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diff --git a/40316.txt b/40316.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 40e2620..0000000 --- a/40316.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8676 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, At the Age of Eve, by Kate Trimble Sharber, -Illustrated by Paul Meylan - - -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: At the Age of Eve - - -Author: Kate Trimble Sharber - - - -Release Date: July 24, 2012 [eBook #40316] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE AGE OF EVE*** - - -E-text prepared by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (http://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustration. - See 40316-h.htm or 40316-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40316/40316-h/40316-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40316/40316-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - http://archive.org/details/atageofeve00shariala - - -Transcriber's note: - - Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document - have been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been - corrected. - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -AT THE AGE OF EVE - -[Illustration: "I--I wondered who you were, too"] - - -AT THE AGE OF EVE - -by - -KATE TRIMBLE SHARBER - -Author of The Annals of Ann - -With Illustrations by Paul Meylan - - - - - - - -Indianapolis -The Bobbs-Merrill Company -Publishers - -Copyright 1911 -The Bobbs-Merrill Company - -Press of -Braunworth & Co. -Bookbinders and Printers -Brooklyn, N. Y. - - - - - TO - ANN'S GOD-PARENTS - LILLIAN BYRN HARRISON - AND - JOHN TROTWOOD MOORE - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I ANN 1 - - II THE NEW NEIGHBORS 16 - - III THE BOOKWORM TURNS 35 - - IV A NEW GAME 49 - - V PRINCE CHARMING 67 - - VI NEVA'S BEAU BRUMMEL 97 - - VII ALFRED 123 - - VIII ALFRED COLLECTS A DEBT 136 - - IX A SHOPPING EXPEDITION 157 - - X ANN RECEIVES A CALLER 179 - - XI A DRAWN BATTLE 205 - - XII SHADOWS 225 - - XIII THANKSGIVING DAY 243 - - XIV SOPHIE'S STORY 262 - - XV THE DOUGLAS IN HIS HALL 287 - - XVI THE IDES OF MARCH 313 - - XVII MAY DAY 347 - - - - - AT THE AGE OF EVE - - - - -AT THE AGE OF EVE - - - - -CHAPTER I - -ANN - - -In beginning this record I find that it is no easy matter to feel at -home with a clean, blank journal. The possibilities of these spotless -pages seem to oppress me, and I am weighted down with the idea that my -opening sentences ought to sound brilliant and promising. - -With this thought I have started three or four entries on scraps of -paper lying here about my desk, but I find that not one of them is the -kind of thing which would make you bend over close and knit your -brows, thinking you had picked up Plato by mistake. - -No matter what lofty sentiments I have in my mind you can always hear -the swish of petticoats through my paragraphs and I regret this, for -all my life I have longed to write something that would sound like -George Eliot. In the world of books she is my idol--my lady idol, I -mean, for of course the dearest idols of all are the poets, and they -are always men. - -"George Eliot is my lady idol and my man one, too," some one said to -me once when I mentioned my preference, and this exactly expresses it. -When you read what she has written you never stop to think whether it -was written by a man or by a woman. Even in these days the women who -write anything worth reading do it so cleverly that you never for a -moment suspect they clean out their fountain-pen with a hair-pin. - -How _do_ they manage it, I wonder, when one adjective too many would -brand them as a female? - -Yet if the sex does not show in the writing, the writing always shows -in the sex. If the most masculine man on earth takes a notion to -become a writer his friends all begin strange mutterings behind his -back, and before long some one has whispered "Sissy." Ah, and if a -woman by any chance decides to use her pen a while, so her tongue can -rest, her associates are quick to pronounce that she has grown so -_masculine_ since she started this writing business! Verily the pen is -mightier than the sword if it can influence sex in a manner that -would turn a court physician green with envy. - -I should be willing to cut off my hair and call myself George, Henry -or even Sam, if I thought it would help me to be a great writer, for, -in my soul, I have always longed to write something so great and -unfeminine that it would not harm a Trappist monk. - -Still, the setting forth of these wishes of mine does not help me to -get started comfortably on this new record. Do you notice that I call -it a _record_, and not a diary? This is because I expect to write in -it only occasionally--skim the cream of events, as it were, instead of -boring you with the details of the daily milking. - -If it were January first, now, I could think up any number of -inspiring New Year sentiments to get started off with; sermons based -on the three R's to be met with most often at this season--Regrets, -Resolves and Reforms. Sometimes there is a fourth R which follows -quickly on the heels of these--Returns, to the old habits. - -Here it is, though, midsummer; and I am sure it would seem to any one -looking on that I have no visible means of support for any kind of -journal, tucked away as I am in this little town where a girl has not -inspiration enough to keep her shirt-waist pulled down in the back. - -So, with this remark about my shirt-waist, I put aside my longing to -write something like George Eliot and make a frank acknowledgment of -my skirts. Right glad I ought to be that I have them, too, for I -believe that if data were plentiful on the subject we should find that -the "mantle of charity" was originally a skirt. "Just like a fool -woman," people say leniently, and are willing to let it pass. - -I am a girl, then, as you will readily gather from the foregoing, -simply by putting one and one together--the shirt-waist and the skirt. -I live near a little country town, and am vastly dissatisfied with the -cramped stage and meager audience, else why should I be keeping a -journal? A journal is not nearly so much a book in which you tell what -you do as one in which you tell what you would like to do. - -Pray do not imagine from the above that I am longing for a crowded, -noisy stage, with lights glittering over tinsel. No, I am not that -kind of girl. I like a play of few actors, but where the things -happening make _the veins of the neck_ stand out! - -In admitting that I do not love the village near which I live I know I -run the risk of being considered ill-natured. It would be sweeter of -me to make it out a cheery little Cranford of a place, where the -tea-kettle steams cozily and drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds. -These things do happen, after a modern, American fashion; and the -people who own the tea-kettles and the folds are the same as other -people all over the world. I have no quarrel with them. Still, I am -forced to admit that time hangs so heavy on my hands I wash my hair -every other day. Have you ever noticed how often a woman, who has -nothing better to do, will wash her hair? - -Here, then, is a brief description of the village, with malice toward -none, although at times it may sound malicious: - -The surrounding country is so beautiful that if you are coming into -the town on the train you are ill-prepared for the hideous little -railway station, which is the first shock you receive. The floor of -this "depot" is dirtier than anything else on earth could be, save the -post-office floor, and there is a rusty little stove in the middle of -the room close to the box of sand, around which tobacco juice is -being eternally spit, spat, or whatever is the correct form of that -unlovely verb. - -Close to the station are the livery stables, but we shall pass by as -quickly as possible; and farther up the street is the Racket Store. -Sometimes this place has a very handsome clerk from the city; it is -then a busy market. Across the street from the hotel is the millinery -establishment, and, if you are on good terms with the milliner, she -invites you to come and sit at her front window some mornings just -after the eleven-o'clock train has come, so you can get a good view of -the interesting drummers. - -Most of the local attractions in the way of young men are sturdy -farmers, who, like June-bugs, appear for only a few months every -summer. The others, dry goods clerks, bookkeepers and professional -whittlers, usually line up on the back benches at church on Sunday -evenings and cause mild panics in the breasts of the unescorted girls -present, whose hearts palpitate painfully during the benediction. - -But here I have set forth the doings of Sunday evening before -mentioning the events of