + +<p>He stopped short.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is the matter, Vivian—are you +ill?"</p> + +<p>"No—" She could say nothing further, +but tried to pass him.</p> + +<p>"Look here—there <i>is</i> something. You've +been—different—for several days. Have I +done anything you don't like?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Morton!" His question was so exactly +to the point; and so exquisitely inadequate! +He had indeed.</p> + +<p>"I care too much for you to let anything +stand between us now," he went on.</p> + +<p>"Come, there's no one in the upper hall—come +and 'tell me the worst.'"</p> + +<p>"As well now as ever." thought the girl. +Yet when they sat on the long window seat, +and he turned his handsome face toward her, +with that newer, better look on it, she could +not believe that this awful thing was true.</p> + +<p>"Now then—What is wrong between +us?" he said.</p> + +<p>She answered only, "I will tell you the +worst, Morton. I cannot marry you—ever."</p> + +<p>He whitened to the lips, but asked quietly, +"Why?"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span></p> + +<p>"Because you have—Oh, I <i>cannot</i> tell +you!"</p> + +<p>"I have a right to know, Vivian. You +have made a man of me. I love you with +my whole heart. What have I done—that +I have not told you?"</p> + +<p>Then she recalled his contrite confessions; +and contrasted what he had told her with +what he had not; with the unspeakable fate +to which he would have consigned her—and +those to come; and a sort of holy rage rose +within her.</p> + +<p>"You never told me of the state of your +health, Morton."</p> + +<p>It was done. She looked to see him fall +at her feet in utter abashment, but he did +nothing of the kind. What he did do astonished +her beyond measure. He rose to +his feet, with clenched fists.</p> + +<p>"Has that damned doctor been giving +me away?" he demanded. "Because if he +has I'll kill him!"</p> + +<p>"He has not," said Vivian. "Not by the +faintest hint, ever. And is <i>that</i> all you think +of?—</p> + +<p>"Good-bye."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span></p> + +<p>She rose to leave him, sick at heart.</p> + +<p>Then he seemed to realize that she was +going; that she meant it.</p> + +<p>"Surely, surely!" he cried, "you won't +throw me over now! Oh, Vivian! I told +you I had been wild—that I wasn't fit to +touch your little slippers! And I wasn't +going to ask you to marry me till I felt sure +this was all done with. All the rest of my +life was yours, darling—is yours. You have +made me over—surely you won't leave me +now!"</p> + +<p>"I must," she said.</p> + +<p>He looked at her despairingly. If he +lost her he lost not only a woman, but the +hope of a life. Things he had never +thought about before had now grown dear +to him; a home, a family, an honorable place +in the world, long years of quiet happiness.</p> + +<p>"I can't lose you!" he said. "I <i>can't</i>!"</p> + +<p>She did not answer, only sat there with a +white set face and her hands tight clenched +in her lap.</p> + +<p>"Where'd you get this idea anyhow?" he +burst out again. "I believe it's that woman +doctor! What does she know!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look here, Morton," said Vivian firmly. +"It is not a question of who told me. The +important thing is that it's—true! And I +cannot marry you."</p> + +<p>"But Vivian—" he pleaded, trying to +restrain the intensity of his feeling; "men +get over these things. They do, really. It's +not so awful as you seem to think. It's +very common. And I'm nearly well. I +was going to wait a year or two yet—to +make sure—. Vivian! I'd cut my hand off +before I'd hurt you!"</p> + +<p>There was real agony in his voice, and +her heart smote her; but there was something +besides her heart ruling the girl +now.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry—I'm very sorry," she said +dully. "But I will not marry you."</p> + +<p>"You'll throw me over—just for that! +Oh, Vivian don't—you can't. I'm no worse +than other men. It seems so terrible to you +just because you're so pure and white. It's +only what they call—wild oats, you know. +Most men do it."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"And will you punish me—so cruelly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span>—for +that? I can't live without you, Vivian—I +won't!"</p> + +<p>"It is not a question of punishing you, +Morton," she said gently. "Nor myself. +It is not the sin I am considering. It is +the consequences!"</p> + +<p>He felt a something high and implacable +in the gentle girl; something he had never +found in her before. He looked at her with +despairing eyes. Her white grace, her +stately little ways, her delicate beauty, had +never seemed so desirable.</p> + +<p>"Good God, Vivian. You can't mean it. +Give me time. Wait for me. I'll be +straight all the rest of my life—I mean +it. I'll be true to you, absolutely. I'll +do anything you say—only don't give +me up!"</p> + +<p>She felt old, hundreds of years old, and +as remote as far mountains.</p> + +<p>"It isn't anything you can do—in the rest +of your life, my poor boy! It is what you +have done—in the first of it!... Oh, +Morton! It isn't right to let us grow up +without knowing! You never would have +done it <i>if</i> you'd known—would you? Can't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> +you—can't we—do something to—stop this +awfulness?"</p> + +<p>Her tender heart suffered in the pain she +was inflicting, suffered too in her own loss; +for as she faced the thought of final separation +she found that her grief ran back into +the far-off years of childhood. But she had +made up her mind with a finality only the +more absolute because it hurt her. Even +what he said of possible recovery did not +move her—the very thought of marriage had +become impossible.</p> + +<p>"I shall never marry," she added, with a +shiver; thinking that he might derive some +comfort from the thought; but he replied +with a bitter derisive little laugh. He did +not rise to her appeal to "help the others." +So far in life the happiness of Morton Elder +had been his one engrossing care; and now +the unhappiness of Morton Elder assumed +even larger proportions.</p> + +<p>That bright and hallowed future to which +he had been looking forward so earnestly +had been suddenly withdrawn from him; his +good resolutions, his "living straight" for +the present, were wasted.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span></p> + +<p>"You women that are so superior," he +said, "that'll turn a man down for things +that are over and done with—that he's sorry +for and ashamed of—do you know what you +drive a man to! What do you think's going +to become of me if you throw me over!"</p> + +<p>He reached out his hands to her in real +agony. "Vivian! I love you! I can't live +without you! I can't be good without you! +And you love me a little—don't you?"</p> + +<p>She did. She could not deny it. She +loved to shut her eyes to the future, to forgive +the past, to come to those outstretched +arms and bury everything beneath that one +overwhelming phrase—"I love you!"</p> + +<p>But she heard again Dr. Bellair's clear +low accusing voice—"Will you tell that to +your crippled children?"</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet. "I cannot help it, +Morton. I am sorry—you will not believe +how sorry I am! But I will never marry +you."</p> + +<p>A look of swift despair swept over his +face. It seemed to darken visibly as she +watched. An expression of bitter hatred +came upon him; of utter recklessness.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span></p> + +<p>All that the last few months had seemed +to bring of higher better feeling fell from +him; and even as she pitied him she thought +with a flicker of fear of how this might have +happened—after marriage.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well!" he said, rising to his feet. "I +wish you could have made up your mind +sooner, that's all. I'll take myself off now."</p> + +<p>She reached out her hands to him.</p> + +<p>"Morton! Please!—don't go away feeling +so hardly! I am—fond of you—I always +was.—Won't you let me help you—to +bear it—! Can't we be—friends?"</p> + +<p>Again he laughed that bitter little laugh. +"No, Miss Lane," he said. "We distinctly +cannot. This is good-bye—You won't +change your mind—again?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head in silence, and he left +her.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>THEREAFTER.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:33%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">If I do right, though heavens fall,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And end all light and laughter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though black the night and ages long,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Bitter the cold—the tempest strong—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I do right, and brave it all—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The sun shall rise thereafter!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>The inaccessibility of Dr. Hale gave +him, in the eye of Mrs. St. Cloud, +all the attractiveness of an unscaled +peak to the true mountain climber. Here +was a man, an unattached man, living next +door to her, whom she had not even seen. +Her pursuance of what Mr. Skee announced +to his friends to be "one of these Platonic +Friendships," did not falter; neither did +her interest in other relations less philosophic. +Mr. Dykeman's precipitate descent +from the class of eligibles was more of a disappointment +to her than she would admit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> +even to herself; his firm, kind friendliness +had given a sense of comfort, of achieved +content that her restless spirit missed.</p> + +<p>But Dr. Hale, if he had been before inaccessible, +had now become so heavily fortified, +so empanoplied in armor offensive and defensive, +that even Mrs. Pettigrew found it +difficult to obtain speech with him.</p> + +<p>That his best friend, so long supporting +him in cheerful bachelorhood, should have +thus late laid down his arms, was bitterly +resented. That Mr. Skee, free lance of +years standing, and risen victor from several +"stricken fields," should show signs of capitulation, +annoyed him further. Whether +these feelings derived their intensity from +another, which he entirely refused to acknowledge, +is matter for the psychologist, +and Dr. Hale avoided all psychologic self-examination.</p> + +<p>With the boys he was always a hero. They +admired his quiet strength and the unbroken +good nature that was always presented to +those about him, whatever his inner feelings.</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters burst forth to the others one +day, in tones of impassioned admiration.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span></p> + +<p>"By George, fellows," he said, "you know +how nice Doc was last night?"</p> + +<p>"Never saw him when he wasn't," said +Archie.</p> + +<p>"Don't interrupt Mr. Peters," drawled +Percy. "He's on the brink of a scientific +discovery. Strange how these secrets of +nature can lie unrevealed about us so +long—and then suddenly burst upon our +ken!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Peters grinned affably. "That's all +right, but I maintain my assertion; whatever +the general attraction of our noble host, +you'll admit that on the special occasion of +yesterday evening, which we celebrated to a +late hour by innocent games of cards—he +was—as usual—the soul of—of——"</p> + +<p>"Affability?" suggested Percy.</p> + +<p>"Precisely!" Peters admitted. "If there +is a well-chosen word which perfectly describes +the manner of Dr. Richard Hale—it +is affable! Thank you, sir, thank you. Well, +what I wish to announce, so that you can all +of you get down on your knees at once and +worship, is that all last evening he—had +a toothache—a bad toothache!"</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span></p> + +<p>"My word!" said Archie, and remained +silent.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now," Percy protested, "that's +against nature. Have a toothache and not +<i>mention</i> it? Not even mention it—without +exaggeration! Why Archimedes couldn't +do that! Or—Sandalphon—or any of them!"</p> + +<p>"How'd you learn the facts, my son? Tell +us that."</p> + +<p>"Heard him on the 'phone making an appointment. +'Yes;' 'since noon yesterday,' +'yes, pretty severe.' '11:30? You can't make +it earlier? All right.' I'm just mentioning +it to convince you fellows that you don't appreciate +your opportunities. There was +some exceptional Female once—they said +'to know her was a liberal education.' What +would you call it to live with Dr. Hale?"</p> + +<p>And they called it every fine thing they +could think of; for these boys knew better +than anyone else, the effect of that association.</p> + +<p>His patients knew him as wise, gentle, efficient, +bringing a sense of hope and assurance +by the mere touch of that strong hand; +his professional associates in the town knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> +him as a good practitioner and friend, and +wider medical circles, readers of his articles +in the professional press had an even higher +opinion of his powers.</p> + +<p>Yet none of these knew Richard Hale. +None saw him sitting late in his office, the +pages of his book unturned, his eyes on the +red spaces of the fire. No one was with him +on those night tramps that left but an hour +or two of sleep to the long night, and made +that sleep irresistible from self-enforced fatigue. +He had left the associations of his +youth and deliberately selected this far-off +mountain town to build the life he chose; and +if he found it unsatisfying no one was the +wiser.</p> + +<p>His successive relays of boys, young fellows +fresh from the East, coming from year +to year and going from year to year as business +called them, could and did give good +testimony as to the home side of his character, +however. It was not in nature that +they should speculate about him. As they +fell in love and out again with the facility of +so many Romeos, they discoursed among +themselves as to his misogyny.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span></p> + +<p>"He certainly has a grouch on women," +they would admit. "That's the one thing +you can't talk to him about—shuts up like a +clam. Of course, he'll let you talk about +your own feelings and experiences, but you +might as well talk to the side of a hill. I +wonder what did happen to him?"</p> + +<p>They made no inquiry, however. It was +reported that a minister's wife, a person of +determined character, had had the courage +of her inquisitiveness, and asked him once, +"Why is it that you have never married, Dr. +Hale?" And that he had replied, "It is +owing to my dislike of the meddlesomeness +of women." He lived his own life, unquestioned, +now more markedly withdrawn than +ever, coming no more to The Cottonwoods.</p> + +<p>Even when Morton Elder left, suddenly +and without warning, to the great grief of +his aunt and astonishment of his sister, their +medical neighbor still "sulked in his tent"—or +at least in his office.</p> + +<p>Morton's departure had but one explanation; +it must be that Vivian had refused him, +and she did not deny it.</p> + +<p>"But why, Vivian, why? He has im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span>proved +so—it was just getting lovely to see +how nice he was getting. And we all thought +you were so happy." Thus the perplexed +Susie. And Vivian found herself utterly +unable to explain to that happy little heart, +on the brink of marriage, why she had refused +her brother.</p> + +<p>Miss Orella was even harder to satisfy. +"It's not as if you were a foolish changeable +young girl, my dear. And you've known +Morton all your life—he was no stranger to +you. It breaks my heart, Vivian. Can't +you reconsider?"</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I'm awfully sorry, Miss Orella. Please +believe that I did it for the best—and that it +was very hard for me, too."</p> + +<p>"But, Vivian! What can be the reason? +I don't think you understand what a beautiful +influence you have on the boy. He has +improved so, since he has been here. And he +was going to get a position here in town—he +told me so himself—and really settle down. +And now he's <i>gone</i>. Just off and away, as +he used to be—and I never shall feel easy +about him again."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Orella was frankly crying; and it +wrung the girl's heart to know the pain she +was causing; not only to Morton, and to +herself, but to these others.</p> + +<p>Susie criticised her with frankness.</p> + +<p>"I know you think you are right, Vivian, +you always do—you and that conscience of +yours. But I really think you had gone too +far to draw back, Jimmie saw him that night +he went away—and he said he looked awfully. +And he really was changed so—beginning +to be so thoroughly nice. Whatever +was the matter? I think you ought to tell +me, Vivian, I'm his sister, and—being engaged +and all—perhaps I could straighten +it out."</p> + +<p>And she was as nearly angry as her sunny +nature allowed, when her friend refused to +give any reason, beyond that she thought it +right.</p> + +<p>Her aunt did not criticise, but pleaded. +"It's not too late, I'm sure, Vivian. A word +from you would bring him back in a moment. +Do speak it, Vivian—do! Put your pride +in your pocket, child, and don't lose a lifetime's +happiness for some foolish quarrel."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span></p> + +<p>Miss Orella, like Susie, was at present +sure that marriage must mean a lifetime's +happiness. And Vivian looked miserably +from one to the other of these loving women-folk, +and could not defend herself with the +truth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew took up the cudgels for +her. She was not going to have her favorite +grandchild thus condemned and keep silence. +"Anybody'd think Vivian had married the +man and then run away with another one!" +she said tartly. "Pity if a girl can't change +her mind before marrying—she's held down +pretty close afterward. An engagement isn't +a wedding, Orella Elder."</p> + +<p>"But you don't consider the poor boy's +feelings in the least, Mrs. Pettigrew."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," snapped the old lady. "I +consider the poor girl's. I'm willing to bet +as much as you will that his feelings aren't +any worse than hers. If <i>he'd</i> changed his +mind and run off and left <i>her</i>, I warrant you +two wouldn't have been so hard on him."</p> + +<p>Evading this issue, Miss Orella wiped her +eyes, and said: "Heaven knows where he is +now. And I'm afraid he won't write—he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span> +never did write much, and now he's just +heartbroken. I don't know as I'd have seen +him at all if I hadn't been awake and heard +him rushing downstairs. You've no idea +how he suffers."</p> + +<p>"I don't see as the girl's to blame that he +hadn't decency enough to say good-bye to +the aunt that's been a mother to him; or to +write to her, as he ought to. A person don't +need to forget <i>all</i> their duty because they've +got the mitten."</p> + +<p>Vivian shrank away from them all. Her +heart ached intolerably. She had not realized +how large a part in her life this constant +admiration and attention had become. She +missed the outward agreeableness, and the +soft tide of affection, which had risen more +and more warmly about her. From her +earliest memories she had wished for affection—affection +deep and continuous, tender +and with full expression. She had been too +reserved to show her feeling, too proud by +far to express it, but under that delicate reticence +of hers lay always that deep longing +to love and to be loved wholly.</p> + +<p>Susie had been a comfort always, in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> +kittenish affection and caressing ways, but +Susie was doubly lost, both in her new absorption +and now in this estrangement.</p> + +<p>Then, to bring pain to Miss Orella, who +had been so kind and sweet to her from earliest +childhood, to hurt her so deeply, now, +to mingle in her cup of happiness this grief +and anxiety, made the girl suffer keenly. +Jimmie, of course, was able to comfort Susie. +He told her it was no killing matter anyhow, +and that Morton would inevitably console +himself elsewhere. "He'll never wear the +willow for any girl, my dear. Don't you +worry about him."</p> + +<p>Also, Mr. Dykeman comforted Miss Orella, +not only with wise words, but with his +tender sympathy and hopefulness. But no +one could comfort Vivian.</p> + +<p>Even Dr. Bellair seemed to her present +sensitiveness an alien, cruel power. She had +come like the angel with the flaming sword +to stand between her and what, now that it +was gone, began to look like Paradise.</p> + +<p>She quite forgot that she had always +shrunk from Morton when he made love too +warmly, that she had been far from wholly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> +pleased with him when he made his appearance +there, that their engagement, so far as +they had one, was tentative—"sometime, +when I am good enough" not having arrived. +The unreasoning voice of the woman's nature +within her had answered, though but +partially, to the deep call of the man's; and +now she missed more than she would admit +to herself the tenderness that was gone.</p> + +<p>She had her intervals of sharp withdrawal +from the memory of that tenderness, of deep +thanksgiving for her escape; but fear of a +danger only prophesied, does not obliterate +memory of joys experienced.</p> + +<p>Her grandmother watched her carefully, +saying little. She forced no confidence, +made no comment, was not obtrusively affectionate, +but formed a definite decision +and conveyed it clearly to Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Jane Bellair, you've upset +Vivian's dish, and quite right; it's a good +thing you did, and I don't know as you could +have done it easier."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't have done it harder—that I +know of," the doctor answered. "I'd sooner +operate on a baby—without an anæsthetic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span>—than +tell a thing like that—to a girl like that. +But it had to be done; and nobody else +would."</p> + +<p>"You did perfectly right. I'm thankful +enough, I promise you; if you hadn't I +should have had to—and goodness knows +what a mess I'd have made. But look +here, the girl's going all to pieces. Now +we've got to do something for her, and do +it quick."</p> + +<p>"I know that well enough," answered her +friend, "and I set about it even before I +made the incision. You've seen that little +building going up on the corner of High +and Stone Streets?"</p> + +<p>"That pretty little thing with the grass +and flowers round it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—they got the flowers growing while +the decorators finished inside. It's a first-rate +little kindergarten. I've got a list of +scholars all arranged for, and am going to +pop the girl into it so fast she can't refuse. +Not that I think she will."</p> + +<p>"Who did it?" demanded Mrs. Pettigrew. +"That man Skee?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Skee has had something to do with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> +it," replied the doctor, guardedly; "but he +doesn't want his name mentioned."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>Vivian made no objection, though she was +too listless to take up work with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>As a prescription nothing could have +worked better. Enough small pupils were +collected to pay the rent of the pretty place, +and leave a modest income for her.</p> + +<p>Dr. Bellair gathered together the mothers +and aunts for a series of afternoon talks in +the convenient building, Vivian assisting, +and roused much interest among them. The +loving touch of little hands, the pleasure of +seeing the gay contentment of her well-ordered +charges, began to lighten the girl's +heart at last. They grew so fond of her that +the mothers were jealous, but she played +with and taught them so wisely, and the +youngsters were so much improved by it, +that no parent withdrew her darling.</p> + +<p>Further than that, the new interest, the +necessary reading and study, above all the +study hours of occupation acted most beneficently, +slowly, but surely steadying the +nerves and comforting the heart.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span></p> + +<p>There is a telling Oriental phrase describing +sorrow: "And the whole world became +strait unto him." The sense of final closing +down of life, of a dull, long, narrow path +between her and the grave, which had so oppressed +the girl's spirit, now changed rapidly. +Here was room to love at least, and she +radiated a happy and unselfish affection +among the little ones. Here was love in return, +very sweet and honest, if shallow. Here +was work; something to do, something to +think about; both in her hours with the children +and those spent in study. Her work +took her out of the house, too; away from +Susie and her aunt, with their happy chatter +and endless white needlework, and the gleeful +examination of presents.</p> + +<p>Never before had she known the blessed +relief of another place to go to.</p> + +<p>When she left The Cottonwoods, as early +as possible, and placed her key in the door of +the little gray house sitting among the roses, +she felt a distinct lightening of the heart. +This was hers. Not her father's, not Miss +Elder's; not anybody's but hers—as long as +she could earn the rent.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span></p> + +<p>She paid her board, too, in spite of deep +and pained remonstrance, forcing Miss Elder +to accept it by the ultimatum "would you +rather make me go away and board somewhere +else?" She could not accept favors +where she was condemned.</p> + +<p>This, too, gave her a feeling hitherto inexperienced, +deep and inspiring. She began +to hold her graceful head insensibly higher, +to walk with a freer step. Life was not +ended after all, though Love had gone. She +might not be happy, but she might be useful +and independent.</p> + +<p>Then Dr. Bellair, who had by quiet friendliness +and wise waiting, regained much of +her former place with the girl, asked her to +undertake, as a special favor to her, the care +of a class of rather delicate children and +young girls, in physical culture.</p> + +<p>"Of course, Johanna Johnson is perfectly +reliable and an excellent teacher. I don't +know a better; but their mothers will feel +easier if there's someone they know on the +spot. You keep order and see that they +don't overdo. You'll have to go through +their little exercises with them, you see. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> +can't pay you anything for it; but it's only +part of two afternoons in the week—and it +won't hurt you at any rate."</p> + +<p>Vivian was more than glad to do something +for the doctor, as well as to extend her +friendship among older children; also glad +of anything to further fill her time. To be +alone and idle was to think and suffer.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew came in with Dr. Bellair +one afternoon to watch the exercises.</p> + +<p>"I don't see but what Vivian does the +tricks as well as any of them," said her +grandmother.</p> + +<p>"She does beautifully," the doctor answered. +"And her influence with the children +is just what they needed. You see +there's no romping and foolishness, and she +sets the pace—starts them off when they're +shy. I'm extremely obliged to her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew watched Vivian's rhythmic +movements, her erect carriage and +swinging step, her warm color and sparkling +eyes, as she led the line of happy youngsters +and then turned upon the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" she said.</p> + +<p>At Susie's wedding, her childhood's friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> +was so far forgiven as to be chief bridesmaid, +but seeing the happiness before her opened +again the gates of her own pain.</p> + +<p>When it was all over, and the glad young +things were safely despatched upon their +ribboned way, when all the guests had gone, +when Mrs. St. Cloud felt the need of air and +with the ever-gallant Mr. Skee set forth in +search of it, when Dr. Bellair had returned +to her patients, and Miss Orella to her own +parlor, and was there consoled by Mr. Dykeman +for the loss of her niece, then Vivian +went to her room—all hers now, looking +strangely large and empty—and set down +among the drifts of white tissue paper and +scattered pins—alone.</p> + +<p>She sank down on the bed, weary and sad +at heart, for an hour of full surrender long +refused; meaning for once to let her grief +have its full way with her. But, just as on +the night of her hurried engagement she had +been unable to taste to the full the happiness +expected, so now, surrender as she might, +she could not feel the intensity of expected +pain.</p> + +<p>She was lonely, unquestionably. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> +faced a lonely life. Six long, heavy months +had passed since she had made her decision.</p> + +<p>"I am nearly twenty-seven now," she +thought, resignedly. "I shall never marry," +and she felt a little shiver of the horror of +last year.</p> + +<p>But, having got this far in melancholy contemplation, +her mind refused to dwell upon +it, but filled in spite of her with visions of +merry little ones, prancing in wavering circles, +and singing their more wavering songs. +She was lonely and a single woman—but she +had something to do; and far more power to +do it, more interest, enthusiasm, and skill, +than at the season's beginning.</p> + +<p>She thought of Morton—of what little +they had heard since his hurried departure. +He had gone farther West; they had heard +of him in San Francisco, they had heard of +him, after some months, in the Klondike region, +then they had heard no more. He did +not write. It seemed hard to so deeply hurt +his aunt for what was no fault of hers; but +Morton had never considered her feelings +very deeply, his bitter anger, his hopeless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span>ness, +his desperate disappointment, blinding +him to any pain but his own.</p> + +<p>But her thoughts of him failed to rouse +any keen distinctive sorrow. They rambled +backward and forward, from the boy who +had been such a trouble to his aunt, such a +continuous disappointment and mortification; +to the man whose wooing, looked back +upon at this distance, seemed far less attractive +to the memory than it had been at the +time. Even his honest attempt at improvement +gave her but a feeling of pity, and +though pity is akin to love it is not always a +near relation.</p> + +<p>From her unresisting descent into wells of +pain, which proved unexpectedly shallow, +the girl arose presently and quietly set to +work arranging the room in its new capacity +as hers only.</p> + +<p>From black and bitter agony to the gray +tastelessness of her present life was not an +exciting change, but Vivian had more power +in quiet endurance than in immediate resistance, +and set herself now in earnest to fulfill +the tasks before her.</p> + +<p>This was March. She was planning an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> +extension of her classes, the employment of +an assistant. Her work was appreciated, her +school increased. Patiently and steadily she +faced her task, and found a growing comfort +in it. When summer came, Dr. Bellair again +begged her to help out in the plan of a girls' +camp she was developing.</p> + +<p>This was new work for Vivian, but her season +in Mrs. Johnson's gymnastic class had +given her a fresh interest in her own body +and the use of it. That stalwart instructress, +a large-boned, calm-eyed Swedish woman, +was to be the manager of the camp, and +Vivian this time, with a small salary attached, +was to act as assistant.</p> + +<p>"It's a wonderful thing the way people +take to these camps," said Dr. Bellair. +"They are springing up everywhere. Magnificent +for children and young people."</p> + +<p>"It is a wonderful thing to me," observed +Mrs. Pettigrew. "You go to a wild place +that costs no rent; you run a summer hotel +without any accommodations; you get a lot +of parents to pay handsomely for letting +their children be uncomfortable—and there +you are."</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span></p> + +<p>"They are not uncomfortable!" protested +her friend, a little ruffled. "They like it. +And besides liking it, it's good for them. It's +precisely the roughing it that does them +good."</p> + +<p>It did do them good; the group of young +women and girls who went to the high-lying +mountain lake where Dr. Bellair had bought +a piece of wild, rough country for her own +future use, and none of them profited by it +more than Vivian.</p> + +<p>She had been, from time to time, to decorous +"shore places," where one could do nothing +but swim and lie on the sand; or to the +"mountains," those trim, green, modest, +pretty-picture mountains, of which New +England is so proud; but she had never before +been in an untouched wilderness.</p> + +<p>Often in the earliest dawn she would rise +from the springy, odorous bed of balsam +boughs and slip out alone for her morning +swim. A run through the pines to a little +rocky cape, with a small cave she knew, and +to glide, naked, into that glass-smooth water, +warmer than the sunless air, and swim out +softly, silently, making hardly a ripple, turn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> +on her back and lie there—alone with the +sky—this brought peace to her heart. She +felt so free from every tie to earth, so like a +soul in space, floating there with the clean, +dark water beneath her, and the clear, bright +heaven above her; and when the pale glow in +the east brightened to saffron, warmed to +rose, burst into a level blaze of gold, the lake +laughed in the light, and Vivian laughed, too, +in pure joy of being alive and out in all that +glittering beauty.</p> + +<p>She tramped the hills with the girls; +picked heaping pails of wild berries, learned +to cook in primitive fashion, slept as she had +never slept in her life, from dark to dawn, +grew brown and hungry and cheerful.</p> + +<p>After all, twenty-seven was not an old age.</p> + +<p>She came back at the summer-end, and Dr. +Bellair clapped her warmly on the shoulder, +declaring, "I'm proud of you, Vivian! Simply +proud of you!"</p> + +<p>Her grandmother, after a judicious embrace, +held her at arm's length and examined +her critically.</p> + +<p>"I don't see but what you've stood it first +rate," she admitted. "And if you <i>like</i> that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span> +color—why, you certainly are looking well."</p> + +<p>She was well, and began her second year +of teaching with a serene spirit.</p> + +<p>In all this time of slow rebuilding Vivian +would not have been left comfortless if masculine +admiration could have pleased her. +The young men at The Cottonwoods, now +undistracted by Susie's gay presence, concentrated +much devotion upon Vivian, as did +also the youths across the way. She turned +from them all, gently, but with absolute decision.</p> + +<p>Among her most faithful devotees was +young Percy Watson, who loved her almost +as much as he loved Dr. Hale, and could +never understand, in his guileless, boyish +heart, why neither of them would talk about +the other.</p> + +<p>They did not forbid his talking, however, +and the earnest youth, sitting in the quiet +parlor at The Cottonwoods, would free his +heart to Vivian about how the doctor worked +too hard—sat up all hours to study—didn't +give himself any rest—nor any fun.</p> + +<p>"He'll break down some time—I tell him +so. It's not natural for any man to work that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span> +way, and I don't see any real need of it. He +says he's working on a book—some big medical +book, I suppose; but what's the hurry? I +wish you'd have him over here oftener, and +make him amuse himself a little, Miss Vivian."</p> + +<p>"Dr. Hale is quite welcome to come at any +time—he knows that," said she.</p> + +<p>Again the candid Percy, sitting on the doctor's +shadowy piazza, poured out his devoted +admiration for her to his silent host.</p> + +<p>"She's the finest woman I ever knew!" the +boy would say. "She's so beautiful and so +clever, and so pleasant to everybody. She's +<i>square</i>—like a man. And she's kind—like a +woman, only kinder; a sort of motherliness +about her. I don't see how she ever lived so +long without being married. I'd marry her +in a minute if I was good enough—and if +she'd have me."</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale tousled the ears of Balzac, the +big, brown dog whose head was so often on +his knee, and said nothing. He had not seen +the girl since that night by the arbor.</p> + +<p>Later in the season he learned, perforce, +to know her better, and to admire her more.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span></p> + +<p>Susie's baby came with the new year, and +brought danger and anxiety. They hardly +hoped to save the life of the child. The little +mother was long unable to leave her bed. +Since her aunt was not there, but gone, as +Mrs. Dykeman, on an extended tour—"part +business and part honeymoon," her husband +told her—and since Mrs. Pettigrew now +ruled alone at The Cottonwoods, with every +evidence of ability and enjoyment, Vivian +promptly installed herself in the Saunders +home, as general housekeeper and nurse.</p> + +<p>She was glad then of her strength, and +used it royally, comforting the wretched Jim, +keeping up Susie's spirits, and mothering the +frail tiny baby with exquisite devotion.</p> + +<p>Day after day the doctor saw her, sweet +and strong and patient, leaving her school to +the assistant, regardless of losses, showing +the virtues he admired most in women.</p> + +<p>He made his calls as short as possible; but +even so, Vivian could not but note how his +sternness gave way to brusque good cheer for +the sick mother, and to a lovely gentleness +with the child.</p> + +<p>When that siege was over and the girl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span> +returned to her own work, she carried pleasant +pictures in her mind, and began to wonder, +as had so many others, why this man, +who seemed so fitted to enjoy a family, had +none.</p> + +<p>She missed his daily call, and wondered +further why he avoided them more assiduously +than at first.</p><hr class="chap" /><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>ACHIEVEMENTS.</h3> + +<div class="poem" style="margin-left:32%;"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There are some folk born to beauty,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And some to plenteous gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some who are proud of being young,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some proud of being old.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Some who are glad of happy love,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Enduring, deep and true,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And some who thoroughly enjoy<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The little things they do.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>Upon all this Grandma Pettigrew +cast an observant eye, and meditated +sagely thereupon. Coming to +a decision, she first took a course of reading +in some of Dr. Bellair's big books, and +then developed a series of perplexing symptoms, +not of a too poignant or perilous nature, +that took her to Dr. Hale's office frequently.</p> + +<p>"You haven't repudiated Dr. Bellair, have +you?" he asked her.</p> + +<p>"I have never consulted Jane Bellair as a +physician," she replied, "though I esteem her +much as a friend."</p> + +<p>The old lady's company was always wel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span>come +to him; he liked her penetrating eye, +her close-lipped, sharp remarks, and appreciated +the real kindness of her heart.</p> + +<p>If he had known how closely she was peering +into the locked recesses of his own, and +how much she saw there, he would perhaps +have avoided her as he did Vivian, and if he +had known further that this ingenious old +lady, pursuing long genealogical discussions +with him, had finally unearthed a mutual +old-time friend, and had forthwith started +a correspondence with that friend, based on +this common acquaintance in Carston, he +might have left that city.</p> + +<p>The old-time friend, baited by Mrs. Pettigrew's +innocent comment on Dr. Hale's persistence +in single blessedness, poured forth +what she knew of the cause with no more +embellishment than time is sure to give.</p> + +<p>"I know why he won't marry," wrote she. +"He had reason good to begin with, but I +never dreamed he'd be obstinate enough to +keep it up sixteen years. When he was a +boy in college here I knew him well—he was +a splendid fellow, one of the very finest. But +he fell desperately in love with that beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> +Mrs. James—don't you remember about +her? She married a St. Cloud later, and he +left her, I think. She was as lovely as a +cameo—and as hard and flat. That woman +was the saintliest thing that ever breathed. +She wouldn't live with her husband because +he had done something wrong; she wouldn't +get a divorce, nor let him, because that was +wicked—and she always had a string of boys +round her, and talked about the moral influence +she had on them.</p> + +<p>"Young Hale worshipped her—simply +worshipped her—and she let him. She let +them all. She had that much that was god-like +about her—she loved incense. You need +not ask for particulars. She was far too +'particular' for that. But one light-headed +chap went and drowned himself—that was +all hushed up, of course, but some of us felt +pretty sure why. He was a half-brother to +Dick Hale, and Dick was awfully fond of +him. Then he turned hard and hateful all +at once—used to talk horrid about women. +He kept straight enough—that's easy for a +mysogynist, and studying medicine didn't +help him any—doctors and ministers know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> +too much about women. So there you are. +But I'm astonished to hear he's never gotten +over it; he always was obstinate—it's his +only fault. They say he swore never to +marry—if he did, that accounts. Do give +my regards if you see him again."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew considered long and deeply +over this information, as she slowly produced +a jersey striped with Roman vividness. +It was noticeable in this new life in +Carston that Mrs. Pettigrew's knitted jackets +had grown steadily brighter in hue from +month to month. Whereas, in Bainville, +purple and brown were the high lights, and +black, slate and navy blue the main colors; +now her worsteds were as a painter's palette, +and the result not only cheered, but bade +fair to inebriate.</p> + +<p>"A pig-headed man," she said to herself, +as her needle prodded steadily in and out; +"a pig-headed man, with a pig-headedness of +sixteen years' standing. His hair must 'a +turned gray from the strain of it. And +there's Vivian, biddin' fair to be an old maid +after all. What on <i>earth</i>!" She appeared +to have forgotten that marriages are made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span> +in heaven, or to disregard that saying. "The +Lord helps those that help themselves," was +one of her favorite mottoes. "And much +more those that help other people!" she used +to add.</p> + +<p>Flitting in and out of Dr. Hale's at all +hours, she noted that he had a fondness for +music, with a phenomenal incapacity to produce +any. He encouraged his boys to play +on any and every instrument the town afforded, +and to sing, whether they could or +not; and seemed never to weary of their attempts, +though far from satisfied with the +product.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew.</p> + +<p>Vivian could play, "Well enough to know +better," she said, and seldom touched the +piano. She had a deep, full, contralto voice, +and a fair degree of training. But she would +never make music unless she felt like it—and +in this busy life, with so many people about +her, she had always refused.</p> + +<p>Grandma meditated.</p> + +<p>She selected an evening when most of the +boarders were out at some entertainment, +and selfishly begged Vivian to stay at home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span> +with her—said she was feeling badly and +wanted company. Grandma so seldom +wanted anything that Vivian readily acquiesced; +in fact, she was quite worried about +her, and asked Dr. Bellair if she thought +anything was the matter.</p> + +<p>"She has seemed more quiet lately," said +that astute lady, "and I've noticed her going +in to Dr. Hale's during office hours. But +perhaps it's only to visit with him."</p> + +<p>"Are you in any pain, Grandma?" asked +the girl, affectionately. "You're not sick, +are you?"</p> + +<p>"O, no—I'm not sick," said the old lady, +stoutly. "I'm just—well, I felt sort of lonesome +to-night—perhaps I'm homesick."</p> + +<p>As she had never shown the faintest sign +of any feeling for their deserted home, except +caustic criticism and unfavorable comparison, +Vivian rather questioned this theory, +but she began to think there was something +in it when her grandmother, sitting by +the window in the spring twilight, began to +talk of how this time of year always made +her think of her girlhood.</p> + +<p>"Time for the March peepers at home.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> +It's early here, and no peepers anywhere +that I've heard. 'Bout this time we'd be +going to evening meeting. Seems as if I +could hear that little old organ—and the +singing!"</p> + +<p>"Hadn't I better shut that window," +asked Vivian. "Won't you get cold?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," said her grandmother, +promptly. "I'm plenty warm—I've got this +little shawl around me. And it's so soft and +pleasant out."</p> + +<p>It was soft and pleasant, a delicious May-like +night in March, full of spring scents and +hints of coming flowers. On the dark piazza +across the way she could make out a still +figure sitting alone, and the thump of Balzac's +heel as he struggled with his intimate +enemies told her who it was.</p> + +<p>"Come Ye Disconsolate," she began to +hum, most erroneously. "How does that go, +Vivian? I was always fond of it, even if I +can't sing any more'n a peacock."</p> + +<p>Vivian hummed it and gave the words in +a low voice.</p> + +<p>"That's good!" said the old lady. "I declare, +I'm kinder hungry for some of those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span> +old hymns. I wish you'd play me some of +'em, Vivian."</p> + +<p>So Vivian, glad to please her, woke the +yellow keys to softer music than they were +accustomed to, and presently her rich, low +voice, sure, easy, full of quiet feeling, flowed +out on the soft night air.</p> + +<p>Grandma was not long content with the +hymns. "I want some of those old-fashioned +songs—you used to know a lot of 'em. Can't +you do that 'Kerry Dance' of Molloy's, and +'Twickenham Ferry'—and 'Lauriger Horatius?'"</p> + +<p>Vivian gave her those, and many another, +Scotch ballads, English songs and German +Lieder—glad to please her grandmother so +easily, and quite unconscious of a dark figure +which had crossed the street and come silently +to sit on the farthest corner of their +piazza.</p> + +<p>Grandma, meanwhile, watched him, and +Vivian as well, and then, with the most unsuspected +suddenness, took to her bed. +Sciatica, she said. An intermittent pain +that came upon her so suddenly she couldn't +stand up. She felt much better lying down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> +And Dr. Hale must attend her unceasingly.</p> + +<p>This unlooked for overthrow of the phenomenally +active old lady was a great blow +to Mr. Skee; he showed real concern and +begged to be allowed to see her.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "It's +nothing catching."</p> + +<p>She lay, high-pillowed, as stiff and well +arranged as a Knight Templar on a tombstone, +arrayed for the occasion in a most +decorative little dressing sack and ribbony +night-cap.</p> + +<p>"Why, ma'am," said Mr. Skee, "it's +highly becomin' to you to be sick. It leads +me to hope it's nothin' serious."