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+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: 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
+
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