the afternoon, which, while not exciting, are -in a way more characteristic than those of any other time. If the day -is fine the country roads blossom forth at irregular intervals with -young couples out driving or walking, close to Nature's heart, yet -caring far less for her beauties than for the sight of each other, -which, after all, _is_ nature. If there is any one in the town sick -enough for his neighbors to be really concerned about him, on Sunday -afternoon the sick one's house is swarming with a crowd sufficient to -furnish forth a funeral. This is not _called_ "profaning the Sabbath," -but it ought to be. - -On rainy days, or even on fine ones, the inhabitants who are too old -to be a-lovering usually sit around and go to sleep in their chairs, -with their mouths wide open. Besides being ungraceful, this is an -invitation to tonsilitis. Dear me! I have misspelled that word again, -for Doctor Osler says there are two l's in it, and I am sure there -are--in the kind I had last Christmas! - -Somewhere in the early fall, about the time for green tomatoes to be -made up into pickle, there is the excitement of seeing the new public -school teachers file into town, and if you happen to be buying a hat -at the millinery store any time within the next few weeks you can hear -a complete description of each teacher. One paints her face until it's -mottled, you are told; another has blond hair and brunette eyebrows, -so she must have been on the stage; a third evidently has seen "better -days," for she wears a diamond ring on her little finger! There is -only _one_ more astonishing thing than the way the women of the -village talk about these teachers, and that is the way the men marry -them! - -Again I find that I have anticipated and reached the autumn before I -have finished with the summer, in the very hottest part of which, -usually August, comes an "evangelist" to hold a protracted meeting. -The sound of words always meant so much to me when I was a child, and -when I first heard that word, evangelist, I pictured a great, radiant -figure, with spreading white wings growing out from a somber suit of -black clothes, and holding to his lips a long, graceful trumpet. -Naturally, this was some time ago, when I was quite young, and wanted -to be good, so that when I died I could go to heaven, where my chief -delight was going to be tending a garden full of silver bells and -cockle-shells and pretty maids all in a row. Oh, those silver bells! -In point of beauty they had no rivals in my childish imagination, -except Cinderella's glass slippers and Aaron's golden calf! A lovely -heaven it was going to be, of light pastel shades, and a great way -off from God! You see I was brought up in such an orthodox atmosphere -that I imagined God was like the principal of a school I once -attended, always looking out for offenders with a rod up his sleeve. - -It was a distinct disappointment to me when I found that an evangelist -is like any ordinary preacher, except that he perspires more. -Sometimes he is sensational and preaches about lace yokes and dancing; -and on Sunday afternoon holds a meeting for men only, where he tells -them what a terribly bad man _he_ used to be! Again he is "burdened" -with the souls of the whole congregation and preaches hell and -damnation in a voice that sounds like pitchforks clanging against iron -chains. Now, city preachers seldom do anything like this. In the city -pulpits, of recent years, hell is like smallpox; it is still _there_, -but in a much milder form. - -During the revivals there are always one or more abusive sermons -directed at the other churches of the town, and, of course, the -Episcopalians are ever in a class with "the Turk and the comet." -Catholics are unmentionable. - -This usually causes much "hard feeling" among the good wives of the -town, at an inconvenient time, too, for the season for swapping sweet -peach pickle recipes is close at hand. The only people who can -maintain a placid spirit during these revivals are those who stay -away, and I usually try this plan, unless the evangelist happens to be -young and good-looking. - -Young and good-looking, ay, there's the rub! Herein is my lack of -material for an interesting journal, so long as I stay here at home. -Notwithstanding these barriers, Cousin Eunice, who was the instigator -of my childhood's diary, has again suggested that I keep a book here -by me to "tell off" to occasionally when I feel the need of a mental -clearing-house. She says a journal has two points of advantage over -the bosom friend a girl of my age usually has; one is, that you can -shut it up when you want to go to sleep at night, and the other is -that you can burn it when you grow ashamed of the secrets it contains, -neither of which you can do to your bosom friend, no matter how badly -you may wish to. - -The diary which I kept for several years while I was at the gawky age -was intended to be secreted between two pieces of board in the attic -and discovered by my grandchildren amid tumultuous applause, years -hence. But I am far too grown-up for these grandchildren now. The -knowledge of my years is ever with me, a sort of binding torment, like -an armhole that is too tight, so I shall have to leave the little -dears behind, with the fairies and the freckles that I have long since -outgrown. They, or the thought of them, used to make me feel that I -was on actual speaking terms with my other diary, but perhaps after a -while, I may feel on the same terms with you, even without their -presence. - -In the first place, as a reason for this book's being, I have always -liked the notion of keeping a written account of my thoughts and -feelings, especially of my feelings, for they are usually all jumbled -up in my mind, like ribbons on a remnant counter, but after I have set -them down in black and white where I can stand off and look at them -they are no more complicated than sardines in a box. Another reason is -that in the diaries, correspondence and love-letters of interesting -people (great people, I mean) which I have read, I have found there is -a sort of interest which is lacking in their stiff-standing-collar and -high-heeled-shoes productions. In this class I have read Amiel and Sam -Pepys, and the love-letters of Sophie Dorothea, poor dear! How her -portrait must have lied! No woman with that much fat on her neck -could really love! I adore Amiel and am fond of Pepys, although I wish -he had left out about a ton of that venison pasty which his -"she-cozen" was usually preparing for his entertainment. It always -gets in your line of vision, somehow, whenever you are craning your -neck to catch a glimpse of that naughty but nice Charlie Stuart! - -Then there was a girl in _Pendennis_ who kept a book of -heart-outpourings and called it "Mes Larmes." And my Lord Byron's dear -friend, Lady Blessington, called hers "My Night Book." - -Well, mine is not going to be a night book, for that is not my -favorite time for mental surveying. I am still a regular lizard in my -love for the sunshine, and, if the prospect sounds alluring, I'll -promise that much of this book shall be written in the clear light of -day. A good part of my other diary was written up in the old pear tree -by the orchard gate, but now I am grown up, so, of course-- - -"Mes Larmes" would be even worse for a title than the one I have just -mentioned. Some tears will, of course, be mixed in to make the -rainbows of happiness shine through, but I fancy that mine will be -principally a record of work and play. Work that is play and play -that is work, mother says, as I sit on the shady porch in the mornings -working flowers on my shirt-waist front, and spend the afternoons -playing tennis in the hot sun. Work and play, then, for the present; -later, maybe, smiles and sighs; while a long, long way in the future, -perhaps on the last few pages, there _may_ be--shall I say it? No, I -am not well enough acquainted with you yet. - -Although I have kept back this one little thought from you in the -above, I promise that in the narration of all things which have -actually happened this journal is going to be unexpurgated! First, I -love truth; and I think that a whole truth is nearly always better -than a half. For instance, d----n in print always looked worse to me -than damn. Then, in the diaries and love-letters I have mentioned -above, I have often found that at the very places where matters were -getting _so_ interesting you straighten up somewhat and begin to -breathe very softly, the narrative breaks suddenly into a row of -beastly little dots--and you are left to imagine what you will! Maybe -the truth would not have been half so bad as your imaginings--maybe it -would have been much worse. It all depends upon the condition of your -circulation! - -For my part, I like a book to tell the whole truth