</p> + +<p>She regarded him enigmatically. "Is Dr. +Hale out there, or Vivian?" she inquired in +a low voice.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am—they ain't," he replied, after +a glance in the next room.</p> + +<p>Then he bent a penetrating eye upon her. +She met it unflinchingly, but as his smile +appeared and grew, its limitless widening +spread contagion, and her calm front was +broken.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span></p> + +<p>"Elmer Skee," said she, with sudden fury, +"you hold your tongue!"</p> + +<p>"Ma'am!" he replied, "I have said nothin'—and +I don't intend to. But if the +throne of Europe was occupied by you, +Mrs. Pettigrew, we would have a better +managed world."</p> + +<p>He proved a most agreeable and steady +visitor during this period of confinement, +and gave her full accounts of all that went +on outside, with occasional irrelevant bursts +of merriment which no rebuke from Mrs. +Pettigrew seemed wholly to check.</p> + +<p>He regaled her with accounts of his continuous +consultations with Mrs. St. Cloud, +and the wisdom and good taste with which +she invariably advised him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you admire a Platonic Friendship, +Mrs. Pettigrew?"</p> + +<p>"I do not!" said the old lady, sharply. +"And what's more I don't believe you do."</p> + +<p>"Well, ma'am," he answered, swaying +backward and forward on the hind legs of +his chair, "there are moments when I confess +it looks improbable."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew cocked her head on one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span> +side and turned a gimlet eye upon him. +"Look here, Elmer Skee," she said suddenly, +"how much money have you really +got?"</p> + +<p>He brought down his chair on four legs +and regarded her for a few moments, his +smile widening slowly. "Well, ma'am, if I +live through the necessary expenses involved +on my present undertaking, I shall have +about two thousand a year—if rents are +steady."</p> + +<p>"Which I judge you do not wish to be +known?"</p> + +<p>"If there's one thing more than another +I have always admired in you, ma'am, it is +the excellence of your judgment. In it I +have absolute confidence."</p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud had some time since summoned +Dr. Hale to her side for a severe +headache, but he had merely sent word that +his time was fully occupied, and recommended +Dr. Bellair.</p> + +<p>Now, observing Mrs. Pettigrew's tactics, +the fair invalid resolved to take the bull by +the horns and go herself to his office. She +found him easily enough. He lifted his eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> +as she entered, rose and stood with folded +arms regarding her silently. The tall, heavy +figure, the full beard, the glasses, confused +even her excellent memory. After all it was +many years since they had met, and he had +been but one of a multitude.</p> + +<p>She was all sweetness and gentle apology +for forcing herself upon him, but really +she had a little prejudice against women +doctors—his reputation was so great—he +was so temptingly near—she was in such +pain—she had such perfect confidence in +him—</p> + +<p>He sat down quietly and listened, watching +her from under his bent brows. Her +eyes were dropped, her voice very weak and +appealing; her words most perfectly chosen.</p> + +<p>"I have told you," he said at length, "that +I never treat women for their petty ailments, +if I can avoid it."</p> + +<p>She shook her head in grieved acceptance, +and lifted large eyes for one of those +penetrating sympathetic glances so frequently +successful.</p> + +<p>"How you must have suffered!" she said.</p> + +<p>"I have," he replied grimly. "I have suf<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span>fered +a long time from having my eyes +opened too suddenly to the brainless cruelty +of women, Mrs. James."</p> + +<p>She looked at him again, searchingly, +and gave a little cry. "Dick Hale!" she +said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dick Hale. Brother to poor little +Joe Medway, whose foolish young heart +you broke, among others; whose death you +are responsible for."</p> + +<p>She was looking at him with widening wet +eyes. "Ah! If you only knew how I, too, +have suffered over that!" she said. "I was +scarce more than a girl myself, then. I was +careless, not heartless. No one knew what +pain I was bearing, then. I liked the admiration +of those nice boys—I never realized +any of them would take it seriously. That +has been a heavy shadow on my life, Dr. +Hale—the fear that I was the thoughtless +cause of that terrible thing. And you have +never forgiven me. I do not wonder."</p> + +<p>He was looking at her in grim silence +again, wishing he had not spoken.</p> + +<p>"So that is why you have never been to +The Cottonwoods since I came," she pur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span>sued. +"And I am responsible for all your +loneliness. O, how dreadful!"</p> + +<p>Again he rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"No, madam, you mistake. You were responsible +for my brother's death, and for a +bitter awakening on my part, but you are +in no way responsible for my attitude since. +That is wholly due to myself. Allow me +again to recommend Dr. Jane Bellair, an +excellent physician and even more accessible."</p> + +<p>He held the door for her, and she went +out, not wholly dissatisfied with her visit. +She would have been far more displeased +could she have followed his thoughts afterward.</p> + +<p>"What a Consummate Ass I have been all +my life!" he was meditating. "Because I +met this particular type of sex parasite, to +deliberately go sour—and forego all chance +of happiness. Like a silly girl. A fool girl +who says, 'I will never marry!' just because +of some quarrel * * * But the girl never +keeps her word. A man must."</p> + +<p>The days were long to Vivian now, and +dragged a little, for all her industry.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. St. Cloud tried to revive their former +intimacy, but the girl could not renew it on +the same basis. She, too, had sympathized +with Mr. Dykeman, and now sympathized +somewhat with Mr. Skee. But since that +worthy man still volubly discoursed on Platonism, +and his fair friend openly agreed +in this view, there seemed no real ground for +distress.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew remained ailing and +rather captious. She had a telephone put +at her bedside, and ran her household affairs +efficiently, with Vivian as lieutenant, and the +ever-faithful Jeanne to uphold the honor of +the cuisine. Also she could consult her +physician, and demanded his presence at all +hours.</p> + +<p>He openly ignored Mrs. St. Cloud now, +who met his rude treatment with secret, uncomplaining +patience.</p> + +<p>Vivian spoke of this. "I do not see why +he need be so rude, Grandma. He may hate +women, but I don't see why he should treat +her so shamefully."</p> + +<p>"Well, I do," replied the invalid, "and +what's more I'm going to show you; I've<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> +always disliked that woman, and now I +know why. I'd turn her out of the house +if it wasn't for Elmer Skee. That man's as +good as gold under all his foolishness, and +if he can get any satisfaction out of that +meringue he's welcome. Dr. Hale doesn't +hate women, child, but a woman broke his +heart once—and then he made an idiot of +himself by vowing never to marry."</p> + +<p>She showed her friend's letter, and Vivian +read it with rising color. "O, Grandma! +Why that's worse than I ever thought—even +after what Dr. Bellair told us. And it was +his brother! No wonder he's so fond of +boys. He tries to warn them, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and the worst of it is that he's really +got over his grouch; and he's in love—but +tied down by that foolish oath, poor man."</p> + +<p>"Is he, Grandma? How do you know? +With whom?"</p> + +<p>"You dear, blind child!" said the old lady, +"with you, of course. Has been ever since +we came."</p> + +<p>The girl sat silent, a strange feeling of joy +rising in her heart, as she reviewed the +events of the last two years. So that was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> +why he would not stay that night. And that +was why. "No wonder he wouldn't come +here!" she said at length. "It's on account +of that woman. But why did he change?"</p> + +<p>"Because she went over there to see him. +He wouldn't come to her. I heard her +'phone to him one evening." The old lady +chuckled. "So she marched herself over +there—I saw her, and I guess she got her +needin's. She didn't stay long. And his +light burned till morning."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he cares for her, still?"</p> + +<p>"Cares for her!" The old lady fairly +snorted her derision. "He can't bear the +sight of her—treats her as if she wasn't +there. No, indeed. If he did she'd have +him fast enough, now. Well! I suppose +he'll repent of that foolishness of his all the +days of his life—and stick it out! Poor +man."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pettigrew sighed, and Vivian echoed +the sigh. She began to observe Dr. Hale with +new eyes; to study little matters of tone and +manner—and could not deny her grandmother's +statement. Nor would she admit +it—yet.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span></p> + +<p>The old lady seemed weaker and more +irritable, but positively forbade any word of +this being sent to her family.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing on earth ails me," she +said. "Dr. Hale says there's not a thing the +matter that he can see—that if I'd only eat +more I'd get stronger. I'll be all right soon, +my dear. I'll get my appetite and get well, +I have faith to believe."</p> + +<p>She insisted on his coming over in the +evening, when not too busy, and staying till +she dropped asleep, and he seemed strangely +willing to humor her; sitting for hours in +the quiet parlor, while Vivian played softly, +and sang her low-toned hymns.</p> + +<p>So sitting, one still evening, when for +some time no fretful "not so loud" had come +from the next room, he turned suddenly to +Vivian and asked, almost roughly—"Do +you hold a promise binding?—an oath, a +vow—to oneself?"</p> + +<p>She met his eyes, saw the deep pain there, +the long combat, the irrepressible hope and +longing.</p> + +<p>"Did you swear to keep your oath secret?" +she asked.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, no," he said, "I did not. I will tell +you. I did not swear never to tell a woman +I loved her. I never dreamed I should love +again. Vivian, I was fool enough to love a +shallow, cruel woman, once, and nearly +broke my heart in consequence. That was +long years ago. I have never cared for a +woman since—till I met you. And now I +must pay double for that boy folly."</p> + +<p>He came to her and took her hand.</p> + +<p>"I love you," he said, his tense grip hurting +her. "I shall love you as long as I +live—day and night—forever! You shall +know that at any rate!"</p> + +<p>She could not raise her eyes. A rich +bright color rose to the soft border of her +hair. He caught her face in his hands and +made her look at him; saw those dark, brilliant +eyes softened, tear-filled, asking, and +turned sharply away with a muffled cry.</p> + +<p>"I have taken a solemn oath," he said in +a strained, hard voice, "never to ask a +woman to marry me."</p> + +<p>He heard a little gasping laugh, and +turned upon her. She stood there smiling, +her hands reached out to him.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span></p> + +<p>"You don't have to," she said.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>A long time later, upon their happy stillness +broke a faint voice from the other room:</p> + +<p>"Vivian, I think if you'd bring me some +bread and butter—and a cup of tea—and +some cold beef and a piece of pie—I could +eat it."</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> + +<p>Upon the rapid and complete recovery of +her grandmother's health, and the announcement +of Vivian's engagement, Mr. and Mrs. +Lane decided to make a visit to their distant +mother and daughter, hoping as well that +Mr. Lane's cough might be better for a visit +in that altitude. Mr. and Mrs. Dykeman +also sent word of their immediate return.</p> + +<p>Jeanne, using subtle powers of suggestion, +caused Mrs. Pettigrew to decide upon +giving a dinner, in honor of these events. +There was the betrothed couple, there were +the honored guests; there were Jimmie and +Susie, with or without the baby; there were +the Dykemans; there was Dr. Bellair, of +course; there was Mr. Skee, an even number.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to spoil that table, but I've got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> +to take in Mrs. St. Cloud," said the old lady.</p> + +<p>"O, Grandma! Why! It'll spoil it for +Dick."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said her grandmother. "He's so +happy you couldn't spoil it with a mummy. +If I don't ask her it'll spoil it for Mr. Skee."</p> + +<p>So Mrs. St. Cloud made an eleventh at the +feast, and neither Mr. Dykeman nor Vivian +could find it in their happy hearts to care.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee arose, looking unusually tall +and shapely in immaculate every-day dress, +his well-brushed hair curling vigorously +around the little bald spots; his smile wide +and benevolent.</p> + +<p>"Ladies and Gentlemen, both Domestic +and Foreign, Friends and Fellowtownsmen +and Women—Ladies, God Bless 'em; also +Children, if any: I feel friendly enough to-night +to include the beasts of the fields—but +such would be inappropriate at this convivial +board—among these convivial boarders.</p> + +<p>"This is an occasion of great rejoicing. +We have many things to rejoice over, +both great <i>and</i> small. We have our healths; +all of us, apparently. We are experiencing +the joys of reunion—in the matter of visit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span>ing +parents that is, and long absent +daughters.</p> + +<p>"We have also the Return of the Native, +in the shape of my old friend Andy—now +become a Benedict—and seeming to enjoy +it. About this same Andy I have a piece of +news to give you which will cause you +astonishment and gratification, but which +involves me in a profuse apology—a most +sincere and general apology.</p> + +<p>"You know how a year or more ago it was +put about in this town that Andrew Dykeman +was a ruined man?" Mrs. St. Cloud +darted a swift glance at Mr. Dykeman, but +his eyes rested calmly on his wife; then at +Mr. Skee—but he was pursuing his remorseful +way.</p> + +<p>"I do not wish to blame my friend Andy +for his reticence—but he certainly did exhibit +reticence on this occasion—to beat the +band! He never contradicted this rumor—not +once. <i>He</i> just went about looking kind +o' down in the mouth for some reason or +other, and when for the sake o' Auld Lang +Syne I offered him a job in my office—the +cuss took it! I won't call this de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span>ceitful, +but it sure was reticent to a degree.</p> + +<p>"Well, Ladies—and Gentlemen—the best +of us are liable to mistakes, and I have to +admit—I am glad to humble myself and +make this public admission—I was entirely +in error in this matter.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't so. There was nothing in it. +It was rumor, pure and simple. Andy +Dykeman never lost no mine, it appears; or +else he had another up his sleeve concealed +from his best friends. Anyhow, the facts +are these; not only that A. Dykeman as he +sits before you is a prosperous and wealthy +citizen, but that he has been, for these ten +years back, and we were all misled by a mixture +of rumor and reticence. If he has concealed +these facts from the wife of his bosom +I submit that that is carrying reticence too +far!" Again Mrs. St. Cloud sent a swift +glance at the reticent one, and again caught +only his tender apologetic look toward his +wife, and her utter amazement.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dykeman rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I make no apologies for interrupting my +friend," he said. "It is necessary at times. +He at least can never be accused of reticence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span> +Neither do I make apologies for letting +rumor take its course—a course often interesting +to observe. But I do apologize—in +this heartfelt and public manner, to my wife, +for marrying her under false pretenses. But +any of you gentlemen who have ever had any +experience in the attitude of," he hesitated +mercifully, and said, "the World, toward a +man with money, may understand what it +meant to me, after many years of bachelorhood, +to find a heart that not only loved me +for myself alone, but absolutely loved me +better because I'd lost my money—or she +thought I had. I have hated to break the +charm. But now my unreticent friend here +has stated the facts, and I make my confession. +Will you forgive me, Orella?"</p> + +<p>"Speech! Speech!" cried Mr. Skee. But +Mrs. Dykeman could not be persuaded to do +anything but blush and smile and squeeze +her husband's hand under the table, and Mr. +Skee arose once more.</p> + +<p>"This revelation being accomplished," he +continued cheerfully; "and no one any the +worse for it, as I see," he was not looking +in the direction of Mrs. St. Cloud, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> +slippered foot beat softly under the table, +though her face wore its usual sweet expression, +possibly a trifle strained; "I now proceed +to a proclamation of that happy event +to celebrate which we are here gathered together. +I allude to the Betrothal of Our +Esteemed Friend, Dr. Richard Hale, and +the Fairest of the Fair! Regarding the +Fair, we think he has chosen well. But regarding +Dick Hale, his good fortune is so +clear, so evidently undeserved, and his pride +and enjoyment thereof so ostentatious, +as to leave us some leeway to make remarks.</p> + +<p>"Natural remarks, irresistible remarks, as +you might say, and not intended to be +acrimonious. Namely, such as these: It's a +long lane that has no turning; There's many +a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip; The worm +will turn; The pitcher that goes too often to +the well gets broken at last; Better Late +than Never. And so on and so forth. Any +other gentleman like to make remarks on +this topic?"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hale rose, towering to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I think I'd better make them," he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> +"No one else could so fully, so heartily, with +such perfect knowledge point out how many +kinds of a fool I've been for all these years. +And yet of them all there are only two that +I regret—this last two in which if I had been +wiser, perhaps I might have found my happiness +sooner. As that cannot be proven, +however, I will content myself with the general +acknowledgment that Bachelors are +Misguided Bats, I myself having long been +the worst instance; women, in general, are +to be loved and honored; and that I am +proud and glad to accept your congratulations +because the sweetest and noblest +woman in the world has honored me with +her love."</p> + +<p>"I never dreamed you could put so many +words together, Doc—and really make +sense!" said Mr. Skee, genially, as he rose +once more. "You certainly show a proper +spirit at last, and all is forgiven. But now, +my friends; now if your attention is not exhausted, +I have yet another Event to confide +to you."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Lane wore an aspect of +polite interest. Susie and Jim looked at each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> +other with a sad but resigned expression. +So did Mrs. Dykeman and her husband. +Vivian's hand was in her lover's and she +could not look unhappy, but they, too, deprecated +this last announcement, only too +well anticipated. Only Mrs. St. Cloud, her +fair face bowed in gentle confusion, showed +anticipating pleasure.</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee waved his hand toward her with +a large and graceful gesture.</p> + +<p>"You must all of you have noticed the +amount of Platonic Friendship which has +been going on for some time between my +undeserving self and this lovely lady here. +Among so many lovely ladies perhaps I'd +better specify that I refer to the one on my +left.</p> + +<p>"What she has been to me, in my lonely +old age, none of you perhaps realize." +He wore an expression as of one long +exiled, knowing no one who could speak his +language.</p> + +<p>"She has been my guide, counsellor and +friend; she has assisted me with advice most +wise and judicious; she has not interfered +with my habits, but has allowed me to en<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span>joy +life in my own way, with the added attraction +of her companionship.</p> + +<p>"Now, I dare say, there may have been +some of you who have questioned my assertion +that this friendship was purely Platonic. +Perhaps even the lady herself, knowing the +heart of man, may have doubted if my feeling +toward her was really friendship."</p> + +<p>Mr. Skee turned his head a little to one +side and regarded her with a tender inquiring +smile.</p> + +<p>To this she responded sweetly: "Why no, +Mr. Skee, of course, I believed what you +said."</p> + +<p>"There, now," said he, admiringly. +"What is so noble as the soul of woman? It +is to this noble soul in particular, and to all +my friends here in general, that I now confide +the crowning glory of a long and checkered +career, namely, and to wit, that I am +engaged to be married to that Peerless +Lady, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, of whose remarkable +capacities and achievements I can +never sufficiently express my admiration."</p> + +<p>A silence fell upon the table. Mr. Skee +sat down smiling, evidently in cheerful ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span>pectation +of congratulations. Mrs. Pettigrew +wore an alert expression, as of a skilled +fencer preparing to turn any offered thrusts. +Mrs. St. Cloud seemed to be struggling with +some emotion, which shook her usual sweet +serenity. The others, too, were visibly +affected, and not quick to respond.</p> + +<p>Then did Mr. Saunders arise with real +good nature and ever-ready wit; and pour +forth good-humored nonsense with congratulations +all around, till a pleasant atmosphere +was established, in which Mrs. St. +Cloud could so far recover as to say many +proper and pretty things; sadly adding +that she regretted her imminent return to +the East would end so many pleasant +friendships.</p> + +<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="full" /> + + +<!--page 312 is blank +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span> +--> + +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> + + +<h2>BOOKS BY</h2> + +<h1>Charlotte Perkins Gilman</h1> + + +<h3>Moving the Mountain.</h3> + +<p>A Utopia at short range. How we might change this +country in thirty years, if we changed our minds first. +Mrs. Gilman's latest book, like her earliest verse, is a +protest against the parrot cry that "you can't alter human +nature."</p> +<p>By mail of Charlton Co. $1.10</p> + + +<h3>What Diantha Did.</h3> + +<p class="center">A Novel.</p> + +<p class="pa">"What she did was to solve the domestic service +problem for both mistress and maid in a southern California +town."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Survey.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"A sensible book, it gives a new and deserved comprehension +of the importance and complexity of housekeeping."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Independent.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"Mrs. Perkins Gilman is as full of ideas as ever, and +her Diantha is a model for all young women."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Englishwoman.</i>"</div> +<p>By mail of Charlton Co. $1.10</p> + +<br /> +<h3>The Man-Made World.</h3> + +<p class="pa">"We defy any thoughtful person to read this book of +Mrs. Gilman, and not be moved to or towards conviction, +whether he acknowledges it or not."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>San Francisco Star.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"Mrs. Gilman has presented in this work the results +of her thought, study, and observation of the much debated +question of the relation of man to woman and of +woman to man. The subject is developed with much wise +argument and wholesome sense of humor."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>The Craftsman.</i>"</div> +<br /> + +<p class="pa">"Mrs. Gilman has applied her theory with much cleverness, +consistency and logical thinking."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">"<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i>"</div> + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co. $1.10</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span></p> + + +<br /> +<h3>"IN THIS OUR WORLD"</h3> + +<p class="pa">There is a joyous superabundance of life, of +strength, of health, in Mrs. Gilman's verse, which +seems born of the glorious sunshine and rich gardens +of California.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Washington Times.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">The freshness, charm and geniality of her satire +temporarily convert us to her most advanced views.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Boston Journal.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">The poet of women and for women, a new and +prophetic voice in the world. Montaigne would have +rejoiced in her.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Mexican Herald.</i></div> + + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.25</b>.</p> + +<br /> +<h3>"THE HOME"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Indeed, Mrs. Gilman has not intended her book so +much as a treatise for scholars as a surgical operation +on the popular mind.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Critic, New York.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Whatever Mrs. Gilman writes, people read—approving +or protesting, still they read.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Republican, Springfield, Mass.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Full of thought and of new and striking suggestions. +Tells what the average woman has and ought not keep, +what she is and ought not be.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Literature World.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">But it is safe to say that no more stimulating arraignment +has ever before taken shape and that the argument +of the book is noble, and, on the whole, convincing.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Congregationalist, Boston.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">The name of this author is a guarantee of logical +reasoning, sound economical principles and progressive +thought.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Craftsman, Syracuse.</i></div> + + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.00</b>.<br /> +"The Home" has been translated into Swedish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span></p> + +<br /> +<h3>"WOMEN AND ECONOMICS"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Since John Stuart Mill's essay there has been no +book dealing with the whole position of women to +approach it in originality of conception and brilliancy +of exposition.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>London Chronicle.</i></div><br /> + + +<p class="pa">The most significant utterance on the subject since +Mill's "Subjection of Women."</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Nation.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">It is the strongest book on the woman question that +has yet been published.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Minneapolis Journal.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">A remarkable book. A work on economics that has +not a dull page,—the work of a woman about women +that has not a flippant word.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">This book unites in a remarkable degree the charm +of a brilliantly written essay with the inevitable logic +of a proposition of Euclid. Nothing that we have +read for many a long day can approach in clearness +of conception, in power of arrangement, and in lucidity +of expression the argument developed in the first seven +chapters of this remarkable book.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Westminster Gazette, London.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Will be widely read and discussed as the cleverest, +fairest, most forcible presentation of the view of the +rapidly increasing group who look with favor on the +extension of industrial employment to women.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Political Science Quarterly.</i></div> + + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.50</b>.<br /> +"Women and Economics" has been translated into German, +Dutch, Italian, Hungarian, Russian and Japanese.</p> + +<br /> +<h3>"CONCERNING CHILDREN"</h3> + +<p class="pa"><span class="smcap">Wanted</span>:—A philanthropist, to give a copy to every +English-speaking parent.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Times, New York.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">Should be read by every mother in the land.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>The Press, New York.</i></div> + + +<p class="pa">Wholesomely disturbing book that deserves to be +read for its own sake.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Chicago Dial.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.25</b>.<br /> +"Concerning Children" has been translated into German, Dutch +and Yiddish.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span></p> + +<br /> +<h3>"THE YELLOW WALLPAPER"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Worthy of a place beside some of the weird masterpieces +of Hawthorne and Poe.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Literature.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">As a short story it stands among the most powerful +produced in America.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Chicago News.</i></div> + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$0.50</b>.</p> + +<br /> +<h3>"HUMAN WORK"</h3> + +<p class="pa">Charlotte Perkins Gilman has added a third to her +great trilogy of books on economic subjects as they +affect our daily life, particularly in the home. Mrs. +Gilman is by far the most brilliant woman writer of our +day, and this new volume, which she calls "Human +Work," is a glorification of labor.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>New Orleans Picayune.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">Charlotte Perkins Gilman has been writing a new +book, entitled "Human Work." It is the best thing +that Mrs. Gilman has done, and it is meant to focus +all of her previous work, so to speak.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Tribune, Chicago.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">In her latest volume, "Human Work," Charlotte +Perkins Gilman places herself among the foremost +students and elucidators of the problem of social +economics.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>San Francisco Star.</i></div> + +<p class="pa">It is impossible to overestimate the value of the insistence +on the social aspect of human affairs as Mrs. +Gilman has outlined it.</p> +<div style="text-align: right;">—<i>Public Opinion.</i></div> + +<p>By mail of Charlton Co., <b>$1.00</b>.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<div style="text-align: center">CHARLTON COMPANY, 67 Wall St., New York</div> + +<hr class="chap" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span></p> + + + + +<h1>THE FORERUNNER</h1> + +<div class="center"> +A monthly magazine, written,<br /> +edited, owned and published</div> +<br /> +<div class="center">by</div> +<br /> +<div class="center"> + <span style="font-size: 120%;"> + <span class="smcap"><b>Charlotte Perkins Gilman</b></span> + </span> + <br /> + 67 Wall Street, New York City<br /> + U. S. A. +</div> + +<br /> +<div class="center">SUBSCRIPTION PER YEAR</div> + +<table summary="Subscription costs"> + <tr><td align="left">Domestic </td><td align="right">$1.00</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Canadian</td><td align="right">1.12</td></tr> + <tr><td align="left">Foreign</td><td align="right">1.25</td></tr> +</table> +<br /> + + +<div class="center">Bound Volumes, each year $1.40 post paid</div> +<br /> + +<p>This magazine carries Mrs. Gilman's best and newest +work, her social philosophy, verse, satire, fiction, ethical +teaching, humor and opinion.</p> + +<p>It stands for Humanness in Women and Men; for +better methods in Child Culture; for the New Ethics, the +better Economics—the New World we are to make, are +making. The breadth of Mrs. Gilman's thought and her +power of expressing it have made her well-known in +America and Europe as a leader along lines of human +improvement and a champion of woman.</p> + +<p>THE FORERUNNER voices her thought and its +messages are not only many, but strong, true and vital.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr class="tb" /> +<hr class="chap" /> +<hr class="full" /> + + +</div> + + +<div class="transnote"> + +<p>Transcription Notes:</p> + +<p>The original spelling and minor inconsistencies in the spelling and +formatting have been retained.</p> + +<p>Minor punctuation . , ; " ' changes have been made without annotation.</p> + +<p>Other changes to the original text are listed as follows:</p> + +<ul> +<li>Page 2 Man-made/Man-Made: The Man-Made World</li> +<li>Page 45 evclaimed/exclaimed: exclaimed his wife</li> +<li>Page 110 Removed repeated word a: were a real</li> +<li>Page 115 who/why: why his hair's</li> +<li>Page 134 though/thought: I thought as much</li> +<li>Page 164 Mr./My: My dear Miss</li> +<li>Page 169 Removed repeated word and: her own and set it</li> +<li>Page 174 removed redundant word a: he had not had</li> +<li>Page 194 though/thought: I thought I heard</li> +<li>Page 197 litle/little: a little dampened</li> +<li>Page 240 weedings/weddings: wooings and weddings</li> +<li>Page 260 irrestible/irresistible: irresistible from self-enforced</li> +<li>Page 261 Cottonwood/Cottonwoods: to The Cottonwoods</li> +<li>Page 285 busband/husband: live with her husband</li> +<li>Page 317 massages/messages: its messages are not only</li> +</ul> + +</div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crux, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + +***** This file should be named 38551-h.htm or 38551-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/5/38551/ + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Crux + +Author: Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +Release Date: January 11, 2012 [EBook #38551] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + + + + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +[Illustration: Book Cover] + + + + +THE CRUX + + + + +BOOKS BY CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN + + + Women and Economics $1.50 + Concerning Children 1.25 + In This Our World (verse) 1.25 + The Yellow Wallpaper (story) 0.50 + The Home 1.00 + Human Work 1.00 + What Diantha Did (novel) 1.00 + The Man-Made World; or, Our Androcentric Culture 1.00 + Moving the Mountain 1.00 + The Crux 1.00 + Suffrage Songs 0.10 + + + + + THE CRUX + + + A NOVEL + BY + CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN + + CHARLTON COMPANY + NEW YORK + 1911 + + + + + Copyright, 1911 + by + Charlotte Perkins Gilman + + + THE CO-OPERATIVE PRESS, 15 SPRUCE STREET, NEW YORK + + + + +PREFACE + + +This story is, first, for young women to read; second, for young men +to read; after that, for anybody who wants to. Anyone who doubts its +facts and figures is referred to "Social Diseases and Marriage," by +Dr. Prince Morrow, or to "Hygiene and Morality," by Miss Lavinia Dock, +a trained nurse of long experience. + +Some will hold that the painful facts disclosed are unfit for young +girls to know. Young girls are precisely the ones who must know them, +in order that they may protect themselves and their children to come. +The time to know of danger is before it is too late to avoid it. + +If some say "Innocence is the greatest charm of young girls," the +answer is, "What good does it do them?" + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. THE BACK WAY 9 + + II. BAINVILLE EFFECTS 31 + + III. THE OUTBREAK 60 + + IV. TRANSPLANTED 81 + + V. CONTRASTS 101 + + VI. NEW FRIENDS AND OLD 126 + + VII. SIDE LIGHTS 149 + + VIII. A MIXTURE 174 + + IX. CONSEQUENCES 204 + + X. DETERMINATION 229 + + XI. THEREAFTER 256 + + XII. ACHIEVEMENTS 283 + + + + + _Who should know but the woman?--The young wife-to-be? + Whose whole life hangs on the choice; + To her the ruin, the misery; + To her, the deciding voice._ + + _Who should know but the woman?--The mother-to-be? + Guardian, Giver, and Guide; + If she may not foreknow, forejudge and foresee, + What safety has childhood beside?_ + + _Who should know but the woman?--The girl in her youth? + The hour of the warning is then, + That, strong in her knowledge and free in her truth, + She may build a new race of new men._ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE BACK WAY + + Along the same old garden path, + Sweet with the same old flowers; + Under the lilacs, darkly dense, + The easy gate in the backyard fence-- + Those unforgotten hours! + + +The "Foote Girls" were bustling along Margate Street with an air of +united purpose that was unusual with them. Miss Rebecca wore her black +silk cloak, by which it might be seen that "a call" was toward. Miss +Jessie, the thin sister, and Miss Sallie, the fat one, were more +hastily attired. They were persons of less impressiveness than Miss +Rebecca, as was tacitly admitted by their more familiar nicknames, a +concession never made by the older sister. + +Even Miss Rebecca was hurrying a little, for her, but the others were +swifter and more impatient. + +"Do come on, Rebecca. Anybody'd think you were eighty instead of +fifty!" said Miss Sallie. + +"There's Mrs. Williams going in! I wonder if she's heard already. Do +hurry!" urged Miss Josie. + +But Miss Rebecca, being concerned about her dignity, would not allow +herself to be hustled, and the three proceeded in irregular order +under the high-arched elms and fence-topping syringas of the small New +England town toward the austere home of Mr. Samuel Lane. + +It was a large, uncompromising, square, white house, planted starkly in +the close-cut grass. It had no porch for summer lounging, no front gate +for evening dalliance, no path-bordering beds of flowers from which to +pluck a hasty offering or more redundant tribute. The fragrance which +surrounded it came from the back yard, or over the fences of neighbors; +the trees which waved greenly about it were the trees of other people. +Mr. Lane had but two trees, one on each side of the straight and narrow +path, evenly placed between house and sidewalk--evergreens. + +Mrs. Lane received them amiably; the minister's new wife, Mrs. +Williams, was proving a little difficult to entertain. She was from +Cambridge, Mass., and emanated a restrained consciousness of that +fact. Mr. Lane rose stiffly and greeted them. He did not like the +Foote girls, not having the usual American's share of the sense of +humor. He had no enjoyment of the town joke, as old as they were, that +"the three of them made a full yard;" and had frowned down as a +profane impertinent the man--a little sore under some effect of +gossip--who had amended it with "make an 'ell, I say." + +Safely seated in their several rocking chairs, and severally rocking +them, the Misses Foote burst forth, as was their custom, in +simultaneous, though by no means identical remarks. + +"I suppose you've heard about Morton Elder?" + +"What do you think Mort Elder's been doing now?" + +"We've got bad news for poor Miss Elder!" + +Mrs. Lane was intensely interested. Even Mr. Lane showed signs of +animation. + +"I'm not surprised," he said. + +"He's done it now," opined Miss Josie with conviction. "I always said +Rella Elder was spoiling that boy." + +"It's too bad--after all she's done for him! He always was a scamp!" +Thus Miss Sallie. + +"I've been afraid of it all along," Miss Rebecca was saying, her voice +booming through the lighter tones of her sisters. "I always said he'd +never get through college." + +"But who is Morton Elder, and what has he done?" asked Mrs. Williams +as soon as she could be heard. + +This lady now proved a most valuable asset. She was so new to the +town, and had been so immersed in the suddenly widening range of her +unsalaried duties as "minister's wife," that she had never even heard +of Morton Elder. + +A new resident always fans the languishing flame of local +conversation. The whole shopworn stock takes on a fresh lustre, topics +long trampled flat in much discussion lift their heads anew, opinions +one scarce dared to repeat again become almost authoritative, old +stories flourish freshly, acquiring new detail and more vivid color. + +Mrs. Lane, seizing her opportunity while the sisters gasped a momentary +amazement at anyone's not knowing the town scapegrace, and taking +advantage of her position as old friend and near neighbor of the family +under discussion, swept into the field under such headway that even the +Foote girls remained silent perforce; surcharged, however, and holding +their breaths in readiness to burst forth at the first opening. + +"He's the nephew--orphan nephew--of Miss Elder--who lives right back +of us--our yards touch--we've always been friends--went to school +together, Rella's never married--she teaches, you know--and her +brother--he owned the home--it's all hers now, he died all of a sudden +and left two children--Morton and Susie. Mort was about seven years +old and Susie just a baby. He's been an awful cross--but she just +idolizes him--she's spoiled him, I tell her." + +Mrs. Lane had to breathe, and even the briefest pause left her stranded +to wait another chance. The three social benefactors proceeded to +distribute their information in a clattering torrent. They sought to +inform Mrs. Williams in especial, of numberless details of the early +life and education of their subject, matters which would have been +treated more appreciatively if they had not been blessed with the later +news; and, at the same time, each was seeking for a more dramatic +emphasis to give this last supply of incident with due effect. + +No regular record is possible where three persons pour forth statement +and comment in a rapid, tumultuous stream, interrupted by cross +currents of heated contradiction, and further varied by the +exclamations and protests of three hearers, or at least, of two; for +the one man present soon relapsed into disgusted silence. + +Mrs. Williams, turning a perplexed face from one to the other, inwardly +condemning the darkening flood of talk, yet conscious of a sinful +pleasure in it, and anxious as a guest, _and_ a minister's wife, to be +most amiable, felt like one watching three kinetescopes at once. She +saw, in confused pictures of blurred and varying outline, Orella Elder, +the young New England girl, only eighteen, already a "school ma'am," +suddenly left with two children to bring up, and doing it, as best she +could. She saw the boy, momentarily changing, in his shuttlecock flight +from mouth to mouth, through pale shades of open mischief to the black +and scarlet of hinted sin, the terror of the neighborhood, the darling +of his aunt, clever, audacious, scandalizing the quiet town. + +"Boys are apt to be mischievous, aren't they?" she suggested when it +was possible. + +"He's worse than mischievous," Mr. Lane assured her sourly. "There's a +mean streak in that family." + +"That's on his mother's side," Mrs. Lane hastened to add. "She was a +queer girl--came from New York." + +The Foote girls began again, with rich profusion of detail, their +voices rising shrill, one above the other, and playing together at +their full height like emulous fountains. + +"We ought not to judge, you know;" urged Mrs. Williams. "What do you +say he's really done?" + +Being sifted, it appeared that this last and most terrible performance +was to go to "the city" with a group of "the worst boys of college," +to get undeniably drunk, to do some piece of mischief. (Here was great +licence in opinion, and in contradiction.) + +"_Anyway_ he's to be suspended!" said Miss Rebecca with finality. + +"Suspended!" Miss Josie's voice rose in scorn. "_Expelled!_ They said +he was expelled." + +"In disgrace!" added Miss Sallie. + +Vivian Lane sat in the back room at the window, studying in the +lingering light of the long June evening. At least, she appeared to be +studying. Her tall figure was bent over her books, but the dark eyes +blazed under their delicate level brows, and her face flushed and +paled with changing feelings. + +She had heard--who, in the same house, could escape hearing the Misses +Foote?--and had followed the torrent of description, hearsay, surmise +and allegation with an interest that was painful in its intensity. + +"It's a _shame_!" she whispered under her breath. "A _shame_! And +nobody to stand up for him!" + +She half rose to her feet as if to do it herself, but sank back +irresolutely. + +A fresh wave of talk rolled forth. + +"It'll half kill his aunt." + +"Poor Miss Elder! I don't know what she'll do!" + +"I don't know what _he'll_ do. He can't go back to college." + +"He'll have to go to work." + +"I'd like to know where--nobody'd hire him in this town." + +The girl could bear it no longer. She came to the door, and there, as +they paused to speak to her, her purpose ebbed again. + +"My daughter, Vivian, Mrs. Williams," said her mother; and the other +callers greeted her familiarly. + +"You'd better finish your lessons, Vivian," Mr. Lane suggested. + +"I have, father," said the girl, and took a chair by the minister's +wife. She had a vague feeling that if she were there, they would not +talk so about Morton Elder. + +Mrs. Williams hailed the interruption gratefully. She liked the +slender girl with the thoughtful eyes and pretty, rather pathetic +mouth, and sought to draw her out. But her questions soon led to +unfortunate results. + +"You are going to college, I suppose?" she presently inquired; and +Vivian owned that it was the desire of her heart. + +"Nonsense!" said her father. "Stuff and nonsense, Vivian! You're not +going to college." + +The Foote girls now burst forth in voluble agreement with Mr. Lane. +His wife was evidently of the same mind; and Mrs. Williams plainly +regretted her question. But Vivian mustered courage enough to make a +stand, strengthened perhaps by the depth of the feeling which had +brought her into the room. + +"I don't know why you're all so down on a girl's going to college. Eve +Marks has gone, and Mary Spring is going--and both the Austin girls. +Everybody goes now." + +"I know one girl that won't," was her father's incisive comment, and her +mother said quietly, "A girl's place is at home--'till she marries." + +"Suppose I don't want to marry?" said Vivian. + +"Don't talk nonsense," her father answered. "Marriage is a woman's +duty." + +"What do you want to do?" asked Miss Josie in the interests of further +combat. "Do you want to be a doctor, like Jane Bellair?" + +"I should like to very much indeed," said the girl with quiet +intensity. "I'd like to be a doctor in a babies' hospital." + +"More nonsense," said Mr. Lane. "Don't talk to me about that woman! +You attend to your studies, and then to your home duties, my dear." + +The talk rose anew, the three sisters contriving all to agree with Mr. +Lane in his opinions about college, marriage and Dr. Bellair, yet to +disagree violently among themselves. + +Mrs. Williams rose to go, and in the lull that followed the liquid +note of a whippoorwill met the girl's quick ear. She quietly slipped +out, unnoticed. + +The Lane's home stood near the outer edge of the town, with an outlook +across wide meadows and soft wooded hills. Behind, their long garden +backed on that of Miss Orella Elder, with a connecting gate in the +gray board fence. Mrs. Lane had grown up here. The house belonged to +her mother, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, though that able lady was seldom +in it, preferring to make herself useful among two growing sets of +grandchildren. + +Miss Elder was Vivian's favorite teacher. She was a careful and +conscientious instructor, and the girl was a careful and conscientious +scholar; so they got on admirably together; indeed, there was a real +affection between them. And just as the young Laura Pettigrew had +played with the younger Orella Elder, so Vivian had played with little +Susie Elder, Miss Orella's orphan niece. Susie regarded the older girl +with worshipful affection, which was not at all unpleasant to an +emotional young creature with unemotional parents, and no brothers or +sisters of her own. + +Moreover, Susie was Morton's sister. + +The whippoorwill's cry sounded again through the soft June night. +Vivian came quickly down the garden path between the bordering beds of +sweet alyssum and mignonette. A dew-wet rose brushed against her hand. +She broke it off, pricking her fingers, and hastily fastened it in the +bosom of her white frock. + +Large old lilac bushes hung over the dividing fence, a thick mass of +honeysuckle climbed up by the gate and mingled with them, spreading +over to a pear tree on the Lane side. In this fragrant, hidden corner +was a rough seat, and from it a boy's hand reached out and seized the +girl's, drawing her down beside him. She drew away from him as far as +the seat allowed. + +"Oh Morton!" she said. "What have you done?" + +Morton was sulky. + +"Now Vivian, are you down on me too? I thought I had one friend." + +"You ought to tell me," she said more gently. "How can I be your friend +if I don't know the facts? They are saying perfectly awful things." + +"Who are?" + +"Why--the Foote girls--everybody." + +"Oh those old maids aren't everybody, I assure you. You see, Vivian, +you live right here in this old oyster of a town--and you make +mountains out of molehills like everybody else. A girl of your +intelligence ought to know better." + +She drew a great breath of relief. "Then you haven't--done it?" + +"Done what? What's all this mysterious talk anyhow? The prisoner has a +right to know what he's charged with before he commits himself." + +The girl was silent, finding it difficult to begin. + +"Well, out with it. What do they say I did?" He picked up a long dry +twig and broke it, gradually, into tiny, half-inch bits. + +"They say you--went to the city--with a lot of the worst boys in +college----" + +"Well? Many persons go to the city every day. That's no crime, surely. +As for 'the worst boys in college,'"--he laughed scornfully--"I +suppose those old ladies think if a fellow smokes a cigarette or says +'darn' he's a tough. They're mighty nice fellows, that bunch--most of +'em. Got some ginger in 'em, that's all. What else?" + +"They say--you drank." + +"O ho! Said I got drunk, I warrant! Well--we did have a skate on that +time, I admit!" And he laughed as if this charge were but a familiar +joke. + +"Why Morton Elder! I think it is a--disgrace!" + +"Pshaw, Vivian!--You ought to have more sense. All the fellows get gay +once in a while. A college isn't a young ladies' seminary." + +He reached out and got hold of her hand again, but she drew it away. + +"There was something else," she said. + +"What was it?" he questioned sharply. "What did they say?" + +But she would not satisfy him--perhaps could not. + +"I should think you'd be ashamed, to make your aunt so much trouble. +They said you were suspended--or--_expelled_!" + +He shrugged his big shoulders and threw away the handful of broken +twigs. + +"That's true enough--I might as well admit that." + +"Oh, _Morton_!--I didn't believe it. _Expelled!_" + +"Yes, expelled--turned down--thrown out--fired! And I'm glad of it." He +leaned back against the fence and whistled very softly through his +teeth. + +"Sh! Sh!" she urged. "Please!" + +He was quiet. + +"But Morton--what are you going to do?--Won't it spoil your career?" + +"No, my dear little girl, it will not!" said he. "On the contrary, it +will be the making of me. I tell you, Vivian, I'm sick to death of this +town of maiden ladies--and 'good family men.' I'm sick of being fussed +over for ever and ever, and having wristers and mufflers knitted for +me--and being told to put on my rubbers! There's no fun in this old +clamshell--this kitchen-midden of a town--and I'm going to quit it." + +He stood up and stretched his long arms. "I'm going to quit it for +good and all." + +The girl sat still, her hands gripping the seat on either side. + +"Where are you going?" she asked in a low voice. + +"I'm going west--clear out west. I've been talking with Aunt Rella +about it. Dr. Bellair'll help me to a job, she thinks. She's awful cut +up, of course. I'm sorry she feels bad--but she needn't, I tell her. I +shall do better there than I ever should have here. I know a fellow +that left college--his father failed--and he went into business and +made two thousand dollars in a year. I always wanted to take up +business--you know that!" + +She knew it--he had talked of it freely before they had argued and +persuaded him into the college life. She knew, too, how his aunt's hopes +all centered in him, and in his academic honors and future professional +life. "Business," to his aunt's mind, was a necessary evil, which could +at best be undertaken only after a "liberal education." + +"When are you going," she asked at length. + +"Right off--to-morrow." + +She gave a little gasp. + +"That's what I was whippoorwilling about--I knew I'd get no other +chance to talk to you--I wanted to say good-by, you know." + +The girl sat silent, struggling not to cry. He dropped beside her, +stole an arm about her waist, and felt her tremble. + +"Now, Viva, don't you go and cry! I'm sorry--I really am sorry--to +make _you_ feel bad." + +This was too much for her, and she sobbed frankly. + +"Oh, Morton! How could you! How could you!--And now you've got to go +away!" + +"There now--don't cry--sh!--they'll hear you." + +She did hush at that. + +"And don't feel so bad--I'll come back some time--to see you." + +"No, you won't!" she answered with sudden fierceness. "You'll just +go--and stay--and I never shall see you again!" + +He drew her closer to him. "And do you care--so much--Viva?" + +"Of course, I care!" she said, "Haven't we always been friends, the +best of friends?" + +"Yes--you and Aunt Rella have been about all I had," he admitted with +a cheerful laugh. "I hope I'll make more friends out yonder. But +Viva,"--his hand pressed closer--"is it only--friends?" + +She took fright at once and drew away from him. "You mustn't do that, +Morton!" + +"Do what?" A shaft of moonlight shone on his teasing face. "What am I +doing?" he said. + +It is difficult--it is well nigh impossible--for a girl to put a name +to certain small cuddlings not in themselves terrifying, nor even +unpleasant, but which she obscurely feels to be wrong. + +Viva flushed and was silent--he could see the rich color flood her face. + +"Come now--don't be hard on a fellow!" he urged. "I shan't see you again +in ever so long. You'll forget all about me before a year's over." + +She shook her head, still silent. + +"Won't you speak to me--Viva?" + +"I wish----" She could not find the words she wanted. "Oh, I wish +you--wouldn't!" + +"Wouldn't what, Girlie? Wouldn't go away? Sorry to disoblige--but I +have to. There's no place for me here." + +The girl felt the sad truth of that. + +"Aunt Rella will get used to it after a while. I'll write to her--I'll +make lots of money--and come back in a few years--astonish you +all!--Meanwhile--kiss me good-by, Viva!" + +She drew back shyly. She had never kissed him. She had never in her +life kissed any man younger than an uncle. + +"No, Morton--you mustn't----" She shrank away into the shadow. + +But, there was no great distance to shrink to, and his strong arms +soon drew her close again. + +"Suppose you never see me again," he said. "Then you'll wish you +hadn't been so stiff about it." + +She thought of this dread possibility with a sudden chill of horror, +and while she hesitated, he took her face between her hands and kissed +her on the mouth. + +Steps were heard coming down the path. + +"They're on," he said with a little laugh. "Good-by, Viva!" + +He vaulted the fence and was gone. + +"What are you doing here, Vivian?" demanded her father. + +"I was saying good-by to Morton," she answered with a sob. + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself--philandering out here in the +middle of the night with that scapegrace! Come in the house and go to +bed at once--it's ten o'clock." + +Bowing to this confused but almost equally incriminating chronology, +she followed him in, meekly enough as to her outward seeming, but +inwardly in a state of stormy tumult. + +She had been kissed! + +Her father's stiff back before her could not blot out the radiant, +melting moonlight, the rich sweetness of the flowers, the tender, +soft, June night. + +"You go to bed," said he once more. "I'm ashamed of you." + +"Yes, father," she answered. + +Her little room, when at last she was safely in it and had shut the +door and put a chair against it--she had no key--seemed somehow changed. + +She lit the lamp and stood looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes +were star-bright. Her cheeks flamed softly. Her mouth looked guilty +and yet glad. + +She put the light out and went to the window, kneeling there, leaning +out in the fragrant stillness, trying to arrange in her mind this +mixture of grief, disapproval, shame and triumph. + +When the Episcopal church clock struck eleven, she went to bed in +guilty haste, but not to sleep. + +For a long time she lay there watching the changing play of moonlight +on the floor. + +She felt almost as if she were married. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +BAINVILLE EFFECTS. + + Lockstep, handcuffs, ankle-ball-and-chain, + Dulltoil and dreary food and drink; + Small cell, cold cell, narrow bed and hard; + High wall, thick wall, window iron-barred; + Stone-paved, stone-pent little prison yard-- + Young hearts weary of monotony and pain, + Young hearts weary of reiterant refrain: + "They say--they do--what will people think?" + + +At the two front windows of their rather crowded little parlor sat +Miss Rebecca and Miss Josie Foote, Miss Sallie being out on a foraging +expedition--marketing, as it were, among their neighbors to collect +fresh food for thought. + +A tall, slender girl in brown passed on the opposite walk. + +"I should think Vivian Lane would get tired of wearing brown," said +Miss Rebecca. + +"I don't know why she should," her sister promptly protested, "it's a +good enough wearing color, and becoming to her." + +"She could afford to have more variety," said Miss Rebecca. "The Lanes +are mean enough about some things, but I know they'd like to have her +dress better. She'll never get married in the world." + +"I don't know why not. She's only twenty-five--and good-looking." + +"Good-looking! That's not everything. Plenty of girls marry that are +not good-looking--and plenty of good-looking girls stay single." + +"Plenty of homely ones, too. Rebecca," said Miss Josie, with meaning. +Miss Rebecca certainly was not handsome. "Going to the library, of +course!" she pursued presently. "That girl reads all the time." + +"So does her grandmother. I see her going and coming from that library +every day almost." + +"Oh, well--she reads stories and things like that. Sallie goes pretty +often and she notices. We use that library enough, goodness knows, but +they are there every day. Vivian Lane reads the queerest +things--doctor's books and works on pedagoggy." + +"Godgy," said Miss Rebecca, "not goggy." And as her sister ignored +this correction, she continued: "They might as well have let her go to +college when she was so set on it." + +"College! I don't believe she'd have learned as much in any college, +from what I hear of 'em, as she has in all this time at home." The +Foote girls had never entertained a high opinion of extensive culture. + +"I don't see any use in a girl's studying so much," said Miss Rebecca +with decision. + +"Nor I," agreed Miss Josie. "Men don't like learned women." + +"They don't seem to always like those that aren't learned, either," +remarked Miss Rebecca with a pleasant sense of retribution for that +remark about "homely ones." + +The tall girl in brown had seen the two faces at the windows opposite, +and had held her shoulders a little straighter as she turned the corner. + +"Nine years this Summer since Morton Elder went West," murmured Miss +Josie, reminiscently. "I shouldn't wonder if Vivian had stayed single +on his account." + +"Nonsense!" her sister answered sharply. "She's not that kind. She's +not popular with men, that's all. She's too intellectual." + +"She ought to be in the library instead of Sue Elder," Miss Rebecca +suggested. "She's far more competent. Sue's a feather-headed little +thing." + +"She seems to give satisfaction so far. If the trustees are pleased +with her, there's no reason for you to complain that I see," said Miss +Rebecca with decision. + + * * * * * + +Vivian Lane waited at the library desk with an armful of books to take +home. She had her card, her mother's and her father's--all utilized. +Her grandmother kept her own card--and her own counsel. + +The pretty assistant librarian, withdrawing herself with some emphasis +from the unnecessary questions of a too gallant old gentleman, came to +attend her. + +"You _have_ got a load," she said, scribbling complex figures with one +end of her hammer-headed pencil, and stamping violet dates with the +other. She whisked out the pale blue slips from the lid pockets, +dropped them into their proper openings in the desk and inserted the +cards in their stead with delicate precision. + +"Can't you wait a bit and go home with me?" she asked. "I'll help you +carry them." + +"No, thanks. I'm not going right home." + +"You're going to see your Saint--I know!" said Miss Susie, tossing her +bright head. "I'm jealous, and you know it." + +"Don't be a goose, Susie! You know you're my very best friend, +but--she's different." + +"I should think she was different!" Susie sharply agreed. "And you've +been 'different' ever since she came." + +"I hope so," said Vivian gravely. "Mrs. St. Cloud brings out one's +very best and highest. I wish you liked her better, Susie." + +"I like you," Susie answered. "You bring out my 'best and highest'--if +I've got any. She don't. She's like a lovely, faint, bright--bubble! I +want to prick it!" + +Vivian smiled down upon her. + +"You bad little mouse!" she said. "Come, give me the books." + +"Leave them with me, and I'll bring them in the car." Susie looked +anxious to make amends for her bit of blasphemy. + +"All right, dear. Thank you. I'll be home by that time, probably." + + * * * * * + +In the street she stopped before a little shop where papers and +magazines were sold. + +"I believe Father'd like the new Centurion," she said to herself, and +got it for him, chatting a little with the one-armed man who kept the +place. She stopped again at a small florist's and bought a little bag +of bulbs. + +"Your mother's forgotten about those, I guess," said Mrs. Crothers, the +florist's wife, "but they'll do just as well now. Lucky you thought of +them before it got too late in the season. Bennie was awfully pleased +with that red and blue pencil you gave him, Miss Lane." + +Vivian walked on. A child ran out suddenly from a gate and seized upon +her. + +"Aren't you coming in to see me--ever?" she demanded. + +Vivian stooped and kissed her. + +"Yes, dear, but not to-night. How's that dear baby getting on?" + +"She's better," said the little girl. "Mother said thank you--lots of +times. Wait a minute--" + +The child fumbled in Vivian's coat pocket with a mischievous upward +glance, fished out a handful of peanuts, and ran up the path laughing +while the tall girl smiled down upon her lovingly. + +A long-legged boy was lounging along the wet sidewalk. Vivian caught +up with him and he joined her with eagerness. + +"Good evening, Miss Lane. Say--are you coming to the club to-morrow +night?" + +She smiled cordially. + +"Of course I am, Johnny. I wouldn't disappoint my boys for +anything--nor myself, either." + +They walked on together chatting until, at the minister's house, she +bade him a cheery "good-night." + +Mrs. St. Cloud was at the window pensively watching the western sky. +She saw the girl coming and let her in with a tender, radiant +smile--a lovely being in a most unlovely room. + +There was a chill refinement above subdued confusion in that +Cambridge-Bainville parlor, where the higher culture of the second +Mrs. Williams, superimposed upon the lower culture of the first, as +that upon the varying tastes of a combined ancestry, made the place +somehow suggestive of excavations at Abydos. + +It was much the kind of parlor Vivian had been accustomed to from +childhood, but Mrs. St. Cloud was of a type quite new to her. Clothed +in soft, clinging fabrics, always with a misty, veiled effect to them, +wearing pale amber, large, dull stones of uncertain shapes, and +slender chains that glittered here and there among her scarfs and +laces, sinking gracefully among deep cushions, even able to sink +gracefully into a common Bainville chair--this beautiful woman had +captured the girl's imagination from the first. + +Clearly known, she was a sister of Mrs. Williams, visiting +indefinitely. Vaguely--and very frequently--hinted, her husband had +"left her," and "she did not believe in divorce." Against her +background of dumb patience, he shone darkly forth as A Brute of +unknown cruelties. Nothing against him would she ever say, and every +young masculine heart yearned to make life brighter to the Ideal +Woman, so strangely neglected; also some older ones. Her Young Men's +Bible Class was the pride of Mr. Williams' heart and joy of such young +men as the town possessed; most of Bainville's boys had gone. + +"A wonderful uplifting influence," Mr. Williams called her, and +refused to say anything, even when directly approached, as to "the +facts" of her trouble. "It is an old story," he would say. "She bears +up wonderfully. She sacrifices her life rather than her principles." + +To Vivian, sitting now on a hassock at the lady's feet and looking up +at her with adoring eyes, she was indeed a star, a saint, a cloud of +mystery. + +She reached out a soft hand, white, slender, delicately kept, wearing +one thin gold ring, and stroked the girl's smooth hair. Vivian seized +the hand and kissed it, blushing as she did so. + +"You foolish child! Don't waste your young affection on an old lady +like me." + +"Old! You! You don't look as old as I do this minute!" said the girl +with hushed intensity. + +"Life wears on you, I'm afraid, my dear.... Do you ever hear from him?" + +To no one else, not even to Susie, could Vivian speak of what now +seemed the tragedy of her lost youth. + +"No," said she. "Never now. He did write once or twice--at first." + +"He writes to his aunt, of course?" + +"Yes," said Vivian. "But not often. And he never--says anything." + +"I understand. Poor child! You must be true, and wait." And the lady +turned the thin ring on her finger. Vivian watched her in a passion of +admiring tenderness. + +"Oh, you understand!" she exclaimed. "You understand!" + +"I understand, my dear," said Mrs. St. Cloud. + +When Vivian reached her own gate she leaned her arms upon it and +looked first one way and then the other, down the long, still street. +The country was in sight at both ends--the low, monotonous, wooded +hills that shut them in. It was all familiar, wearingly familiar. She +had known it continuously for such part of her lifetime as was +sensitive to landscape effects, and had at times a mad wish for an +earthquake to change the outlines a little. + +The infrequent trolley car passed just then and Sue Elder joined her, +to take the short cut home through the Lane's yard. + +"Here you are," she said cheerfully, "and here are the books." + +Vivian thanked her. + +"Oh, say--come in after supper, can't you? Aunt Rella's had another +letter from Mort." + +Vivian's sombre eyes lit up a little. + +"How's he getting on? In the same business he was last year?" she +asked with an elaborately cheerful air. Morton had seemed to change +occupations oftener than he wrote letters. + +"Yes, I believe so. I guess he's well. He never says much, you know. +I don't think it's good for him out there--good for any boy." And +Susie looked quite the older sister. + +"What are they to do? They can't stay here." + +"No, I suppose not--but we have to." + +"Dr. Bellair didn't," remarked Vivian. "I like her--tremendously, +don't you?" In truth, Dr. Bellair was already a close second to Mrs. +St. Cloud in the girl's hero-worshipping heart. + +"Oh, yes; she's splendid! Aunt Rella is so glad to have her with us. +They have great times recalling their school days together. Aunty used +to like her then, though she is five years older--but you'd never +dream it. And I think she's real handsome." + +"She's not beautiful," said Vivian, with decision, "but she's a lot +better. Sue Elder, I wish----" + +"Wish what?" asked her friend. + +Sue put the books on the gate-post, and the two girls, arm in arm, +walked slowly up and down. + +Susie was a round, palely rosy little person, with a delicate face and +soft, light hair waving fluffily about her small head. Vivian's hair was +twice the length, but so straight and fine that its mass had no effect. +She wore it in smooth plaits wound like a wreath from brow to nape. + +After an understanding silence and a walk past three gates and back +again, Vivian answered her. + +"I wish I were in your shoes," she said. + +"What do you mean--having the Doctor in the house?" + +"No--I'd like that too; but I mean work to do--your position." + +"Oh, the library! You needn't; it's horrid. I wish I were in your shoes, +and had a father and mother to take care of me. I can tell you, it's no +fun--having to be there just on time or get fined, and having to poke +away all day with those phooty old ladies and tiresome children." + +"But you're independent." + +"Oh, yes, I'm independent. I have to be. Aunt Rella _could_ take care +of me, I suppose, but of course I wouldn't let her. And I dare say +library work is better than school-teaching." + +"What'll we be doing when we're forty, I wonder?" said Vivian, after +another turn. + +"Forty! Why I expect to be a grandma by that time," said Sue. She was +but twenty-one, and forty looked a long way off to her. + +"A grandma! And knit?" suggested Vivian. + +"Oh, yes--baby jackets--and blankets--and socks--and little shawls. I +love to knit," said Sue, cheerfully. + +"But suppose you don't marry?" pursued her friend. + +"Oh, but I shall marry--you see if I don't. Marriage"--here she +carefully went inside the gate and latched it--"marriage is--a woman's +duty!" And she ran up the path laughing. + +Vivian laughed too, rather grimly, and slowly walked towards her own +door. + +The little sitting-room was hot, very hot; but Mr. Lane sat with his +carpet-slippered feet on its narrow hearth with a shawl around him. + +"Shut the door, Vivian!" he exclaimed irritably. "I'll never get over +this cold if such draughts are let in on me." + +"Why, it's not cold out, Father--and it's very close in here." + +Mrs. Lane looked up from her darning. "You think it's close because +you've come in from outdoors. Sit down--and don't fret your father; +I'm real worried about him." + +Mr. Lane coughed hollowly. He had become a little dry old man with +gray, glassy eyes, and had been having colds in this fashion ever +since Vivian could remember. + +"Dr. Bellair says that the out-door air is the best medicine for a +cold," remarked Vivian, as she took off her things. + +"Dr. Bellair has not been consulted in this case," her father returned +wheezingly. "I'm quite satisfied with my family physician. He's a man, +at any rate." + +"Save me from these women doctors!" exclaimed his wife. + +Vivian set her lips patiently. She had long since learned how widely she +differed from both father and mother, and preferred silence to dispute. + +Mr. Lane was a plain, ordinary person, who spent most of a moderately +useful life in the shoe business, from which he had of late withdrawn. +Both he and his wife "had property" to a certain extent; and now lived +peacefully on their income with neither fear nor hope, ambition nor +responsibility to trouble them. The one thing they were yet anxious +about was to see Vivian married, but this wish seemed to be no nearer +to fulfillment for the passing years. + +"I don't know what the women are thinking of, these days," went on the +old gentleman, putting another shovelful of coal on the fire with a +careful hand. "Doctors and lawyers and even ministers, some of 'em! +The Lord certainly set down a woman's duty pretty plain--she was to +cleave unto her husband!" + +"Some women have no husbands to cleave to, Father." + +"They'd have husbands fast enough if they'd behave themselves," he +answered. "No man's going to want to marry one of these +self-sufficient independent, professional women, of course." + +"I do hope, Viva," said her mother, "that you're not letting that Dr. +Bellair put foolish ideas into your head." + +"I want to do something to support myself--sometime, Mother. I can't +live on my parents forever." + +"You be patient, child. There's money enough for you to live on. It's +a woman's place to wait," put in Mr. Lane. + +"How long?" inquired Vivian. "I'm twenty-five. No man has asked me to +marry him yet. Some of the women in this town have waited +thirty--forty--fifty--sixty years. No one has asked them." + +"I was married at sixteen," suddenly remarked Vivian's grandmother. +"And my mother wasn't but fifteen. Huh!" A sudden little derisive +noise she made; such as used to be written "humph!" + +For the past five years, Mrs. Pettigrew had made her home with the +Lanes. Mrs. Lane herself was but a feeble replica of her energetic +parent. There was but seventeen years difference in their ages, and +comparative idleness with some ill-health on the part of the +daughter, had made the difference appear less. + +Mrs. Pettigrew had but a poor opinion of the present generation. In her +active youth she had reared a large family on a small income; in her +active middle-age, she had trotted about from daughter's house to son's +house, helping with the grandchildren. And now she still trotted about +in all weathers, visiting among the neighbors and vibrating as regularly +as a pendulum between her daughter's house and the public library. + +The books she brought home were mainly novels, and if she perused +anything else in the severe quiet of the reading-room, she did not talk +about it. Indeed, it was a striking characteristic of Mrs. Pettigrew +that she talked very little, though she listened to all that went on +with a bright and beady eye, as of a highly intelligent parrot. And now, +having dropped her single remark into the conversation, she shut her +lips tight as was her habit, and drew another ball of worsted from the +black bag that always hung at her elbow. + +She was making one of those perennial knitted garments, which, in her +young days, were called "Cardigan jackets," later "Jerseys," and now by +the offensive name of "sweater." These she constructed in great numbers, +and their probable expense was a source of discussion in the town. "How +do you find friends enough to give them to?" they asked her, and she +would smile enigmatically and reply, "Good presents make good friends." + +"If a woman minds her P's and Q's she can get a husband easy enough," +insisted the invalid. "Just shove that lamp nearer, Vivian, will you." + +Vivian moved the lamp. Her mother moved her chair to follow it and +dropped her darning egg, which the girl handed to her. + +"Supper's ready," announced a hard-featured middle-aged woman, opening +the dining-room door. + +At this moment the gate clicked, and a firm step was heard coming up +the path. + +"Gracious, that's the minister!" cried Mrs. Lane. "He said he'd be in +this afternoon if he got time. I thought likely 'twould be to supper." + +She received him cordially, and insisted on his staying, slipping out +presently to open a jar of quinces. + +The Reverend Otis Williams was by no means loathe to take occasional +meals with his parishioners. It was noted that, in making pastoral +calls, he began with the poorer members of his flock, and frequently +arrived about meal-time at the houses of those whose cooking he +approved. + +"It is always a treat to take supper here," he said. "Not feeling +well, Mr. Lane? I'm sorry to hear it. Ah! Mrs. Pettigrew! Is that +jacket for me, by any chance? A little sombre, isn't it? Good evening, +Vivian. You are looking well--as you always do." + +Vivian did not like him. He had married her mother, he had christened +her, she had "sat under" him for long, dull, uninterrupted years; yet +still she didn't like him. + +"A chilly evening, Mr. Lane," he pursued. + +"That's what I say," his host agreed. "Vivian says it isn't; I say it +is." + +"Disagreement in the family! This won't do, Vivian," said the minister +jocosely. "Duty to parents, you know! Duty to parents!" + +"Does duty to parents alter the temperature?" the girl asked, in a voice +of quiet sweetness, yet with a rebellious spark in her soft eyes. + +"Huh!" said her grandmother--and dropped her gray ball. Vivian picked +it up and the old lady surreptitiously patted her. + +"Pardon me," said the reverend gentleman to Mrs. Pettigrew, "did you +speak?" + +"No," said the old lady, "Seldom do." + +"Silence is golden, Mrs. Pettigrew. Silence is golden. Speech is +silver, but silence is golden. It is a rare gift." + +Mrs. Pettigrew set her lips so tightly that they quite disappeared, +leaving only a thin dented line in her smoothly pale face. She was +called by the neighbors "wonderfully well preserved," a phrase she +herself despised. Some visitor, new to the town, had the hardihood to +use it to her face once. "Huh!" was the response. "I'm just sixty. Henry +Haskins and George Baker and Stephen Doolittle are all older'n I +am--and still doing business, doing it better'n any of the young folks +as far as I can see. You don't compare them to canned pears, do you?" + +Mr. Williams knew her value in church work, and took no umbrage at her +somewhat inimical expression; particularly as just then Mrs. Lane +appeared and asked them to walk out to supper. + +Vivian sat among them, restrained and courteous, but inwardly at war +with her surroundings. Here was her mother, busy, responsible, serving +creamed codfish and hot biscuit; her father, eating wheezily, and +finding fault with the biscuit, also with the codfish; her +grandmother, bright-eyed, thin-lipped and silent. Vivian got on well +with her grandmother, though neither of them talked much. + +"My mother used to say that the perfect supper was cake, preserves, +hot bread, and a 'relish,'" said Mr. Williams genially. "You have the +perfect supper, Mrs. Lane." + +"I'm glad if you enjoy it, I'm sure," said that lady. "I'm fond of a +bit of salt myself." + +"And what are you reading now, Vivian," he asked paternally. + +"Ward," she answered, modestly and briefly. + +"Ward? Dr. Ward of the _Centurion_?" + +Vivian smiled her gentlest. + +"Oh, no," she replied; "Lester F. Ward, the Sociologist." + +"Poor stuff, I think!" said her father. "Girls have no business to +read such things." + +"I wish you'd speak to Vivian about it, Mr. Williams. She's got beyond +me," protested her mother. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "I'd like some more of that quince, Laura." + +"My dear young lady, you are not reading books of which your parents +disapprove, I hope?" urged the minister. + +"Shouldn't I--ever?" asked the girl, in her soft, disarming manner. +"I'm surely old enough!" + +"The duty of a daughter is not measured by years," he replied +sonorously. "Does parental duty cease? Are you not yet a child in your +father's house?" + +"Is a daughter always a child if she lives at home?" inquired the +girl, as one seeking instruction. + +He set down his cup and wiped his lips, flushing somewhat. + +"The duty of a daughter begins at the age when she can understand the +distinction between right and wrong," he said, "and continues as long +as she is blessed with parents." + +"And what is it?" she asked, large-eyed, attentive. + +"What is it?" he repeated, looking at her in some surprise. "It is +submission, obedience--obedience." + +"I see. So Mother ought to obey Grandmother," she pursued +meditatively, and Mrs. Pettigrew nearly choked in her tea. + +Vivian was boiling with rebellion. To sit there and be lectured at the +table, to have her father complain of her, her mother invite pastoral +interference, the minister preach like that. She slapped her +grandmother's shoulder, readjusted the little knit shawl on the +straight back--and refrained from further speech. + +When Mrs. Pettigrew could talk, she demanded suddenly of the +minister, "Have you read Campbell's New Theology?" and from that on +they were all occupied in listening to Mr. Williams' strong, clear and +extensive views on the subject--which lasted into the parlor again. + +Vivian sat for awhile in the chair nearest the window, where some thin +thread of air might possibly leak in, and watched the minister with a +curious expression. All her life he had been held up to her as a +person to honor, as a man of irreproachable character, great learning +and wisdom. Of late she found with a sense of surprise that she did +not honor him at all. He seemed to her suddenly like a relic of past +ages, a piece of an old parchment--or papyrus. In the light of the +studies she had been pursuing in the well-stored town library, the +teachings of this worthy old gentleman appeared a jumble of age-old +traditions, superimposed one upon another. + +"He's a palimpsest," she said to herself, "and a poor palimpsest at +that." + +She sat with her shapely hands quiet in her lap while her +grandmother's shining needles twinkled in the dark wool, and her +mother's slim crochet hook ran along the widening spaces of some thin, +white, fuzzy thing. The rich powers of her young womanhood longed for +occupation, but she could never hypnotize herself with "fancywork." +Her work must be worth while. She felt the crushing cramp and +loneliness of a young mind, really stronger than those about her, yet +held in dumb subjection. She could not solace herself by loving them; +her father would have none of it, and her mother had small use for +what she called "sentiment." All her life Vivian had longed for more +loving, both to give and take; but no one ever imagined it of her, she +was so quiet and repressed in manner. The local opinion was that if a +woman had a head, she could not have a heart; and as to having a +body--it was indelicate to consider such a thing. + +"I mean to have six children," Vivian had planned when she was younger. +"And they shall never be hungry for more loving." She meant to make up +to her vaguely imagined future family for all that her own youth missed. + +Even Grandma, though far more sympathetic in temperament, was not +given to demonstration, and Vivian solaced her big, tender heart by +cuddling all the babies she could reach, and petting cats and dogs +when no children were to be found. + +Presently she arose and bade a courteous goodnight to the still prolix +parson. + +"I'm going over to Sue's," she said, and went out. + + * * * * * + +There was a moon again--a low, large moon, hazily brilliant. The air +was sweet with the odors of scarce-gone Summer, of coming Autumn. + +The girl stood still, half-way down the path, and looked steadily into +that silver radiance. Moonlight always filled her heart with a vague +excitement, a feeling that something ought to happen--soon. + +This flat, narrow life, so long, so endlessly long--would nothing ever +end it? Nine years since Morton went away! Nine years since the +strange, invading thrill of her first kiss! Back of that was only +childhood; these years really constituted Life; and Life, in the +girl's eyes, was a dreary treadmill. + +She was externally quiet, and by conscience dutiful; so dutiful, so +quiet, so without powers of expression, that the ache of an +unsatisfied heart, the stir of young ambitions, were wholly +unsuspected by those about her. A studious, earnest, thoughtful +girl--but study alone does not supply life's needs, nor does such +friendship as her life afforded. + +Susie was "a dear"--Susie was Morton's sister, and she was very fond +of her. But that bright-haired child did not understand--could not +understand--all that she needed. + +Then came Mrs. St. Cloud into her life, stirring the depths of romance, +of the buried past, and of the unborn future. From her she learned to +face a life of utter renunciation, to be true, true to her ideals, true +to her principles, true to the past, to be patient; and to wait. + +So strengthened, she had turned a deaf ear to such possible voice of +admiration as might have come from the scant membership of the Young +Men's Bible Class, leaving them the more devoted to Scripture study. +There was no thin ring to turn upon her finger; but, for lack of +better token, she had saved the rose she wore upon her breast that +night, keeping it hidden among her precious things. + +And then, into the gray, flat current of her daily life, sharply +across the trend of Mrs. St. Cloud's soft influence, had come a new +force--Dr. Bellair. + +Vivian liked her, yet felt afraid, a slight, shivering hesitancy as +before a too cold bath, a subtle sense that this breezy woman, strong, +cheerful, full of new ideas, if not ideals, and radiating actual +power, power used and enjoyed, might in some way change the movement +of her life. + +Change she desired, she longed for, but dreaded the unknown. + +Slowly she followed the long garden path, paused lingeringly by that +rough garden seat, went through and closed the gate. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE OUTBREAK + + There comes a time + After white months of ice-- + Slow months of ice--long months of ice-- + There comes a time when the still floods below + Rise, lift, and overflow-- + Fast, far they go. + + +Miss Orella sat in her low armless rocker, lifting perplexed, patient +eyes to look up at Dr. Bellair. + +Dr. Bellair stood squarely before her, stood easily, on broad-soled, +low-heeled shoes, and looked down at Miss Orella; her eyes were +earnest, compelling, full of hope and cheer. + +"You are as pretty as a girl, Orella," she observed irrelevantly. + +Miss Orella blushed. She was not used to compliments, even from a +woman, and did not know how to take them. + +"How you talk!" she murmured shyly. + +"I mean to talk," continued the doctor, "until you listen to reason." + +Reason in this case, to Dr. Bellair's mind, lay in her advice to Miss +Elder to come West with her--to live. + +"I don't see how I can. It's--it's such a Complete Change." + +Miss Orella spoke as if Change were equivalent to Sin, or at least to +Danger. + +"Do you good. As a physician, I can prescribe nothing better. You need +a complete change if anybody ever did." + +"Why, Jane! I am quite well." + +"I didn't say you were sick. But you are in an advanced stage of +_arthritis deformans_ of the soul. The whole town's got it!" + +The doctor tramped up and down the little room, freeing her mind. + +"I never saw such bed-ridden intellects in my life! I suppose it was +so when I was a child--and I was too young to notice it. But surely +it's worse now. The world goes faster and faster every day, the people +who keep still get farther behind! I'm fond of you, Rella. You've got +an intellect, and a conscience, and a will--a will like iron. But you +spend most of your strength in keeping yourself down. Now, do wake up +and use it to break loose! You don't have to stay here. Come out to +Colorado with me--and Grow." + +Miss Elder moved uneasily in her chair. She laid her small embroidery +hoop on the table, and straightened out the loose threads of silk, the +doctor watching her impatiently. + +"I'm too old," she said at length. + +Jane Bellair laughed aloud, shortly. + +"Old!" she cried. "You're five years younger than I am. You're only +thirty-six! Old! Why, child, your life's before you--to make." + +"You don't realize, Jane. You struck out for yourself so young--and +you've grown up out there--it seems to be so different--there." + +"It is. People aren't afraid to move. What have you got here you so +hate to leave, Rella?" + +"Why, it's--Home." + +"Yes. It's home--now. Are you happy in it?" + +"I'm--contented." + +"Don't you deceive yourself, Rella. You are not contented--not by a +long chalk. You are doing your duty as you see it; and you've kept +yourself down so long you've almost lost the power of motion. I'm +trying to galvanize you awake--and I mean to do it." + +"You might as well sit down while you're doing it, anyway," Miss Elder +suggested meekly. + +Dr. Bellair sat down, selecting a formidable fiddle-backed chair, the +unflinching determination of its widely-placed feet being repeated by +her own square toes. She placed herself in front of her friend and +leaned forward, elbows on knees, her strong, intelligent hands clasped +loosely. + +"What have you got to look forward to, Rella?" + +"I want to see Susie happily married--" + +"I said _you_--not Susie." + +"Oh--me? Why, I hope some day Morton will come back----" + +"I said _you_--not Morton." + +"Why I--you know I have friends, Jane--and neighbors. And some day, +perhaps--I mean to go abroad." + +"Are you scolding Aunt Rella again, Dr. Bellair. I won't stand it." +Pretty Susie stood in the door smiling. + +"Come and help me then," the doctor said, "and it won't sound so much +like scolding." + +"I want Mort's letter--to show to Viva," the girl answered, and +slipped out with it. + +She sat with Vivian on the stiff little sofa in the back room; the +arms of the two girls were around one another, and they read the +letter together. More than six months had passed since his last one. + +It was not much of a letter. Vivian took it in her own hands and went +through it again, carefully. The "Remember me to Viva--unless she's +married," at the end did not seem at all satisfying. Still it might +mean more than appeared--far more. Men were reticent and proud, she +had read. It was perfectly possible that he might be concealing deep +emotion under the open friendliness. He was in no condition to speak +freely, to come back and claim her. He did not wish her to feel bound +to him. She had discussed it with Mrs. St. Cloud, shrinkingly, +tenderly, led on by tactful, delicate, questions, by the longing of +her longing heart for expression and sympathy. + +"A man who cannot marry must speak of marriage--it is not honorable," +her friend had told her. + +"Couldn't he--write to me--as a friend?" + +And the low-voiced lady had explained with a little sigh that men +thought little of friendship with women. "I have tried, all my life, +to be a true and helpful friend to men, to such men as seemed worthy, +and they so often--misunderstood." + +The girl, sympathetic and admiring, thought hotly of how other people +misunderstood this noble, lovely soul; how they even hinted that she +"tried to attract men," a deadly charge in Bainville. + +"No," Mrs. St. Cloud had told her, "he might love you better than all +the world--yet not write to you--till he was ready to say 'come.' And, +of course, he wouldn't say anything in his letters to his aunt." + +So Vivian sat there, silent, weaving frail dreams out of "remember me +to Viva--unless she's married." That last clause might mean much. + +Dr. Bellair's voice sounded clear and insistent in the next room. + +"She's trying to persuade Aunt Rella to go West!" said Susie. +"Wouldn't it be funny if she did!" + +In Susie's eyes her Aunt's age was as the age of mountains, and also +her fixity. Since she could remember, Aunt Rella, always palely pretty +and neat, like the delicate, faintly-colored Spring flowers of New +England, had presided over the small white house, the small green +garden and the large black and white school-room. In her vacation she +sewed, keeping that quiet wardrobe of hers in exquisite order--and +also making Susie's pretty dresses. To think of Aunt Orella actually +"breaking up housekeeping," giving up her school, leaving Bainville, +was like a vision of trees walking. + +To Dr. Jane Bellair, forty-one, vigorous, successful, full of new +plans and purposes, Miss Elder's life appeared as an arrested +girlhood, stagnating unnecessarily in this quiet town, while all the +world was open to her. + +"I couldn't think of leaving Susie!" protested Miss Orella. + +"Bring her along," said the doctor. "Best thing in the world for her!" + +She rose and came to the door. The two girls make a pretty picture. +Vivian's oval face, with its smooth Madonna curves under the +encircling wreath of soft, dark plaits, and the long grace of her +figure, delicately built, yet strong, beside the pink, plump little +Susie, roguish and pretty, with the look that made everyone want to +take care of her. + +"Come in here, girls," said the doctor. "I want you to help me. You're +young enough to be movable, I hope." + +They cheerfully joined the controversy, but Miss Orella found small +support in them. + +"Why don't you do it, Auntie!" Susie thought it an excellent joke. "I +suppose you could teach school in Denver as well as here. And you +could Vote! Oh, Auntie--to think of your Voting!" + +Miss Elder, too modestly feminine, too inherently conservative even +to be an outspoken "Anti," fairly blushed at the idea. + +"She's hesitating on your account," Dr. Bellair explained to the girl. +"Wants to see you safely married! I tell her you'll have a thousandfold +better opportunities in Colorado than you ever will here." + +Vivian was grieved. She had heard enough of this getting married, and +had expected Dr. Bellair to hold a different position. + +"Surely, that's not the only thing to do," she protested. + +"No, but it's a very important thing to do--and to do right. It's a +woman's duty." + +Vivian groaned in spirit. That again! + +The doctor watched her understandingly. + +"If women only did their duty in that line there wouldn't be so much +unhappiness in the world," she said. "All you New England girls sit +here and cut one another's throats. You can't possible marry, your +boys go West, you overcrowd the labor market, lower wages, steadily +drive the weakest sisters down till they--drop." + +They heard the back door latch lift and close again, a quick, decided +step--and Mrs. Pettigrew joined them. + +Miss Elder greeted her cordially, and the old lady seated herself in +the halo of the big lamp, as one well accustomed to the chair. + +"Go right on," she said--and knitted briskly. + +"Do take my side, Mrs. Pettigrew," Miss Orella implored her. "Jane +Bellair is trying to pull me up by the roots and transplant me to +Colorado." + +"And she says I shall have a better chance to marry out there--and +ought to do it!" said Susie, very solemnly. "And Vivian objects to +being shown the path of duty." + +Vivian smiled. Her quiet, rather sad face lit with sudden sparkling +beauty when she smiled. + +"Grandma knows I hate that--point of view," she said. "I think men and +women ought to be friends, and not always be thinking about--that." + +"I have some real good friends--boys, I mean," Susie agreed, looking +so serious in her platonic boast that even Vivian was a little +amused, and Dr. Bellair laughed outright. + +"You won't have a 'friend' in that sense till you're fifty, Miss +Susan--if you ever do. There can be, there are, real friendships between +men and women, but most of that talk is--talk, sometimes worse. + +"I knew a woman once, ever so long ago," the doctor continued +musingly, clasping her hands behind her head, "a long way from +here--in a college town--who talked about 'friends.' She was married. +She was a 'good' woman--perfectly 'good' woman. Her husband was not a +very good man, I've heard, and strangely impatient of her virtues. She +had a string of boys--college boys--always at her heels. Quite too +young and too charming she was for this friendship game. She said that +such a friendship was 'an ennobling influence' for the boys. She +called them her 'acolytes.' Lots of them were fairly mad about +her--one young chap was so desperate over it that he shot himself." + +There was a pained silence. + +"I don't see what this has to do with going to Colorado," said Mrs. +Pettigrew, looking from one to the other with a keen, observing eye. +"What's your plan, Dr. Bellair?" + +"Why, I'm trying to persuade my old friend here to leave this place, +change her occupation, come out to Colorado with me, and grow up. +She's a case of arrested development." + +"She wants me to keep boarders!" Miss Elder plaintively protested to +Mrs. Pettigrew. + +That lady was not impressed. + +"It's quite a different matter out there, Mrs. Pettigrew," the doctor +explained. "'Keeping boarders' in this country goes to the tune of +'Come Ye Disconsolate!' It's a doubtful refuge for women who are +widows or would be better off if they were. Where I live it's a sure +thing if well managed--it's a good business." + +Mrs. Pettigrew wore an unconvinced aspect. + +"What do you call 'a good business?'" she asked. + +"The house I have in mind cleared a thousand a year when it was in +right hands. That's not bad, over and above one's board and lodging. +That house is in the market now. I've just had a letter from a friend +about it. Orella could go out with me, and step right into Mrs. +Annerly's shoes--she's just giving up." + +"What'd she give up for?" Mrs. Pettigrew inquired suspiciously. + +"Oh--she got married; they all do. There are three men to one woman in +that town, you see." + +"I didn't know there was such a place in the world--unless it was a +man-of-war," remarked Susie, looking much interested. + +Dr. Bellair went on more quietly. + +"It's not even a risk, Mrs. Pettigrew. Rella has a cousin who would +gladly run this house for her. She's admitted that much. So there's no +loss here, and she's got her home to come back to. I can write to Dick +Hale to nail the proposition at once. She can go when I go, in about a +fortnight, and I'll guarantee the first year definitely." + +"I wouldn't think of letting you do that, Jane! And if it's as good as +you say, there's no need. But a fortnight! To leave home--in a +fortnight!" + +"What are the difficulties?" the old lady inquired. "There are always +some difficulties." + +"You are right, there," agreed the doctor. "The difficulties in this +place are servants. But just now there's a special chance in that line. +Dick says the best cook in town is going begging. I'll read you his +letter." + +She produced it, promptly, from the breast pocket of her neat coat. +Dr. Bellair wore rather short, tailored skirts of first-class +material; natty, starched blouses--silk ones for "dress," and +perfectly fitting light coats. Their color and texture might vary with +the season, but their pockets, never. + +"'My dear Jane' (This is my best friend out there--a doctor, too. We +were in the same class, both college and medical school. We +fight--he's a misogynist of the worst type--but we're good friends all +the same.) 