about what it -starts out to tell; yet this does not mean that every detail is to be -described, even to setting forth whether the heroine wears -hose-supporters or round garters. Now, in case this journal _should_ -be secreted in the attic and found years hence by a mixed audience -which is inclined to take offense at my mention of garters, I shall -say simply, "Evil to him who evil thinketh." - -So I am going to have you for my confidential friend and adviser. I -say adviser advisedly, for I know of nothing which preaches a better -sermon sometimes than for a person to look over certain back pages of -his diary; especially _her_ diary. - -When I am wicked enough to make your leaves curl up in horror, all you -can do is to listen to my story and not look at me as if you thought I -needed the prayers of the congregation. People who pray don't talk -about it anyway! And, if by chance, my right hand should do something -handsome that it is fairly itching to tell about we can recite it all -to you, knowing that you will never let it come to the ears of my left -hand. - -Good I may occasionally be; wicked I shall certainly be, for are not -we all born in iniquity? But I hope that in after years when I read -over these pages I shall not discover that it takes a sextant, a -compass and an alarm clock to find out where my heart is! - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE NEW NEIGHBORS - - -"You mus' be mighty clean, or mighty dirty, _one_," Mammy Lou called -out to me this morning as she looked up from the kitchen door and -espied me at the bath-room window with my robe wrapped around me -toga-fashion. - -"Oh, excuse _me_," she continued with exaggerated politeness after a -moment in which I did not speak. "Of course you ain't to be spoke to -when you're breathin' like a heathen!" - -I finished the prescribed number of breaths laid down in the rules for -Yogi breathing, which I am trying just now because I am so tired of -breathing the same old way, then looked down at mammy. - -"A girl who can take a cold bath every morning and bait a fish-hook -can take care of herself in this life!" I answered. "You ought to be -proud of my courage." - -"'Tain't no Christian notion for no girl to be wantin' to take care of -herself," she began to argue, but rather than get into a debate and -be routed, as she sometimes is, she suddenly assumed an air of -excitement and cried: "Listen! Wasn't that the thing hollerin'?" - -"The thing" here referred to is the new inter-urban line which now -runs past our house, much to the chagrin of Mammy Lou, who calls it -the "interruption line," because it is "always drappin' somebody off -here right in the midst o' dinner time, when there ain't nothin' lef' -but backs and wings." - -This very disconcerting thing has happened so many times that mother -found she would have to carry a full line of emergency tins in her -pantry, all bearing on their labels the comforting assurance that they -could be served hot in three minutes. These were ever small -consolation to Mammy Lou, however, and she always serves them with as -much humiliation as if the "Yankee beans" and "het-over peas" were the -proverbial dinner of herbs. - -This morning, though, the lid was shut fast on the tinned diet -department and there was as much beautiful fried chicken sizzling -drowsily on the back of the stove as northern people always give us -Southerners credit for having. The best white and gold china was on -the table, and a tall vase of Paul Neron roses on the mantelpiece, -hiding father's bottle of rheumatism cure. - -At mammy's suggestion that she heard the "thing" hollering I had -thrown on my clothes without waiting to wipe all the water out of my -ears, and had run down-stairs to see if mother needed me to pin her -collar down in the back, for I knew she would be wanting to look her -best this morning. We were all a little excited (things so seldom -happen here) and I noticed that father was using his most rheumatic -hand and arm every few minutes to take his watch out of his pocket; -yet he forgot to frown. - -The Claybornes were coming, Waterloo, Rufe and Cousin Eunice. We were -feeling particularly anxious about the outcome of their visit, for -mother and I had conspired together that a few political talks with -Rufe _had_ to cure father of his rheumatism. So we were watching every -movement on his part with eager interest. - -You must not imagine that we are unsympathetic with father when he -actually has an attack. We rub him and put hot things to his shoulder, -and I have actually gone so far as to let him explain the _primary -plan_ to me in words of one syllable that a child could understand, -just to get his mind diverted. - -Like most high-spirited men, when father does get down into the depths -he tries to burrow clear on through to China. I wonder why this is? -Possibly it is on the same principle that effervescent drugs are kept -in blue bottles. I do not blame him, certainly, for rheumatism is -enough to get on anybody's nerves. The poor man has to try as many -different positions to get any ease sometimes as a worn-out alarm -clock that will run only on a certain side. So the summer has been a -hard one for us all, father waxing so melancholy here lately that if -he has a gum-boil he gives us directions for his cremation. - -It was during one of these outbursts of pessimism that father took it -into his head to disfigure the landscape across the road from our -house with a row of smart cottages, which were to rent for so much a -month that they would prove a get-rich-quick scheme and so save us -from the humiliation of being cared for by the Masons in our old age, -which was another one of the notions in the train of rheumatic gloom. - -Fortunately the first cottage cost so much more than it was worth that -the project for the rest was abandoned; and, after it was duly -insured, mother and I were secretly burning candles to our patron -saint for its incineration when it was rented to a family named -Sullivan. This Sullivan family consists of a father who drinks, just a -little, enough to keep him jolly all the time; a mother who is of such -a despondent nature that you wish she would drink; a daughter who -wears crimson silk gowns and jeweled combs to the post-office when she -goes for her mail every morning, yet withal has more beaus than any -other girl in the village, as is attested by the candy boxes piled -piano-high in her parlor; and a maiden aunt, Miss Delia Badger, who -dyes her hair. Now, this term, "maiden aunt," is usually employed to -denote a condition of hopelessness, but you will understand from the -dyed hair that, in this case, the condition is far from being -hopeless--else why the dye? - -The pristine blackness of Miss Delia's crown of glory was beginning to -wear off, and in the stress of moving had not been replaced as soon as -it should have been, so, on the day that I made her acquaintance, her -hair displayed an iridescent sheen, shading from light tan to deep -purple. This made me so angry with father for having built the cottage -that I ran past him without a word of sympathy when I reached home, -although he was sitting on the front porch reading the paper and -making horrible faces every time he had to move his arm. - -The next day, which was the second after their moving, when I turned -in at our gate after my morning tramp, I found that the Sullivans were -presenting a much more homelike view from the front of their house, -elaborate curtains showing at the parlor windows, and at the front -door a white panel of lace, a most lifelike affair, representing -Andrew Jackson mounted upon his fiery steed and lifting his high white -hat to an imaginary, though evidently enthusiastic, throng. - -"_Now_, I reckon you're satisfied," I exclaimed to father as I came -into the house and found him cleaning his gun, one end of it resting -on the piano, and a pile of greasy rags perilously close to my -limp-backed copy of Gray's _Elegy_. - -He quickly moved the gun and rags, but seeing that this offense was -not the cause of my wrath, he meekly inquired: "What?" - -Mother came in at this juncture and I explained to them my indignation -over the Andrew Jackson. - -"Jumping Jerusalem!" father said, thus admitting his horrified -surprise, but after a moment he parried. - -"It may be Napoleon, or Frederick the Great." - -"What difference would that make?" I demanded. "A warrior has no place -on a door-panel. Besides, it's 'Old Hickory.' I'd know that high white -hat anywhere! Wasn't I born and _raised_ in the shadow of it?" - -"Dear me! But maybe you are mistaken," mother interposed gently. "It -is quite a distance across the road--it may be a peculiar pattern of -Batten--" - -Before she had finished I darted up the steps and scrambled around in -the bureau drawer for my opera-glasses. - -"Take these