'Why don't you come back? My boys are lonesome without you, +and I am overworked--you left so many mishandled invalids for me to +struggle with. Your boarding house is going to the dogs. Mrs. Annerly +got worse and worse, failed completely and has cleared out, with a +species of husband, I believe. The owner has put in a sort of +caretaker, and the roomers get board outside--it's better than what +they were having. Moreover, the best cook in town is hunting a job. +Wire me and I'll nail her. You know the place pays well. Now, why +don't you give up your unnatural attempt to be a doctor and assume +woman's proper sphere? Come back and keep house!' + +"He's a great tease, but he tells the truth. The house is there, +crying to be kept. The boarders are there--unfed. Now, Orella Elder, +why don't you wake up and seize the opportunity?" + +Miss Orella was thinking. + +"Where's that last letter of Morton's?" + +Susie looked for it. Vivian handed it to her, and Miss Elder read it +once more. + +"There's plenty of homeless boys out there besides yours, Orella," the +doctor assured her. "Come on--and bring both these girls with you. +It's a chance for any girl, Miss Lane." + +But her friend did not hear her. She found what she was looking for in +the letter and read it aloud. "I'm on the road again now, likely to be +doing Colorado most of the year if things go right. It's a fine +country." + +Susie hopped up with a little cry. + +"Just the thing, Aunt Rella! Let's go out and surprise Mort. He thinks +we are just built into the ground here. Won't it be fun, Viva?" + +Vivian had risen from her seat and stood at the window, gazing out with +unseeing eyes at the shadowy little front yard. Morton might be there. +She might see him. But--was it womanly to go there--for that? There were +other reasons, surely. She had longed for freedom, for a chance to grow, +to do something in life--something great and beautiful! Perhaps this was +the opening of the gate, the opportunity of a lifetime. + +"You folks are so strong on duty," the doctor was saying, "Why can't you +see a real duty in this? I tell you, the place is full of men that need +mothering, and sistering--good honest sweethearting and marrying, too. +Come on, Rella. Do bigger work than you've ever done yet--and, as I +said, bring both these nice girls with you. What do you say, Miss Lane?" + +Vivian turned to her, her fine face flushed with hope, yet with a +small Greek fret on the broad forehead. + +"I'd like to, very much, Dr. Bellair--on some accounts. But----" She +could not quite voice her dim objections, her obscure withdrawals; and +so fell back on the excuse of childhood--"I'm sure Mother wouldn't let +me." + +Dr. Bellair smiled broadly. + +"Aren't you over twenty-one?" she asked. + +"I'm twenty-five," the girl replied, with proud acceptance of a life +long done--as one who owned to ninety-seven. + +"And self-supporting?" pursued the doctor. + +Vivian flushed. + +"No--not yet," she answered; "but I mean to be." + +"Exactly! Now's your chance. Break away now, my dear, and come West. You +can get work--start a kindergarten, or something. I know you love +children." + +The girl's heart rose within her in a great throb of hope. + +"Oh--if I _could_!" she exclaimed, and even as she said it, rose +half-conscious memories of the low, sweet tones of Mrs. St. Cloud. "It +is a woman's place to wait--and to endure." + +She heard a step on the walk outside--looked out. + +"Why, here is Mrs. St. Cloud!" she cried. + +"Guess I'll clear out," said the doctor, as Susie ran to the door. She +was shy, socially. + +"Nonsense, Jane," said her hostess, whispering. "Mrs. St. Cloud is no +stranger. She's Mrs. Williams' sister--been here for years." + +She came in at the word, her head and shoulders wreathed in a pearl +gray shining veil, her soft long robe held up. + +"I saw your light, Miss Elder, and thought I'd stop in for a moment. +Good evening, Mrs. Pettigrew--and Miss Susie. Ah! Vivian!" + +"This is my friend, Dr. Bellair--Mrs. St. Cloud," Miss Elder was +saying. But Dr. Bellair bowed a little stiffly, not coming forward. + +"I've met Mrs. St. Cloud before, I think--when she was 'Mrs. James.'" + +The lady's face grew sad. + +"Ah, you knew my first husband! I lost him--many years ago--typhoid +fever." + +"I think I heard," said the doctor. And then, feeling that some +expression of sympathy was called for, she added, "Too bad." + +Not all Miss Elder's gentle hospitality, Mrs. Pettigrew's bright-eyed +interest, Susie's efforts at polite attention, and Vivian's visible +sympathy could compensate Mrs. St. Cloud for one inimical presence. + +"You must have been a mere girl in those days," she said sweetly. +"What a lovely little town it was--under the big trees." + +"It certainly was," the doctor answered dryly. + +"There is such a fine atmosphere in a college town, I think," pursued +the lady. "Especially in a co-educational town--don't you think so?" + +Vivian was a little surprised. She had had an idea that her admired +friend did not approve of co-education. She must have been mistaken. + +"Such a world of old memories as you call up, Dr. Bellair," their +visitor pursued. "Those quiet, fruitful days! You remember Dr. Black's +lectures? Of course you do, better than I. What a fine man he was! And +the beautiful music club we had one Winter--and my little private +dancing class--do you remember that? Such nice boys, Miss Elder! I +used to call them my acolytes." + +Susie gave a little gulp, and coughed to cover it. + +"I guess you'll have to excuse me, ladies," said Dr. Bellair. +"Good-night." And she walked upstairs. + +Vivian's face flushed and paled and flushed again. A cold pain was +trying to enter her heart, and she was trying to keep it out. Her +grandmother glanced sharply from one face to the other. + +"Glad to've met you, Mrs. St. Cloud," she said, bobbing up with +decision. "Good-night, Rella--and Susie. Come on child. It's a wonder +your mother hasn't sent after us." + +For once Vivian was glad to go. + +"That's a good scheme of Jane Bellair's, don't you think so?" asked +the old lady as they shut the gate behind them. + +"I--why yes--I don't see why not." + +Vivian was still dizzy with the blow to her heart's idol. All the +soft, still dream-world she had so labored to keep pure and beautiful +seemed to shake and waver swimmingly. She could not return to it. The +flat white face of her home loomed before her, square, hard, hideously +unsympathetic-- + +"Grandma," said she, stopping that lady suddenly and laying a pleading +hand on her arm, "Grandma, I believe I'll go." + +Mrs. Pettigrew nodded decisively. + +"I thought you would," she said. + +"Do you blame me, Grandma?" + +"Not a mite, child. Not a mite. But I'd sleep on it, if I were you." + +And Vivian slept on it--so far as she slept at all. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +TRANSPLANTED + + Sometimes a plant in its own habitat + Is overcrowded, starved, oppressed and daunted; + A palely feeble thing; yet rises quickly, + Growing in height and vigor, blooming thickly, + When far transplanted. + + +The days between Vivian's decision and her departure were harder than +she had foreseen. It took some courage to make the choice. Had she +been alone, independent, quite free to change, the move would have +been difficult enough; but to make her plan and hold to it in the face +of a disapproving town, and the definite opposition of her parents, +was a heavy undertaking. + +By habit she would have turned to Mrs. St. Cloud for advice; but +between her and that lady now rose the vague image of a young boy, +dead,--she could never feel the same to her again. + +Dr. Bellair proved a tower of strength. "My dear girl," she would say to +her, patiently, but with repressed intensity, "do remember that you are +_not_ a child! You are twenty-five years old. You are a grown woman, and +have as much right to decide for yourself as a grown man. This isn't +wicked--it is a wise move; a practical one. Do you want to grow up like +the rest of the useless single women in this little social cemetery?" + +Her mother took it very hard. "I don't see how you can think of +leaving us. We're getting old now--and here's Grandma to take care +of----" + +"Huh!" said that lady, with such marked emphasis that Mrs. Lane +hastily changed the phrase to "I mean to _be with_--you do like to +have Vivian with you, you can't deny that, Mother." + +"But Mama," said the girl, "you are not old; you are only forty-three. +I am sorry to leave you--I am really; but it isn't forever! I can come +back. And you don't really need me. Sarah runs the house exactly as +you like; you don't depend on me for a thing, and never did. As to +Grandma!"--and she looked affectionately at the old lady--"she don't +need me nor anybody else. She's independent if ever anybody was. She +won't miss me a mite--will you Grandma?" Mrs. Pettigrew looked at her +for a moment, the corners of her mouth tucked in tightly. "No," she +said, "I shan't miss you a mite!" + +Vivian was a little grieved at the prompt acquiescence. She felt +nearer to her grandmother in many ways than to either parent. "Well, +I'll miss you!" said she, going to her and kissing her smooth pale +cheek, "I'll miss you awfully!" + +Mr. Lane expressed his disapproval most thoroughly, and more than +once; then retired into gloomy silence, alternated with violent +dissuasion; but since a woman of twenty-five is certainly free to +choose her way of life, and there was no real objection to this +change, except that it _was_ a change, and therefore dreaded, his +opposition, though unpleasant, was not prohibitive. Vivian's +independent fortune of $87.50, the savings of many years, made the +step possible, even without his assistance. + +There were two weeks of exceeding disagreeableness in the household, +but Vivian kept her temper and her determination under a rain of tears, +a hail of criticism, and heavy wind of argument and exhortation. All her +friends and neighbors, and many who were neither, joined in the effort +to dissuade her; but she stood firm as the martyrs of old. + +Heredity plays strange tricks with us. Somewhere under the girl's dumb +gentleness and patience lay a store of quiet strength from some +Pilgrim Father or Mother. Never before had she set her will against +her parents; conscience had always told her to submit. Now conscience +told her to rebel, and she did. She made her personal arrangements, +said goodbye to her friends, declined to discuss with anyone, was +sweet and quiet and kind at home, and finally appeared at the +appointed hour on the platform of the little station. + +Numbers of curious neighbors were there to see them off, all who knew +them and could spare the time seemed to be on hand. Vivian's mother +came, but her father did not. + +At the last moment, just as the train drew in, Grandma appeared, +serene and brisk, descending, with an impressive amount of hand +baggage, from "the hack." + +"Goodbye, Laura," she said. "I think these girls need a chaperon. I'm +going too." + +So blasting was the astonishment caused by this proclamation, and so +short a time remained to express it, that they presently found +themselves gliding off in the big Pullman, all staring at one another +in silent amazement. + +"I hate discussion," said Mrs. Pettigrew. + + * * * * * + +None of these ladies were used to traveling, save Dr. Bellair, who had +made the cross continent trip often enough to think nothing of it. + +The unaccustomed travelers found much excitement in the journey. As +women, embarking on a new, and, in the eyes of their friends, highly +doubtful enterprise, they had emotion to spare; and to be confronted +at the outset by a totally unexpected grandmother was too much for +immediate comprehension. + +She looked from one to the other, sparkling, triumphant. + +"I made up my mind, same as you did, hearing Jane Bellair talk," she +explained. "Sounded like good sense. I always wanted to travel, always, +and never had the opportunity. This was a real good chance." Her mouth +shut, tightened, widened, drew into a crinkly delighted smile. + +They sat still staring at her. + +"You needn't look at me like that! I guess it's a free country! I +bought my ticket--sent for it same as you did. And I didn't have to +ask _anybody_--I'm no daughter. My duty, as far as I know it, is +_done_! This is a pleasure trip!" + +She was triumph incarnate. + +"And you never said a word!" This from Vivian. + +"Not a word. Saved lots of trouble. Take care of me indeed! Laura +needn't think I'm dependent on her _yet_!" + +Vivian's heart rather yearned over her mother, thus doubly bereft. + +"The truth is," her grandmother went on, "Samuel wants to go to +Florida the worst way; I heard 'em talking about it! He wasn't willing +to go alone--not he! Wants somebody to hear him cough, I say! And +Laura couldn't go--'Mother was so dependent'--_Huh!_" + +Vivian began to smile. She knew this had been talked over, and given +up on that account. She herself could have been easily disposed of, +but Mrs. Lane chose to think her mother a lifelong charge. + +"Act as if I was ninety!" the old lady burst forth again. "I'll show +'em!" + +"I think you're dead right, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Dr. Bellair. "Sixty +isn't anything. You ought to have twenty years of enjoyable life yet, +before they call you 'old'--maybe more." + +Mrs. Pettigrew cocked an eye at her. "My grandmother lived to be a +hundred and four," said she, "and kept on working up to the last year. +I don't know about enjoyin' life, but she was useful for pretty near a +solid century. After she broke her hip the last time she sat still and +sewed and knitted. After her eyes gave out she took to hooking rugs." + +"I hope it will be forty years, Mrs. Pettigrew," said Sue, "and I'm +real glad you're coming. It'll make it more like home." + +Miss Elder was a little slow in accommodating herself to this new +accession. She liked Mrs. Pettigrew very much--but--a grandmother thus +airily at large seemed to unsettle the foundations of things. She was +polite, even cordial, but evidently found it difficult to accept the +facts. + +"Besides," said Mrs. Pettigrew, "you may not get all those boarders at +once and I'll be one to count on. I stopped at the bank this morning +and had 'em arrange for my account out in Carston. They were some +surprised, but there was no time to ask questions!" She relapsed into +silence and gazed with keen interest at the whirling landscape. + +Throughout the journey she proved the best of travelers; was never +car-sick, slept well in the joggling berth, enjoyed the food, and +continually astonished them by producing from her handbag the most +diverse and unlooked for conveniences. An old-fashioned traveller had +forgotten her watchkey--Grandma produced an automatic one warranted to +fit anything. "Takes up mighty little room--and I thought maybe it +would come in handy," she said. + +She had a small bottle of liquid court-plaster, and plenty of the +solid kind. She had a delectable lotion for the hands, a real treasure +on the dusty journey; also a tiny corkscrew, a strong pair of +"pinchers," sewing materials, playing cards, string, safety-pins, +elastic bands, lime drops, stamped envelopes, smelling salts, troches, +needles and thread. + +"Did you bring a trunk, Grandma?" asked Vivian. + +"Two," said Grandma, "excess baggage. All paid for and checked." + +"How did you ever learn to arrange things so well?" Sue asked +admiringly. + +"Read about it," the old lady answered. "There's no end of directions +nowadays. I've been studying up." + +She was so gleeful and triumphant, so variously useful, so steadily +gay and stimulating, that they all grew to value her presence long +before they reached Carston; but they had no conception of the +ultimate effect of a resident grandmother in that new and bustling +town. + +To Vivian the journey was a daily and nightly revelation. She had read +much but traveled very little, never at night. The spreading beauty of +the land was to her a new stimulus; she watched by the hour the +endless panorama fly past her window, its countless shades of green, +the brown and red soil, the fleeting dashes of color where wild +flowers gathered thickly. She was repeatedly impressed by seeing +suddenly beside her the name of some town which had only existed in +her mind as "capital city" associated with "principal exports" and +"bounded on the north." + +At night, sleeping little, she would raise her curtain and look out, +sideways, at the stars. Big shadowy trees ran by, steep cuttings rose +like a wall of darkness, and the hilly curves of open country rose and +fell against the sky line like a shaken carpet. + +She faced the long, bright vistas of the car and studied people's +faces--such different people from any she had seen before. A heavy +young man with small, light eyes, sat near by, and cast frequent +glances at both the girls, going by their seat at intervals. Vivian +considered this distinctly rude, and Sue did not like his looks, so he +got nothing for his pains, yet even this added color to the day. + +The strange, new sense of freedom grew in her heart, a feeling of +lightness and hope and unfolding purpose. + +There was continued discussion as to what the girls should do. + +"We can be waitresses for Auntie till we get something else," Sue +practically insisted. "The doctor says it will be hard to get good +service and I'm sure the boarders would like us." + +"You can both find work if you want it. What do you want to do, +Vivian?" asked Dr. Bellair, not for the first time. + +Vivian was still uncertain. + +"I love children best," she said. "I could teach--but I haven't a +certificate. I'd _love_ a kindergarten; I've studied that--at home." + +"Shouldn't wonder if you could get up a kindergarten right off," the +doctor assured her. "Meantime, as this kitten says, you could help +Miss Elder out and turn an honest penny while you're waiting." + +"Wouldn't it--interfere with my teaching later?" the girl inquired. + +"Not a bit, not a bit. We're not so foolish out here. We'll fix you up +all right in no time." + +It was morning when they arrived at last and came out of the cindery, +noisy crowded cars into the wide, clean, brilliant stillness of the +high plateau. They drew deep breaths; the doctor squared her shoulders +with a glad, homecoming smile. Vivian lifted her head and faced the +new surroundings as an unknown world. Grandma gazed all ways, still +cheerful, and their baggage accrued about them as a rampart. + +A big bearded man, carelessly dressed, whirled up in a dusty runabout, +and stepped out smiling. He seized Dr. Bellair by both hands, and +shook them warmly. + +"Thought I'd catch you, Johnny," he said. "Glad to see you back. If +you've got the landlady, I've got the cook!" + +"Here we are," said she. "Miss Orella Elder--Dr. Hale; Mrs. +Pettigrew, Miss Susie Elder, Miss Lane--Dr. Richard Hale." + +He bowed deeply to Mrs. Pettigrew, shook hands with Miss Orella, and +addressed himself to her, giving only a cold nod to the two girls, and +quite turning away from them. + +Susie, in quiet aside to Vivian, made unfavorable comment. + +"This is your Western chivalry, is it?" she said. "Even Bainville does +better than that." + +"I don't know why we should mind," Vivian answered. "It's Dr. +Bellair's friend; he don't care anything about us." + +But she was rather of Sue's opinion. + +The big man took Dr. Bellair in his car, and they followed in a +station carriage, eagerly observing their new surroundings, and +surprised, as most Easterners are, by the broad beauty of the streets +and the modern conveniences everywhere--electric cars, electric +lights, telephones, soda fountains, where they had rather expected to +find tents and wigwams. + +The house, when they were all safely within it, turned out to be "just +like a real house," as Sue said; and proved even more attractive than +the doctor had described it. It was a big, rambling thing, at home +they would have called it a hotel, with its neat little sign, "The +Cottonwoods," and Vivian finally concluded that it looked like a +seaside boarding house, built for the purpose. + +A broad piazza ran all across the front, the door opening into a big +square hall, a sort of general sitting-room; on either side were four +good rooms, opening on a transverse passage. The long dining-room and +kitchen were in the rear of the hall. + +Dr. Bellair had two, her office fronting on the side street, with a +bedroom behind it. They gave Mrs. Pettigrew the front corner room on +that side and kept the one opening from the hall as their own parlor. +In the opposite wing was Miss Elder's room next the hall, and the +girls in the outer back corner, while the two front ones on that side +were kept for the most impressive and high-priced boarders. + +Mrs. Pettigrew regarded her apartments with suspicion as being too +"easy." + +"I don't mind stairs," she said. "Dr. Bellair has to be next her +office--but why do I have to be next Dr. Bellair?" + +It was represented to her that she would be nearer to everything that +went on and she agreed without more words. + +Dr. Hale exhibited the house as if he owned it. + +"The agent's out of town," he said, "and we don't need him anyway. He +said he'd do anything you wanted, in reason." + +Dr. Bellair watched with keen interest the effect of her somewhat daring +description, as Miss Orella stepped from room to room examining +everything with a careful eye, with an expression of growing +generalship. Sue fluttered about delightedly, discovering advantages +everywhere and making occasional disrespectful remarks to Vivian about +Dr. Hale's clothes. + +"Looks as if he never saw a clothes brush!" she said. "A finger out on +his glove, a button off his coat. No need to tell us there's no woman +in his house!" + +"You can decide about your cook when you've tried her," he said to +Miss Elder. "I engaged her for a week--on trial. She's in the kitchen +now, and will have your dinner ready presently. I think you'll like +her, if----" + +"Good boy!" said Dr. Bellair. "Sometimes you show as much sense as a +woman--almost." + +"What's the 'if'" asked Miss Orella, looking worried. + +"Question of character," he answered. "She's about forty-five, with a +boy of sixteen or so. He's not over bright, but a willing worker. +She's a good woman--from one standpoint. She won't leave that boy nor +give him up to strangers; but she has a past!" + +"What is her present?" Dr. Bellair asked, "that's the main thing." + +Dr. Hale clapped her approvingly on the shoulder, but looked +doubtingly toward Miss Orella. + +"And what's her future if somebody don't help her?" Vivian urged. + +"Can she cook?" asked Grandma. + +"Is she a safe person to have in the house?" inquired Dr. Bellair +meaningly. + +"She can cook," he replied. "She's French, or of French parentage. She +used to keep a little--place of entertainment. The food was excellent. +She's been a patient of mine--off and on--for five years--and I should +call her perfectly safe." + +Miss Orella still looked worried. "I'd like to help her and the boy, but +would it--look well? I don't want to be mean about it, but this is a +very serious venture with us, Dr. Hale, and I have these girls with me." + +"With you and Dr. Bellair and Mrs. Pettigrew the young ladies will be +quite safe, Miss Elder. As to the woman's present character, she has +suffered two changes of heart, she's become a religious devotee--and a +man-hater! And from a business point of view, I assure you that if +Jeanne Jeaune is in your kitchen you'll never have a room empty." + +"Johnny Jones! queer name for a woman!" said Grandma. They repeated it +to her carefully, but she only changed to "Jennie June," and adhered +to one or the other, thereafter. "What's the boy's name?" she asked +further. + +"Theophile," Dr. Hale replied. + +"Huh!" said she. + +"Why don't she keep an eating-house still?" asked Dr. Bellair rather +suspiciously. + +"That's what I like best about her," he answered. "She is trying to +break altogether with her past. She wants to give up 'public +life'--and private life won't have her." + +They decided to try the experiment, and found it worked well. + +There were two bedrooms over the kitchen where "Mrs. Jones" as Grandma +generally called her, and her boy, could be quite comfortable and by +themselves; and although of a somewhat sour and unsociable aspect, and +fiercely watchful lest anyone offend her son, this questionable +character proved an unquestionable advantage. With the boy's help, she +cooked for the houseful, which grew to be a family of twenty-five. He +also wiped dishes, helped in the laundry work, cleaned and scrubbed +and carried coal; and Miss Elder, seeing his steady usefulness, +insisted on paying wages for him too. This unlooked for praise and +gain won the mother's heart, and as she grew more at home with them, +and he less timid, she encouraged him to do the heavier cleaning in +the rest of the house. + +"Huh!" said Grandma. "I wish more sane and moral persons would work +like that!" + +Vivian watched with amazement the swift filling of the house. + +There was no trouble at all about boarders, except in discriminating +among them. "Make them pay in advance, Rella," Dr. Bellair advised, "it +doesn't cost them any more, and it is a great convenience. 'References +exchanged,' of course. There are a good many here that I know--you can +always count on Mr. Dykeman and Fordham Grier, and John Unwin." + +Before a month was over the place was full to its limits with what Sue +called "assorted boarders," the work ran smoothly and the business end +of Miss Elder's venture seemed quite safe. They had the twenty Dr. +Bellair prophesied, and except for her, Mrs. Pettigrew, Miss Peeder, a +teacher of dancing and music; Mrs. Jocelyn, who was interested in +mining, and Sarah Hart, who described herself as a "journalist," all +were men. + +Fifteen men to eight women. Miss Elder sat at the head of her table, +looked down it and across the other one, and marvelled continuously. +Never in her New England life had she been with so many men--except in +church--and they were more scattered. This houseful of heavy feet and +broad shoulders, these deep voices and loud laughs, the atmosphere of +interchanging jests and tobacco smoke, was new to her. She hated the +tobacco smoke, but that could not be helped. They did not smoke in her +parlor, but the house was full of it none the less, in which constant +presence she began to reverse the Irishman's well known judgment of +whiskey, allowing that while all tobacco was bad, some tobacco was +much worse than others. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CONTRASTS + + Old England thinks our country + Is a wilderness at best-- + And small New England thinks the same + Of the large free-minded West. + + Some people know the good old way + Is the only way to do, + And find there must be something wrong + In anything that's new. + + +To Vivian the new life offered a stimulus, a sense of stir and promise +even beyond her expectations. She wrote dutiful letters to her mother, +trying to describe the difference between this mountain town and +Bainville, but found the New England viewpoint an insurmountable +obstacle. + +To Bainville "Out West" was a large blank space on the map, and the +blank space in the mind which matched it was but sparsely dotted with +a few disconnected ideas such as "cowboy," "blizzard," "prairie +fire," "tornado," "border ruffian," and the like. + +The girl's painstaking description of the spreading, vigorous young +town, with its fine, modern buildings, its banks and stores and +theatres, its country club and parks, its pleasant social life, made +small impression on the Bainville mind. But the fact that Miss Elder's +venture was successful from the first did impress old acquaintances, +and Mrs. Lane read aloud to selected visitors her daughter's accounts +of their new and agreeable friends. Nothing was said of "chaps," +"sombreros," or "shooting up the town," however, and therein a +distinct sense of loss was felt. + +Much of what was passing in Vivian's mind she could not make clear to +her mother had she wished to. The daily presence and very friendly +advances of so many men, mostly young and all polite (with the +exception of Dr. Hale, whose indifference was almost rude by +contrast), gave a new life and color to the days. + +She could not help giving some thought to this varied assortment, and +the carefully preserved image of Morton, already nine years dim, waxed +dimmer. But she had a vague consciousness of being untrue to her ideals, +or to Mrs. St. Cloud's ideals, now somewhat discredited, and did not +readily give herself up to the cheerful attractiveness of the position. + +Susie found no such difficulty. Her ideals were simple, and while +quite within the bounds of decorum, left her plenty of room for +amusement. So popular did she become, so constantly in demand for +rides and walks and oft-recurring dances, that Vivian felt called upon +to give elder sisterly advice. + +But Miss Susan scouted her admonitions. + +"Why shouldn't I have a good time?" she said. "Think how we grew up! +Half a dozen boys to twenty girls, and when there was anything to go +to--the lordly way they'd pick and choose! And after all our efforts +and machinations most of us had to dance with each other. And the +quarrels we had! Here they stand around three deep asking for +dances--and _they_ have to dance with each other, and _they_ do the +quarreling. I've heard 'em." And Sue giggled delightedly. + +"There's no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves, Susie, of course, but +aren't you--rather hard on them?" + +"Oh, nonsense!" Sue protested. "Dr. Bellair said I should get married +out here! She says the same old thing--that it's 'a woman's duty,' and +I propose to do it. That is--they'll propose, and I won't do it! Not +till I make up my mind. Now see how you like this!" + +She had taken a fine large block of "legal cap" and set down their +fifteen men thereon, with casual comment. + +1. Mr. Unwin--Too old, big, quiet. + +2. Mr. Elmer Skee--Big, too old, funny. + +3. Jimmy Saunders--Middle-sized, amusing, nice. + +4. P. R. Gibbs--Too little, too thin, too cocky. + +5. George Waterson--Middling, pretty nice. + +6. J. J. Cuthbert--Big, horrid. + +7. Fordham Greer--Big, pleasant. + +8. W. S. Horton--Nothing much. + +9. A. L. Dykeman--Interesting, too old. + +10. Professor Toomey--Little, horrid. + +11. Arthur Fitzwilliam--Ridiculous, too young. + +12. Howard Winchester--Too nice, distrust him. + +13. Lawson W. Briggs--Nothing much. + +14. Edward S. Jenks--Fair to middling. + +15. Mr. A. Smith--Minus. + +She held it up in triumph. "I got 'em all out of the book--quite +correct. Now, which'll you have." + +"Susie Elder! You little goose! Do you imagine that all these fifteen +men are going to propose to you?" + +"I'm sure I hope so!" said the cheerful damsel. "We've only been +settled a fortnight and one of 'em has already!" + +Vivian was impressed at once. "Which?--You don't mean it!" + +Sue pointed to the one marked "minus." + +"It was only 'A. Smith.' I never should be willing to belong to 'A. +Smith,' it's too indefinite--unless it was a last resort. Several more +are--well, extremely friendly! Now don't look so severe. You needn't +worry about me. I'm not quite so foolish as I talk, you know." + +She was not. Her words were light and saucy, but she was as demure and +decorous a little New Englander as need be desired; and she could not +help it if the hearts of the unattached young men of whom the town was +full, warmed towards her. + +Dr. Bellair astonished them at lunch one day in their first week. + +"Dick Hale wants us all to come over to tea this afternoon," she said, +as if it was the most natural thing in the world. + +"Tea? Where?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew sharply. + +"At his house. He has 'a home of his own,' you know. And he +particularly wants you, Mrs. Pettigrew--and Miss Elder--the girls, of +course." + +"I'm sure I don't care to go," Vivian remarked with serene +indifference, but Susie did. + +"Oh, come on, Vivian! It'll be so funny! A man's home!--and we may +never get another chance. He's such a bear!" + +Dr. Hale's big house was only across the road from theirs, standing in +a large lot with bushes and trees about it. + +"He's been here nine years," Dr. Bellair told them. "That's an old +inhabitant for us. He boarded in that house for a while; then it was for +sale and he bought it. He built that little office of his at the +corner--says he doesn't like to live where he works, or work where he +lives. He took his meals over here for a while--and then set up for +himself." + +"I should think he'd be lonely," Miss Elder suggested. + +"Oh, he has his boys, you know--always three or four young fellows +about him. It's a mighty good thing for them, too." + +Dr. Hale's home proved a genuine surprise. They had regarded it as a +big, neglected-looking place, and found on entering the gate that the +inside view of that rampant shrubbery was extremely pleasant. Though +not close cut and swept of leaves and twigs, it still was beautiful; +and the tennis court and tether-ball ring showed the ground well used. + +Grandma looked about her with a keen interrogative eye, and was much +impressed, as, indeed, were they all. She voiced their feelings +justly when, the true inwardness of this pleasant home bursting fully +upon them, she exclaimed: + +"Well, of all things! A man keeping house!" + +"Why not?" asked Dr. Hale with his dry smile. "Is there any +deficiency, mental or physical, about a man, to prevent his attempting +this abstruse art?" + +She looked at him sharply. "I don't know about deficiency, but there +seems to be somethin' about 'em that keeps 'em out of the business. I +guess it's because women are so cheap." + +"No doubt you are right, Mrs. Pettigrew. And here women are scarce and +high. Hence my poor efforts." + +His poor efforts had bought or built a roomy pleasant house, and +furnished it with a solid comfort and calm attractiveness that was +most satisfying. Two Chinamen did the work; cooking, cleaning, +washing, waiting on table, with silent efficiency. "They are as steady +as eight-day clocks," said Dr. Hale. "I pay them good wages and they +are worth it." + +"Sun here had to go home once--to be married, also, to see his honored +parents, I believe, and to leave a grand-'Sun' to attend to the +ancestors; but he brought in another Chink first and trained him so +well that I hardly noticed the difference. Came back in a year or so, +and resumed his place without a jar." + +Miss Elder watched with fascinated eyes these soft-footed servants +with clean, white garments and shiny coils of long, braided hair. + +"I may have to come to it," she admitted, "but--dear me, it doesn't +seem natural to have a man doing housework!" + +Dr. Hale smiled again. "You don't want men to escape from dependence, I +see. Perhaps, if more men knew how comfortably they could live without +women, the world would be happier." There was a faint wire-edge to his +tone, in spite of the courteous expression, but Miss Elder did not +notice it and if Mrs. Pettigrew did, she made no comment. + +They noted the varied excellences of his housekeeping with high +approval. + +"You certainly know how, Dr. Hale," said Miss Orella; "I particularly +admire these beds--with the sheets buttoned down, German fashion, +isn't it? What made you do that?" + +"I've slept so much in hotels," he answered; "and found the sheets +always inadequate to cover the blankets--and the marks of other men's +whiskers! I don't like blankets in my neck. Besides it saves washing." + +Mrs. Pettigrew nodded vehemently. "You have sense," she said. + +The labor-saving devices were a real surprise to them. A "chute" for +soiled clothing shot from the bathroom on each floor to the laundry in +the basement; a dumbwaiter of construction large and strong enough to +carry trunks, went from cellar to roof; the fireplaces dropped their +ashes down mysterious inner holes; and for the big one in the +living-room a special "lift" raised a box of wood up to the floor +level, hidden by one of the "settles." + +"Saves work--saves dirt--saves expense," said Dr. Hale. + +Miss Hale and her niece secretly thought the rooms rather bare, but +Dr. Bellair was highly in favor of that very feature. + +"You see Dick don't believe in jimcracks and dirt-catchers, and he +likes sunlight. Books all under glass--no curtains to wash and darn +and fuss with--none of those fancy pincushions and embroidered +thingummies--I quite envy him." + +"Why don't you have one yourself, Johnny?" he asked her. + +"Because I don't like housekeeping," she said, "and you do. Masculine +instinct, I suppose!" + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew with her sudden one-syllable chuckle. + +The girls followed from room to room, scarce noticing these comments, or +the eager politeness of the four pleasant-faced young fellows who formed +the doctor's present family. She could not but note the intelligent +efficiency of the place, but felt more deeply the underlying spirit, the +big-brotherly kindness which prompted his hospitable care of these nice +boys. It was delightful to hear them praise him. + +"O, he's simply great," whispered Archie Burns, a ruddy-cheeked young +Scotchman. "He pretends there's nothing to it--that he wants +company--that we pay for all we get--and that sort of thing, you know; +but this is no boarding house, I can tell you!" And then he flushed till +his very hair grew redder--remembering that the guests came from one. + +"Of course not!" Vivian cordially agreed with him. "You must have +lovely times here. I don't wonder you appreciate it!" and she smiled +so sweetly that he felt at ease again. + +Beneath all this cheery good will and the gay chatter of the group her +quick sense caught an impression of something hidden and repressed. +She felt the large and quiet beauty of the rooms; the smooth comfort, +the rational, pleasant life; but still more she felt a deep keynote of +loneliness. + +The pictures told her most. She noted one after another with inward +comment. + +"There's 'Persepolis,'" she said to herself--"loneliness incarnate; +and that other lion-and-ruin thing,--loneliness and decay. Gerome's +'Lion in the Desert,' too, the same thing. Then Daniel--more lions, +more loneliness, but power. 'Circe and the Companions of +Ulysses'--cruel, but loneliness and power again--of a sort. There's +that 'Island of Death' too--a beautiful thing--but O dear!--And young +Burne-Jones' 'Vampire' was in one of the bedrooms--that one he shut +the door of!" + +While they ate and drank in the long, low-ceiled wide-windowed room +below, she sought the bookcases and looked them over curiously. +Yes--there was Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, Plato, Emerson and +Carlisle--the great German philosophers, the French, the English--all +showing signs of use. + +Dr. Hale observed her inspection. It seemed to vaguely annoy him, as +if someone were asking too presuming questions. + +"Interested in philosophy, Miss Lane?" he asked, drily, coming toward +her. + +"Yes--so far as I understand it," she answered. + +"And how far does that go?" + +She felt the inference, and raised her soft eyes to his rather +reproachfully. + +"Not far, I am afraid. But I do know that these books teach one how to +bear trouble." + +He met her gaze steadily, but something seemed to shut, deep in his +eyes. They looked as unassailable as a steel safe. He straightened his +big shoulders with a defiant shrug, and returned to sit by Mrs. +Pettigrew, to whom he made himself most agreeable. + +The four young men did the honors of the tea table, with devotion to +all; and some especially intended for the younger ladies. Miss Elder +cried out in delight at the tea. + +"Where did you get it, Dr. Hale? Can it be had here?" + +"I'm afraid not. That is a particular brand. Sun brought me a chest of +it when he came from his visit." + +When they went home each lady was given a present, Chinese +fashion--lychee nuts for Sue, lily-bulbs for Vivian, a large fan for +Mrs. Pettigrew, and a package of the wonderful tea for Miss Orella. + +"That's a splendid thing for him to do," she said, as they walked +back. "Such a safe place for those boys!" + +"It's lovely of him," Sue agreed. "I don't care if he is a +woman-hater." + +Vivian said nothing, but admitted, on being questioned, that "he was +very interesting." + +Mrs. Pettigrew was delighted with their visit. "I like this country," +she declared. "Things are different. A man couldn't do that in +Bainville--he'd be talked out of town." + +That night she sought Dr. Bellair and questioned her. + +"Tell me about that man," she demanded. "How old is he?" + +"Not as old as he looks by ten years," said the doctor. "No, I can't +tell you why his hair's gray." + +"What woman upset him?" asked the old lady. + +Dr. Bellair regarded her thoughtfully. "He has made me no confidences, +Mrs. Pettigrew, but I think you are right. It must have been a severe +shock--for he is very bitter against women. It is a shame, too, for he +is one of the best of men. He prefers men patients--and gets them. The +women he will treat if he must, but he is kindest to the 'fallen' ones, +and inclined to sneer at the rest. And yet he's the straightest man I +ever knew. I'm thankful to have him come here so much. He needs it." + +Mrs. Pettigrew marched off, nodding sagely. She felt a large and growing +interest in her new surroundings, more especially in the numerous boys, +but was somewhat amazed at her popularity among them. These young men +were mainly exiles from home; the older ones, though more settled +perhaps, had been even longer away from their early surroundings; and a +real live Grandma, as Jimmy Saunders said, was an "attraction." + +"If you were mine," he told her laughingly, "I'd get a pianist and +some sort of little side show, and exhibit you all up and down the +mountains!--for good money. Why some of the boys never had a Grandma, +and those that did haven't seen one since they were kids!" + +"Very complimentary, I'm sure--but impracticable," said the old lady. + +The young men came to her with confidences, they asked her advice, +they kept her amused with tales of their adventures; some true, some +greatly diversified; and she listened with a shrewd little smile and a +wag of the head--so they never were quite sure whether they were +"fooling" Grandma or not. + +To her, as a general confidant, came Miss Peeder with a tale of woe. The +little hall that she rented for her dancing classes had burned down on a +windy Sunday, and there was no other suitable and within her means. + +"There's Sloan's; but it's over a barroom--it's really not possible. +And Baker's is too expensive. The church rooms they won't let for +dancing--I don't know what I _am_ to do, Mrs. Pettigrew!" + +"Why don't you ask Orella Elder to rent you her dining-room--it's big +enough. They could move the tables----" + +Miss Peeder's eyes opened in hopeful surprise. "Oh, if she _would_! Do +_you_ think she would? It would be ideal." + +Miss Elder being called upon, was quite fluttered by the proposition, +and consulted Dr. Bellair. + +"Why not?" said that lady. "Dancing is first rate exercise--good for +us all. Might as well have the girls dance here under your eye as +going out all the time--and it's some addition to the income. They'll +pay extra for refreshments, too. I'd do it." + +With considerable trepidation Miss Orella consented, and their first +"class night" was awaited by her in a state of suppressed excitement. + +To have music and dancing--"with refreshments"--twice a week--in her +own house--this seemed to her like a career of furious dissipation. + +Vivian, though with a subtle sense of withdrawal from a too general +intimacy, was inwardly rather pleased; and Susie bubbled over with +delight. + +"Oh what fun!" she cried. "I never had enough dancing! I don't believe +anybody has!" + +"We don't belong to the Class, you know," Vivian reminded her. + +"Oh yes! Miss Peeder says we must _all_ come--that she would feel _very_ +badly if we didn't; and the boarders have all joined--to a man!" + +Everyone seemed pleased except Mrs. Jeaune. Dancing she considered +immoral; music, almost as much so--and Miss Elder trembled lest she +lose her. But the offer of extra payments for herself and son on these +two nights each week proved sufficient to quell her scruples. + +Theophile doubled up the tables, set chairs around the walls, waxed the +floor, and was then sent to bed and locked in by his anxious mother. + +She labored, during the earlier hours of the evening, in the +preparation of sandwiches and coffee, cake and lemonade--which viands +were later shoved through the slide by the austere cook, and +distributed as from a counter by Miss Peeder's assistant. Mrs. Jeaune +would come no nearer, but peered darkly upon them through the +peep-hole in the swinging door. + +It was a very large room, due to the time when many "mealers" had been +accommodated. There were windows on each side, windows possessing the +unusual merit of opening from the top; wide double doors made the big +front hall a sort of anteroom, and the stairs and piazza furnished +opportunities for occasional couples who felt the wish for retirement. +In the right-angled passages, long hat-racks on either side were hung +with "Derbies," "Kossuths" and "Stetsons," and the ladies took off +their wraps, and added finishing touches to their toilettes in Miss +Elder's room. + +The house was full of stir and bustle, of pretty dresses, of giggles +and whispers, and the subdued exchange of comments among the +gentlemen. The men predominated, so that there was no lack of partners +for any of the ladies. + +Miss Orella accepted her new position with a half-terrified enjoyment. +Not in many years had she found herself so in demand. Her always neat +and appropriate costume had blossomed suddenly for the occasion; her +hair, arranged by the affectionate and admiring Susie, seemed softer +and more voluminous. Her eyes grew brilliant, and the delicate color +in her face warmed and deepened. + +Miss Peeder had installed a pianola to cover emergencies, but on this +opening evening she had both piano and violin--good, lively, +sole-stirring music. Everyone was on the floor, save a few gentlemen +who evidently wished they were. + +Sue danced with the gaiety and lightness of a kitten among wind-blown +leaves, Vivian with gliding grace, smooth and harmonious, Miss Orella +with skill and evident enjoyment, though still conscientious in every +accurate step. + +Presently Mrs. Pettigrew appeared, sedately glorious in black silk, +jet-beaded, and with much fine old lace. She bore in front of her a +small wicker rocking chair, and headed for a corner near the door. Her +burden was promptly taken from her by one of the latest comers, a tall +person with a most devoted manner. + +"Allow _me_, ma'am," he said, and placed the little chair at the point +she indicated. "No lady ought to rustle for rockin' chairs with so +many gentlemen present." + +He was a man of somewhat advanced age, but his hair was still more +black than white and had a curly, wiggish effect save as its +indigenous character was proven by three small bare patches of a +conspicuous nature. + +He bowed so low before her that she could not help observing these +distinctions, and then answered her startled look before she had time +to question him. + +"Yes'm," he explained, passing his hand over head; "scalped three +several times and left for dead. But I'm here yet. Mr. Elmer Skee, at +your service." + +"I thought when an Indian scalped you there wasn't enough hair left to +make Greeley whiskers," said Grandma, rising to the occasion. + +"Oh, no, ma'am, they ain't so efficacious as all that--not in these +parts. I don't know what the ancient Mohawks may have done, but the +Apaches only want a patch--smaller to carry and just as good to show +off. They're collectors, you know--like a phil-e-a-to-lol-o-gist!" + +"Skee, did you say?" pursued the old lady, regarding him with interest +and convinced that there was something wrong with the name of that +species of collector. + +"Yes'm. Skee--Elmer Skee. No'm, _not_ pronounced 'she.' Do I look like +it?" + +Mr. Skee was an interesting relic of that stormy past of the once Wild +West which has left so few surviving. He had crossed the plains as a +child, he told her, in the days of the prairie schooner, had then and +there lost his parents and his first bit of scalp, was picked up alive +by a party of "movers," and had grown up in a playground of sixteen +states and territories. + +Grandma gazed upon him fascinated. "I judge you might be interesting +to talk with," she said, after he had given her this brief sketch of +his youth. + +"Thank you, ma'am," said Mr. Skee. "May I have the pleasure of this +dance?" + +"I haven't danced in thirty years," said she, dubitating. + +"The more reason for doing it now," he calmly insisted. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and they forthwith executed a species +of march, the gentleman pacing with the elaborate grace of a circus +horse, and Grandma stepping at his side with great decorum. + +Later on, warming to the occasion, Mr. Skee frisked and high-stepped +with the youngest and gayest, and found the supper so wholly to his +liking that he promptly applied for a room, and as soon as one was +vacant it was given to him. + +Vivian danced to her heart's content and enjoyed the friendly +merriment about her; but when Fordham Greer took her out on the long +piazza to rest and breathe a little, she saw the dark bulk of the +house across the street and the office with its half-lit window, and +could not avoid thinking of the lonely man there. + +He had not come to the dance, no one expected that, of course; but all +his boys had come and were having the best of times. + +"It's his own fault, of course; but it's a shame," she thought. + +The music sounded gaily from within, and young Greer urged for another +dance. + +She stood there for a moment, hesitating, her hand on his arm, when a +tall figure came briskly up the street from the station, turned in at +their gate, came up the steps---- + +The girl gave a little cry, and shrank back for an instant, then +eagerly came forward and gave her hand to him. + +It was Morton. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +NEW FRIENDS AND OLD + + 'Twould be too bad to be true, my dear, + And wonders never cease; + Twould be too bad to be true, my dear, + If all one's swans were geese! + + +Vivian's startled cry of welcome was heard by Susie, perched on the +stairs with several eager youths gathered as close as might be about +her, and several pairs of hands helped her swift descent to greet her +brother. + +Miss Orella, dropping Mr. Dykeman's arm, came flying from the ball-room. + +"Oh, Morton! Morton! When did you come? Why didn't you let us know? +Oh, my _dear_ boy!" + +She haled him into their special parlor, took his hat away from him, +pulled out the most comfortable chair. + +"Have you had supper? And to think that we haven't a room for you! But +there's to be one vacant--next week. I'll see that there is. You +shall have my room, dear boy. Oh, I am so glad to see you!" + +Susie gave him a sisterly hug, while he kissed her, somewhat gingerly, +on the cheek, and then she perched herself on the arm of a chair and +gazed upon him with affectionate interest. Vivian gazed also, busily +engaged in fitting present facts to past memories. + +Surely he had not looked just like that! The Morton of her girlhood's +dream had a clear complexion, a bright eye, a brave and gallant +look--the voice only had not changed. + +But here was Morton in present fact, something taller, it seemed, and +a good deal heavier, well dressed in a rather vivid way, and making +merry over his aunt's devotion. + +"Well, if it doesn't seem like old times to have Aunt 'Rella running +'round like a hen with her head cut off, to wait on me." The simile +was not unjust, though certainly ungracious, but his aunt was far too +happy to resent it. + +"You sit right still!" she said. "I'll go and bring you some supper. +You must be hungry." + +"Now do sit down and hear to reason, Auntie!" he said, reaching out a +detaining hand and pulling her into a seat beside him. "I'm not hungry +a little bit; had a good feed on the diner. Never mind about the +room--I don't know how long I can stay--and I left my grip at the +Allen House anyway. How well you're looking, Auntie! I declare I'd +hardly have known you! And here's little Susie--a regular belle! And +Vivian--don't suppose I dare call you Vivian now, Miss Lane?" + +Vivian gave a little embarrassed laugh. If he had used her first name +she would never have noticed it. Now that he asked her, she hardly +knew what answer to make, but presently said: + +"Why, of course, I always call you Morton." + +"Well, I'll come when you call me," he cheerfully replied, leaning +forward, elbows on knees, and looking around the pretty room. + +"How well you're fixed here. Guess it was a wise move, Aunt 'Rella. +But I'd never have dreamed you'd do it. Your Dr. Bellair must have +been a powerful promoter to get you all out here. I wouldn't have +thought anybody in Bainville could move--but me. Why, there's Grandma, +as I live!" and he made a low bow. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, hearing of his arrival from the various would-be +partners of the two girls, had come to the door and stood there +regarding him with a non-committal expression. At this address she +frowned perceptibly. + +"My name is Mrs. Pettigrew, young man. I've known you since you were a +scallawag in short pants, but I'm no Grandma of yours." + +"A thousand pardons! Please excuse me, Mrs. Pettigrew," he said with +exaggerated politeness. "Won't you be seated?" And he set a chair for +her with a flourish. + +"Thanks, no," she said. "I'll go back," and went back forthwith, +attended by Mr. Skee. + +"One of these happy family reunions, ma'am?" he asked with approving +interest. "If there's one thing I do admire, it's a happy surprise." + +"'Tis some of a surprise," Mrs. Pettigrew admitted, and became rather +glum, in spite of Mr. Skee's undeniably entertaining conversation. + +"Some sort of a fandango going on?" Morton asked after a few rather +stiff moments. "Don't let me interrupt! On with the dance! Let joy be +unconfined! And if she must"--he looked at Vivian, and went on +somewhat lamely--"dance, why not dance with me? May I have the +pleasure, Miss Lane?" + +"Oh, no," cried Miss Orella, "we'd much rather be with you!" + +"But I'd rather dance than talk, any time," said he, and crooked his +elbow to Vivian with an impressive bow. + +Somewhat uncertain in her own mind, and unwilling to again disappoint +Fordham Greer, who had already lost one dance and was visibly waiting +for her in the hall, the girl hesitated; but Susie said, "Go on, give +him part of one. I'll tell Mr. Greer." So Vivian took Morton's +proffered arm and returned to the floor. + +She had never danced with him in the old days; no special memory was +here to contrast with the present; yet something seemed vaguely wrong. +He danced well, but more actively than she admired, and during the +rest of the evening devoted himself to the various ladies with an air +of long usage. + +She was glad when the dancing was over and he had finally departed for +his hotel, glad when Susie had at last ceased chattering and dropped +reluctantly to sleep. + +For a long time she lay awake trying to straighten out things in her +mind and account to herself for the sense of vague confusion which +oppressed her. + +Morton had come back! That was the prominent thing, of which she +repeatedly assured herself. How often she had looked forward to that +moment, and felt in anticipation a vivid joy. She had thought of it in +a hundred ways, always with pleasure, but never in this particular +way--among so many strangers. + +It must be that which confused her, she thought, for she was extremely +sensitive to the attitude of those about her. She felt an unspoken +criticism of Morton on the part of her new friends in the house, and +resented it; yet in her own mind a faint comparison would obtrude +itself between his manners and those of Jimmie Saunders or Mr. Greer, +for instance. The young Scotchman she had seen regarding Morton with +an undisguised dislike, and this she inwardly resented, even while +herself disliking his bearing to his aunt--and to her grandmother. + +It was all contradictory and unsatisfying, and she fell asleep saying +over to herself, "He has come back! He has come back!" and trying to +feel happy. + +Aunt Orella was happy at any rate. She would not rest until her +beloved nephew was installed in the house, practically turning out Mr. +Gibbs in order to accommodate him. Morton protested, talked of +business and of having to go away at any time; and Mr. Gibbs, who +still "mealed" with them, secretly wished he would. + +But Morton did not go away. It was a long time since he had been petted +and waited on, and he enjoyed it hugely, treating his aunt with a +serio-comic affection that was sometimes funny, sometimes disagreeable. + +At least Susie found it so. Her first surprise over, she fell back on +a fund of sound common sense, strengthened by present experience, and +found a good deal to criticise in her returned brother. She was so +young when he left, and he had teased her so unmercifully in those +days, that her early memories of him were rather mixed in sentiment, +and now he appeared, not as the unquestioned idol of a manless family +in a well-nigh manless town, but as one among many; and of those many +several were easily his superiors. + +He was her brother, and she loved him, of course; but there were so +many wanting to be "brothers" if not more, and they were so much more +polite! Morton petted, patronized and teased her, and she took it all +in good part, as after the manner of brothers, but his demeanor with +other people was not to her mind. + +His adoring aunt, finding no fault whatever with this well-loved nephew, +lavished upon him the affection of her unused motherhood, and he seemed +to find it a patent joke, open to everyone, that she should be so fond. + +To this and, indeed, to his general walk and conversation, Mrs. +Pettigrew took great exception. + +"Fine boy--Rella's nephew!" she said to Dr. Bellair late one night +when, seeing a light over her neighbor's transom, she dropped in for a +little chat. Conversation seemed easier for her here than in the +atmosphere of Bainville. + +"Fine boy--eh? Nice complexion!" + +Dr. Bellair was reading a heavy-weight book by a heavier-weight +specialist. She laid it down, took off her eyeglasses, and rubbed them. + +"Better not kiss him," she said. + +"I thought as much!" said Grandma. "I _thought_ as much! Huh!" + +"Nice world, isn't it?" the doctor suggested genially. + +"Nothing the matter with the world, that I know of," her visitor +answered. + +"Nice people, then--how's that?" + +"Nothing the matter with the people but foolishness--plain +foolishness. Good land! Shall we _never_ learn anything!" + +"Not till it's too late apparently," the doctor gloomily agreed, +turning slowly in her swivel chair. "That boy never was taught +anything to protect him. What did Rella know? Or for that matter, what +do any boys' fathers and mothers know? Nothing, you'd think. If they +do, they won't teach it to their children." + +"Time they did!" said the old lady decidedly. "High time they did! +It's never too late to learn. I've learned a lot out of you and your +books, Jane Bellair. Interesting reading! I don't suppose you could +give an absolute opinion now, could you?" + +"No," said Dr. Bellair gravely, "no, I couldn't; not yet, anyway." + +"Well, we've got to keep our eyes open," Mrs. Pettigrew concluded. +"When I think of that girl of mine----" + +"Yes--or any girl," the doctor added. + +"You look out for any girl--that's your business; I'll look out for +mine--if I can." + +Mrs. Pettigrew's were not the only eyes to scrutinize Morton Elder. +Through the peep-hole in the swing door to the kitchen, Jeanne Jeaune +watched him darkly with one hand on her lean chest. + +She kept her watch on whatever went on in that dining-room, and on the +two elderly waitresses whom she had helped Miss Elder to secure when +the house filled up. They were rather painfully unattractive, but +seemed likely to stay where no young and pretty damsel could be +counted on for a year. Morton joked with perseverance about their +looks, and those who were most devoted to Susie seemed to admire his +wit, while Vivian's special admirers found it pointless in the +extreme. + +"Your waitresses are the limit, Auntie," he said, "but the cook is all +to the good. Is she a plain cook or a handsome one?" + +"Handsome is as handsome does, young man," Mrs. Pettigrew pointedly +replied. "Mrs. Jones is a first-class cook and her looks are neither +here nor there." + +"You fill me with curiosity," he replied. "I must go out and make her +acquaintance. I always get solid with the cook; it's worth while." + +The face at the peep-hole darkened and turned away with a bitter and +determined look, and Master Theophile was hastened at his work till his +dim intelligence wondered, and then blessed with an unexpected cookie. + +Vivian, Morton watched and followed assiduously. She was much changed +from what he remembered--the young, frightened, slender girl he had +kissed under the lilac bushes, a kiss long since forgotten among many. + +Perhaps the very number of his subsequent acquaintances during a +varied and not markedly successful career in the newer states made +this type of New England womanhood more marked. Girls he had known of +various sorts, women old and young had been kind to him, for Morton +had the rough good looks and fluent manner which easily find their way +to the good will of many female hearts; but this gentle refinement of +manner and delicate beauty had a novel charm for him. + +Sitting by his aunt at meals he studied Vivian opposite, he watched +her in their few quiet evenings together, under the soft lamplight on +Miss Elder's beloved "center table;" and studied her continually in +the stimulating presence of many equally devoted men. + +All that was best in him was stirred by her quiet grace, her reserved +friendliness; and the spur of rivalry was by no means wanting. Both +the girls had their full share of masculine attention in that busy +houseful, each having her own particular devotees, and the position of +comforter to the others. + +Morton became openly devoted to Vivian, and followed her about, seeking +every occasion to be alone with her, a thing difficult to accomplish. + +"I don't ever get a chance to see anything of you," he said. "Come on, +take a walk with me--won't you?" + +"You can see me all day, practically," she answered. "It seems to me +that I never saw a man with so little to do." + +"Now that's too bad, Vivian! Just because a fellow's out of a job for +a while! It isn't the first time, either; in my business you work +like--like anything, part of the time, and then get laid off. I work +hard enough when I'm at it." + +"Do you like it--that kind of work?" the girl asked. + +They were sitting in the family parlor, but the big hall was as usual +well occupied, and some one or more of the boarders always eager to come +in. Miss Elder at this moment had departed for special conference with +her cook, and Susie was at the theatre with Jimmie Saunders. Fordham +Greer had asked Vivian, as had Morton also, but she declined both on the +ground that she didn't like that kind of play. Mrs. Pettigrew, being +joked too persistently about her fondness for "long whist," had retired +to her room--but then, her room was divided from the parlor only by a +thin partition and a door with a most inefficacious latch. + +"Come over here by the fire," said Morton, "and I'll tell you all +about it." + +He seated himself on a sofa, comfortably adjacent to the fireplace, +but Vivian preferred a low rocker. + +"I suppose you mean travelling--and selling goods?" he pursued. "Yes, +I like it. There's lots of change--and you meet people. I'd hate to be +shut up in an office." + +"But do you--get anywhere with it? Is there any outlook for you? +Anything worth doing?" + +"There's a good bit of money to be made, if you mean that; that is, if +a fellow's a good salesman. I'm no slouch myself, when I feel in the +mood. But it's easy come, easy go, you see. And it's uncertain. There +are times like this, with nothing doing." + +"I didn't mean money, altogether," said the girl meditatively, "but +the work itself; I don't see any future for you." + +Morton was pleased with her interest. Reaching between his knees he +seized the edge of the small sofa and dragged it a little nearer, +quite unconscious that the act was distasteful to her. + +Though twenty-five years old, Vivian was extremely young in many ways, +and her introspection had spent itself in tending the inner shrine of +his early image. That ikon was now jarringly displaced by this +insistent presence, and she could not satisfy herself yet as to +whether the change pleased or displeased her. Again and again his +manner antagonized her, but his visible devotion carried an undeniable +appeal, and his voice stirred the deep well of emotion in her heart. + +"Look here, Vivian," he said, "you've no idea how it goes through me +to have you speak like that! You see I've been knocking around here +for all this time, and I haven't had a soul to take an interest. A +fellow needs the society of good women--like you." + +It is an old appeal, and always reaches the mark. To any women it is a +compliment, and to a young girl, doubly alluring. As she looked at +him, the very things she most disliked, his too free manner, his +coarsened complexion, a certain look about the eyes, suddenly assumed +a new interest as proofs of his loneliness and lack of right +companionship. What Mrs. St. Cloud had told her of the ennobling +influence of a true woman, flashed upon her mind. + +"You see, I had no mother," he said simply--"and Aunt Rella spoiled +me--." He looked now like the boy she used to know. + +"Of course I ought to have behaved better," he admitted. "I was +ungrateful--I can see it now. But it did seem to me I couldn't stand +that town a day longer!" + +She could sympathize with this feeling and showed it. + +"Then when a fellow knocks around as I have so long, he gets to where +he doesn't care a hang for anything. Seeing you again makes a lot of +difference, Vivian. I think, perhaps--I could take a new start." + +"Oh do! Do!" she said eagerly. "You're young enough, Morton. You can +do anything if you'll make up your mind to it." + +"And you'll help me?" + +"Of course I'll help you--if I can," said she. + +A feeling of sincere remorse for wasted opportunities rose in the +young man's mind; also, in the presence of this pure-eyed girl, a +sense of shame for his previous habits. He walked to the window, his +hands in his pockets, and looked out blankly for a moment. + +"A fellow does a lot of things he shouldn't," he began, clearing his +throat; she met him more than half way with the overflowing generosity +of youth and ignorance: + +"Never mind what you've done, Morton--you're going to do differently +now! Susie'll be so proud of you--and Aunt Orella!" + +"And you?" He turned upon her suddenly. + +"Oh--I? Of course! I shall be very proud of my old friend." + +She met his eyes bravely, with a lovely look of hope and courage, and +again his heart smote him. + +"I hope you will," he said and straightened his broad shoulders +manfully. + +"Morton Elder!" cried his aunt, bustling in with deep concern in her +voice, "What's this I hear about you're having a sore throat?" + +"Nothing, I hope," said he cheerfully. + +"Now, Morton"--Vivian showed new solicitude--"you know you have got a +sore throat; Susie told me." + +"Well, I wish she'd hold her tongue," he protested. "It's nothing at +all--be all right in a jiffy. No, I won't take any of your fixings, +Auntie." + +"I want Dr. Bellair to look at it anyhow," said his aunt, anxiously. +"She'll know if it's diphtheritic or anything. She's coming in." + +"She can just go out again," he said with real annoyance. "If there's +anything I've no use for it's a woman doctor!" + +"Oh hush, hush!" cried Vivian, too late. + +"Don't apologize," said Dr. Bellair from her doorway. "I'm not in the +least offended. Indeed, I had rather surmised that that was your +attitude; I didn't come in to prescribe, but to find Mrs. Pettigrew." + +"Want me?" inquired the old lady from her doorway. "Who's got a sore +throat?" + +"Morton has," Vivian explained, "and he won't let Aunt Rella--why +where is she?" + +Miss Elder had gone out as suddenly as she had entered. + +"Camphor's good for sore throat," Mrs. Pettigrew volunteered. "Three +or four drops on a piece of sugar. Is it the swelled kind, or the kind +that smarts?" + +"Oh--Halifax!" exclaimed Morton, disgustedly. "It isn't _any_ kind. I +haven't a sore throat." + +"Camphor's good for cold sores; you have one of them anyhow," the old +lady persisted, producing a little bottle and urging it upon Morton. +"Just keep it wet with camphor as often as you think of it, and it'll +go away." + +Vivian looked on, interested and sympathetic, but Morton put his hand +to his lip and backed away. + +"If you ladies don't stop trying to doctor me, I'll clear out +to-morrow, so there!" + +This appalling threat was fortunately unheard by his aunt, who popped +in again at this moment, dragging Dr. Hale with her. Dr. Bellair +smiled quietly to herself. + +"I wouldn't tell him what I wanted him for, or he wouldn't have come, +I'm sure--doctors are so funny," said Miss Elder, breathlessly, "but +here he is. Now, Dr. Hale, here's a foolish boy who won't listen to +reason, and I'm real worried about him. I want you to look at his +throat." + +Dr. Hale glanced briefly at Morton's angry face. + +"The patient seems to be of age, Miss Elder; and, if you'll excuse me, +does not seem to have authorized this call." + +"My affectionate family are bound to have me an invalid," Morton +explained. "I'm in imminent danger of hot baths, cold presses, mustard +plasters, aconite, belladonna and quinine--and if I can once reach my +hat--" + +He sidled to the door and fled in mock terror. + +"Thank you for your good intentions, Miss Elder," Dr. Hale remarked +drily. "You can bring water to the horse, but you can't make him drink +it, you see." + +"Now that that young man has gone we might have a game of whist," Mrs. +Pettigrew suggested, looking not ill-pleased. + +"For which you do not need me in the least," and Dr. Hale was about to +leave, but Dr. Bellair stopped him. + +"Don't be an everlasting Winter woodchuck, Dick! Sit down and play; do +be good. I've got to see old Mrs. Graham yet; she refuses to go to +sleep without it--knowing I'm so near. By by." + +Mrs. Pettigrew insisted on playing with Miss Elder, so Vivian had the +questionable pleasure of Dr. Hale as a partner. He was an expert, used +to frequent and scientific play, and by no means patient with the +girl's mistakes. + +He made no protest at a lost trick, but explained briefly between +hands what she should have remembered and how the cards lay, till she +grew quite discouraged. + +Her game was but mediocre, played only to oblige; and she never could +see why people cared so much about a mere pastime. Pride came to her +rescue at last; the more he criticised, the more determined she grew +to profit by all this advice; but her mind would wander now and then +to Morton, to his young life so largely wasted, it appeared, and to +what hope might lie before him. Could she be the help and stimulus he +seemed to think? How much did he mean by asking her to help him? + +"Why waste a thirteenth trump on your partner's thirteenth card?" Dr. +Hale was asking. + +She flushed a deep rose color and lifted appealing eyes to him. + +"Do forgive me; my mind was elsewhere." + +"Will you not invite it to return?" he suggested drily. + +He excused himself after a few games, and the girl at last was glad to +have him go. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, sitting unaccountably late at her front window, +watched the light burn steadily in the small office at the opposite +corner. Presently she saw a familiar figure slip in there, and, after +a considerable stay, come out quietly, cross the street, and let +himself in at their door. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +SIDE LIGHTS. + + High shines the golden shield in front, + To those who are not blind; + And clear and bright + In all men's sight, + The silver shield behind. + + In breadth and sheen each face is seen; + How tall it is, how wide; + But its thinness shows + To only those + Who stand on either side. + + +Theophile wept aloud in the dining-room, nursing one hand in the +other, like a hurt monkey. + +Most of the diners had departed, but Professor Toomey and Mr. Cuthbert +still lingered about Miss Susie's corner, to the evident displeasure +of Mr. Saunders, who lingered also. + +Miss Susie smiled upon them all; and Mr. Saunders speculated endlessly +as to whether this was due to her general friendliness of disposition, +to an interest in pleasing her aunt's boarders, to personal preference, +or, as he sometimes imagined, to a desire to tease him. + +Morton was talking earnestly with Vivian at the other end of the +table, from which the two angular waitresses had some time since +removed the last plate. One of them opened the swing door a crack and +thrust her head in. + +"He's burnt his hand," she said, "and his Ma's out. We don't dare go +near him." Both of these damsels professed great terror of the poor +boy, though he was invariably good natured, and as timid as a rabbit. + +"Do get the doctor!" cried Susie, nervously; she never felt at ease +with Theophile. + +"Dr. Bellair, I fear, is not in her office," Professor Toomey +announced. "We might summon Dr. Hale." + +"Nonsense!" said Mr. Cuthbert, rising heavily. "He's a great baby, +that's all. Here! Quit that howling and show me your hand!" + +He advanced upon Theophile, who fled toward Vivian. Morton rose in her +defence. "Get out!" he said, "Go back to the kitchen. There's nothing +the matter with you." + +"Wait till you get burned, and see if you think it's nothing," Jimmy +Saunders remarked with some acidity. He did not like Mr. Elder. "Come +here youngster, let me see it." + +But the boy was afraid of all of them, and cowered in a corner, still +bawling. "Stop your noise," Mr. Cuthbert shouted, "Get out of this, or +I'll put you out." + +Vivian rose to her feet. "You will do nothing of the kind. If you, all +of you, will go away, I can quiet Theophile, myself." + +Susie went promptly. She had every confidence in her friend's +management. Mr. Cuthbert was sulky, but followed Susie; and Mr. +Saunders, after some hesitation, followed Susie, too. + +Morton lingered, distrustful. + +"Please go, Morton. I know how to manage him. Just leave us alone," +Vivian urged. + +"You'd better let me put him out, and keep him out, till the old woman +comes back," Morton insisted. + +"You mean kindly, I don't doubt, but you're making me very angry," +said the girl, flushing; and he reluctantly left the room. Professor +Toomey had departed long since, to fulfill his suggestion of calling +Dr. Hale, but when that gentleman appeared, he found that Vivian had +quieted the boy, stayed him with flagons and comforted him with +apples, as it were, and bound up his hand in wet cooking soda. + +"It's not a very bad burn," she told the doctor, "but it hurt, and he +was frightened. He is afraid of everybody but his mother, and the men +were cross to him." + +"I see," said Dr. Hale, watching Theophile as he munched his apple, +keeping carefully behind Vivian and very near her. "He does not seem +much afraid of you, I notice, and he's used to me. The soda is all +right. Where did you learn first aid to the injured, and how to +handle--persons of limited understanding?" + +"The former I studied. The latter comes by nature, I think," replied +the girl, annoyed. + +He laughed, rather suddenly. "It's a good quality, often needed in +this world." + +"What's all this rumpus?" demanded Grandma, appearing at the door. +"Waking me up out of my nap!" Grandma's smooth, fine, still dark hair, +which she wore in "water waves," was somewhat disarranged, and she +held a little shawl about her. + +"Only the household baby, playing with fire," Dr. Hale answered. "Miss +Lane resolved herself into a Red Cross society, and attended to the +wounded. However I think I'll have a look at it now I'm here." + +Then was Vivian surprised, and compelled to admiration, to see with +what wise gentleness the big man won the confidence of the frightened +boy, examined the hurt hand, and bound it up again. + +"You'll do, all right, won't you Theophile," he said, and offered him +a shining nickel and a lozenge, "Which will you have, old man?" + +After some cautious hesitation the boy chose the lozenge, and hastily +applied it where it would do the most good. + +"Where's Mrs. Jones all this time?" suddenly demanded Grandma, who had +gone back to her room and fetched forth three fat, pink gumdrops for +the further consolation of the afflicted. + +"She had to go out to buy clothes for him, she hardly ever leaves him +you know," Vivian explained. "And the girls out there are so afraid +that they won't take any care of him." + +This was true enough, but Vivian did not know that "Mrs. Jones" had +returned and, peering through her favorite peephole, had seen her send +out the others, and attend to the boy's burn with her own hand. Jeanne +Jeaune was not a sentimental person, and judged from her son's easy +consolation that he was little hurt, but she watched the girl's prompt +tenderness with tears in her eyes. + +"She regards him, as any other boy;" thought the mother. "His +infirmity, she does not recall it." Dr. Hale had long since won her +approval, and when Theophile at last ran out, eager to share his +gumdrops, he found her busy as usual in the kitchen. + +She was a silent woman, professionally civil to the waitresses, but +never cordial. The place pleased her, she was saving money, and she +knew that there must be _some_ waitresses--these were probably no +worse than others. For her unfortunate son she expected little, and +strove to keep him near her so far as possible; but Vivian's real +kindness touched her deeply. + +She kept a sharp eye on whatever went on in the dining-room, and what +with the frequent dances and the little groups which used to hang +about the table after meals, or fill a corner of the big room for +quiet chats, she had good opportunities. + +Morton's visible devotion she watched with deep disapproval; though +she was not at all certain that her "young lady" was favorably +disposed toward him. She could see and judge the feelings of the men, +these many men who ate and drank and laughed and paid court to both +the girls. Dr. Hale's brusque coldness she accepted, as from a higher +order of being. Susie's gay coquetries were transparent to her; but +Vivian she could not read so well. + +The girl's deep conscientiousness, her courtesy and patience with all, +and the gentle way in which she evaded the attentions so persistently +offered, were new to Jeanne's experience. When Morton hung about and +tried always to talk with Vivian exclusively, she saw her listen with +kind attention, but somehow without any of that answering gleam which +made Susie's blue eyes so irresistible. + +"She has the lovers, but she has _no_ beauty--to compare with my young +lady!" Jeanne commented inwardly. + +If the sad-eyed Jeanne had been of Scotch extraction instead of +French, she might have quoted the explanation of the homely widow of +three husbands when questioned by the good-looking spinster, who +closed her inquiry by saying aggrievedly, "And ye'r na sae bonny." + +"It's na the bonny that does it," explained the triple widow, "It's +the come hither i' the een." + +Susie's eyes sparkled with the "come hither," but those who came +failed to make any marked progress. She was somewhat more cautious +after the sudden approach and overthrow of Mr. A. Smith; yet more than +one young gentleman boarder found business called him elsewhere, with +marked suddenness; his place eagerly taken by another. The Cottonwoods +had a waiting list, now. + +Vivian made friends first, lovers afterward. Then if the love proved +vain, the friendship had a way of lingering. Hers was one of those +involved and over-conscientious characters, keenly sensitive to the +thought of duty and to others, pain. She could not play with hearts +that might be hurt in the handling, nor could she find in herself a +quick and simple response to the appeals made to her; there were so +many things to be considered. + +Morton studied her with more intensity than he had ever before devoted +to another human being; his admiration and respect grew with +acquaintance, and all that was best in him rose in response to her +wise, sweet womanliness. He had the background of their childhood's +common experiences and her early sentiment--how much he did not know, +to aid him. Then there was the unknown country of his years of +changeful travel, many tales that he could tell her, many more which +he found he could not. + +He pressed his advantage, cautiously, finding the fullest response +when he used the appeal to her uplifting influence. When they talked +in the dining-room the sombre eye at the peephole watched with growing +disapproval. The kitchen was largely left to her and her son by her +fellow workers, on account of their nervous dislike for Theophile, and +she utilized her opportunities. + +Vivian had provided the boy with some big bright picture blocks, and +he spent happy hours in matching them on the white scoured table, +while his mother sewed, and watched. He had forgotten his burn by now, +and she sewed contentedly for there was no one talking to her young +lady but Dr. Hale, who lingered unaccountably. + +To be sure, Vivian had brought him a plate of cakes from the pantry, +and he seemed to find the little brown things efficiently seductive, +or perhaps it was Grandma who held him, sitting bolt upright in her +usual place, at the head of one table, and asking a series of firm but +friendly questions. This she found the only way of inducing Dr. Hale +to talk at all. + +Yes, he was going away--Yes, he would be gone some time--A matter of +weeks, perhaps--He could not say--His boys were all well--He did not +wonder that they saw a good deal of them--It was a good place for them +to come. + +"You might come oftener yourself," said Grandma, "and play real whist +with me. These young people play _Bridge_!" She used this word with +angry scorn, as symbol of all degeneracy; and also despised pinochle, +refusing to learn it, though any one could induce her to play bezique. +Some of the more venturous and argumentative, strove to persuade her +that the games were really the same. + +"You needn't tell me," Mrs. Pettigrew would say, "I don't want to play +any of your foreign games." + +"But, Madam, bezique is not an English word," Professor Toomey had +insisted, on one occasion; to which she had promptly responded, +"Neither is 'bouquet!'" + +Dr. Hale shook his head with a smile. He had a very nice smile, even +Vivian admitted that. All the hard lines of his face curved and +melted, and the light came into those deep-set eyes and shone warmly. + +"I should enjoy playing whist with you very often, Mrs. Pettigrew; but +a doctor has no time to call his own. And a good game of whist must +not be interrupted by telephones." + +"There's Miss Orella!" said Grandma, as the front door was heard to +open. "She's getting to be quite a gadder." + +"It does her good, I don't doubt," the doctor gravely remarked, rising +to go. Miss Orella met him in the hall, and bade him good-bye with +regret. "We do not see much of you, doctor; I hope you'll be back soon." + +"Why it's only a little trip; you good people act as if I were going +to Alaska," he said, "It makes me feel as if I had a family!" + +"Pity you haven't," remarked Grandma with her usual definiteness. +Dykeman stood holding Miss Orella's wrap, with his dry smile. "Good-bye, +Hale," he said. "I'll chaperon your orphan asylum for you. So long." + +"Come out into the dining-room," said Miss Orella, after Dr. Hale had +departed. "I know you must be hungry," and Mr. Dykeman did not deny it. +In his quiet middle-aged way, he enjoyed this enlarged family circle as +much as the younger fellows, and he and Mr. Unwin seemed to vie with one +another to convince Miss Orella that life still held charms for her. Mr. +Skee also hovered about her to a considerable extent, but most of his +devotion was bestowed upon damsels of extreme youth. + +"Here's one that's hungry, anyhow," remarked Dr. Bellair, coming out +of her office at the moment, with her usual clean and clear-starched +appearance. "I've been at it for eighteen hours, with only bites to +eat. Yes, all over; both doing well." + +It was a source of deep self-congratulation to Dr. Bellair to watch +her friend grow young again in the new atmosphere. To Susie it +appeared somewhat preposterous, as her Aunt seems to her mind a +permanently elderly person; while to Mrs. Pettigrew it looked only +natural. "Rella's only a young thing anyway," was her comment. But +Jane Bellair marked and approved the added grace of each new gown, the +blossoming of lace and ribbon, the appearance of long-hoarded bits of +family jewelry, things held "too showy to wear" in Bainville, but +somehow quite appropriate here. + +Vivian and Grandma made Miss Orella sit down at her own table head, +and bustled about in the pantry, bringing cheese and crackers, cake +and fruit; but the doctor poked her head through the swing door and +demanded meat. + +"I don't want a refection, I want food," she said, and Jeanne +cheerfully brought her a plate of cold beef. She was much attached to +Dr. Bellair, for reasons many and good. + +"What I like about this place," said Mrs. Pettigrew, surveying the +scene from the head of her table, "is that there's always something +going on." + +"What I like about it," remarked Dr. Bellair, between +well-Fletcherized mouthfuls, "is that people have a chance to grow and +are growing." + +"What I like," Mr. Dykeman looked about him, and paused in the middle +of a sentence, as was his wont; "is being beautifully taken care of +and made comfortable--any man likes that." + +Miss Orella beamed upon him. Emboldened, he went on: "And what I like +most is the new, delightful"--he was gazing admiringly at her, and she +looked so embarrassed that he concluded with a wide margin of +safety--"friends I'm making." + +Miss Orella's rosy flush, which had risen under his steady gaze, ebbed +again to her usual soft pink. Even her coldest critics, in the most +caustic Bainvillian circles, could never deny that she had "a good +complexion." New England, like old England, loves roses on the cheeks, +and our dry Western winds play havoc with them. But Miss Orella's +bloomed brighter than at home. + +"It is pleasant," she said softly; "all this coming and going--and the +nice people--who stay." She looked at no one in particular, yet Mr. +Dykeman seemed pleased. + +"There's another coming, I guess," remarked Grandma, as a carriage was +heard to stop outside, the gate slammed, and trunk-burdened steps +pounded heavily across the piazza. The bell rang sharply, Mr. Dykeman +opened the door, and the trunk came in first--a huge one, dumped +promptly on the hall floor. + +Behind the trunk and the man beneath it entered a lady; slim, elegant, +graceful, in a rich silk dust coat and soft floating veils. + +"My dear Miss Elder!" she said, coming forward; "and Vivian! Dear +Vivian! I thought you could put me up, somewhere, and told him to come +right here. O--and please--I haven't a bit of change left in my +purse--will you pay the man?" + +"Well, if it isn't Mrs. St. Cloud," said Grandma, without any note of +welcome in her voice. + +Mr. Dykeman paid the man; looked at the trunk, and paid him some more. +The man departed swearing softly at nothing in particular, and Mr. +Dykeman departed also to his own room. + +Miss Orella's hospitable soul was much exercised. Refuse shelter to an +old acquaintance, a guest, however unexpected, she could not; yet she +had no vacant room. Vivian, flushed and excited, moved anew by her +old attraction, eagerly helped the visitor take off her wraps, Mrs. +Pettigrew standing the while, with her arms folded, in the doorway of +her room, her thin lips drawn to a hard line, as one intending to +repel boarders at any risk to life or limb. Dr. Bellair had returned +to her apartments at the first sound of the visitor's voice. + +She, gracious and calm in the midst of confusion, sat in a wreath of +down-dropped silken wrappings, and held Vivian's hand. + +"You dear child!" she said, "how well you look! What a charming place +this is. The doctors sent me West for my health; I'm on my way to +California. But when I found the train stopped here--I didn't know +that it did till I saw the name--I had them take my trunk right off, +and here I am! It is such a pleasure to see you all." + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew, and disappeared completely, closing the +door behind her. + +"Anything will do, Miss Elder," the visitor went on. "I shall find a +hall bedroom palatial after a sleeping car; or a garret--anything! +It's only for a few days, you know." + +Vivian was restraining herself from hospitable offers by remembering +that her room was also Susie's, and Miss Orella well knew that to give +up hers meant sleeping on a hard, short sofa in that all-too-public +parlor. She was hastily planning in her mind to take Susie in with her +and persuade Mrs. Pettigrew to harbor Vivian, somewhat deterred by +memories of the old lady's expression as she departed, when Mr. +Dykeman appeared at the door, suitcase in hand. + +"I promised Hale I'd keep house for those fatherless boys, you know," +he said. "In the meantime, you're quite welcome to use my room, Miss +Elder." And he departed, her blessing going with him. + +More light refreshments were now in order. Mrs. St. Cloud protesting +that she wanted nothing, but finding much to praise in the delicacies +set before her. Several of the other boarders drifted in, always glad +of an extra bite before going to bed. Susie and Mr. Saunders returned +from a walk, Morton reappeared, and Jeanne, peering sharply in, +resentful of this new drain upon her pantry shelves, saw a fair, +sweet-faced woman, seated at ease, eating daintily, while Miss Elder +and Vivian waited upon her, and the men all gathered admiringly about. +Jeanne Jeaune wagged her head. "Ah, ha, Madame!" she muttered softly, +"Such as you I have met before!" Theophile she had long since sent to +bed, remaining up herself to keep an eye on the continued disturbance +in the front of the house. Vivian and Susie brought the dishes out, +and would have washed them or left them till morning for the maids. + +"Truly, no," said Jeanne Jeaune; "go you to your beds; I will attend +to these." + +One by one she heard them go upstairs, distant movement and soft +dissuasion as two gentlemen insisted on bearing Mrs. St. Cloud's trunk +into her room, receding voices and closing doors. There was no sound +in the dining-room now, but still she waited; the night was not yet +quiet. + +Miss Elder and Susie, Vivian also, hovered about, trying to make this +new guest comfortable, in spite of her graceful protests that they +must not concern themselves in the least about her, that she wanted +nothing--absolutely nothing. At last they left her, and still later, +after some brief exchange of surprised comment and warm appreciation +of Mr. Dykeman's thoughtfulness, the family retired. Vivian, when her +long hair was smoothly braided for the night, felt an imperative need +for water. + +"Don't you want some, Susie? I'll bring you a glass." But Susie only +huddled the bedclothes about her pretty shoulders and said: + +"Don't bring me _anything_, until to-morrow morning!" + +So her room-mate stole out softly in her wrapper, remembering that a +pitcher of cool water still stood on one of the tables. The windows to +the street let in a flood of light from a big street lamp, and she +found her way easily, but was a bit startled for a moment to find a +man still sitting there, his head upon his arms. + +"Why, Morton," she said; "is that you? What are you sitting up for? +It's awfully late. I'm just after some water." She poured a glassful. +"Don't you want some?" + +"No, thank you," he said. "Yes, I will. Give me some, please." + +The girl gave him a glass, drank from her own and set it down, turning +to go, but he reached out and caught a flowing sleeve of her kimono. + +"Don't go, Vivian! Do sit down and talk to a fellow. I've been trying +to see you for days and days." + +"Why, Morton Elder, how absurd! You have certainly seen me every day, +and we've talked hours this very evening. This is no time for +conversation, surely." + +"The best time in the world," he assured her. "All the other times there +are people about--dozens--hundreds--swarms! I want to talk to just you." + +There were certainly no dozens or hundreds about now, but as certainly +there was one, noting with keen and disapproving interest this +midnight tete-a-tete. It did not last very long, and was harmless and +impersonal enough while it lasted. + +Vivian sat for a few moments, listening patiently while the young man +talked of his discouragements, his hopes, his wishes to succeed in +life, to be worthy of her; but when the personal note sounded, when he +tried to take her hand in the semi-darkness, then her New England +conscience sounded also, and she rose to her feet and left him. + +"We'll talk about that another time," she said. "Now do be quiet and +do not wake people up." + +He stole upstairs, dutifully, and she crept softly back to her room +and got into bed, without eliciting more than a mild grunt from sleepy +Susie. Silence reigned at last in the house. Not for long, however. + +At about half past twelve Dr. Bellair was roused from a well-earned +sleep by a light, insistent tap upon her door. She listened, +believing it to be a wind-stirred twig; but no, it was a finger +tap--quiet--repeated. She opened the door upon Jeanne in her +stocking feet. + +"Your pardon, Mrs. Doctor," said the visitor, "but it is of importance. +May I speak for a little? No, I'm not ill, and we need not a light." + +They sat in the clean little office, the swaying cottonwood boughs +making a changeful pattern on the floor. + +"You are a doctor, and you can make an end to it--you must make an end +to it," said Jeanne, after a little hesitation. "This young man--this +nephew--he must not marry my young lady." + +"What makes you think he wants to?" asked the doctor. + +"I have seen, I have heard--I know," said Jeanne. "You know, all can +see that he loves her. _He!_ Not such as he for my young lady." + +"Why do you object to him, Jeanne?" + +"He has lived the bad life," said the woman, grimly. + +"Most young men are open to criticism," said Dr. Bellair. "Have you +anything definite to tell me--anything that you could _prove_?--if it +were necessary to save her?" She leaned forward, elbows on knees. + +Jeanne sat in the flickering shadows, considering her words. "He has +had the sickness," she said at last. + +"Can you prove that?" + +"I can prove to you, a doctor, that Coralie and Anastasia and +Estelle--they have had it. They are still alive; but not so beautiful." + +"Yes; but how can you prove it on him?" + +"I know he was with them. Well, it was no secret. I myself have +seen--he was there often." + +"How on earth have you managed not to be recognized?" Dr. Bellair +inquired after a few moments. + +Jeanne laughed bitterly. "That was eight years ago; he was but a +boy--gay and foolish, with the others. What does a boy know?... Also, +at that time I was blonde, and--of a difference." + +"I see," said the doctor, "I see! That's pretty straight. You know +personally of that time, and you know the record of those others. But +that was a long time ago." + +"I have heard of him since, many times, in such company," said Jeanne. +They sat in silence for some time. A distant church clock struck a +single deep low note. The woman rose, stood for a hushed moment, +suddenly burst forth with hushed intensity: "You must save her, +doctor--you will! I was young once," she went on. "I did not know--as +she does not. I married, and--_that_ came to me! It made me a devil--for +awhile. Tell her, doctor--if you must; tell her about my boy!" + +She went away, weeping silently, and Dr. Bellair sat sternly thinking +in her chair, and fell asleep in it from utter weariness. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A MIXTURE. + + In poetry and painting and fiction we see + Such praise for the Dawn of the Day, + We've long since been convinced that a sunrise must be + All Glorious and Golden and Gay. + + But we find there are mornings quite foggy and drear, + With the clouds in a low-hanging pall; + Till the grey light of daylight can hardly make clear + That the sun has arisen at all. + + +Dr. Richard Hale left his brood of temporary orphans without really +expecting for them any particular oversight from Andrew Dykeman; but +the two were sufficiently close friends to well warrant the latter in +moving over to The Monastery--as Jimmie Saunders called it. + +Mr. Dykeman was sufficiently popular with the young men to be welcome, +even if he had not had a good excuse, and when they found how +super-excellent his excuse was they wholly approved. + +To accommodate Miss Orella was something--all the boys liked Miss +Orella. They speculated among themselves on her increasing youth and +good looks, and even exchanged sagacious theories as to the particular +acting cause. But when they found that Mr. Dykeman's visit was to make +room for the installation of Mrs. St. Cloud, they were more than +pleased. + +All the unexpressed ideals of masculine youth seemed centered in this +palely graceful lady; the low, sweet voice, the delicate hands, the +subtle sympathy of manner, the nameless, quiet charm of dress. + +Young Burns became her slave on sight, Lawson and Peters fell on the +second day; not one held out beyond the third. Even Susie's +attractions paled, her very youth became a disadvantage; she lacked +that large considering tenderness. + +"Fact is," Mr. Peters informed his friends rather suddenly, "young +women are selfish. Naturally, of course. It takes some experience +to--well, to understand a fellow." They all agreed with him. + +Mr. Dykeman, quiet and reserved as always, was gravely polite to the +newcomer, and Mr. Skee revolved at a distance, making observations. +Occasionally he paid some court to her, at which times she was cold to +him; and again he devoted himself to the other ladies with his +impressive air, as of one bowing low and sweeping the floor with a +plumed hat. + +Mr. Skee's Stetson had, as a matter of fact, no sign of plumage, and +his bows were of a somewhat jerky order; but his gallantry was +sweeping and impressive, none the less. If he remained too far away +Mrs. St. Cloud would draw him to her circle, which consisted of all +the other gentlemen. + +There were two exceptions. Mr. James Saunders had reached the stage +where any woman besides Susie was but a skirted ghost, and Morton was by +this time so deeply devoted to Vivian that he probably would not have +wavered even if left alone. He was not wholly a free agent, however. + +Adela St. Cloud had reached an age when something must be done. Her +mysterious absent husband had mysteriously and absently died, and +still she never breathed a word against him. But the Bible Class in +Bainville furnished no satisfactory material for further hopes, the +place of her earlier dwelling seemed not wholly desirable now, and the +West had called her. + +Finding herself comfortably placed in Mr. Dykeman's room, and judging +from the number of his shoe-trees and the quality of his remaining +toilet articles that he might be considered "suitable," she decided to +remain in the half-way house for a season. So settled, why, for a +thousand reasons one must keep one's hand in. + +There were men in plenty, from twenty year old Archie to the uncertain +decades of Mr. Skee. Idly amusing herself, she questioned that +gentleman indirectly as to his age, drawing from him astounding +memories of the previous century. + +When confronted with historic proof that the events he described were +over a hundred years passed, he would apologize, admitting that he had +no memory for dates. She owned one day, with gentle candor, to being +thirty-three. + +"That must seem quite old to a man like you, Mr. Skee. I feel very +old sometimes!" She lifted large eyes to him, and drew her filmy scarf +around her shoulders. + +"Your memory must be worse than mine, ma'am," he replied, "and work +the same way. You've sure got ten or twenty years added on +superfluous! Now me!" He shook his head; "I don't remember when I was +born at all. And losin' my folks so young, _and_ the family Bible--I +don't expect I ever shall. But I 'low I'm all of ninety-seven." + +This being palpably impossible, and as the only local incidents he +could recall in his youth were quite dateless adventures among the +Indians, she gave it up. Why Mr. Skee should have interested her at +all was difficult to say, unless it was the appeal to his +uncertainty--he was at least a game fish, if not edible. + +Of the women she met, Susie and Vivian were far the most attractive, +wherefore Mrs. St. Cloud, with subtle sympathy and engaging frankness, +fairly cast Mr. Saunders in Susie's arms, and vice versa, as +opportunity occurred. + +Morton she rather snubbed, treated him as a mere boy, told tales of his +childhood that were in no way complimentary--so that he fled from her. + +With Vivian she renewed her earlier influence to a great degree. + +With some inquiry and more intuition she discovered what it was that +had chilled the girl's affection for her. + +"I don't wonder, my dear child," she said; "I never told you of +that--I never speak of it to anyone.... It was one of the--" she +shivered slightly--"darkest griefs of a very dark time.... He was a +beautiful boy.... I never _dreamed_----" + +The slow tears rose in her beautiful eyes till they shone like +shimmering stars. + +"Heaven send no such tragedy may ever come into your life, dear!" + +She reached a tender hand to clasp the girl's. "I am so glad of your +happiness!" + +Vivian was silent. As a matter of fact, she was not happy enough to +honestly accept sympathy. Mrs. St. Cloud mistook her attitude, or +seemed to. + +"I suppose you still blame me. Many people did. I often blame myself. +One cannot be _too_ careful. It's a terrible responsibility, +Vivian--to have a man love you." + +The girl's face grew even more somber. That was one thing which was +troubling her. + +"But your life is all before you," pursued the older woman. "Your +dream has come true! How happy--how wonderfully happy you must be!" + +"I am not, not _really_," said the girl. "At least----" + +"I know--I know; I understand," Mrs. St. Cloud nodded with tender +wisdom. "You are not sure. Is not that it?" + +That was distinctly "it," and Vivian so agreed. + +"There is no other man?" + +"Not the shadow of one!" said the girl firmly. And as her questioner +had studied the field and made up her mind to the same end, she +believed her. + +"Then you must not mind this sense of uncertainty. It always happens. +It is part of the morning clouds of maidenhood, my dear--it vanishes +with the sunrise!" And she smiled beatifically. + +Then the girl unburdened herself of her perplexities. She could +always express herself so easily to this sympathetic friend. + +"There are so many things that I--dislike--about him," she said. +"Habits of speech--of manners. He is not--not what I----" + +She paused. + +"Not all the Dream! Ah! My dear child, they never are! We are given +these beautiful ideals to guard and guide us; but the real is never +quite the same. But when a man's soul opens to you--when he loves--these +small things vanish. They can be changed--you will change them." + +"Yes--he says so," Vivian admitted. "He says that he knows that he +is--unworthy--and has done wrong things. But so have I, for that +matter." + +Mrs. St. Cloud agreed with her. "I am glad you feel that, my dear. Men +have their temptations--their vices--and we good women are apt to be +hard on them. But have we no faults? Ah, my dear, I have seen good +women--young girls, like yourself--ruin a man's whole life by--well, +by heartlessness; by lack of understanding. Most young men do things +they become ashamed of when they really love. And in the case of a +motherless boy like this--lonely, away from his home, no good woman's +influence about--what else could we expect? But you can make a new man +of him. A glorious work!" + +"That's what he says. I'm not so sure--" The girl hesitated. + +"Not sure you can? Oh, my child, it is the most beautiful work on +earth! To see from year to year a strong, noble character grow under +your helping hand! To be the guiding star, the inspiration of a man's +life. To live to hear him say: + + "'Ah, who am I that God should bow + From heaven to choose a wife for me? + What have I done He should endow + My home with thee?'" + +There was a silence. + +Vivian's dark eyes shone with appreciation for the tender beauty of +the lines, the lovely thought. Then she arose and walked nervously +across the floor, returning presently. + +"Mrs. St. Cloud----" + +"Call me Adela, my dear." + +"Adela--dear Adela--you--you have been married. I have no mother. Tell +me, ought not there to be more--more love? I'm fond of Morton, of +course, and I do want to help him--but surely, if I loved him--I +should feel happier--more sure!" + +"The first part of love is often very confusing, my dear. I'll tell +you how it is: just because you are a woman grown and feel your +responsibilities, especially here, where you have so many men friends, +you keep Morton at a distance. Then the external sort of cousinly +affection you have for him rather blinds you to other feelings. But I +have not forgotten--and I'm sure you have not--the memory of that hot, +sweet night so long ago; the world swimming in summer moonlight and +syringa sweetness; the stillness everywhere--and your first kiss!" + +Vivian started to her feet. She moved to the window and stood awhile; +came back and kissed her friend warmly, and went away without another +word. + +The lady betook herself to her toilet, and spent some time on it, for +there was one of Miss Peeder's classes that night. + +Mrs. St. Cloud danced with many, but most with Mr. Dykeman; no woman +in the room had her swimming grace of motion, and yet, with all the +throng of partners about her she had time to see Susie's bright head +bobbing about beneath Mr. Saunders down-bent, happy face, and Vivian, +with her eyes cast down, dancing with Morton, whose gaze never left +her. He was attention itself, he brought her precisely the supper she +liked, found her favorite corner to rest in, took her to sit on the +broad piazza between dances, remained close to her, still talking +earnestly, when all the outsiders had gone. + +Vivian found it hard to sleep that night. All that he had said of his +new hope, new power, new courage, bore out Mrs. St. Cloud's bright +promise of a new-built life. And some way, as she had listened and did +not forbid, the touch of his hand, the pressure of his arm, grew +warmer and brought back the memories of that summer night so long ago. + +He had begged hard for a kiss before he left her, and she quite had to +tear herself away, as Susie drifted in, also late; and Aunt Orella said +they must all go to bed right away--she was tired if they were not. + +She did look tired. This dance seemed somehow less agreeable to her +than had others. She took off her new prettinesses and packed them +away in a box in the lower drawer. + +"I'm an old fool!" she said. "Trying to dress up like a girl. I'm +ashamed of myself!" Quite possibly she did not sleep well either, yet +she had no room-mate to keep her awake by babbling on, as Susie did to +Vivian. + +Her discourse was first, last and always about Jimmie Saunders. He had +said this, he had looked that, he had done so; and what did Vivian +think he meant? And wasn't he handsome--and _so_ clever! + +Little Susie cuddled close and finally dropped off asleep, her arms +around Vivian. But the older girl counted the hours; her head, or her +heart, in a whirl. + +Morton Elder was wakeful, too. So much so that he arose with a +whispered expletive, took his shoes in his hand, and let himself +softly out for a tramp in the open. + +This was not the first of his love affairs, but with all his hot young +heart he wished it was. He stood still, alone on the high stretches of +moonlit mesa and looked up at the measureless, brilliant spaces above +him. + +"I'll keep straight--if I can have her!" he repeated under his breath. +"I will! I will!" + +It had never occurred to him before to be ashamed of the various +escapades of his youth. He had done no more than others, many others. +None of "the boys" he associated with intended to do what was wrong; +they were quite harsh in judgment of those who did, according to their +standards. None of them had been made acquainted with the social or +pathological results of their amusements, and the mere "Zutritt ist +Verboten" had never impressed them at all. + +But now the gentler influences of his childhood, even the narrow +morality of Bainville, rose in pleasant colors in his mind. He wished +he had saved his money, instead of spending it faster than it came in. +He wished he had kept out of poker and solo and barrooms generally. He +wished, in a dumb, shamed way, that he could come to her as clean as +she was. But he threw his shoulders back and lifted his head +determinedly. + +"I'll be good to her," he determined; "I'll make her a good husband." + +In the days that followed his devotion was as constant as before, but +more intelligent. His whole manner changed and softened. He began to +read the books she liked, and to talk about them. He was gentler to +everyone, more polite, even to the waitresses, tender and thoughtful +of his aunt and sister. Vivian began to feel a pride in him, and in +her influence, deepening as time passed. + +Mrs. Pettigrew, visiting the library on one of her frequent errands, +was encountered there and devotedly escorted home by Mr. Skee. + +"That is a most fascinating young lady who has Mr. Dykeman's room; +don't you think so, ma'am?" quoth he. + +"I do not," said Mrs. Pettigrew. "Young! She's not so young as you +are--nothing like--never was!" + +He threw back his head and laughed his queer laugh, which looked so +uproarious and made so little noise. + +"She certainly is a charmer, whatever her age may be," he continued. + +"Glad you think so, Mr. Skee. It may be time you lost a fourth!" + +"Lost a fourth? What in the--Hesperides!" + +"If you can't guess what, you needn't ask me!" said the lady, with +some tartness. "But for my own part I prefer the Apaches. Good +afternoon, Mr. Skee." + +She betook herself to her room with unusual promptness, and refused to +be baited forth by any kind of offered amusement. + +"It's right thoughtful of Andy Dykeman, gettin' up this entertainment +for Mrs. St. Cloud, isn't it, Mrs. Elder?" Thus Mr. Skee to Miss +Orella a little later. + +"I don't think it is Mr. Dykeman's idea at all," she told him. "It's +those boys over there. They are all wild about her, quite naturally." +She gave a little short sigh. "If Dr. Hale were at home I doubt if he +would encourage it." + +"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't, Ma'am. He's certainly down on the fair +sex, even such a peacherino as this one. But with Andy, now, it's +different. He is a man of excellent judgment." + +"I guess all men's judgment is pretty much alike in some ways," said +Miss Orella, oracularly. She seemed busy and constrained, and Mr. Skee +drifted off and paid court as best he might to Dr. Bellair. + +"Charmed to find you at home, Ma'am," he said; "or shall I say at +office?" + +"Call it what you like, Mr. Skee; it's been my home for a good many +years now." + +"It's a mighty fine thing for a woman, livin' alone, to have a +business, seems to me," remarked the visitor. + +"It's a fine thing for any woman, married or single, to my mind," she +answered. "I wish I could get Vivian Lane started in that kindergarten +she talks about." + +"There's kids enough, and goodness knows they need a gardener! What's +lackin'? House room?" + +"She thinks she's not really competent. She has no regular +certificate, you see. Her parents would never let go of her long +enough," the doctor explained. + +"Some parents _are_ pretty graspin', ain't they? To my mind, Miss +Vivian would be a better teacher than lots of the ticketed ones. She's +got the natural love of children." + +"Yes, and she has studied a great deal. She just needs an impetus." + +"Perhaps if she thought there was 'a call' she might be willing. I +doubt if the families here realize what they're missin'. Aint there +some among your patients who could be stirred up a little?" + +The doctor thought there were, and he suggested several names from his +apparently unlimited acquaintance. + +"I believe in occupation for the young. It takes up their minds," said +Mr. Skee, and departed with serenity. He strolled over to Dr. Hale's +fence and leaned upon it, watching the preparations. Mr. Dykeman, in +his shirt-sleeves, stood about offering suggestions, while the young +men swarmed here and there with poles and stepladders, hanging Chinese +lanterns. + +"Hello, Elmer; come in and make yourself useful," called Mr. Dykeman. + +"I'll come in, but I'll be switched if I'll be useful," he replied, +laying a large hand on the fence and vaulting his long legs over it +with an agility amazing in one of his alleged years. "You all are sure +putting yourself out for this occasion. Is it somebody's birthday?" + +"No; it's a get-up of these youngsters. They began by wanting Mrs. St. +Cloud to come over to tea--afternoon tea--and now look at this!" + +"Did she misunderstand the invitation as bad as that?" + +"O, no; just a gradual change of plan. One thing leads to another, you +know. Here, Archie! That bush won't hold the line. Put it on the +willow." + +"I see," said Mr. Skee; "and, as we're quotin' proverbs, I might +remark that 'While the cat's away the mice will play.'" + +Mr. Dykeman smiled. "It's rather a good joke on Hale, isn't it?" + +"Would be if he should happen to come home--and find this hen-party +on." They both chuckled. + +"I guess he's good for a week yet," said Mr. Dykeman. "Those medical +associations do a lot of talking. Higher up there, George--a good +deal higher." + +He ran over to direct the boys, and Mr. Skee, hands behind him, +strolled up and down the garden, wearing a meditative smile. He and +Andrew Dykeman had been friends for many long years. + +Dr. Bellair used her telephone freely after Mr. Skee's departure, +making notes and lists of names. Late in the afternoon she found +Vivian in the hall. + +"I don't see much of you these days, Miss Lane," she said. + +The girl flushed. Since Mrs. St. Cloud's coming and their renewed +intimacy she had rather avoided the doctor, and that lady had kept +herself conspicuously out of the way. + +"Don't call me Miss Lane; I'm Vivian--to my friends." + +"I hope you count me a friend?" said Dr. Bellair, gravely. + +"I do, Doctor, and I'm proud to. But so many things have been +happening lately," she laughed, a little nervously. "The truth is, I'm +really ashamed to talk to you; I'm so lazy." + +"That's exactly what I wanted to speak about. Aren't you ready to +begin that little school of yours?" + +"I'd like to--I should, really," said the girl. "But, somehow, I don't +know how to set about it." + +"I've been making some inquiries," said the doctor. "There are six or +eight among my patients that you could count on--about a dozen young +ones. How many could you handle?" + +"Oh, I oughtn't to have more than twenty in any case. A dozen would be +plenty to begin with. Do you think I _could_ count on them--really?" + +"I tell you what I'll do," her friend offered; "I'll take you around +and introduce you to any of them you don't know. Most of 'em come here +to the dances. There's Mrs. Horsford and Mrs. Blake, and that little +Mary Jackson with the twins. You'll find they are mostly friends." + +"You are awfully kind," said the girl. "I wish"--her voice took on a +sudden note of intensity--"I do wish I were strong, like you, Dr. +Bellair." + +"I wasn't very strong--at your age--my child. I did the weakest of +weak things--" + +Vivian was eager to ask her what it was, but a door opened down one +side passage and the doctor quietly disappeared down the other, as +Mrs. St. Cloud came out. + +"I thought I heard your voice," she said. "And Miss Elder's, wasn't +it?" + +"No; it was Dr. Bellair." + +"A strong character, and a fine physician, I understand. I'm sorry she +does not like me." + +Mrs. St. Cloud's smile made it seem impossible that anyone should +dislike her. + +Vivian could not, however, deny the fact, and was not diplomatic enough +to smooth it over, which her more experienced friend proceeded to do. + +"It is temperamental," she said gently. "If we had gone to school +together we would not have been friends. She is strong, downright, +progressive; I am weaker, more sensitive, better able to bear than to +do. You must find her so stimulating." + +"Yes," the girl said. "She was talking to me about my school." + +"Your school?" + +"Didn't you know I meant to have a sort of kindergarten? We planned it +even before starting; but Miss Elder seemed to need me at first, and +since then--things--have happened----" + +"And other things will happen, dear child! Quite other and different +things." + +The lady's smile was bewitching. Vivian flushed slowly under her gaze. + +"Oh, my dear, I watched you dancing together! You don't mind my +noticing, do you?" + +Her voice was suddenly tender and respectful. "I do not wish to +intrude, but you are very dear to me. Come into my room--do--and tell +me what to wear to-night." + +Mrs. St. Cloud's clothes had always been a delight to Vivian. They +were what she would have liked to wear--and never quite have dared, +under the New England fear of being "too dressy." Her own beauty was +kept trimly neat, like a closed gentian. + +Her friend was in the gayest mood. She showed her a trunkful of +delicate garments and gave her a glittering embroidered scarf, which +the girl rapturously admired, but declared she would never have the +courage to wear. + +"You shall wear it this very night," declared the lady. "Here--show me +what you've got. You shall be as lovely as you _are_, for once!" + +So Vivian brought out her modest wardrobe, and the older woman chose a +gown of white, insisted on shortening the sleeves to fairy wings of +lace, draped the scarf about her white neck, raised the soft, +close-bound hair to a regal crown, and put a shining star in it, and +added a string of pearls on the white throat. + +"Look at yourself now, child!" she said. + +Vivian looked, in the long depths of Mr. Dykeman's mirror. She knew +that she had beauty, but had never seen herself so brilliantly +attired. Erect, slender, graceful, the long lines of her young body +draped in soft white, and her dark head, crowned and shining, poised +on its white column, rising from the shimmering lace. Her color +deepened as she looked, and added to the picture. + +"You shall wear it to-night! You shall!" cried her admiring friend. +"To please me--if no one else!" + +Whether to please her or someone else, Vivian consented, the two +arriving rather late at the garden party across the way. + +Mr. Dykeman, looking very tall and fine in his evening clothes, was a +cordial host, ably seconded by the eager boys about him. + +The place was certainly a credit to their efforts, the bare rooms +being turned to bowers by vines and branches brought from the +mountains, and made fragrant by piled flowers. Lights glimmered +through colored shades among the leaves, and on the dining table young +Peters, who came from Connecticut, had rigged a fountain by means of +some rubber tubing and an auger hole in the floor. This he had made +before Mr. Dykeman caught him, and vowed Dr. Hale would not mind. Mr. +Peters' enjoyment of the evening, however, was a little dampened by +his knowledge of the precarious nature of this arrangement. He danced +attendance on Mrs. St. Cloud, with the others, but wore a preoccupied +expression, and stole in once or twice from the lit paths outside to +make sure that all was running well. It was well to and during supper +time, and the young man was complimented on his ingenuity. + +"Reminds me of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon," said Mr. Skee, +sentimentally. + +"Why?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew. + +"Oh, _why_, Ma'am? How can a fellow say why?" he protested. "Because +it is so--so efflorescent, I suppose." + +"Reminds me of a loose faucet," said she, _sotto voce_, to Dr. Bellair. + +Mr. Peters beamed triumphantly, but in the very hour of his glory +young Burns, hastening to get a cup of coffee for his fair one, +tripped over the concealed pipe, and the fountain poured forth its +contributions among the feet of the guests. + +This was a minor misadventure, however, hurting no one's feeling but +Mr. Peters', and Mrs. St. Cloud was so kind to him in consequence that +he was envied by all the others. + +Mr. Dykeman was attentive to his guests, old and young, but Mrs. +Pettigrew had not her usual smile for him; Miss Orella declined to +dance, alleging that she was too tired, and Dr. Bellair somewhat dryly +told him that he need not bother with her. He was hardly to be blamed +if he turned repeatedly to Mrs. St. Cloud, whose tactful sweetness was +always ready. She had her swarm of young admirers about her, yet never +failed to find a place for her host, a smile and a word of +understanding. + +Her eyes were everywhere. She watched Mr. Skee waltzing with the +youngest, providing well-chosen refreshments for Miss Orella, +gallantly escorting Grandma to see the "Lovers' Lane" they had made at +the end of the garden. Its twin lines of lights were all outside; +within was grateful shadow. + +Mrs. St. Cloud paced through this fragrant arbor with each and every one +of the receiving party, uttering ever-fresh expressions of admiration +and gratitude for their kind thoughtfulness, especially to Mr. Dykeman. + +When she saw Susie and Mr. Saunders go in at the farther end, she +constituted herself a sort of protective agency to keep every one else +out, holding them in play with various pleasant arts. + +And Vivian? When she arrived there was a little gasp from Morton, who +was waiting for her near the door. She was indeed a sight to make a +lover's heart leap. He had then, as it were, surrounded her. Vainly +did the others ask for dances. Morton had unblushingly filled out a +card with his own name and substituted it for the one she handed him. +She protested, but the music sounded and he whirled her away before +she could expostulate to any avail. + +His eyes spoke his admiration, and for once his tongue did not spoil +the impression. + +Half laughing and half serious, she let him monopolize her, but quite +drove him away when Mr. Dykeman claimed his dance. + +"All filled up!" said Morton for her, showing his card. + +"Mine was promised yesterday, was it not, Miss Lane?" said the big man, +smiling. And she went with him. He took her about the garden later, +gravely admiring and attentive, and when Susie fairly rushed into her +arms, begging her to come and talk with her, he left them both in a +small rose-crowned summer-house and went back to Mrs. St. Cloud. + +"Oh, Vivian, Vivian! What do you think!" Susie's face was buried on +Vivian's shoulder. "I'm engaged!" + +Vivian held her close and kissed her soft hair. Her joyous excitement +was contagious. + +"He's the nicest man in the world!" breathed Susie, "and he loves me!" + +"We all supposed he did. Didn't you know it before?" + +"Oh, yes, in a way; but, Vivian--he kissed me!" + +"Well, child, have you never in all your little life been kissed +before?" + +Susie lifted a rosy, tearful face for a moment. + +"Never, never, never!" she said. "I thought I had, but I haven't! Oh, +I am so happy!" + +"What's up?" inquired Morton, appearing with a pink lantern in his +hand, in impatient search for his adored one. "Susie--crying?" + +"No, I'm _not_," she said, and ran forthwith back to the house, whence +Jimmy was bringing her ice cream. + +Vivian started to follow her. + +"Oh, no, Vivian; don't go. Wait." He dropped the lantern and took her +hands. The paper cover flared up, showing her flushed cheeks and +starry eyes. He stamped out the flame, and in the sudden darkness +caught her in his arms. + +For a moment she allowed him, turning her head away. He kissed her +white shoulder. + +"No! No, Morton--don't! You mustn't!" + +She tried to withdraw herself, but he held her fast. She could feel +the pounding of his heart. + +"Oh, Vivian, don't say no! You will marry me, won't you? Some day, +when I'm more worth while. Say you will! Some day--if not now. I love +you so; I need you so! Say yes, Vivian." + +He was breathing heavily. His arms held her motionless. She still kept +her face turned from him. + +"Let me go, Morton; let me go! You hurt me!" + +"Say yes, dear, and I'll let you go--for a little while." + +"Yes," said Vivian. + +The ground jarred beside them, as a tall man jumped the hedge +boundary. He stood a moment, staring. + +"Well, is this my house, or Coney Island?" they heard him say. And +then Morton swore softly to himself as Vivian left him and came out. + +"Good evening, Dr. Hale," she said, a little breathlessly. "We weren't +expecting you so soon." + +"I should judge not," he answered. "What's up, anyhow?" + +"The boys--and Mr. Dykeman--are giving a garden party for Mrs. St. +Cloud." + +"For whom?" + +"For Adela St. Cloud. She is visiting us. Aren't you coming in?" + +"Not now," he said, and was gone without another word. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +CONSEQUENCES. + + You may have a fondness for grapes that are green, + And the sourness that greenness beneath; + You may have a right + To a colic at night-- + But consider your children's teeth! + + +Dr. Hale retired from his gaily illuminated grounds in too much +displeasure to consider the question of dignity. One suddenly acting +cause was the news given him by Vivian. The other was the sight of +Morton Elder's face as he struck a match to light his cigarette. + +Thus moved, and having entered and left his own grounds like a thief +in the night, he proceeded to tramp in the high-lying outskirts of the +town until every light in his house had gone out. Then he returned, +let himself into his office, and lay there on a lounge until morning. + +Vivian had come out so quickly to greet the doctor from obscure +motives. She felt a sudden deep objection to being found there with +Morton, a wish to appear as one walking about unconcernedly, and when +that match glow made Morton's face shine out prominently in the dark +shelter, she, too, felt a sudden displeasure. + +Without a word she went swiftly to the house, excused herself to her +Grandmother, who nodded understandingly, and returned to The +Cottonwoods, to her room. She felt that she must be alone and think; +think of that irrevocable word she had uttered, and its consequences. + +She sat at her window, rather breathless, watching the rows of pink +lanterns swaying softly on the other side of the street; hearing the +lively music, seeing young couples leave the gate and stroll off +homeward. + +Susie's happiness came more vividly to mind than her own. It was so +freshly joyous, so pure, so perfectly at rest. She could not feel that +way, could not tell with decision exactly how she did feel. But if this +was happiness, it was not as she had imagined it. She thought of that +moonlit summer night so long ago, and the memory of its warm wonder +seemed sweeter than the hasty tumult and compulsion of to-night. + +She was stirred through and through by Morton's intense emotion, but +with a sort of reaction, a wish to escape. He had been so madly +anxious, he had held her so close; there seemed no other way but to +yield to him--in order to get away. + +And then Dr. Hale had jarred the whole situation. She had to be polite +to him, in his own grounds. If only Morton had kept still--that +grating match--his face, bent and puffing, Dr. Hale must have seen +him. And again she thought of little Susie with almost envy. Even +after that young lady had come in, bubbled over with confidences and +raptures, and finally dropped to sleep without Vivian's having been +able to bring herself to return the confidences, she stole back to her +window again to breathe. + +Why had Dr. Hale started so at the name of Mrs. St. Cloud? That was +puzzling her more than she cared to admit. By and by she saw his +well-known figure, tall and erect, march by on the other side and go +into the office. + +"O, well," she sighed at last, "I'm not young, like Susie. Perhaps it +_is_ like this--" + +Now Morton had been in no special need of that cigarette at that +special moment, but he did not wish to seem to hide in the dusky +arbor, nor to emerge lamely as if he had hidden. So he lit the match, +more from habit than anything else. When it was out, and the cigarette +well lighted, he heard the doctor's sudden thump on the other side of +the fence and came out to rejoin Vivian. She was not there. + +He did not see her again that night, and his meditations were such +that next day found him, as a lover, far more agreeable to Vivian than +the night before. He showed real understanding, no triumph, no airs of +possession; took no liberties, only said: "When I am good enough I +shall claim you--my darling!" and looked at her with such restrained +longing that she quite warmed to him again. + +He held to this attitude, devoted, quietly affectionate; till her +sense of rebellion passed away and her real pleasure in his +improvement reasserted itself. As they read together, if now and then +his arm stole around her waist, he always withdrew it when so +commanded. Still, one cannot put the same severity into a prohibition +too often repeated. The constant, thoughtful attention of a man +experienced in the art of pleasing women, the new and frankly +inexperienced efforts he made to meet her highest thoughts, to learn +and share her preferences, both pleased her. + +He was certainly good looking, certainly amusing, certainly had become +a better man from her companionship. She grew to feel a sort of +ownership in this newly arisen character; a sort of pride in it. Then, +she had always been fond of Morton, since the time when he was only +"Susie's big brother." That counted. + +Another thing counted, too, counted heavily, though Vivian never +dreamed of it and would have hotly repudiated the charge. She was a +woman of full marriageable age, with all the unused powers of her +woman's nature calling for expression, quite unrecognized. + +He was a man who loved her, loved her more deeply than he had ever +loved before, than he had even known he could love; who quite +recognized what called within him and meant to meet the call. And he +was near her every day. + +After that one fierce outbreak he held himself well in check. He knew +he had startled her then, almost lost her. And with every hour of +their companionship he felt more and more how much she was to him. +Other women he had pursued, overtaken, left behind. He felt that there +was something in Vivian which was beyond him, giving a stir and lift +of aspiration which he genuinely enjoyed. + +Day by day he strove to win her full approval, and day by day he did +not neglect the tiny, slow-lapping waves of little tendernesses, small +affectionate liberties at well-chosen moments, always promptly +withdrawing when forbidden, but always beginning again a little +further on. + +Dr. Bellair went to Dr. Hale's office and sat herself down solidly in +the patient's chair. + +"Dick," she said, "are you going to stand for this?" + +"Stand for what, my esteemed but cryptic fellow-practitioner?" + +She eyed his calm, reserved countenance with friendly admiration. "You +are an awfully good fellow, Dick, but dull. At the same time dull and +transparent. Are you going to sit still and let that dangerous patient +of yours marry the finest girl in town?" + +"Your admiration for girls is always stronger than mine, Jane; and I +have, if you will pardon the boast, more than one patient." + +"All right, Dick--if you want it made perfectly clear to your +understanding. Do you mean to let Morton Elder marry Vivian Lane?" + +"What business is it of mine?" he demanded, more than +brusquely--savagely. + +"You know what he's got." + +"I am a physician, not a detective. And I am not Miss Lane's father, +brother, uncle or guardian." + +"Or lover," added Dr. Bellair, eyeing him quietly. She thought she saw a +second's flicker of light in the deep gray eyes, a possible tightening +of set lips. "Suppose you are not," she said; "nor even a humanitarian. +You _are_ a member of society. Do you mean to let a man whom you know +has no right to marry, poison the life of that splendid girl?" + +He was quite silent for a moment, but she could see the hand on the +farther arm of his chair grip it till the nails were white. + +"How do you know he--wishes to marry her?" + +"If you were about like other people, you old hermit, you'd know it as +well as anybody. I think they are on the verge of an engagement, if +they aren't over it already. Once more, Dick, shall you do anything?" + +"No," said he. Then, as she did not add a word, he rose and walked up +and down the office in big strides, turning upon her at last. + +"You know how I feel about this. It is a matter of honor--professional +honor. You women don't seem to know what the word means. I've told +that good-for-nothing young wreck that he has no right to marry for +years yet, if ever. That is all I can do. I will not betray the +confidence of a patient." + +"Not if he had smallpox, or scarlet fever, or the bubonic plague? +Suppose a patient of yours had the leprosy, and wanted to marry your +sister, would you betray his confidence?" + +"I might kill my sister," he said, glaring at her. "I refuse to argue +with you." + +"Yes, I think you'd better refuse," she said, rising. "And you don't +have to kill Vivian Lane, either. A man's honor always seems to want +to kill a woman to satisfy it. I'm glad I haven't got the feeling. +Well, Dick, I thought I'd give you a chance to come to your senses, a +real good chance. But I won't leave you to the pangs of unavailing +remorse, you poor old goose. That young syphilitic is no patient of +mine." And she marched off to perform a difficult duty. + +She was very fond of Vivian. The girl's unselfish sweetness of +character and the depth of courage and power she perceived behind the +sensitive, almost timid exterior, appealed to her. If she had had a +daughter, perhaps she would have been like that. If she had had a +daughter would she not have thanked anyone who would try to save her +from such a danger? From that worse than deadly peril, because of +which she had no daughter. + +Dr. Bellair was not the only one who watched Morton's growing devotion +with keen interest. To his aunt it was a constant joy. From the time her +boisterous little nephew had come to rejoice her heart and upset her +immaculate household arrangements, and had played, pleasantly though +tyrannically, with the little girl next door, Miss Orella had dreamed +this romance for him. To have it fail was part of her grief when he left +her, to have it now so visibly coming to completion was a deep delight. + +If she had been blind to his faults, she was at least vividly +conscious of the present sudden growth of virtues. She beamed at him +with affectionate pride, and her manner to Mrs. Pettigrew was one of +barely subdued "I told you so." Indeed, she could not restrain herself +altogether, but spoke to that lady with tender triumph of how lovely +it was to have Morton so gentle and nice. + +"You never did like the boy, I know, but you must admit that he is +behaving beautifully now." + +"I will," said the old lady; "I'll admit it without reservation. He's +behaving beautifully--now. But I'm not going to talk about him--to +you, Orella." So she rolled up her knitting work and marched off. + +"Too bad she's so prejudiced and opinionated," said Miss Elder to +Susie, rather warmly. "I'm real fond of Mrs. Pettigrew, but when she +takes a dislike----" + +Susie was so happy herself that she seemed to walk in an aura of rosy +light. Her Jimmie was so evidently the incarnation of every masculine +virtue and charm that he lent a reflected lustre to other men, even to +her brother. Because of her love for Jimmie, she loved Morton +better--loved everybody better. To have her only brother marry her +dearest friend was wholly pleasant to Susie. + +It was not difficult to wring from Vivian a fair knowledge of how +things stood, for, though reserved by nature, she was utterly unused +to concealing anything, and could not tell an efficient lie if she +wanted to. + +"Are you engaged or are you not, you dear old thing?" demanded Susie. + +And Vivian admitted that there was "an understanding." But Susie +absolutely must not speak of it. + +For a wonder she did not, except to Jimmie. But people seemed to make +up their minds on the subject with miraculous agreement. The general +interest in the manifold successes of Mrs. St. Cloud gave way to this +vivid personal interest, and it was discussed from two sides among +their whole circle of acquaintance. + +One side thought that a splendid girl was being wasted, sacrificed, +thrown away, on a disagreeable, good-for-nothing fellow. The other +side thought the "interesting" Mr. Elder might have done better; they +did not know what he could see in her. + +They, that vaguely important They, before whom we so deeply bow, were +also much occupied in their mind by speculations concerning Mr. +Dykeman and two Possibilities. One quite patently possible, even +probable, giving rise to the complacent "Why, anybody could see +that!" and the other a fascinatingly impossible Possibility of a sort +which allows the even more complacent "Didn't you? Why, I could see it +from the first." + +Mr. Dykeman had been a leading citizen in that new-built town for some +ten years, which constituted him almost the Oldest Inhabitant. He was +reputed to be extremely wealthy, though he never said anything about +it, and neither his clothing nor his cigars reeked of affluence. +Perhaps nomadic chambermaids had spread knowledge of those +silver-backed appurtenances, and the long mirror. Or perhaps it was +not woman's gossip at all, but men's gossip, which has wider base, and +wider circulation, too. + +Mr. Dykeman had certainly "paid attentions" to Miss Elder. Miss Elder +had undeniably brightened and blossomed most becomingly under these +attentions. He had danced with her, he had driven with her, he had +played piquet with her when he might have played whist. To be sure, he +did these things with other ladies, and had done them for years past, +but this really looked as if there might be something in it. + +Mr. Skee, as Mr. Dykeman's oldest friend, was even questioned a little; +but it was not very much use to question Mr. Skee. His manner was not +repellant, and not in the least reserved. He poured forth floods of +information so voluminous and so varied that the recipient was rather +drowned than fed. So opinions wavered as to Mr. Dykeman's intentions. + +Then came this lady of irresistible charm, and the unmarried citizens +of the place fell at her feet as one man. Even the married ones +slanted over a little. + +Mr. Dykeman danced with her, more than he had with Miss Elder. Mr. +Dykeman drove with her, more than he had with Miss Elder. Mr. Dykeman +played piquet with her, and chess, which Miss Elder could not play. +And Miss Elder's little opening petals of ribbon and lace curled up +and withered away; while Mrs. St. Cloud's silken efflorescence, softly +waving and jewel-starred, flourished apace. + +Dr. Bellair had asked Vivian to take a walk with her; and they sat +together, resting, on a high lonely hill, a few miles out of town. + +"It's a great pleasure to see this much of you, Dr. Bellair," said the +girl, feeling really complimented. + +"I'm afraid you won't think so, my dear, when you hear what I have to +say: what I _have_ to say." + +The girl flushed a little. "Are you going to scold me about something? +Have I done anything wrong?" Her eyes smiled bravely. "Go on, Doctor. +I know it will be for my best good." + +"It will indeed, dear child," said the doctor, so earnestly that +Vivian felt a chill of apprehension. + +"I am going to talk to you 'as man to man' as the story books say; as +woman to woman. When I was your age I had been married three years." + +Vivian was silent, but stole out a soft sympathetic hand and slipped it +into the older woman's. She had heard of this early-made marriage, also +early broken; with various dark comments to which she had paid no +attention. + +Dr. Bellair was Dr. Bellair, and she had a reverential affection for +her. + +There was a little silence. The Doctor evidently found it hard to +begin. "You love children, don't you, Vivian?" + +The girl's eyes kindled, and a heavenly smile broke over her face. +"Better than anything in the world," she said. + +"Ever think about them?" asked her friend, her own face whitening as she +spoke. "Think about their lovely little soft helplessness--when you hold +them in your arms and have to do _everything_ for them. Have to go and +turn them over--see that the little ear isn't crumpled--that the covers +are all right. Can't you see 'em, upside down on the bath apron, +grabbing at things, perfectly happy, but prepared to howl when it comes +to dressing? And when they are big enough to love you! Little soft arms +that will hardly go round your neck. Little soft cheeks against yours, +little soft mouths and little soft kisses,--ever think of them?" + +The girl's eyes were like stars. She was looking into the future; her +breath came quickly; she sat quite still. + +The doctor swallowed hard, and went on. "We mostly don't go much +farther than that at first. It's just the babies we want. But you can +look farther--can follow up, year by year, the lovely changing growing +bodies and minds, the confidence and love between you, the pride you +have as health is established, strength and skill developed, and +character unfolds and deepens. + +"Then when they are grown, and sort of catch up, and you have those +splendid young lives about you, intimate strong friends and tender +lovers. And you feel as though you had indeed done something for the +world." + +She stopped, saying no more for a little, watching the girl's awed +shining face. Suddenly that face was turned to her, full of exquisite +sympathy, the dark eyes swimming with sudden tears; and two soft eager +arms held her close. + +"Oh, Doctor! To care like that and not--!" + +"Yes, my dear;" said the doctor, quietly. "And not have any. Not be +able to have any--ever." + +Vivian caught her breath with pitying intensity, but her friend went +on. + +"Never be able to have a child, because I married a man who had +gonorrhea. In place of happy love, lonely pain. In place of +motherhood, disease. Misery and shame, child. Medicine and surgery, +and never any possibility of any child for me." + +The girl was pale with horror. "I--I didn't know--" She tried to say +something, but the doctor burst out impatiently: + +"No! You don't know. I didn't know. Girls aren't taught a word of +what's before them till it's too late--not _then_, sometimes! Women +lose every joy in life, every hope, every capacity for service or +pleasure. They go down to their graves without anyone's telling them +the cause of it all." + +"That was why you--left him?" asked Vivian presently. + +"Yes, I left him. When I found I could not be a mother I determined to +be a doctor, and save other women, if I could." She said this with +such slow, grave emphasis that Vivian turned a sudden startled face to +her, and went white to the lips. + +"I may be wrong," the doctor said, "you have not given me your +confidence in this matter. But it is better, a thousand times better, +that I should make this mistake than for you to make that. You must +not marry Morton Elder." + +Vivian did not admit nor deny. She still wore that look of horror. + +"You think he has--That?" + +"I do not know whether he has gonorrhea or not; it takes a long +microscopic analysis to be sure; but there is every practical +assurance that he's had it, and I know he's had syphilis." + +If Vivian could have turned paler she would have, then. + +"I've heard of--that," she said, shuddering. + +"Yes, the other is newer to our knowledge, far commoner, and really +more dangerous. They are two of the most terrible diseases known to +us; highly contagious, and in the case of syphilis, hereditary. Nearly +three-quarters of the men have one or the other, or both." + +But Vivian was not listening. Her face was buried in her hands. She +crouched low in agonized weeping. + +"Oh, come, come, my dear. Don't take it so hard. There's no harm done +you see, it's not too late." + +"Oh, it _is_ too late! It is!" wailed the girl. "I have promised to +marry him." + +"I don't care if you were at the altar, child; you _haven't_ married +him, and you mustn't." + +"I have given my word!" said the girl dully. She was thinking of +Morton now. Of his handsome face, with it's new expression of +respectful tenderness; of all the hopes they had built together; of +his life, so dependent upon hers for its higher interests. + +She turned to the doctor, her lips quivering. "He _loves_ me!" she +said. "I--we--he says I am all that holds him up, that helps him to +make a newer better life. And he has changed so--I can see it! He says +he has loved me, really, since he was seventeen!" + +The older sterner face did not relax. + +"He told me he had--done wrong. He was honest about it. He said he +wasn't--worthy." + +"He isn't," said Dr. Bellair. + +"But surely I owe some duty to him. He depends on me. And I have +promised--" + +The doctor grew grimmer. "Marriage is for motherhood," she said. "That +is its initial purpose. I suppose you might deliberately forego +motherhood, and undertake a sort of missionary relation to a man, but +that is not marriage." + +"He loves me," said the girl with gentle stubbornness. She saw Morton's +eyes, as she had so often seen them lately; full of adoration and manly +patience. She felt his hand, as she had felt it so often lately, holding +hers, stealing about her waist, sometimes bringing her fingers to his +lips for a strong slow kiss which she could not forget for hours. + +She raised her head. A new wave of feeling swept over her. She saw a +vista of self-sacrificing devotion, foregoing much, forgiving much, +but rejoicing in the companionship of a noble life, a soul rebuilt, a +love that was passionately grateful. Her eyes met those of her friend +fairly. "And I love him!" she said. + +"Will you tell that to your crippled children?" asked Dr. Bellair. +"Will they understand it if they are idiots? Will they see it if they +are blind? Will it satisfy you when they are dead?" + +The girl shrank before her. + +"You _shall_ understand," said the doctor. "This is no case for +idealism and exalted emotion. Do you want a son like Theophile?" + +"I thought you said--they didn't have any." + +"Some don't--that is one result. Another result--of gonorrhea--is to +have children born blind. Their eyes may be saved, with care. But it +is not a motherly gift for one's babies--blindness. You may have years +and years of suffering yourself--any or all of those diseases +'peculiar to women' as we used to call them! And we pitied the men who +'were so good to their invalid wives'! You may have any number of +still-born children, year after year. And every little marred dead +face would remind you that you allowed it! And they may be deformed +and twisted, have all manner of terrible and loathsome afflictions, +they and their children after them, if they have any. And many do! +dear girl, don't you see that's wicked?" + +Vivian was silent, her two hands wrung together; her whole form +shivering with emotion. + +"Don't think that you are 'ruining his life,'" said the doctor kindly. +"He ruined it long ago--poor boy!" + +The girl turned quickly at the note of sympathy. + +"They don't know either," her friend went on. "What could Miss Orella +do, poor little saint, to protect a lively young fellow like that! All +they have in their scatter-brained heads is 'it's naughty but it's +nice!' And so they rush off and ruin their whole lives--and their +wives'--and their children's. A man don't have to be so very wicked, +either, understand. Just one mis-step may be enough for infection." + +"Even if it did break his heart, and yours--even if you both lived +single, he because it is the only decent thing he can do now, you +because of a misguided sense of devotion; that would be better than to +commit this plain sin. Beware of a biological sin, my dear; for it +there is no forgiveness." + +She waited a moment and went on, as firmly and steadily as she would +have held the walls of a wound while she placed the stitches. + +"If you two love each other so nobly and devotedly that it is higher +and truer and more lasting than the ordinary love of men and women, +you might be 'true' to one another for a lifetime, you see. And all +that friendship can do, exalted influence, noble inspiration--that is +open to you." + +Vivian's eyes were wide and shining. She saw a possible future, not +wholly unbearable. + +"Has he kissed you yet?" asked the doctor suddenly. + +"No," she said. "That is--except----" + +"Don't let him. You might catch it. Your friendship must be distant. +Well, shall we be going back? I'm sorry, my dear. I did hate awfully +to do it. But I hated worse to see you go down those awful steps from +which there is no returning." + +"Yes," said Vivian. "Thank you. Won't you go on, please? I'll come +later." + +An hour the girl sat there, with the clear blue sky above her, the +soft steady wind rustling the leaves, the little birds that hopped and +pecked and flirted their tails so near her motionless figure. + +She thought and thought, and through all the tumult of ideas it grew +clearer to her that the doctor was right. She might sacrifice herself. +She had no right to sacrifice her children. + +A feeling of unreasoning horror at this sudden outlook into a field of +unknown evil was met by her clear perception that if she was old +enough to marry, to be a mother, she was surely old enough to know +these things; and not only so, but ought to know them. + +Shy, sensitive, delicate in feeling as the girl was, she had a fair +and reasoning mind. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +DETERMINATION. + + You may shut your eyes with a bandage, + The while world vanishes soon; + You may open your eyes at a knothole + And see the sun and moon. + + +It must have grieved anyone who cared for Andrew Dykeman, to see Mrs. +St. Cloud's manner toward him change with his changed circumstances--she +had been so much with him, had been so kind to him; kinder than Carston +comment "knew for a fact," but not kinder than it surmised. + +Then, though his dress remained as quietly correct, his face assumed a +worn and anxious look, and he no longer offered her long auto rides or +other expensive entertainment. She saw men on the piazza stop talking +as he came by, and shake their heads as they looked after him; but no +one would tell her anything definite till she questioned Mr. Skee. + +"I am worried about Mr. Dykeman," she said to this ever-willing +confidant, beckoning him to a chair beside her. + +A chair, to the mind of Mr. Skee, seemed to be for pictorial uses, +only valuable as part of the composition. He liked one to stand +beside, to put a foot on, to lean over from behind, arms on the back; +to tip up in front of him as if he needed a barricade; and when he was +persuaded to sit in one, it was either facing the back, cross-saddle +and bent forward, or--and this was the utmost decorum he was able to +approach--tipped backward against the wall. + +"He does not look well," said the lady, "you are old friends--do tell +me; if it is anything wherein a woman's sympathy would be of service?" + +"I'm afraid not, Ma'am," replied Mr. Skee darkly. "Andy's hard hit in +a worse place than his heart. I wouldn't betray a friend's confidence +for any money, Ma'am; but this is all over town. It'll go hard with +Andy, I'm afraid, at his age." + +"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she whispered. "So sorry! But surely with a man of +his abilities it will be only a temporary reverse!--" + +"Dunno 'bout the abilities--not in this case. Unless he has ability +enough to discover a mine bigger'n the one he's lost! You see, Ma'am, +it's this way," and he sunk his voice to a confidential rumble. "Andy +had a bang-up mine, galena ore--not gold, you understand, but often +pays better. And he kept on putting the money it made back into it to +make more. Then, all of a sudden, it petered out! No more eggs in that +basket. 'Course he can't sell it--now. And last year he refused half a +million. Andy's sure down on his luck." + +"But he will recover! You western men are so wonderful! He will find +another mine!" + +"O yes, he _may_! Certainly he _may_, Ma'am. Not that he found this +one--he just bought it." + +"Well--he can buy another, there are more, aren't there?" + +"Sure there are! There's as good mines in the earth as ever was +salted--that's my motto! But Andy's got no more money to buy any +mines. What he had before he inherited. No, Ma'am," said Mr. Skee, +with a sigh. "I'm afraid its all up with Andy Dykeman financially!" + +This he said more audibly; and Miss Elder and Miss Pettigrew, sitting in +their parlor, could not help hearing. Miss Elder gave a little gasp and +clasped her hands tightly, but Miss Pettigrew arose, and came outside. + +"What's this about Mr. Dykeman?" she questioned abruptly. "Has he had +losses?" + +"There now," said Mr. Skee, remorsefully, "I never meant to give him +away like that. Mrs. Pettigrew, Ma'am, I must beg you not to mention it +further. I was only satisfyin' this lady here, in answer to sympathetic +anxiety, as to what was making Andrew H. Dykeman so down in the mouth. +Yes'm--he's lost every cent he had in the world, or is likely to have. +Of course, among friends, he'll get a job fast enough, bookkeepin', or +something like that--though he's not a brilliant man, Andy isn't. You +needn't to feel worried, Mrs. Pettigrew; he'll draw a salary all right, +to the end of time; but he's out of the game of Hot Finance." + +Mrs. Pettigrew regarded the speaker with a scintillating eye. He +returned her look with unflinching seriousness. "Have a chair, Ma'am," +he said. "Let me bring out your rocker. Sit down and chat with us." + +"No, thanks," said the old lady. "It seems to me a little--chilly, out +here. I'll go in." + +She went in forthwith, to find Miss Orella furtively wiping her eyes. + +"What are you crying about, Orella Elder! Just because a man's lost +his money? That happens to most of 'em now and then." + +"Yes, I know--but you heard what he said. Oh, I can't believe it! To +think of his having to be provided for by his friends--and having to +take a small salary--after being so well off! I am so sorry for him!" + +Miss Elder's sorrow was increased to intensity by noting Mrs. St. +Cloud's changed attitude. Mr. Dykeman made no complaint, uttered no +protest, gave no confidences; but it soon appeared that he was working +in an office; and furthermore that this position was given him by Mr. +Skee. + +That gentleman, though discreetly reticent as to his own affairs, now +appeared in far finer raiment than he had hitherto affected; developed +a pronounced taste in fobs and sleeve buttons; and a striking harmony +in socks and scarfs. + +Men talked openly of him; no one seemed to know anything definite, but +all were certain that "Old Skee must have struck it rich." + +Mr. Skee kept his own counsel; but became munificent in gifts and +entertainments. He produced two imposing presents for Susie; one a +"betrothal gift," the other a conventional wedding present. + +"This is a new one to me," he said when he offered her the first; "but +I understand it's the thing. In fact I'm sure of it--for I've +consulted Mrs. St. Cloud and she helped me to buy 'em." + +He consulted Mrs. St. Cloud about a dinner he proposed giving to Mr. +Saunders--"one of these Farewell to Egypt affairs," he said. "Not that +I imagine Jim Saunders ever was much of a--Egyptian--but then----!" + +He consulted her also about Vivian--did she not think the girl looked +worn and ill? Wouldn't it be a good thing to send her off for a trip +somewhere? + +He consulted her about a library; said he had always wanted a library +of his own, but the public ones were somewhat in his way. How many +books did she think a man ought really to own--to spend his declining +years among. Also, and at considerable length he consulted her about +the best possible place of residence. + +"I'm getting to be an old man, Mrs. St. Cloud," he remarked +meditatively; "and I'm thinking of buying and building somewhere. But +it's a ticklish job. Lo! these many years I've been perfectly contented +to live wherever I was at; and now that I'm considering a real +Home--blamed if I know where to put it! I'm distracted between A Model +Farm, and A Metropolitan Residence. Which would you recommend, Ma'am?" + +The lady's sympathy and interest warmed to Mr. Skee as they cooled to +Mr. Dykeman, not with any blameworthy or noticeable suddenness, but in +soft graduations, steady and continuous. The one wore his new glories +with an air of modest pride; making no boast of affluence; and the +other accepted that which had befallen him without rebellion. + +Miss Orella's tender heart was deeply touched. As fast as Mrs. St. +Cloud gave the cold shoulder to her friend, she extended a warm hand; +when they chatted about Mr. Skee's visible success, she spoke bravely +of the beauty of limited means; and when it was time to present her +weekly bills to the boarders, she left none in Mr. Dykeman's room. +This he took for an oversight at first; but when he found the omission +repeated on the following week, he stood by his window smiling +thoughtfully for some time, and then went in search of Miss Orella. + +She sat by her shaded lamp, alone, knitting a silk tie which was +promptly hidden as he entered. He stood by the door looking at her in +spite of her urging him to be seated, observing the warm color in her +face, the graceful lines of her figure, the gentle smile that was so +unfailingly attractive. Then he came forward, calmly inquiring, "Why +haven't you sent me my board bill?" + +She lifted her eyes to his, and dropped them, flushing. "I--excuse me; +but I thought----" + +"You thought I couldn't conveniently pay it?" + +"O please excuse me! I didn't mean to be--to do anything you wouldn't +like. But I did hear that you were--temporarily embarrassed. And I +want you to feel sure, Mr. Dykeman, that to your real friends it makes +no difference in the _least_. And if--for a while that is--it should +be a little more convenient to--to defer payment, please feel +perfectly at liberty to wait!" + +She stood there blushing like a girl, her sweet eyes wet with shining +tears that did not fall, full of tender sympathy for his misfortune. + +"Have you heard that I've lost all my money?" he asked. + +She nodded softly. + +"And that I can't ever get it back--shall have to do clerk's work at a +clerk's salary--as long as I live?" + +Again she nodded. + +He took a step or two back and forth in the quiet parlor, and returned +to her. + +"Would you marry a poor man?" he asked in a low tender voice. "Would you +marry a man not young, not clever, not rich, but who loved you dearly? +You are the sweetest woman I ever saw, Orella Elder--will you marry me?" + +She came to him, and he drew her close with a long sigh of utter +satisfaction. "Now I am rich indeed," he said softly. + +She held him off a little. "Don't talk about being rich. It doesn't +matter. If you like to live here--why this house will keep us both. If +you'd rather have a little one--I can live _so_ happily--on _so_ +little! And there is my own little home in Bainville--perhaps you +could find something to do there. I don't care the least in the +world--so long as you love me!" + +"I've loved you since I first set eyes on you," he answered her. "To +see the home you've made here for all of us was enough to make any man +love you. But I thought awhile back that I hadn't any chance--you +weren't jealous of that Artificial Fairy, were you?" + +And conscientiously Miss Orella lied. + +Carston society was pleased, but not surprised at Susie's engagement; it +was both pleased and surprised when Miss Elder's was announced. Some +there were who protested that they had seen it from the beginning; but +disputatious friends taxed them with having prophesied quite otherwise. + +Some thought Miss Elder foolish to take up with a man of full middle +age, and with no prospects; and others attributed the foolishness to +Mr. Dykeman, in marrying an old maid. Others again darkly hinted that +he knew which side his bread was buttered--"and first-rate butter, +too." Adding that they "did hate to see a man sit around and let his +wife keep boarders!" + +In Bainville circles the event created high commotion. That one of their +accumulated maidens, part of the Virgin Sacrifice of New England, which +finds not even a Minotaur--had thus triumphantly escaped from their +ranks and achieved a husband; this was flatly heretical. The fact that +he was a poor man was the only mitigating circumstance, leaving it open +to the more captious to criticize the lady sharply. + +But the calm contentment of Andrew Dykeman's face, and the decorous +bliss of Miss Elder's were untroubled by what anyone thought or said. + +Little Susie was delighted, and teased for a double wedding; without +success. "One was enough to attend to, at one time," her aunt replied. + + * * * * * + +In all this atmosphere of wooings and weddings, Vivian walked apart, +as one in a bad dream that could never end. That day when Dr. Bellair +left her on the hill, left her alone in a strange new horrible world, +was still glaring across her consciousness, the end of one life, the +bar to any other. Its small events were as clear to her as those which +stand out so painfully on a day of death; all that led up to the +pleasant walk, when an eager girl mounted the breezy height, and a +sad-faced woman came down from it. + +She had waited long and came home slowly, dreading to see a face she +knew, dreading worst of all to see Morton. The boy she had known so +long, the man she was beginning to know, had changed to an +unbelievable horror; and the love which had so lately seemed real to +her recoiled upon her heart with a sense of hopeless shame. + +She wished--eagerly, desperately, she wished--she need never see him +again. She thought of the man's resource of running away--if she could +just _go_, go at once, and write to him from somewhere. + +Distant Bainville seemed like a haven of safety; even the decorous, +narrow, monotony of its dim life had a new attraction. These terrors +were not in Bainville, surely. Then the sickening thought crept in that +perhaps they were--only they did not know it. Besides, she had no money +to go with. If only she had started that little school sooner! Write to +her father for money she would not. No, she must bear it here. + +The world was discolored in the girl's eyes. Love had become a horror +and marriage impossible. She pushed the idea from her, impotently, as +one might push at a lava flow. + +In her wide reading she had learned in a vague way of "evil"--a +distant undescribed evil which was in the world, and which must be +avoided. She had known that there was such a thing as "sin," and +abhorred the very thought of it. + +Morton's penitential confessions had given no details; she had +pictured him only as being "led astray," as being "fast," even perhaps +"wicked." Wickedness could be forgiven; and she had forgiven him, +royally. But wickedness was one thing, disease was another. +Forgiveness was no cure. + +The burden of new knowledge so distressed her that she avoided the +family entirely that evening, avoided Susie, went to her grandmother +and asked if she might come and sleep on the lounge in her room. + +"Surely, my child, glad to have you," said Mrs. Pettigrew +affectionately. "Better try my bed--there's room a-plenty." + +The girl lay long with those old arms about her, crying quietly. Her +grandmother asked no questions, only patted her softly from time to +time, and said, "There! There!" in a pleasantly soothing manner. +After some time she remarked, "If you want to say things, my dear, +say 'em--anything you please." + +In the still darkness they talked long and intimately; and the wise +old head straightened things out somewhat for the younger one. + +"Doctors don't realize how people feel about these matters," said Mrs. +Pettigrew. "They are so used to all kinds of ghastly things they forget +that other folks can't stand 'em. She was too hard on you, dearie." + +But Vivian defended the doctor. "Oh, no, Grandma. She did +it beautifully. And it hurt her so. She told me about her +own--disappointment." + +"Yes, I remember her as a girl, you see. A fine sweet girl she was +too. It was an awful blow--and she took it hard. It has made her +bitter, I think, perhaps; that and the number of similar cases she had +to cope with." + +"But, Grandma--is it--_can_ it be as bad as she said? Seventy-five per +cent! Three-quarters of--of everybody!" + +"Not everybody dear, thank goodness. Our girls are mostly clean, and +they save the race, I guess." + +"I don't even want to _see_ a man again!" said the girl with low +intensity. + +"Shouldn't think you would, at first. But, dear child--just brace +yourself and look it fair in the face! The world's no worse than it +was yesterday--just because you know more about it!" + +"No," Vivian admitted, "But it's like uncovering a charnel house!" she +shuddered. + +"Never saw a charnel house myself," said the old lady, "even with the +lid on. But now see here child; you mustn't feel as if all men were +Unspeakable Villains. They are just ignorant boys--and nobody ever +tells 'em the truth. Nobody used to know it, for that matter. All this +about gonorrhea is quite newly discovered--it has set the doctors all +by the ears. Having women doctors has made a difference too--lots of +difference." + +"Besides," she went on after a pause, "things are changing very fast +now, since the general airing began. Dr. Prince Morrow in New York, +with that society of his--(I can never remember the name--makes me +think of tooth brushes) has done much; and the popular magazines have +taken it up. You must have seen some of those articles, Vivian." + +"I have," the girl said, "but I couldn't bear to read them--ever." + +"That's it!" responded her grandmother, tartly; "we bring up girls to +think it is not proper to know anything about the worst danger before +them. Proper!--Why my dear child, the young girls are precisely the ones +_to_ know! it's no use to tell a woman who has buried all her +children--or wishes she had!--that it was all owing to her ignorance, +and her husband's. You have to know beforehand if it's to do you any +good." + +After awhile she continued: "Women are waking up to this all over the +country, now. Nice women, old and young. The women's clubs and +congresses are taking it up, as they should. Some states have passed +laws requiring a medical certificate--a clean bill of health--to go +with a license to marry. You can see that's reasonable! A man has to +be examined to enter the army or navy, even to get his life insured; +Marriage and Parentage are more important than those things! And we +are beginning to teach children and young people what they ought to +know. There's hope for us!" + +"But Grandma--it's so awful--about the children." + +"Yes dear, yes. It's pretty awful. But don't feel as if we were all on +the brink of perdition. Remember that we've got a whole quarter of the +men to bank on. That's a good many, in this country. We're not so bad +as Europe--not yet--in this line. Then just think of this, child. We +have lived, and done splendid things all these years, even with this +load of disease on us. Think what we can do when we're rid of it! And +that's in the hands of woman, my dear--as soon as we know enough. +Don't be afraid of knowledge. When we all know about this we can stop +it! Think of that. We can religiously rid the world of all +these--'undesirable citizens.'" + +"How, Grandma?" + +"Easy enough, my dear. By not marrying them." + +There was a lasting silence. + +Grandma finally went to sleep, making a little soft whistling sound +through her parted lips; but Vivian lay awake for long slow hours. + + * * * * * + +It was one thing to make up her own mind, though not an easy one, by +any means; it was quite another to tell Morton. + +He gave her no good opportunity. He did not say again, "Will you marry +me?" So that she could say, "No," and be done with it. He did not even +say, "When will you marry me?" to which she could answer "Never!" He +merely took it for granted that she was going to, and continued to +monopolize her as far as possible, with all pleasant and comfortable +attentions. + +She forced the situation even more sharply than she wished, by turning +from him with a shiver when he met her on the stairs one night and +leaned forward as if to kiss her. + +He stopped short. + +"What is the matter, Vivian--are you ill?" + +"No--" She could say nothing further, but tried to pass him. + +"Look here--there _is_ something. You've been--different--for several +days. Have I done anything you don't like?" + +"Oh, Morton!" His question was so exactly to the point; and so +exquisitely inadequate! He had indeed. + +"I care too much for you to let anything stand between us now," he +went on. + +"Come, there's no one in the upper hall--come and 'tell me the +worst.'" + +"As well now as ever." thought the girl. Yet when they sat on the long +window seat, and he turned his handsome face toward her, with that +newer, better look on it, she could not believe that this awful thing +was true. + +"Now then--What is wrong between us?" he said. + +She answered only, "I will tell you the worst, Morton. I cannot marry +you--ever." + +He whitened to the lips, but asked quietly, "Why?" + +"Because you have--Oh, I _cannot_ tell you!" + +"I have a right to know, Vivian. You have made a man of me. I love you +with my whole heart. What have I done--that I have not told you?" + +Then she recalled his contrite confessions; and contrasted what he had +told her with what he had not; with the unspeakable fate to which he +would have consigned her--and those to come; and a sort of holy rage +rose within her. + +"You never told me of the state of your health, Morton." + +It was done. She looked to see him fall at her feet in utter +abashment, but he did nothing of the kind. What he did do astonished +her beyond measure. He rose to his feet, with clenched fists. + +"Has that damned doctor been giving me away?" he demanded. "Because if +he has I'll kill him!" + +"He has not," said Vivian. "Not by the faintest hint, ever. And is +_that_ all you think of?-- + +"Good-bye." + +She rose to leave him, sick at heart. + +Then he seemed to realize that she was going; that she meant it. + +"Surely, surely!" he cried, "you won't throw me over now! Oh, Vivian! +I told you I had been wild--that I wasn't fit to touch your little +slippers! And I wasn't going to ask you to marry me till I felt sure +this was all done with. All the rest of my life was yours, darling--is +yours. You have made me over--surely you won't leave me now!" + +"I must," she said. + +He looked at her despairingly. If he lost her he lost not only a +woman, but the hope of a life. Things he had never thought about +before had now grown dear to him; a home, a family, an honorable place +in the world, long years of quiet happiness. + +"I can't lose you!" he said. "I _can't_!" + +She did not answer, only sat there with a white set face and her hands +tight clenched in her lap. + +"Where'd you get this idea anyhow?" he burst out again. "I believe +it's that woman doctor! What does she know!" + +"Look here, Morton," said Vivian firmly. "It is not a question of who +told me. The important thing is that it's--true! And I cannot marry +you." + +"But Vivian--" he pleaded, trying to restrain the intensity of his +feeling; "men get over these things. They do, really. It's not so +awful as you seem to think. It's very common. And I'm nearly well. I +was going to wait a year or two yet--to make sure--. Vivian! I'd cut +my hand off before I'd hurt you!" + +There was real agony in his voice, and her heart smote her; but there +was something besides her heart ruling the girl now. + +"I am sorry--I'm very sorry," she said dully. "But I will not marry +you." + +"You'll throw me over--just for that! Oh, Vivian don't--you can't. I'm +no worse than other men. It seems so terrible to you just because +you're so pure and white. It's only what they call--wild oats, you +know. Most men do it." + +She shook her head. + +"And will you punish me--so cruelly--for that? I can't live without +you, Vivian--I won't!" + +"It is not a question of punishing you, Morton," she said gently. "Nor +myself. It is not the sin I am considering. It is the consequences!" + +He felt a something high and implacable in the gentle girl; something +he had never found in her before. He looked at her with despairing +eyes. Her white grace, her stately little ways, her delicate beauty, +had never seemed so desirable. + +"Good God, Vivian. You can't mean it. Give me time. Wait for me. I'll +be straight all the rest of my life--I mean it. I'll be true to you, +absolutely. I'll do anything you say--only don't give me up!" + +She felt old, hundreds of years old, and as remote as far mountains. + +"It isn't anything you can do--in the rest of your life, my poor boy! +It is what you have done--in the first of it!... Oh, Morton! It isn't +right to let us grow up without knowing! You never would have done it +_if_ you'd known--would you? Can't you--can't we--do something +to--stop this awfulness?" + +Her tender heart suffered in the pain she was inflicting, suffered too +in her own loss; for as she faced the thought of final separation she +found that her grief ran back into the far-off years of childhood. But +she had made up her mind with a finality only the more absolute +because it hurt her. Even what he said of possible recovery did not +move her--the very thought of marriage had become impossible. + +"I shall never marry," she added, with a shiver; thinking that he +might derive some comfort from the thought; but he replied with a +bitter derisive little laugh. He did not rise to her appeal to "help +the others." So far in life the happiness of Morton Elder had been his +one engrossing care; and now the unhappiness of Morton Elder assumed +even larger proportions. + +That bright and hallowed future to which he had been looking forward +so earnestly had been suddenly withdrawn from him; his good +resolutions, his "living straight" for the present, were wasted. + +"You women that are so superior," he said, "that'll turn a man down +for things that are over and done with--that he's sorry for and +ashamed of--do you know what you drive a man to! What do you think's +going to become of me if you throw me over!" + +He reached out his hands to her in real agony. "Vivian! I love you! I +can't live without you! I can't be good without you! And you love me a +little--don't you?" + +She did. She could not deny it. She loved to shut her eyes to the +future, to forgive the past, to come to those outstretched arms and +bury everything beneath that one overwhelming phrase--"I love you!" + +But she heard again Dr. Bellair's clear low accusing voice--"Will you +tell that to your crippled children?" + +She rose to her feet. "I cannot help it, Morton. I am sorry--you will +not believe how sorry I am! But I will never marry you." + +A look of swift despair swept over his face. It seemed to darken +visibly as she watched. An expression of bitter hatred came upon him; +of utter recklessness. + +All that the last few months had seemed to bring of higher better +feeling fell from him; and even as she pitied him she thought with a +flicker of fear of how this might have happened--after marriage. + +"Oh, well!" he said, rising to his feet. "I wish you could have made +up your mind sooner, that's all. I'll take myself off now." + +She reached out her hands to him. + +"Morton! Please!--don't go away feeling so hardly! I am--fond of +you--I always was.--Won't you let me help you--to bear it--! Can't we +be--friends?" + +Again he laughed that bitter little laugh. "No, Miss Lane," he said. "We +distinctly cannot. This is good-bye--You won't change your mind--again?" + +She shook her head in silence, and he left her. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THEREAFTER. + + If I do right, though heavens fall, + And end all light and laughter; + Though black the night and ages long, + Bitter the cold--the tempest strong-- + If I do right, and brave it all-- + The sun shall rise thereafter! + + +The inaccessibility of Dr. Hale gave him, in the eye of Mrs. St. +Cloud, all the attractiveness of an unscaled peak to the true mountain +climber. Here was a man, an unattached man, living next door to her, +whom she had not even seen. Her pursuance of what Mr. Skee announced +to his friends to be "one of these Platonic Friendships," did not +falter; neither did her interest in other relations less philosophic. +Mr. Dykeman's precipitate descent from the class of eligibles was more +of a disappointment to her than she would admit even to herself; his +firm, kind friendliness had given a sense of comfort, of achieved +content that her restless spirit missed. + +But Dr. Hale, if he had been before inaccessible, had now become so +heavily fortified, so empanoplied in armor offensive and defensive, +that even Mrs. Pettigrew found it difficult to obtain speech with him. + +That his best friend, so long supporting him in cheerful bachelorhood, +should have thus late laid down his arms, was bitterly resented. That +Mr. Skee, free lance of years standing, and risen victor from several +"stricken fields," should show signs of capitulation, annoyed him +further. Whether these feelings derived their intensity from another, +which he entirely refused to acknowledge, is matter for the +psychologist, and Dr. Hale avoided all psychologic self-examination. + +With the boys he was always a hero. They admired his quiet strength +and the unbroken good nature that was always presented to those about +him, whatever his inner feelings. + +Mr. Peters burst forth to the others one day, in tones of impassioned +admiration. + +"By George, fellows," he said, "you know how nice Doc was last night?" + +"Never saw him when he wasn't," said Archie. + +"Don't interrupt Mr. Peters," drawled Percy. "He's on the brink of a +scientific discovery. Strange how these secrets of nature can lie +unrevealed about us so long--and then suddenly burst upon our ken!" + +Mr. Peters grinned affably. "That's all right, but I maintain my +assertion; whatever the general attraction of our noble host, you'll +admit that on the special occasion of yesterday evening, which we +celebrated to a late hour by innocent games of cards--he was--as +usual--the soul of--of----" + +"Affability?" suggested Percy. + +"Precisely!" Peters admitted. "If there is a well-chosen word which +perfectly describes the manner of Dr. Richard Hale--it is affable! +Thank you, sir, thank you. Well, what I wish to announce, so that you +can all of you get down on your knees at once and worship, is that all +last evening he--had a toothache--a bad toothache!" + +"My word!" said Archie, and remained silent. + +"Oh, come now," Percy protested, "that's against nature. Have a +toothache and not _mention_ it? Not even mention it--without +exaggeration! Why Archimedes couldn't do that! Or--Sandalphon--or any +of them!" + +"How'd you learn the facts, my son? Tell us that." + +"Heard him on the 'phone making an appointment. 'Yes;' 'since noon +yesterday,' 'yes, pretty severe.' '11:30? You can't make it earlier? +All right.' I'm just mentioning it to convince you fellows that you +don't appreciate your opportunities. There was some exceptional Female +once--they said 'to know her was a liberal education.' What would you +call it to live with Dr. Hale?" + +And they called it every fine thing they could think of; for these +boys knew better than anyone else, the effect of that association. + +His patients knew him as wise, gentle, efficient, bringing a sense of +hope and assurance by the mere touch of that strong hand; his +professional associates in the town knew him as a good practitioner +and friend, and wider medical circles, readers of his articles in the +professional press had an even higher opinion of his powers. + +Yet none of these knew Richard Hale. None saw him sitting late in his +office, the pages of his book unturned, his eyes on the red spaces of +the fire. No one was with him on those night tramps that left but an +hour or two of sleep to the long night, and made that sleep irresistible +from self-enforced fatigue. He had left the associations of his youth +and deliberately selected this far-off mountain town to build the life +he chose; and if he found it unsatisfying no one was the wiser. + +His successive relays of boys, young fellows fresh from the East, coming +from year to year and going from year to year as business called them, +could and did give good testimony as to the home side of his character, +however. It was not in nature that they should speculate about him. As +they fell in love and out again with the facility of so many Romeos, +they discoursed among themselves as to his misogyny. + +"He certainly has a grouch on women," they would admit. "That's the +one thing you can't talk to him about--shuts up like a clam. Of +course, he'll let you talk about your own feelings and experiences, +but you might as well talk to the side of a hill. I wonder what did +happen to him?" + +They made no inquiry, however. It was reported that a minister's wife, +a person of determined character, had had the courage of her +inquisitiveness, and asked him once, "Why is it that you have never +married, Dr. Hale?" And that he had replied, "It is owing to my +dislike of the meddlesomeness of women." He lived his own life, +unquestioned, now more markedly withdrawn than ever, coming no more to +The Cottonwoods. + +Even when Morton Elder left, suddenly and without warning, to the +great grief of his aunt and astonishment of his sister, their medical +neighbor still "sulked in his tent"--or at least in his office. + +Morton's departure had but one explanation; it must be that Vivian had +refused him, and she did not deny it. + +"But why, Vivian, why? He has improved so--it was just getting lovely +to see how nice he was getting. And we all thought you were so happy." +Thus the perplexed Susie. And Vivian found herself utterly unable to +explain to that happy little heart, on the brink of marriage, why she +had refused her brother. + +Miss Orella was even harder to satisfy. "It's not as if you were a +foolish changeable young girl, my dear. And you've known Morton all +your life--he was no stranger to you. It breaks my heart, Vivian. +Can't you reconsider?" + +The girl shook her head. + +"I'm awfully sorry, Miss Orella. Please believe that I did it for the +best--and that it was very hard for me, too." + +"But, Vivian! What can be the reason? I don't think you understand +what a beautiful influence you have on the boy. He has improved so, +since he has been here. And he was going to get a position here in +town--he told me so himself--and really settle down. And now he's +_gone_. Just off and away, as he used to be--and I never shall feel +easy about him again." + +Miss Orella was frankly crying; and it wrung the girl's heart to know +the pain she was causing; not only to Morton, and to herself, but to +these others. + +Susie criticised her with frankness. + +"I know you think you are right, Vivian, you always do--you and that +conscience of yours. But I really think you had gone too far to draw +back, Jimmie saw him that night he went away--and he said he looked +awfully. And he really was changed so--beginning to be so thoroughly +nice. Whatever was the matter? I think you ought to tell me, Vivian, +I'm his sister, and--being engaged and all--perhaps I could straighten +it out." + +And she was as nearly angry as her sunny nature allowed, when her +friend refused to give any reason, beyond that she thought it right. + +Her aunt did not criticise, but pleaded. "It's not too late, I'm sure, +Vivian. A word from you would bring him back in a moment. Do speak it, +Vivian--do! Put your pride in your pocket, child, and don't lose a +lifetime's happiness for some foolish quarrel." + +Miss Orella, like Susie, was at present sure that marriage must mean a +lifetime's happiness. And Vivian looked miserably from one to the other +of these loving women-folk, and could not defend herself with the truth. + +Mrs. Pettigrew took up the cudgels for her. She was not going to have +her favorite grandchild thus condemned and keep silence. "Anybody'd +think Vivian had married the man and then run away with another one!" +she said tartly. "Pity if a girl can't change her mind before +marrying--she's held down pretty close afterward. An engagement isn't +a wedding, Orella Elder." + +"But you don't consider the poor boy's feelings in the least, Mrs. +Pettigrew." + +"No, I don't," snapped the old lady. "I consider the poor girl's. I'm +willing to bet as much as you will that his feelings aren't any worse +than hers. If _he'd_ changed his mind and run off and left _her_, I +warrant you two wouldn't have been so hard on him." + +Evading this issue, Miss Orella wiped her eyes, and said: "Heaven +knows where he is now. And I'm afraid he won't write--he never did +write much, and now he's just heartbroken. I don't know as I'd have +seen him at all if I hadn't been awake and heard him rushing +downstairs. You've no idea how he suffers." + +"I don't see as the girl's to blame that he hadn't decency enough to +say good-bye to the aunt that's been a mother to him; or to write to +her, as he ought to. A person don't need to forget _all_ their duty +because they've got the mitten." + +Vivian shrank away from them all. Her heart ached intolerably. +She had not realized how large a part in her life this constant +admiration and attention had become. She missed the outward +agreeableness, and the soft tide of affection, which had risen +more and more warmly about her. From her earliest memories she +had wished for affection--affection deep and continuous, tender +and with full expression. She had been too reserved to show her +feeling, too proud by far to express it, but under that delicate +reticence of hers lay always that deep longing to love and to be +loved wholly. + +Susie had been a comfort always, in her kittenish affection and +caressing ways, but Susie was doubly lost, both in her new absorption +and now in this estrangement. + +Then, to bring pain to Miss Orella, who had been so kind and sweet to +her from earliest childhood, to hurt her so deeply, now, to mingle in +her cup of happiness this grief and anxiety, made the girl suffer +keenly. Jimmie, of course, was able to comfort Susie. He told her it +was no killing matter anyhow, and that Morton would inevitably console +himself elsewhere. "He'll never wear the willow for any girl, my dear. +Don't you worry about him." + +Also, Mr. Dykeman comforted Miss Orella, not only with wise words, but +with his tender sympathy and hopefulness. But no one could comfort +Vivian. + +Even Dr. Bellair seemed to her present sensitiveness an alien, cruel +power. She had come like the angel with the flaming sword to stand +between her and what, now that it was gone, began to look like Paradise. + +She quite forgot that she had always shrunk from Morton when he made +love too warmly, that she had been far from wholly pleased with him +when he made his appearance there, that their engagement, so far as +they had one, was tentative--"sometime, when I am good enough" not +having arrived. The unreasoning voice of the woman's nature within her +had answered, though but partially, to the deep call of the man's; and +now she missed more than she would admit to herself the tenderness +that was gone. + +She had her intervals of sharp withdrawal from the memory of that +tenderness, of deep thanksgiving for her escape; but fear of a danger +only prophesied, does not obliterate memory of joys experienced. + +Her grandmother watched her carefully, saying little. She forced no +confidence, made no comment, was not obtrusively affectionate, but +formed a definite decision and conveyed it clearly to Dr. Bellair. + +"Look here, Jane Bellair, you've upset Vivian's dish, and quite right; +it's a good thing you did, and I don't know as you could have done it +easier." + +"I couldn't have done it harder--that I know of," the doctor answered. +"I'd sooner operate on a baby--without an anaesthetic--than tell a +thing like that--to a girl like that. But it had to be done; and +nobody else would." + +"You did perfectly right. I'm thankful enough, I promise you; if you +hadn't I should have had to--and goodness knows what a mess I'd have +made. But look here, the girl's going all to pieces. Now we've got to +do something for her, and do it quick." + +"I know that well enough," answered her friend, "and I set about it +even before I made the incision. You've seen that little building +going up on the corner of High and Stone Streets?" + +"That pretty little thing with the grass and flowers round it?" + +"Yes--they got the flowers growing while the decorators finished +inside. It's a first-rate little kindergarten. I've got a list of +scholars all arranged for, and am going to pop the girl into it so +fast she can't refuse. Not that I think she will." + +"Who did it?" demanded Mrs. Pettigrew. "That man Skee?" + +"Mr. Skee has had something to do with it," replied the doctor, +guardedly; "but he doesn't want his name mentioned." + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + +Vivian made no objection, though she was too listless to take up work +with enthusiasm. + +As a prescription nothing could have worked better. Enough small +pupils were collected to pay the rent of the pretty place, and leave a +modest income for her. + +Dr. Bellair gathered together the mothers and aunts for a series of +afternoon talks in the convenient building, Vivian assisting, and +roused much interest among them. The loving touch of little hands, the +pleasure of seeing the gay contentment of her well-ordered charges, +began to lighten the girl's heart at last. They grew so fond of her +that the mothers were jealous, but she played with and taught them so +wisely, and the youngsters were so much improved by it, that no parent +withdrew her darling. + +Further than that, the new interest, the necessary reading and study, +above all the study hours of occupation acted most beneficently, +slowly, but surely steadying the nerves and comforting the heart. + +There is a telling Oriental phrase describing sorrow: "And the whole +world became strait unto him." The sense of final closing down of +life, of a dull, long, narrow path between her and the grave, which +had so oppressed the girl's spirit, now changed rapidly. Here was room +to love at least, and she radiated a happy and unselfish affection +among the little ones. Here was love in return, very sweet and honest, +if shallow. Here was work; something to do, something to think about; +both in her hours with the children and those spent in study. Her work +took her out of the house, too; away from Susie and her aunt, with +their happy chatter and endless white needlework, and the gleeful +examination of presents. + +Never before had she known the blessed relief of another place to go to. + +When she left The Cottonwoods, as early as possible, and placed her +key in the door of the little gray house sitting among the roses, she +felt a distinct lightening of the heart. This was hers. Not her +father's, not Miss Elder's; not anybody's but hers--as long as she +could earn the rent. + +She paid her board, too, in spite of deep and pained remonstrance, +forcing Miss Elder to accept it by the ultimatum "would you rather +make me go away and board somewhere else?" She could not accept favors +where she was condemned. + +This, too, gave her a feeling hitherto inexperienced, deep and +inspiring. She began to hold her graceful head insensibly higher, to +walk with a freer step. Life was not ended after