out to the porch and _look_," I begged, as I came down -again and found the two still facing each other with a quizzical -smile. She carried out my suggestion and presently came back, still -smiling. - -"It's Andrew," she reported, reaching out for my opera-bag and -slipping the glasses into it; "it's Andrew beyond a doubt; but, -dearie, it _can't_ outlast two washings." - -This assurance comforted me somewhat every time I had to look at the -military door-panel, but on cleaning days when the parlor curtains at -the cottage were tucked up and I discerned the large, colored portrait -of Mr. Roosevelt which smiled sunnily down from the space above the -mantelpiece there was no such consoling reflection. - -About this time it was that I grew to know Neva, the daughter of the -house. Her family called her "Nevar," most nasally, after the manner -of "ordinary" people in the South; but I soon found qualities in her -that made me forgive the silk gowns and jeweled combs, aye, even the -Andrew Jackson. - -In the first place I discovered that she entertained a most profound -admiration for me, especially for my pronunciation and finger-nails. -Of these she at once set about a frank imitation which later extended -to things more impersonal. Once, after I had shown her my books and -she had breathed a long, ecstatic sigh over the pictures in the -library I found that the hero of San Juan was falling into disfavor as -a parlor ornament. Neva had been especially impressed with a small -oval portrait of my childhood's hero, Lord Byron, which mother had -found once in a curio-shop in New Orleans and brought home to me. - -"Who is he?" she asked, her eyes fixed admiringly on the matchless -face. I explained to her. - -"Is he dead?" she inquired softly. - -"Alas, yes!" - -"But it certainly is swell to have his picture here," she volunteered. -"I reckon it's because he's dead that it is more quiet and elegant, -somehow, than a president's picture. Now Mr. Roosevelt looks so horrid -and _lively_!" - -From this I gathered that the ex-president would sooner or later be -deposed, but I was surprised to find that it had happened much sooner -than I had expected, for the next time I visited the Sullivan home I -found Mr. Roosevelt's jolly face gone; and in its stead the gentle -features of William McKinley looked down on the candy-boxes and -pink-flowered cuspidors. That he was dead was evidenced by the black -border running mournfully around the print; and Neva called my -attention to the fact as soon as I came into the room. - -"You see he looks quieter than Roosevelt because he's dead," she -elucidated, "although he isn't a poet! Papa said he'd buy me a poet -the next time he went up to the city--and oh, a green leather copy of -Gray's 'Prodigy!'--like yours!" - -So, in trying to teach Neva the difference between presidents and -poets, I have been able to enliven some of the dull days; and she is -such a sweet little thing at heart that, if she never gets the -difference clear, my time is not ill-spent anyway. - -But ah, _this_ morning the Claybornes were coming! And we were all out -at the gate in a twinkling when we finally did hear the shrill whistle -of the car! The first sight of Waterloo's sparkling little face -rewarded me for dressing while my ears were still wet. He had on a -Buster Brown suit of white linen, with red anchors embroidered in -their usual places, and a brave red badge setting forth his political -inclinations. Father's lame hand had already reached out for him. - -"Hello, Uncle Dan!" he said cordially, paying no attention to the -feminine portion of the crowd. "Are you for it or 'ginst it?" - -"I'm 'ginst it, too," father answered, drawing from his pocket a -similar badge. - -"That's right! Now show me the mules!" - -He and father led the way up the walk, followed by the rest of us, -with Grapefruit, escorted by a hilarious Lares and Penates, bringing -up the rear. - -Grapefruit, be it known, is Waterloo's nurse, or, more properly -speaking, is a kind of jester to His Majesty. Her genuine name is -Gertrude, but she came to him when he was at such a tender age that -he corrupted it to Grapefruit, and Rufe says that if he had named her -Fragrant Pomegranate Vine it would not be any too good for her. She is -an ethereal little darky with wonderful powers of diversion. Cousin -Eunice tells about how she found her out in the side yard playing with -Waterloo one May morning long ago, and how his soul so clave unto her -soul that he refused to give her up. - -Automobiles, red wagons, fire-engines, boxes of candy--all were -suggested in vain. "I want my little Grapefruit," he tearfully -insisted, over and over again, until the attractive one modestly -announced that she might be engaged to stay and amuse him by the week -for "seventy-five or fifty cents, or I'll stay for nothing if you'll -let me play on the piano." - -Cousin Eunice joyfully agreed to the highest figure asked, with the -use of the piano thrown in, yea and the telephone, the type-writer, in -short, everything in the house except her tooth-brush. So Grapefruit -stayed, and at this period of their lives is as necessary a part of -the Claybornes' traveling outfit as their collapsible drinking-cup. - -After breakfast was over we lingered in the dining-room a while, as is -our custom when we have interesting guests; and we women rested our -elbows on the table and talked, while the men lit their cigars and -pounded the table-cloth until the spoons jumped out of the saucers, so -vehement were their expressions about "that blackguard of a governor." - -We women talked about Waterloo, of course. - -"He's at the loveliest age, right now, I think," mother said, as our -three pairs of eyes wandered out in his direction to the long back -porch, where Grapefruit and Lares were making him a pack-saddle, so -they could "tote 'im" down to the lot. He was entirely too good to -walk that first morning. - -"Yes, I rather dislike the thought of his growing into a great, rough, -short-haired boy," Cousin Eunice assented, looking at him fondly. -"That terrible age when they always smell like their puppies! But, -that's quite a while off. He is still a baby." - -"I find that they are always more or less babies," mother said, -looking toward me, "--no matter what their age may be." - -"Oh, this talk about ages reminds me of a book I brought for Ann to -read," Cousin Eunice said, rising from the table and starting toward -the front hall where their bags had been hastily dropped that we might -not delay Mammy Lou's hot breakfast. "Stay here, all of you, and wait -until I get it. It contains an interesting thought." - -"Then it's that much ahead of most new books," Rufe remarked, his -attention having been attracted from his own line of talk by Cousin -Eunice starting to leave the dining-room. - -"It isn't strictly new," she commented, returning in a few moments -with the book in her hand. "It was written several years ago. It's -nothing out of the ordinary in plot, and the thought which impressed -some of us in the 'Scribblers' Club' was concerning the age of Eve -when she was created. The heroine of the story is named Eve and is -young and fair, so the hero, a gallant soldier, remarks to her one day -as they are walking by the river bank at a stolen tryst, that he -fancies the first mother was at his sweetheart's identical age when -she was created. You see, it is quite a poetic fancy." - -"More poetic than true. Soldiers don't talk that way," father said -drily. "How old did the book say this Eve was?" - -"The author was too wise to tell in plain figures," she answered, "but -it was somewhere under the twenties--in the early flush of youth." - -"Well, Adam was the first man who ever had the chance of a wife made -to order," father kept on. "Surely he had more sense than to take a -seventeen-year-old girl." - -"No, you're wrong," Rufe disagreed. "I believe that Adam was too much -of a gentleman to look a gift wife in the mouth." - -"I'll get the Concordance and see if there's any record of her age," -mother said, bustling off toward her bedroom and returning in a moment -with her well-worn book, but she was unable to find any definite facts -about Eve on the morning of that first surgical operation. - -"What difference does it make about the actual number of years?" Rufe -inquired, with an air of dismissing the subject. "The age of Eve is -that picturesque period which comes to a girl after her elbows are -rounded out." - -My bared arms happened to be resting again on the table during this -discussion, and, as Rufe spoke, Cousin Eunice's eyes wandered in their -direction. "Then Ann's at it," she concluded triumphantly, and they -all stared at me curiously, as if the age of Eve were showing on me -like pock-marks! - -"Ann doesn't seem nearly so old as she really is," mother began with a -kind of