all, though Love had +gone. She might not be happy, but she might be useful and independent. + +Then Dr. Bellair, who had by quiet friendliness and wise waiting, +regained much of her former place with the girl, asked her to +undertake, as a special favor to her, the care of a class of rather +delicate children and young girls, in physical culture. + +"Of course, Johanna Johnson is perfectly reliable and an excellent +teacher. I don't know a better; but their mothers will feel easier if +there's someone they know on the spot. You keep order and see that they +don't overdo. You'll have to go through their little exercises with +them, you see. I can't pay you anything for it; but it's only part of +two afternoons in the week--and it won't hurt you at any rate." + +Vivian was more than glad to do something for the doctor, as well as to +extend her friendship among older children; also glad of anything to +further fill her time. To be alone and idle was to think and suffer. + +Mrs. Pettigrew came in with Dr. Bellair one afternoon to watch the +exercises. + +"I don't see but what Vivian does the tricks as well as any of them," +said her grandmother. + +"She does beautifully," the doctor answered. "And her influence with +the children is just what they needed. You see there's no romping and +foolishness, and she sets the pace--starts them off when they're shy. +I'm extremely obliged to her." + +Mrs. Pettigrew watched Vivian's rhythmic movements, her erect carriage +and swinging step, her warm color and sparkling eyes, as she led the +line of happy youngsters and then turned upon the doctor. + +"Huh!" she said. + +At Susie's wedding, her childhood's friend was so far forgiven as to +be chief bridesmaid, but seeing the happiness before her opened again +the gates of her own pain. + +When it was all over, and the glad young things were safely despatched +upon their ribboned way, when all the guests had gone, when Mrs. St. +Cloud felt the need of air and with the ever-gallant Mr. Skee set +forth in search of it, when Dr. Bellair had returned to her patients, +and Miss Orella to her own parlor, and was there consoled by Mr. +Dykeman for the loss of her niece, then Vivian went to her room--all +hers now, looking strangely large and empty--and set down among the +drifts of white tissue paper and scattered pins--alone. + +She sank down on the bed, weary and sad at heart, for an hour of full +surrender long refused; meaning for once to let her grief have its +full way with her. But, just as on the night of her hurried engagement +she had been unable to taste to the full the happiness expected, so +now, surrender as she might, she could not feel the intensity of +expected pain. + +She was lonely, unquestionably. She faced a lonely life. Six long, +heavy months had passed since she had made her decision. + +"I am nearly twenty-seven now," she thought, resignedly. "I shall +never marry," and she felt a little shiver of the horror of last year. + +But, having got this far in melancholy contemplation, her mind refused +to dwell upon it, but filled in spite of her with visions of merry +little ones, prancing in wavering circles, and singing their more +wavering songs. She was lonely and a single woman--but she had +something to do; and far more power to do it, more interest, +enthusiasm, and skill, than at the season's beginning. + +She thought of Morton--of what little they had heard since his hurried +departure. He had gone farther West; they had heard of him in San +Francisco, they had heard of him, after some months, in the Klondike +region, then they had heard no more. He did not write. It seemed hard to +so deeply hurt his aunt for what was no fault of hers; but Morton had +never considered her feelings very deeply, his bitter anger, his +hopelessness, his desperate disappointment, blinding him to any pain +but his own. + +But her thoughts of him failed to rouse any keen distinctive sorrow. +They rambled backward and forward, from the boy who had been such a +trouble to his aunt, such a continuous disappointment and mortification; +to the man whose wooing, looked back upon at this distance, seemed far +less attractive to the memory than it had been at the time. Even his +honest attempt at improvement gave her but a feeling of pity, and though +pity is akin to love it is not always a near relation. + +From her unresisting descent into wells of pain, which proved +unexpectedly shallow, the girl arose presently and quietly set to work +arranging the room in its new capacity as hers only. + +From black and bitter agony to the gray tastelessness of her present +life was not an exciting change, but Vivian had more power in quiet +endurance than in immediate resistance, and set herself now in earnest +to fulfill the tasks before her. + +This was March. She was planning an extension of her classes, the +employment of an assistant. Her work was appreciated, her school +increased. Patiently and steadily she faced her task, and found a +growing comfort in it. When summer came, Dr. Bellair again begged her +to help out in the plan of a girls' camp she was developing. + +This was new work for Vivian, but her season in Mrs. Johnson's +gymnastic class had given her a fresh interest in her own body and the +use of it. That stalwart instructress, a large-boned, calm-eyed +Swedish woman, was to be the manager of the camp, and Vivian this +time, with a small salary attached, was to act as assistant. + +"It's a wonderful thing the way people take to these camps," said Dr. +Bellair. "They are springing up everywhere. Magnificent for children +and young people." + +"It is a wonderful thing to me," observed Mrs. Pettigrew. "You go to a +wild place that costs no rent; you run a summer hotel without any +accommodations; you get a lot of parents to pay handsomely for letting +their children be uncomfortable--and there you are." + +"They are not uncomfortable!" protested her friend, a little ruffled. +"They like it. And besides liking it, it's good for them. It's +precisely the roughing it that does them good." + +It did do them good; the group of young women and girls who went to +the high-lying mountain lake where Dr. Bellair had bought a piece of +wild, rough country for her own future use, and none of them profited +by it more than Vivian. + +She had been, from time to time, to decorous "shore places," where one +could do nothing but swim and lie on the sand; or to the "mountains," +those trim, green, modest, pretty-picture mountains, of which New +England is so proud; but she had never before been in an untouched +wilderness. + +Often in the earliest dawn she would rise from the springy, odorous +bed of balsam boughs and slip out alone for her morning swim. A run +through the pines to a little rocky cape, with a small cave she knew, +and to glide, naked, into that glass-smooth water, warmer than the +sunless air, and swim out softly, silently, making hardly a ripple, +turn on her back and lie there--alone with the sky--this brought +peace to her heart. She felt so free from every tie to earth, so like +a soul in space, floating there with the clean, dark water beneath +her, and the clear, bright heaven above her; and when the pale glow in +the east brightened to saffron, warmed to rose, burst into a level +blaze of gold, the lake laughed in the light, and Vivian laughed, too, +in pure joy of being alive and out in all that glittering beauty. + +She tramped the hills with the girls; picked heaping pails of wild +berries, learned to cook in primitive fashion, slept as she had never +slept in her life, from dark to dawn, grew brown and hungry and +cheerful. + +After all, twenty-seven was not an old age. + +She came back at the summer-end, and Dr. Bellair clapped her warmly on +the shoulder, declaring, "I'm proud of you, Vivian! Simply proud of +you!" + +Her grandmother, after a judicious embrace, held her at arm's length +and examined her critically. + +"I don't see but what you've stood it first rate," she admitted. "And +if you _like_ that color--why, you certainly are looking well." + +She was well, and began her second year of teaching with a serene +spirit. + +In all this time of slow rebuilding Vivian would not have been left +comfortless if masculine admiration could have pleased her. The young +men at The Cottonwoods, now undistracted by Susie's gay presence, +concentrated much devotion upon Vivian, as did also the youths across +the way. She turned from them all, gently, but with absolute decision. + +Among her most faithful devotees was young Percy Watson, who loved her +almost as much as he loved Dr. Hale, and could never understand, in his +guileless, boyish heart, why neither of them would talk about the other. + +They did not forbid his talking, however, and the earnest youth, +sitting in the quiet parlor at The Cottonwoods, would free his heart +to Vivian about how the doctor worked too hard--sat up all hours to +study--didn't give himself any rest--nor any fun. + +"He'll break down some time--I tell him so. It's not natural for any +man to work that way, and I don't see any real need of it. He says +he's working on a book--some big medical book, I suppose; but what's +the hurry? I wish you'd have him over here oftener, and make him amuse +himself a little, Miss Vivian." + +"Dr. Hale is quite welcome to come at any time--he knows that," said +she. + +Again the candid Percy, sitting on the doctor's shadowy piazza, poured +out his devoted admiration for her to his silent host. + +"She's the finest woman I ever knew!" the boy would say. "She's so +beautiful and so clever, and so pleasant to everybody. She's +_square_--like a man. And she's kind--like a woman, only kinder; a +sort of motherliness about her. I don't see how she ever lived so long +without being married. I'd marry her in a minute if I was good +enough--and if she'd have me." + +Dr. Hale tousled the ears of Balzac, the big, brown dog whose head was +so often on his knee, and said nothing. He had not seen the girl since +that night by the arbor. + +Later in the season he learned, perforce, to know her better, and to +admire her more. + +Susie's baby came with the new year, and brought danger and anxiety. +They hardly hoped to save the life of the child. The little mother was +long unable to leave her bed. Since her aunt was not there, but gone, +as Mrs. Dykeman, on an extended tour--"part business and part +honeymoon," her husband told her--and since Mrs. Pettigrew now ruled +alone at The Cottonwoods, with every evidence of ability and +enjoyment, Vivian promptly installed herself in the Saunders home, as +general housekeeper and nurse. + +She was glad then of her strength, and used it royally, comforting the +wretched Jim, keeping up Susie's spirits, and mothering the frail tiny +baby with exquisite devotion. + +Day after day the doctor saw her, sweet and strong and patient, +leaving her school to the assistant, regardless of losses, showing the +virtues he admired most in women. + +He made his calls as short as possible; but even so, Vivian could not +but note how his sternness gave way to brusque good cheer for the sick +mother, and to a lovely gentleness with the child. + +When that siege was over and the girl returned to her own work, she +carried pleasant pictures in her mind, and began to wonder, as had so +many others, why this man, who seemed so fitted to enjoy a family, had +none. + +She missed his daily call, and wondered further why he avoided them +more assiduously than at first. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +ACHIEVEMENTS. + + There are some folk born to beauty, + And some to plenteous gold, + Some who are proud of being young, + Some proud of being old. + + Some who are glad of happy love, + Enduring, deep and true, + And some who thoroughly enjoy + The little things they do. + + +Upon all this Grandma Pettigrew cast an observant eye, and meditated +sagely thereupon. Coming to a decision, she first took a course of +reading in some of Dr. Bellair's big books, and then developed a +series of perplexing symptoms, not of a too poignant or perilous +nature, that took her to Dr. Hale's office frequently. + +"You haven't repudiated Dr. Bellair, have you?" he asked her. + +"I have never consulted Jane Bellair as a physician," she replied, +"though I esteem her much as a friend." + +The old lady's company was always welcome to him; he liked her +penetrating eye, her close-lipped, sharp remarks, and appreciated the +real kindness of her heart. + +If he had known how closely she was peering into the locked recesses +of his own, and how much she saw there, he would perhaps have avoided +her as he did Vivian, and if he had known further that this ingenious +old lady, pursuing long genealogical discussions with him, had finally +unearthed a mutual old-time friend, and had forthwith started a +correspondence with that friend, based on this common acquaintance in +Carston, he might have left that city. + +The old-time friend, baited by Mrs. Pettigrew's innocent comment on Dr. +Hale's persistence in single blessedness, poured forth what she knew of +the cause with no more embellishment than time is sure to give. + +"I know why he won't marry," wrote she. "He had reason good to begin +with, but I never dreamed he'd be obstinate enough to keep it up +sixteen years. When he was a boy in college here I knew him well--he +was a splendid fellow, one of the very finest. But he fell desperately +in love with that beautiful Mrs. James--don't you remember about her? +She married a St. Cloud later, and he left her, I think. She was as +lovely as a cameo--and as hard and flat. That woman was the saintliest +thing that ever breathed. She wouldn't live with her husband because +he had done something wrong; she wouldn't get a divorce, nor let him, +because that was wicked--and she always had a string of boys round +her, and talked about the moral influence she had on them. + +"Young Hale worshipped her--simply worshipped her--and she let him. +She let them all. She had that much that was god-like about her--she +loved incense. You need not ask for particulars. She was far too +'particular' for that. But one light-headed chap went and drowned +himself--that was all hushed up, of course, but some of us felt pretty +sure why. He was a half-brother to Dick Hale, and Dick was awfully +fond of him. Then he turned hard and hateful all at once--used to talk +horrid about women. He kept straight enough--that's easy for a +mysogynist, and studying medicine didn't help him any--doctors and +ministers know too much about women. So there you are. But I'm +astonished to hear he's never gotten over it; he always was +obstinate--it's his only fault. They say he swore never to marry--if +he did, that accounts. Do give my regards if you see him again." + +Mrs. Pettigrew considered long and deeply over this information, as she +slowly produced a jersey striped with Roman vividness. It was noticeable +in this new life in Carston that Mrs. Pettigrew's knitted jackets had +grown steadily brighter in hue from month to month. Whereas, in +Bainville, purple and brown were the high lights, and black, slate and +navy blue the main colors; now her worsteds were as a painter's palette, +and the result not only cheered, but bade fair to inebriate. + +"A pig-headed man," she said to herself, as her needle prodded +steadily in and out; "a pig-headed man, with a pig-headedness of +sixteen years' standing. His hair must 'a turned gray from the strain +of it. And there's Vivian, biddin' fair to be an old maid after all. +What on _earth_!" She appeared to have forgotten that marriages are +made in heaven, or to disregard that saying. "The Lord helps those +that help themselves," was one of her favorite mottoes. "And much more +those that help other people!" she used to add. + +Flitting in and out of Dr. Hale's at all hours, she noted that he had +a fondness for music, with a phenomenal incapacity to produce any. He +encouraged his boys to play on any and every instrument the town +afforded, and to sing, whether they could or not; and seemed never to +weary of their attempts, though far from satisfied with the product. + +"Huh!" said Mrs. Pettigrew. + +Vivian could play, "Well enough to know better," she said, and seldom +touched the piano. She had a deep, full, contralto voice, and a fair +degree of training. But she would never make music unless she felt +like it--and in this busy life, with so many people about her, she had +always refused. + +Grandma meditated. + +She selected an evening when most of the boarders were out at some +entertainment, and selfishly begged Vivian to stay at home with +her--said she was feeling badly and wanted company. Grandma so seldom +wanted anything that Vivian readily acquiesced; in fact, she was quite +worried about her, and asked Dr. Bellair if she thought anything was +the matter. + +"She has seemed more quiet lately," said that astute lady, "and I've +noticed her going in to Dr. Hale's during office hours. But perhaps +it's only to visit with him." + +"Are you in any pain, Grandma?" asked the girl, affectionately. +"You're not sick, are you?" + +"O, no--I'm not sick," said the old lady, stoutly. "I'm just--well, I +felt sort of lonesome to-night--perhaps I'm homesick." + +As she had never shown the faintest sign of any feeling for their +deserted home, except caustic criticism and unfavorable comparison, +Vivian rather questioned this theory, but she began to think there was +something in it when her grandmother, sitting by the window in the +spring twilight, began to talk of how this time of year always made +her think of her girlhood. + +"Time for the March peepers at home. It's early here, and no peepers +anywhere that I've heard. 'Bout this time we'd be going to evening +meeting. Seems as if I could hear that little old organ--and the +singing!" + +"Hadn't I better shut that window," asked Vivian. "Won't you get cold?" + +"No, indeed," said her grandmother, promptly. "I'm plenty warm--I've +got this little shawl around me. And it's so soft and pleasant out." + +It was soft and pleasant, a delicious May-like night in March, full of +spring scents and hints of coming flowers. On the dark piazza across the +way she could make out a still figure sitting alone, and the thump of +Balzac's heel as he struggled with his intimate enemies told her who it +was. + +"Come Ye Disconsolate," she began to hum, most erroneously. "How does +that go, Vivian? I was always fond of it, even if I can't sing any +more'n a peacock." + +Vivian hummed it and gave the words in a low voice. + +"That's good!" said the old lady. "I declare, I'm kinder hungry for +some of those old hymns. I wish you'd play me some of 'em, Vivian." + +So Vivian, glad to please her, woke the yellow keys to softer music +than they were accustomed to, and presently her rich, low voice, sure, +easy, full of quiet feeling, flowed out on the soft night air. + +Grandma was not long content with the hymns. "I want some of those +old-fashioned songs--you used to know a lot of 'em. Can't you do that +'Kerry Dance' of Molloy's, and 'Twickenham Ferry'--and 'Lauriger +Horatius?'" + +Vivian gave her those, and many another, Scotch ballads, English songs +and German Lieder--glad to please her grandmother so easily, and quite +unconscious of a dark figure which had crossed the street and come +silently to sit on the farthest corner of their piazza. + +Grandma, meanwhile, watched him, and Vivian as well, and then, with the +most unsuspected suddenness, took to her bed. Sciatica, she said. An +intermittent pain that came upon her so suddenly she couldn't stand up. +She felt much better lying down. And Dr. Hale must attend her +unceasingly. + +This unlooked for overthrow of the phenomenally active old lady was a +great blow to Mr. Skee; he showed real concern and begged to be +allowed to see her. + +"Why not?" said Mrs. Pettigrew. "It's nothing catching." + +She lay, high-pillowed, as stiff and well arranged as a Knight Templar +on a tombstone, arrayed for the occasion in a most decorative little +dressing sack and ribbony night-cap. + +"Why, ma'am," said Mr. Skee, "it's highly becomin' to you to be sick. +It leads me to hope it's nothin' serious." + +She regarded him enigmatically. "Is Dr. Hale out there, or Vivian?" +she inquired in a low voice. + +"No, ma'am--they ain't," he replied, after a glance in the next room. + +Then he bent a penetrating eye upon her. She met it unflinchingly, but +as his smile appeared and grew, its limitless widening spread +contagion, and her calm front was broken. + +"Elmer Skee," said she, with sudden fury, "you hold your tongue!" + +"Ma'am!" he replied, "I have said nothin'--and I don't intend to. But +if the throne of Europe was occupied by you, Mrs. Pettigrew, we would +have a better managed world." + +He proved a most agreeable and steady visitor during this period of +confinement, and gave her full accounts of all that went on outside, +with occasional irrelevant bursts of merriment which no rebuke from +Mrs. Pettigrew seemed wholly to check. + +He regaled her with accounts of his continuous consultations with Mrs. +St. Cloud, and the wisdom and good taste with which she invariably +advised him. + +"Don't you admire a Platonic Friendship, Mrs. Pettigrew?" + +"I do not!" said the old lady, sharply. "And what's more I don't +believe you do." + +"Well, ma'am," he answered, swaying backward and forward on the hind +legs of his chair, "there are moments when I confess it looks +improbable." + +Mrs. Pettigrew cocked her head on one side and turned a gimlet eye +upon him. "Look here, Elmer Skee," she said suddenly, "how much money +have you really got?" + +He brought down his chair on four legs and regarded her for a few +moments, his smile widening slowly. "Well, ma'am, if I live through +the necessary expenses involved on my present undertaking, I shall +have about two thousand a year--if rents are steady." + +"Which I judge you do not wish to be known?" + +"If there's one thing more than another I have always admired in you, +ma'am, it is the excellence of your judgment. In it I have absolute +confidence." + +Mrs. St. Cloud had some time since summoned Dr. Hale to her side for a +severe headache, but he had merely sent word that his time was fully +occupied, and recommended Dr. Bellair. + +Now, observing Mrs. Pettigrew's tactics, the fair invalid resolved to +take the bull by the horns and go herself to his office. She found him +easily enough. He lifted his eyes as she entered, rose and stood with +folded arms regarding her silently. The tall, heavy figure, the full +beard, the glasses, confused even her excellent memory. After all it was +many years since they had met, and he had been but one of a multitude. + +She was all sweetness and gentle apology for forcing herself upon him, +but really she had a little prejudice against women doctors--his +reputation was so great--he was so temptingly near--she was in such +pain--she had such perfect confidence in him-- + +He sat down quietly and listened, watching her from under his bent +brows. Her eyes were dropped, her voice very weak and appealing; her +words most perfectly chosen. + +"I have told you," he said at length, "that I never treat women for +their petty ailments, if I can avoid it." + +She shook her head in grieved acceptance, and lifted large eyes for +one of those penetrating sympathetic glances so frequently successful. + +"How you must have suffered!" she said. + +"I have," he replied grimly. "I have suffered a long time from having +my eyes opened too suddenly to the brainless cruelty of women, Mrs. +James." + +She looked at him again, searchingly, and gave a little cry. "Dick +Hale!" she said. + +"Yes, Dick Hale. Brother to poor little Joe Medway, whose foolish +young heart you broke, among others; whose death you are responsible +for." + +She was looking at him with widening wet eyes. "Ah! If you only knew +how I, too, have suffered over that!" she said. "I was scarce more +than a girl myself, then. I was careless, not heartless. No one knew +what pain I was bearing, then. I liked the admiration of those nice +boys--I never realized any of them would take it seriously. That has +been a heavy shadow on my life, Dr. Hale--the fear that I was the +thoughtless cause of that terrible thing. And you have never forgiven +me. I do not wonder." + +He was looking at her in grim silence again, wishing he had not +spoken. + +"So that is why you have never been to The Cottonwoods since I came," +she pursued. "And I am responsible for all your loneliness. O, how +dreadful!" + +Again he rose to his feet. + +"No, madam, you mistake. You were responsible for my brother's death, +and for a bitter awakening on my part, but you are in no way +responsible for my attitude since. That is wholly due to myself. Allow +me again to recommend Dr. Jane Bellair, an excellent physician and +even more accessible." + +He held the door for her, and she went out, not wholly dissatisfied +with her visit. She would have been far more displeased could she have +followed his thoughts afterward. + +"What a Consummate Ass I have been all my life!" he was meditating. +"Because I met this particular type of sex parasite, to deliberately +go sour--and forego all chance of happiness. Like a silly girl. A +fool girl who says, 'I will never marry!' just because of some quarrel +* * * But the girl never keeps her word. A man must." + +The days were long to Vivian now, and dragged a little, for all her +industry. + +Mrs. St. Cloud tried to revive their former intimacy, but the girl could +not renew it on the same basis. She, too, had sympathized with Mr. +Dykeman, and now sympathized somewhat with Mr. Skee. But since that +worthy man still volubly discoursed on Platonism, and his fair friend +openly agreed in this view, there seemed no real ground for distress. + +Mrs. Pettigrew remained ailing and rather captious. She had a +telephone put at her bedside, and ran her household affairs +efficiently, with Vivian as lieutenant, and the ever-faithful Jeanne +to uphold the honor of the cuisine. Also she could consult her +physician, and demanded his presence at all hours. + +He openly ignored Mrs. St. Cloud now, who met his rude treatment with +secret, uncomplaining patience. + +Vivian spoke of this. "I do not see why he need be so rude, Grandma. He +may hate women, but I don't see why he should treat her so shamefully." + +"Well, I do," replied the invalid, "and what's more I'm going to show +you; I've always disliked that woman, and now I know why. I'd turn +her out of the house if it wasn't for Elmer Skee. That man's as good +as gold under all his foolishness, and if he can get any satisfaction +out of that meringue he's welcome. Dr. Hale doesn't hate women, child, +but a woman broke his heart once--and then he made an idiot of himself +by vowing never to marry." + +She showed her friend's letter, and Vivian read it with rising color. +"O, Grandma! Why that's worse than I ever thought--even after what Dr. +Bellair told us. And it was his brother! No wonder he's so fond of +boys. He tries to warn them, I suppose." + +"Yes, and the worst of it is that he's really got over his grouch; and +he's in love--but tied down by that foolish oath, poor man." + +"Is he, Grandma? How do you know? With whom?" + +"You dear, blind child!" said the old lady, "with you, of course. Has +been ever since we came." + +The girl sat silent, a strange feeling of joy rising in her heart, as +she reviewed the events of the last two years. So that was why he +would not stay that night. And that was why. "No wonder he wouldn't +come here!" she said at length. "It's on account of that woman. But +why did he change?" + +"Because she went over there to see him. He wouldn't come to her. I +heard her 'phone to him one evening." The old lady chuckled. "So she +marched herself over there--I saw her, and I guess she got her +needin's. She didn't stay long. And his light burned till morning." + +"Do you think he cares for her, still?" + +"Cares for her!" The old lady fairly snorted her derision. "He can't +bear the sight of her--treats her as if she wasn't there. No, indeed. +If he did she'd have him fast enough, now. Well! I suppose he'll +repent of that foolishness of his all the days of his life--and stick +it out! Poor man." + +Mrs. Pettigrew sighed, and Vivian echoed the sigh. She began to +observe Dr. Hale with new eyes; to study little matters of tone and +manner--and could not deny her grandmother's statement. Nor would she +admit it--yet. + +The old lady seemed weaker and more irritable, but positively forbade +any word of this being sent to her family. + +"There's nothing on earth ails me," she said. "Dr. Hale says there's +not a thing the matter that he can see--that if I'd only eat more I'd +get stronger. I'll be all right soon, my dear. I'll get my appetite +and get well, I have faith to believe." + +She insisted on his coming over in the evening, when not too busy, and +staying till she dropped asleep, and he seemed strangely willing to +humor her; sitting for hours in the quiet parlor, while Vivian played +softly, and sang her low-toned hymns. + +So sitting, one still evening, when for some time no fretful "not so +loud" had come from the next room, he turned suddenly to Vivian and +asked, almost roughly--"Do you hold a promise binding?--an oath, a +vow--to oneself?" + +She met his eyes, saw the deep pain there, the long combat, the +irrepressible hope and longing. + +"Did you swear to keep your oath secret?" she asked. + +"Why, no," he said, "I did not. I will tell you. I did not swear never +to tell a woman I loved her. I never dreamed I should love again. +Vivian, I was fool enough to love a shallow, cruel woman, once, and +nearly broke my heart in consequence. That was long years ago. I have +never cared for a woman since--till I met you. And now I must pay +double for that boy folly." + +He came to her and took her hand. + +"I love you," he said, his tense grip hurting her. "I shall love you as +long as I live--day and night--forever! You shall know that at any +rate!" + +She could not raise her eyes. A rich bright color rose to the soft +border of her hair. He caught her face in his hands and made her look +at him; saw those dark, brilliant eyes softened, tear-filled, asking, +and turned sharply away with a muffled cry. + +"I have taken a solemn oath," he said in a strained, hard voice, +"never to ask a woman to marry me." + +He heard a little gasping laugh, and turned upon her. She stood there +smiling, her hands reached out to him. + +"You don't have to," she said. + + * * * * * + +A long time later, upon their happy stillness broke a faint voice from +the other room: + +"Vivian, I think if you'd bring me some bread and butter--and a cup of +tea--and some cold beef and a piece of pie--I could eat it." + + * * * * * + +Upon the rapid and complete recovery of her grandmother's health, and +the announcement of Vivian's engagement, Mr. and Mrs. Lane decided to +make a visit to their distant mother and daughter, hoping as well that +Mr. Lane's cough might be better for a visit in that altitude. Mr. and +Mrs. Dykeman also sent word of their immediate return. + +Jeanne, using subtle powers of suggestion, caused Mrs. Pettigrew to +decide upon giving a dinner, in honor of these events. There was the +betrothed couple, there were the honored guests; there were Jimmie and +Susie, with or without the baby; there were the Dykemans; there was +Dr. Bellair, of course; there was Mr. Skee, an even number. + +"I'm sorry to spoil that table, but I've got to take in Mrs. St. +Cloud," said the old lady. + +"O, Grandma! Why! It'll spoil it for Dick." + +"Huh!" said her grandmother. "He's so happy you couldn't spoil it with +a mummy. If I don't ask her it'll spoil it for Mr. Skee." + +So Mrs. St. Cloud made an eleventh at the feast, and neither Mr. +Dykeman nor Vivian could find it in their happy hearts to care. + +Mr. Skee arose, looking unusually tall and shapely in immaculate +every-day dress, his well-brushed hair curling vigorously around the +little bald spots; his smile wide and benevolent. + +"Ladies and Gentlemen, both Domestic and Foreign, Friends and +Fellowtownsmen and Women--Ladies, God Bless 'em; also Children, if +any: I feel friendly enough to-night to include the beasts of the +fields--but such would be inappropriate at this convivial board--among +these convivial boarders. + +"This is an occasion of great rejoicing. We have many things to +rejoice over, both great _and_ small. We have our healths; all of us, +apparently. We are experiencing the joys of reunion--in the matter of +visiting parents that is, and long absent daughters. + +"We have also the Return of the Native, in the shape of my old friend +Andy--now become a Benedict--and seeming to enjoy it. About this same +Andy I have a piece of news to give you which will cause you +astonishment and gratification, but which involves me in a profuse +apology--a most sincere and general apology. + +"You know how a year or more ago it was put about in this town that +Andrew Dykeman was a ruined man?" Mrs. St. Cloud darted a swift glance +at Mr. Dykeman, but his eyes rested calmly on his wife; then at Mr. +Skee--but he was pursuing his remorseful way. + +"I do not wish to blame my friend Andy for his reticence--but he +certainly did exhibit reticence on this occasion--to beat the band! He +never contradicted this rumor--not once. _He_ just went about looking +kind o' down in the mouth for some reason or other, and when for the +sake o' Auld Lang Syne I offered him a job in my office--the cuss took +it! I won't call this deceitful, but it sure was reticent to a degree. + +"Well, Ladies--and Gentlemen--the best of us are liable to mistakes, +and I have to admit--I am glad to humble myself and make this public +admission--I was entirely in error in this matter. + +"It wasn't so. There was nothing in it. It was rumor, pure and simple. +Andy Dykeman never lost no mine, it appears; or else he had another up +his sleeve concealed from his best friends. Anyhow, the facts are +these; not only that A. Dykeman as he sits before you is a prosperous +and wealthy citizen, but that he has been, for these ten years back, +and we were all misled by a mixture of rumor and reticence. If he has +concealed these facts from the wife of his bosom I submit that that is +carrying reticence too far!" Again Mrs. St. Cloud sent a swift glance +at the reticent one, and again caught only his tender apologetic look +toward his wife, and her utter amazement. + +Mr. Dykeman rose to his feet. + +"I make no apologies for interrupting my friend," he said. "It is +necessary at times. He at least can never be accused of reticence. +Neither do I make apologies for letting rumor take its course--a +course often interesting to observe. But I do apologize--in this +heartfelt and public manner, to my wife, for marrying her under false +pretenses. But any of you gentlemen who have ever had any experience +in the attitude of," he hesitated mercifully, and said, "the World, +toward a man with money, may understand what it meant to me, after +many years of bachelorhood, to find a heart that not only loved me for +myself alone, but absolutely loved me better because I'd lost my +money--or she thought I had. I have hated to break the charm. But now +my unreticent friend here has stated the facts, and I make my +confession. Will you forgive me, Orella?" + +"Speech! Speech!" cried Mr. Skee. But Mrs. Dykeman could not be +persuaded to do anything but blush and smile and squeeze her husband's +hand under the table, and Mr. Skee arose once more. + +"This revelation being accomplished," he continued cheerfully; "and no +one any the worse for it, as I see," he was not looking in the +direction of Mrs. St. Cloud, whose slippered foot beat softly under +the table, though her face wore its usual sweet expression, possibly a +trifle strained; "I now proceed to a proclamation of that happy event +to celebrate which we are here gathered together. I allude to the +Betrothal of Our Esteemed Friend, Dr. Richard Hale, and the Fairest of +the Fair! Regarding the Fair, we think he has chosen well. But +regarding Dick Hale, his good fortune is so clear, so evidently +undeserved, and his pride and enjoyment thereof so ostentatious, as to +leave us some leeway to make remarks. + +"Natural remarks, irresistible remarks, as you might say, and not +intended to be acrimonious. Namely, such as these: It's a long lane +that has no turning; There's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip; +The worm will turn; The pitcher that goes too often to the well gets +broken at last; Better Late than Never. And so on and so forth. Any +other gentleman like to make remarks on this topic?" + +Dr. Hale rose, towering to his feet. + +"I think I'd better make them," he said. "No one else could so fully, +so heartily, with such perfect knowledge point out how many kinds of a +fool I've been for all these years. And yet of them all there are only +two that I regret--this last two in which if I had been wiser, perhaps +I might have found my happiness sooner. As that cannot be proven, +however, I will content myself with the general acknowledgment that +Bachelors are Misguided Bats, I myself having long been the worst +instance; women, in general, are to be loved and honored; and that I +am proud and glad to accept your congratulations because the sweetest +and noblest woman in the world has honored me with her love." + +"I never dreamed you could put so many words together, Doc--and really +make sense!" said Mr. Skee, genially, as he rose once more. "You +certainly show a proper spirit at last, and all is forgiven. But now, +my friends; now if your attention is not exhausted, I have yet another +Event to confide to you." + +Mr. and Mrs. Lane wore an aspect of polite interest. Susie and Jim +looked at each other with a sad but resigned expression. So did Mrs. +Dykeman and her husband. Vivian's hand was in her lover's and she +could not look unhappy, but they, too, deprecated this last +announcement, only too well anticipated. Only Mrs. St. Cloud, her fair +face bowed in gentle confusion, showed anticipating pleasure. + +Mr. Skee waved his hand toward her with a large and graceful gesture. + +"You must all of you have noticed the amount of Platonic Friendship +which has been going on for some time between my undeserving self and +this lovely lady here. Among so many lovely ladies perhaps I'd better +specify that I refer to the one on my left. + +"What she has been to me, in my lonely old age, none of you perhaps +realize." He wore an expression as of one long exiled, knowing no one +who could speak his language. + +"She has been my guide, counsellor and friend; she has assisted me +with advice most wise and judicious; she has not interfered with my +habits, but has allowed me to enjoy life in my own way, with the +added attraction of her companionship. + +"Now, I dare say, there may have been some of you who have questioned +my assertion that this friendship was purely Platonic. Perhaps even +the lady herself, knowing the heart of man, may have doubted if my +feeling toward her was really friendship." + +Mr. Skee turned his head a little to one side and regarded her with a +tender inquiring smile. + +To this she responded sweetly: "Why no, Mr. Skee, of course, I +believed what you said." + +"There, now," said he, admiringly. "What is so noble as the soul of +woman? It is to this noble soul in particular, and to all my friends +here in general, that I now confide the crowning glory of a long and +checkered career, namely, and to wit, that I am engaged to be married +to that Peerless Lady, Mrs. Servilla Pettigrew, of whose remarkable +capacities and achievements I can never sufficiently express my +admiration." + +A silence fell upon the table. Mr. Skee sat down smiling, evidently in +cheerful expectation of congratulations. Mrs. Pettigrew wore an alert +expression, as of a skilled fencer preparing to turn any offered +thrusts. Mrs. St. Cloud seemed to be struggling with some emotion, +which shook her usual sweet serenity. The others, too, were visibly +affected, and not quick to respond. + +Then did Mr. Saunders arise with real good nature and ever-ready wit; +and pour forth good-humored nonsense with congratulations all around, +till a pleasant atmosphere was established, in which Mrs. St. Cloud +could so far recover as to say many proper and pretty things; sadly +adding that she regretted her imminent return to the East would end so +many pleasant friendships. + + * * * * * + + + + +BOOKS BY + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman + + +Moving the Mountain. + +A Utopia at short range. How we might change this country in thirty +years, if we changed our minds first. Mrs. Gilman's latest book, like +her earliest verse, is a protest against the parrot cry that "you +can't alter human nature." + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +What Diantha Did. + +A Novel. + +"What she did was to solve the domestic service problem for both +mistress and maid in a southern California town." + + "_The Survey._" + +"A sensible book, it gives a new and deserved comprehension of the +importance and complexity of housekeeping." + + "_The Independent._" + +"Mrs. Perkins Gilman is as full of ideas as ever, and her Diantha is a +model for all young women." + + "_The Englishwoman._" + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +The Man-Made World. + +"We defy any thoughtful person to read this book of Mrs. Gilman, and not +be moved to or towards conviction, whether he acknowledges it or not." + + "_San Francisco Star._" + +"Mrs. Gilman has presented in this work the results of her thought, +study, and observation of the much debated question of the relation of +man to woman and of woman to man. The subject is developed with much +wise argument and wholesome sense of humor." + + "_The Craftsman._" + +"Mrs. Gilman has applied her theory with much cleverness, consistency +and logical thinking." + + "_Chicago Evening Post._" + +By mail of Charlton Co., $1.10 + + +"IN THIS OUR WORLD" + +There is a joyous superabundance of life, of strength, of health, in +Mrs. Gilman's verse, which seems born of the glorious sunshine and +rich gardens of California. + + --_Washington Times._ + +The freshness, charm and geniality of her satire temporarily convert +us to her most advanced views. + + --_Boston Journal._ + +The poet of women and for women, a new and prophetic voice in the +world. Montaigne would have rejoiced in her. + + --_Mexican Herald._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.25=. + + +"THE HOME" + +Indeed, Mrs. Gilman has not intended her book so much as a treatise +for scholars as a surgical operation on the popular mind. + + --_The Critic, New York._ + +Whatever Mrs. Gilman writes, people read--approving or protesting, +still they read. + + --_Republican, Springfield, Mass._ + +Full of thought and of new and striking suggestions. Tells what the +average woman has and ought not keep, what she is and ought not be. + + --_Literature World._ + +But it is safe to say that no more stimulating arraignment has ever +before taken shape and that the argument of the book is noble, and, on +the whole, convincing. + + --_Congregationalist, Boston._ + +The name of this author is a guarantee of logical reasoning, sound +economical principles and progressive thought. + + --_The Craftsman, Syracuse._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.00=. + +"The Home" has been translated into Swedish. + + +"WOMEN AND ECONOMICS" + +Since John Stuart Mill's essay there has been no book dealing with the +whole position of women to approach it in originality of conception +and brilliancy of exposition. + + --_London Chronicle._ + +The most significant utterance on the subject since Mill's "Subjection +of Women." + + --_The Nation._ + +It is the strongest book on the woman question that has yet been +published. + + --_Minneapolis Journal._ + +A remarkable book. A work on economics that has not a dull page,--the +work of a woman about women that has not a flippant word. + + --_Boston Transcript._ + +This book unites in a remarkable degree the charm of a brilliantly +written essay with the inevitable logic of a proposition of Euclid. +Nothing that we have read for many a long day can approach in +clearness of conception, in power of arrangement, and in lucidity of +expression the argument developed in the first seven chapters of this +remarkable book. + + --_Westminster Gazette, London._ + +Will be widely read and discussed as the cleverest, fairest, most +forcible presentation of the view of the rapidly increasing group who +look with favor on the extension of industrial employment to women. + + --_Political Science Quarterly._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.50=. + +"Women and Economics" has been translated into German, Dutch, Italian, +Hungarian, Russian and Japanese. + + +"CONCERNING CHILDREN" + +WANTED:--A philanthropist, to give a copy to every English-speaking +parent. + + --_The Times, New York._ + +Should be read by every mother in the land. + + --_The Press, New York._ + +Wholesomely disturbing book that deserves to be read for its own sake. + + --_Chicago Dial._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.25=. + +"Concerning Children" has been translated into German, Dutch and +Yiddish. + + +"THE YELLOW WALLPAPER" + +Worthy of a place beside some of the weird masterpieces of Hawthorne +and Poe. + + --_Literature._ + +As a short story it stands among the most powerful produced in America. + + --_Chicago News._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$0.50=. + + +"HUMAN WORK" + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman has added a third to her great trilogy of +books on economic subjects as they affect our daily life, particularly +in the home. Mrs. Gilman is by far the most brilliant woman writer of +our day, and this new volume, which she calls "Human Work," is a +glorification of labor. + + --_New Orleans Picayune._ + +Charlotte Perkins Gilman has been writing a new book, entitled "Human +Work." It is the best thing that Mrs. Gilman has done, and it is meant +to focus all of her previous work, so to speak. + + --_Tribune, Chicago._ + +In her latest volume, "Human Work," Charlotte Perkins Gilman places +herself among the foremost students and elucidators of the problem of +social economics. + + --_San Francisco Star._ + +It is impossible to overestimate the value of the insistence on the +social aspect of human affairs as Mrs. Gilman has outlined it. + + --_Public Opinion._ + +By mail of Charlton Co., =$1.00=. + +CHARLTON COMPANY, 67 Wall St., New York + + + + +THE FORERUNNER + + +A monthly magazine, written, edited, owned and published + +by + +CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN +67 Wall Street, New York City +U. S. A. + + +SUBSCRIPTION PER YEAR + + Domestic $1.00 + Canadian 1.12 + Foreign 1.25 + + +Bound Volumes, each year $1.40 post paid + + +This magazine carries Mrs. Gilman's best and newest work, her social +philosophy, verse, satire, fiction, ethical teaching, humor and opinion. + +It stands for Humanness in Women and Men; for better methods in Child +Culture; for the New Ethics, the better Economics--the New World we +are to make, are making. The breadth of Mrs. Gilman's thought and her +power of expressing it have made her well-known in America and Europe +as a leader along lines of human improvement and a champion of woman. + +THE FORERUNNER voices her thought and its messages are not only many, +but strong, true and vital. + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcription Notes: + + +Text in bold has been marked with equal signs (=text=). + +Text in italics has been marked with underscores (_text_). + +The original spelling and minor inconsistencies in the spelling and +formatting have been retained. + +Minor punctuation . , ; " ' changes have been made without annotation. + +Other changes to the original text are listed as follows: + +Page 2 Man-made/Man-Made: The Man-Made World +Page 45 evclaimed/exclaimed: exclaimed his wife +Page 110 Removed repeated word a: were a real +Page 115 who/why: why his hair's +Page 134 though/thought: I thought as much +Page 164 Mr./My: My dear Miss +Page 169 Removed repeated word and: her own and set it +Page 174 Removed redundant word a: he had not had +Page 194 though/thought: I thought I heard +Page 197 litle/little: a little dampened +Page 240 weedings/weddings: wooings and weddings +Page 260 irrestible/irresistible: sleep irresistible from +Page 261 Cottonwood/Cottonwoods: to The Cottonwoods +Page 285 busband/husband: live with her husband +Page 317 massages/messages: its messages are not only + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Crux, by Charlotte Perkins Gilman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CRUX *** + +***** This file should be named 38551.txt or 38551.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/5/5/38551/ + +Produced by RSPIII, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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