uneasy look. "You see, she has never been to school very -much, so her education--" - -"Now, please don't begin about my education," I begged, for it is a -mooted question in my family whether or not I have any, father and I -maintaining that I have all that is necessary, mother wishing that it -had been more carefully directed along the conventional lines. "If I -should go to school until I'm as old as Halley's comet I couldn't -learn the things I don't like. And I know all the rest without going! -Don't people call me up for miles around to ask who wrote _Prometheus -Bound_ and how to spell 'candidacy?'" - -"So you're satisfied with yourself?" Rufe teased. - -"Far from it," I denied, "but I am certainly satisfied with the amount -of schooling _in schools_ I've had. Ugh, I hate the thought of it!" - -"But how can you ever amount to anything without an education?" mother -persisted. - -"Never fear," I assured her easily. "I'll amount to my destiny, no -matter whether I've ever seen inside a school or not. When I was a -child I always imagined I was cut out to be Somebody; and even now I -occasionally have a notion that Fate is watching me through her -lorgnette!" - -"You and Jean Everett used to have such queer ideas about -yourselves--with your notions of marrying dukes and living in castles, -and all that kind of thing," Cousin Eunice said, after a moment of -amused thought. - -"Jean still has her notions," Rufe broke in. "Our city editor is out -of his depth in love with her and I met her on the street the other -day and tried to bespeak her pity for the poor fellow. She assured me -that the man _she_ married would be so important the papers would all -get out an extra every time his assassination was attempted!" - -"Well, she'd better decide to take Guilford then," I said warmly, for -it is a source of great satisfaction to me that my old friend, Jean -(still my best friend), is half-engaged to Guilford Houghton, a grave -young lawyer who is already making people take notice. He is a very -quiet, dignified young man, so tall and thin and straight that he -reminds me of a silk umbrella carefully rolled. - -For a long time Jean seemed not to care much about him, but he kept -paying his court as persistently as a fly in wet weather until she was -finally won--half-way. He has very methodical ways, and calls to see -her only on Sunday and Wednesday evenings, but she devotes so much -time and care to her toilet for hours and hours preceding these visits -that we call them her "days of purification." - -"Guilford is not so showy, maybe," she said to me one time, in -explanation of her fondness for him, which she tries hard to conceal, -"but he's so _dependable_. That's worth a lot to a girl who has been -engaged to four or five Apollos, all of them about as reliable as -drop-stitch stockings!" - -"For my part, I admire Jean's ambition," father spoke up, although -none of us suspected that he was listening to our rambling talk. "I'd -rather see a girl with an ambition like that than one with none at -all--one of these little empty-headed gigglers whose age of Eve -announces its arrival by all the i's in her name being changed into -y's." - -Waterloo came in at this point and demanded again that the mules be -shown him, so father and Rufe set out for the stables. - -"Shall we walk around and look at things, too?" I asked Cousin Eunice -as we filed out on to the back porch. It is a habit with us two to -steal away for a quiet little talk the first few hours we are together -and take stock of each other's happenings since we met last. - -"No," she answered, looking at me steadily. "The orchard and vineyard -are more beautiful in the afternoon. We'll walk all over the place -then. Besides, I have a notion that you'll want to tell me things -which will sound better in the afternoon sunshine." - -"Not a thing," I denied, and wondered how a discussion of poetic -fancies at the breakfast table could make her so sentimental. - -"Then you are wasting some mighty valuable time," she replied. "Most -normal girls of your age are brimful of plans and ideas." She would -have said secrets, as she intended to, but Mammy Lou hove in sight -just then with a big pan of butter-beans for me to shell for dinner. - -Rufe had stopped her at the kitchen door with the usual query, "Well, -Mammy, you're not married again?" - -"Naw, sir," she had admitted, with a self-conscious smile, "although I -did have a _boa'der_ all the spring." - -Waterloo protested against even this slight pause in their progress -toward the stables, so with an amused smile Rufe forbore to continue -the conversation, but passed on and Mammy Lou ambled in our direction -just in time to hear part of Cousin Eunice's remark to me. - -"Law, Miss Eunice, you can't git nothin' out o' _her_," she said -disgustedly, as she set the pan of beans down and began to fan herself -with her apron. "She's plen'y old enough, the Lord knows, to be takin' -notice, _although_ Mis' Mary don't think so. I heerd you-all talkin' -'bout certain ages at the breakfas' table, but I can tell you _she_ -ain't at it. She don't look at nary one of 'em twicet; an' when the -shore-nuff age of Eve has come to a girl she begins eyin' ever' man -she meets to see if he's got a missin' rib that'll match with hern!" - - - - -CHAPTER III - -THE BOOKWORM TURNS - - -"'Tis ill work trying to ride Pegasus on a side-saddle," Cousin Eunice -said this morning as she hurriedly threw aside her pencil and paper -and ran to tell Dilsey about not putting any starch in the legs of -Waterloo's rompers. "He's not a lady's horse anyhow," she continued as -she came back and sat down on the grass again, "especially after a -man, a baby and a gas stove have come into the lady's life." - -"Gas stove?" I questioned, looking up from my book, a heavy old French -book, it was, for mother's remark about my neglected education had -made me feel a little uneasy after all. Cousin Eunice is not the kind -of woman to fill her letters full of household matters, hence my -surprised question. - -"A good cook, with me, is only a memory," she said with a sadly -reminiscent air. "I have a girl whose name is Pearl, but alas it is a -lie! Even the day I learned that my book had found a publisher I had -to get up out of my trance and peel potatoes for luncheon." - -"Surely not!" - -"Yes. I peeled them, but they were never cooked, for when Rufe came -home and heard the news he hustled us all off to town and we had -luncheon in Beauregard's privatest dining-room. We ordered all the -things that disagree with us most--by way of reckless indulgence." - -"How did you feel when you heard that news?" I asked with interest, -for the book manuscript which Cousin Eunice had been working on since -the days of her single blessedness had grown to be like a member of -the family with us all, especially of late years, after a certain -critic had pronounced it good. It suddenly grew so valuable after that -that she kept it in a little brown leather bag all the time and would -never leave the house without telling somebody where that bag was (in -case of fire) and making them promise to play Casabianca to those -precious sheets until they should be rescued. - -"Just dazed!" she answered simply. "Pretty much as I felt when I found -that Rufe was going to be mine--only a great deal less so, you know." - -"I wonder if you are ever going to be really great?" I pursued, for -since I have grown so old I share all her hopes and fears, just as if -we were sisters. "With a trip around the world as a starter, and a -quiet little castle on the Italian coast as a next step. Then you can -sign checks for a thousand dollars and get your pictures taken for -nothing." - -"Well, not at the rate I'm going now," she replied with a rueful smile -toward her book and pencil lying inert on the grass; yet she made no -effort to resume her work. Evidently the starch in Waterloo's rompers -had driven away romance. - -"But everything has its compensation," she continued after a moment. -"If I never get my great trip around the world with a ten-days' -stop-over in Japan I can never write a book about that long-suffering -country, so I shall still have something to be thankful for." - -"The public is the one to be thankful," I added. - -"That's true, too," she agreed. "It may have cause to be thankful if -this second book of mine is never finished, but nevertheless you don't -know what a fever of impatience I'm in to see it all smoothly laid out -between two pieces of paste-board and ready for the express label to -be put on." - -"Yes, I believe I do know, though certainly not about a _book_. I am -sure I know what fever of impatience means." But she was so absorbed -in her own troubles that she did not notice this indirect -acknowledgment of mine. - -"I had imagined that I could get my mind into a state of at least -comparative tranquillity down here," she kept on. We were out in our -favorite lair, a screened-off grassy spot in the side yard, where a -double row of althea bushes furnishes a sense of security against -intrusion, yet we were close enough to Waterloo to hear him every time -he bumped his head or skinned his knee. - -"This place is almost unearthly in its quiet beauty," she said after a -moment, looking up through the green vista toward the house. The -passion flowers were clambering up on the garden fence and running -riot over the yellowing cornstalks. Back of the kitchen the well-house -lay asleep in the sun, the star-like blossoms of white clematis which -covered the roof of the old building were still untouched by that -feathery change which forecasts their coming blight. - -"It _is_ beautiful--and it certainly is quiet," I coincided with her -emphatically. - -"Sometimes at home when the telephone bell and the door-bell and the -club meetings and the butcher boys and the laundry men have all made a -throbbing pain come in my head I steal away up-stairs to my little den -where I lock the door and lie down to try to ease that nervous pain. -Then I close my eyes and try to project my astral body down here into -all this still, summer loveliness. I come up the gravel walk and on to -the front porch--oh, those cedar porches! And I go through the shady -hall to the back gallery where I find myself face to face with a great -cold watermelon that has just been cut." - -"And the library is full of roses, and there is a tray of fragrant -peaches that Dilsey gathered early in the morning." - -"Ah! I see that you feel its beauty just as much as if it were not an -every-day affair to you," she said, looking at me with another one of -those searching glances which she has treated me to several times -lately. "No wonder you have grown to look like the place." - -"To look like it!" I encouraged her to go on, for a compliment is more -food for my soul than all the white hyacinths in a florist's window. - -"Surely you look like it," she continued. "You are as patrician -looking as the house--and as vivid as the flowers in the yard." - -"Dear me!" I exclaimed. "Then I am _good-looking_?" - -"Ann, don't be an idiot! If Aunt Mary had longed for a child as white -as snow and as red as blood and as black as the ebony of her -embroidery frame, she couldn't have produced anything more exotic than -you." - -There was a moment of silence in which I thought of the vivid beauty -of Lady Caroline Lamb. Of course I am not anything to compare with -her! Of _course_ not! But how these vivid beauties _care_--for some -one--when the time comes! Yes; when the time comes. But, dear me, it -seems that it is never coming! - -"Well, what good does it all do me?" I demanded at length, the -long-pent-up storm of restlessness thundering to make itself heard. -"Granted that I look as well as you say, and that I live in an earthly -paradise--can't you see that there is no--that it is _lonesome_?" - -"You are bored?" she asked sympathetically. - -"Bored! I am stifling!" - -"Yet the summer here is a joy--with oceans of morning-glories and -miles of horseback riding!" - -"It is a joy, I admit, and a thousand times better than being a summer -girl at a noisy watering-place." - -"What is a summer girl?" she asked with a smile, but I was not -smiling. I was pessimistic. - -"A sleepy-headed female with trunks full of soiled clothes! That's -what I always am when I get back from a trip." - -"Of course the winters here are dull." She had picked up her tablet -and was writing her initials over and over again on the back. - -"They are. Dull gray," I agreed. "The days are a weary succession of -that uninteresting color; but, dreary as they are, you want them to -last. When the daylight is fading and night coming on, but while it is -still too early to light the lamps--then is the worst time of all! -There is no sound on earth save a few lonely little calf bleats from -down in the lot, until the woodchop echoes begin--and they are -lonelier still." - -"It's awful, I know!" - -"Do you know what I do on such nights as this? I get out my -opera-glasses and long gloves and a lace handkerchief, and lay them on -my table as if I were about to dress for a beautiful opera. Then I -read _Aux Italiens_; think a while--and go to bed." - -"Poor child!" - -"I used never to feel this way," I kept on. "Always--until lately--I -have loved winter. It has meant only great roaring fires and _barrels_ -of apples. Even the absorbing books which used always to accompany the -apples and big fires are not absorbing any more." - -"Of course not. A girl with as much _go_ in her as you have needs to -lose herself entirely in something." - -"And that something will never be bound in three-quarters morocco," I -replied, flinging away my book impatiently. - -"No, indeed! The bookworm has turned. The 'something' will be bound in -an English tweed suit of clothes through the day's business hours, -and--" - -"And a long gray overcoat, and a soft gray hat." - -She looked at me in surprise. - -"Then you've seen him?" - -"I have seen--the type." - -She understood, but she still looked at me wonderingly. - -"Alfred?" she ventured. - -"No. He is my friend, but if I were in love with Alfred I'd have -palpitations every time I passed the red cross on an ambulance. That's -the way _I'm_ going to love." - -"I should think you could find an outlet for all the pent-up ambition -you complain of, if you loved Alfred," she insisted, although she -imagined that she was not insisting. "I have never met a more -ambitious man, nor one of such singleness of purpose. Naturally -success seems to gravitate toward him, as the crow flies." - -"And still it seems such a short while ago that Doctor Gordon took a -liking to him, when he was a raw medical student," I said -thoughtfully, my mind going back to the day I first saw Alfred Morgan, -big, broad and bronzed, with his hair too long and his sleeves too -short. There have been many days since then; days of a delightful -comradeship when I was in the city. I would look after him with -sisterly authority, bidding him wear his rubbers on rainy mornings, or -give me his gloves to mend whenever I happened to be spending the day -at the Gordons' and we sat down for a quiet chat after luncheon. Ann -Lisbeth and Doctor Gordon still live so close to the Claybornes that -we are like one big family when I am with them. Alfred soon began to -tell me that I was his best friend, but he never called me the -"guiding star of his existence." He tried to teach me the bones of the -face, instead, and explained the barbarism of corsets. - -When he was out in practice the first year, but still lived with the -Gordons, because Doctor Gordon would not let him go, I used to drive -around with him to see his patients, sitting out in the runabout, -which he had bought at half-price because it was a last year's model, -and reading a magazine while he went in to make his calls. Often these -calls were made in crowded little factory settlements, where the whirr -of the cotton-mills sounded through the long periods of waiting; and -the houses were built so close on the street that I could hear the -click of the lock as he unfastened his instrument case. - -"I admit that Alfred's career generates thrills up and down the -backbones of his admiring friends," I said after the pause which had -been filled in by my busy thoughts. She was still writing her initials -over the back of her tablet. "Who knows this better than I? Haven't I -been a mother to the boy ever since that time I read surgical anatomy -to him when he had tonsillitis? One of the most dramatic moments of -my life was the night I stabbed--" - -I caught myself, but not in time, for Cousin Eunice had looked up from -her book with a horrified stare. "_What?_" she demanded. - -"Oh, it was only that detestable Burke's automobile tire," I had to -explain then, but I had kept the occurrence a secret hitherto, and I -was not keen on telling it now. - -"It was during the year of Alfred's internship and you remember that -Burke was always doing him an ill turn? One drippy night that fall -when I was in Doctor Gordon's car in front of the hospital and they -didn't see me, I overheard Burke and another intern plotting to beat -Alfred out of a surgical case that was coming in on the train that -night and belonged, by rights, to him. They had arranged to hurry on -over to the station first, in Burke's new car that his fond mamma had -given him, but when they went back into the house to get their -raincoats I was out of that machine like a Nemesis and had stuck my -hat-pin into the two tires on Burke's car which were most in the -shadow; so, when they started off, they had gone only about a block -and were down in the mud swearing--when Alfred dashed grandly by on -the ambulance." - -"You little tiger!" - -"Burke ought to have had the hat-pin stuck in _him_," I added -savagely. - -"Aren't we _still_ barbarians--at heart?" she demanded, throwing her -tablet aside and straightening up so suddenly that I knew her thoughts -had already strayed away from my recital. "Now, that's the way I have -always felt about Appleton since he's been governor. Lots of times -when I have been helping Rufe write those violent attacks against him -I would almost choke with rage. I actually wanted to kill him." - -"You _helped_ Rufe?" I asked with envy. "He admitted that you had -sense enough to?" - -"Some of the _meanest_ things the _Times_ has ever printed about him -were my thoughts," she said proudly. "But it has never printed a lie!" - -"Ah, that must be something worth while," I commented admiringly, for -my ideas concerning women and their possible achievements are strictly -modern. "I should like to be the power behind the revolving-chair." - -I see already that the above paragraph contradicts itself, for being -the power _behind_ things is as old as Eve; but then, the prerogative -of contradicting oneself belongs by rights to her daughters. - -"Do you care for politics any more than you used to?" Cousin Eunice -asked hopefully. - -"Politics and mathematics were ever of equal interest to me," I was -bound to acknowledge. "But I have been able to understand a little -about the primary plan this summer--father's taught me. And I know -that the 'machine gang' is _always_ the other fellows!" - -"Well, that's a brilliant start," said a sarcastic male voice from the -other side of the hedge, and Rufe's amused face rose up to our -confusion. Without waiting for invitation he came through and sat down -on the grass beside us. - -"Well, she'd enjoy some of _our_ politicians, wouldn't she?" Cousin -Eunice asked Rufe as she moved over farther to give him more room, for -the althea branches were wide and thick, and entangled themselves in -our hair persistently. "Whether she cares for politics or no, eh?" - -"Oh, she'd lose her head over Chalmers," Rufe acquiesced as -indifferently as the male relative of a girl always shows in -discussing "possible" men. "Lord Byron is as a comic valentine -compared with him in looks." - -"Richard Chalmers," I repeated. "I've seen his name in the paper -often, but I don't know exactly what he is." - -"Neither does any one else," Rufe answered meaningly. "He's a rich -young lawyer--inherited his money--and so shrewd that he's not going -to join the Appleton forces, no matter what pretentions they make to -get him on their side." He spoke as if he were arguing the question. - -"Of course he isn't," Cousin Eunice added stoutly. - -"But what _is_ he?" I asked, fearful lest they get into a discussion -and forget to satisfy my curiosity, which was--strange to -say--considerably aroused. - -"Well, if he would declare himself definitely upon the liquor -question," Rufe explained concisely, "he would be about the most -promising piece of gubernatorial timber that we have." - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -A NEW GAME - - - "If we knew when walking thoughtless - Through some crowded, noisy way, - That a pearl of wondrous whiteness, - Close beside our pathway lay; - We would pause, where now we hasten, - We would often look around, - Lest our careless feet should trample - Some rare jewel in the ground." - -It was like my extravagant nature to quote this verse of "speech day" -poetry while engaged in such a commonplace pursuit, but then the age -of Eve is an extravagant age. - -I was in a tight little cell of a room back of the pantry, a hot -enough place on an August morning; a little den where we store old -magazines, last summer hats, pictures and bric-a-brac that we have -outgrown, and piles of newspapers. - -It was the last named species of junk that was absorbing my earnest -attention, to say naught of perspiration, on the day I have in mind, -which is by no means a distant one. My forehead was wet and my hair -was sticking to it in damp little slabs, but I was unaware of this -until afterward, when my family called my attention to it, and -inquired where I had been and what I had been doing. Then I was in no -mood to tell them. - -"It ought to be somewhere in the June lot," I mused, as I stretched my -arm across a bundle of worn-out bedroom curtains and dragged a batch -of dusty papers over into my lap. - -I have been very idle and lonely for the last few days, else I doubt -if I should have been driven to such occupation as this. I knew it was -foolish, even as I did it, but the Claybornes have been away, staying -with the elder Claybornes a while, only returning this morning early, -and Cousin Eunice has been so busy since then repairing the damage -done Waterloo's clothes that she has been uninteresting to me. The -Sullivans spent last week down in the country at a tiny town named -Bayville, where there is no sign of a bay; and I have missed the -workings of Neva sadly. - -It denoted the recent trend of my mind that, as I thought of Neva, -upon this occasion, I immediately remembered that her father is a -strict anti-Appleton man. Anti-Appleton! How much the term means to me -now! A week ago I cared no more for its sound than I cared for the -nouns of the fifth declension. - -I picked up the paper lying on top and began to fan with it a while -before wading into the mazes of the stack. In the few papers which I -had already looked over I found, _not_ the object of my search, it is -true, but wood-cuts and cartoons of men whose names have been familiar -to me for months in a vague, unreal sort of way, making a sound to my -ears, but meaning nothing--like the ringing of the telephone bell in -the next room when you are fast asleep. Yet the telephone bell will -finally awaken you if you are not dead--even _so_ it might, if it is a -doctor's telephone--and with what a start do you come to your senses -as you reproach yourself for not recognizing its important voice -sooner! I have felt this way many times lately, since I have taken up -the study of politics; and have found it vastly more interesting than -geometry. - -The first mighty political name which ever forced itself upon my -understanding was Cleveland, and it is not surprising to me now that I -was mixed up as to its significance and imagined that, instead of a -surname, it was a title of nobility. It sounded like such a swelling -note of praise to me, for I was only a few years old, and the -torchlight procession on the night of his election filled me with a -strange delight. - -Since then I have always had a good memory for oft-repeated names, -although I have frequently held as hazy impressions concerning them as -I did of Mr. Cleveland's honored cognomen. The politicians of my -native state have all gone by names that were as sounding brass and -tinkling cymbals to my untutored ears until the last few days, when I -have turned in and studied them as most girls study new embroidery -stitches. - -This is, in part, what I have learned: Appleton is our governor and is -said to be everything that Charles I. of England was beheaded -for--"tyrant, traitor, murderer, and enemy to his country." I know -this is true because the paper we take says so; and if you are going -to doubt what your favorite newspaper says, why, then, do you take it? -I believe in loyalty above everything, and I think if the paper which -supports the other side of the question should, by mistake, be thrown -into your yard, you ought to run and kick the horrid sheet over the -fence into the gutter. That is, if you are a man. If you are a lady I -advise you to use the tongs for the purpose, especially if there is -any one passing by at the time. - -Personally, I do not know Mr. Appleton, but I heard one fat, motherly -woman, whose son held a job under him, say that he was such a -kind-hearted governor because he set free so many poor prisoners! This -remark impressed me, and I was beginning to think well of him, when -here came that paper again (Rufe's paper) saying that the governor was -turning them loose at so much per, a murderer being a little higher in -price than a "pistol-toter," who, in turn, is more expensive than a -boot-legger, the last really being a kind of bargain-day leader, -inasmuch as he is such a help to the administration! - -Well, I dare say no governor is a hero to all the papers in his state! - -This is quite enough penmanship wasted on Mr. Appleton anyway; for he -is as dead as Philadelphia on Sunday, and the public, with its -handkerchief held to its nose, is only waiting until next election, -when quicklime will be poured over the remains by the young and -gallant Richard Chalmers. - -Of course, you understand the cause of the political unrest? It is the -whisky question, and everything in our state has been turned upside -down by it; that is, everything except the whisky. It is turned upside -down only when there is a glass under the bottle. Mr. Appleton favors -this phase of the whisky agitation. - -Next in importance after the governor is a man named Blake, Jim Blake, -whom nobody ever calls James, and who is so much like a big fat worm -that I never pass him in the streets without wanting to mash him. He -is like one of those soft, white worms, you know, which I am sure I -have eaten dozens of on nights when I used to take a handful of -chestnuts to bed with me. - -In the mountainous regions during his campaigns, they say, to make -himself solid with the boys, Jim Blake uses bad English and good -whisky; in the cities he uses good English and better whisky. All in -all, he is the most popular man in the state--a fact which makes you -wish you had anticipated Carlyle's remark about the population of his -country being mainly fools. - -Major Blake was a power in politics a few years back, then he went -into obscurity for a while, on account of an ailing daughter, it was -said, who had to live in the West if she would live at all. The story -goes the rounds that at one time he gave up a senatorship for the sake -of staying with this daughter; and, if this is true, I beg his pardon -for calling him a worm! - -Her name is Berenice Blake, which sounds so beautiful to me that I -feel sure her mother must have been the one who named her. I suppose -she improved somewhat in health from her outdoor life in the West, for -her father came back after a while, and at this present time she makes -frequent vibrations between her home and Denver, every one of which -causes prolonged paroxysms in the society columns. - -In his political affiliations Jim Blake is like--like--my kingdom for -a simile! I might with truth say that he is like a chameleon, but I -have already likened him to a worm, and I do not care about getting -reptiles on the brain, especially this late at night. Also I might say -that he is like a lake of quicksilver, except that such a body would -resemble a stagnant, green-scummed pool compared with the surface -spring of his opinions--opinions which vary with the tinkle of silvery -sounds. - -Yet the fact is there, and as immovable as a window-sash in wet -weather, that he is the most popular man in the state. And, while what -I have repeated about him is truth, or as near truth as anything is -supposed to be in politics, it is disloyal gossip coming from me -_now_, for Jim Blake is at home at present, he is unpledged, and we -are hoping high hopes that he will come out on our side. The spectacle -is pretty much like a body of priests which might be standing by -watching for the devil to shed horn, hoofs and tail and put on a clean -collar, buttoned behind. - -With their zest for canonizing their leaders I wonder what the -temperance workers _will_ do with a man as handsome as Richard -Chalmers is said to be? How the "popular young ladies" of the towns -will fall over one another in trying to present him with a great sheaf -of roses at the close of his speech! I hate that bouquet-presenting -worse than anything else done by the women who mix up with candidates! -Men hate it, too, and when I sounded Rufe on the subject he just -frowned and said: "Oh, it's _awful_, but what are you going to do?" I -suggested that he have the candidate say "Please omit flowers," or "I -will not look upon the roses while they are red," or words to that -effect, at the close of his speech. - -But Rufe shook his head sadly. - -"There are three things in this life that a woman is a fool about," he -explained to me, "the surgeon who removes her appendix, the minister -who saves her soul, and the politician who lets her 'take on' over him -in public!" - -"But the candidate _hates_ the flowers and the praying at the polls and -the general patting on the back like 'he's-mamma's-good-little-boy' -that they inflict upon him, doesn't he?" - -"I should _think_ so," Rufe admitted. - -I was studying over this phase of the next year's campaign when I -attacked the pile of papers in my lap and was wondering if Richard -Chalmers would hate the fuss they would inevitably make over him. - -June 14, 15, 16, I glanced through without finding anything of -interest, and it was tiresome work. Oh, why did I not realize at the -time these papers were fresh and new that they held a "pearl of -wondrous whiteness?" It would have saved all this trouble. But likely -Mammy Lou had used the _very_ one to kindle the fire with. That would -be worse than tramping the rare jewel in the ground! Ah! - -Was it prophetic that just as I was thinking over the words "rare -jewel" the object of my search met my eyes? Of course, you are not -stupid, my journal, and you have long ago seen that I was looking -diligently for all the news, but _mostly_ the picture of Richard -Chalmers, the good-looking young David who might slay the monster -Goliath, if he would take his smooth pebble from a _brook_ and not -from a brewery! - -Well, it was the picture I found, and his name was in big letters -beneath. I looked at the face first, then quickly at the name, but I -put the two together with difficulty. - -"So Richard Chalmers is _you_!" I said aloud in my surprise. Then I -stared at the picture as steadfastly as Ahmed Al Kamel must have -looked at the portrait of the princess, the first woman's face he had -ever seen. A feeling of superstition came stealing over me and daring -me to say that this was only a happen-so. - -"So it's _you_," I repeated without moving my eyes from the picture, -"and that must be why I felt such a curious interest in this political -business." - -The stuffy heat of the tight little room, the piles of dusty old -papers, the politics and rumors of politics were all forgotten in a -twinkling as my memory bounded back and even took in the details of -the landscape that dull day last November when I saw him first. Alfred -Morgan had asked me to drive with him out one of the pikes where he -had a call to make. I was at Cousin Eunice's and he had called me by -telephone to ask me to go; Cousin Eunice and Ann Lisbeth were -wrestling over an intricate shirt-waist pattern, but they both stopped -long enough to insist that it was too cold for me to go so far out -just for the fun of going. But I insisted equally as firmly upon -going, so Ann Lisbeth made me wear her motor bonnet and long fur coat, -which were very becoming. - -Our route lay out one of the pikes which I like most, a beautiful -driveway, with a lovely little Jewish cemetery about three miles out. -I found that it _was_ cold, and when we reached the cemetery I asked -Alfred to put me out so that I could walk around a bit and try to get -warm--while he made his call just a short distance farther up the -road. He could honk-honk for me if I had wandered out of sight by the -time he came back. We frequently did that way. - -Then it was that I first saw Richard Chalmers, coming out of the -little red lodge house at the gates of the cemetery. He was dressed in -gray, with a long gray overcoat and a soft gray hat; and his fairness -made no break in the dull monochrome of the surroundings. The -brilliant-hued lodge, with the Oriental dome, made the only warm spot -of color in my line of vision, but he was looking at me, too, and I am -sure he saw other spots of color, for my face flushed somewhat as I -recognized him as being the first man I had ever seen in my life whom -I cared about looking at. - -He must be tall, for the coat he wore that day was quite long, but I -do not remember taking in any details except his face. This was -natural, for it appeared to me then as being a very good face to look -at, even aside from the peculiar charm which afterward made me -remember it so. Cameo-like in its distinctness, with steel-gray eyes, -it reminded me of the face I used to tell Jean about years ago when we -each had an Ideal. "Cold-blooded and lean as Dante," my description -had been in those bygone days, and Richard Chalmers' face strangely -fitted it, though by no means so cold nor so lean as I had formerly -thought necessary for perfect charm. It was only lean enough to be -intellectual-looking, and, if the keen gray eyes were cold, they were -also strong. His hair was short and of a very light-brown color; I -remembered this distinctly, for he had taken off his hat as he bade -good-by to whoever was inside the lodge, and he had stood a moment -bareheaded as he saw me, and looked at me with a degree of well-bred -surprise. There was nothing unusual in this, for, in driving out the -country roads with Alfred and Doctor Gordon, I have often observed -that when two well-dressed people pass each other they usually look. -Each one is likely wondering what the other is doing so far from the -madding crowd. - -I was wondering what he was doing, Anglo-Saxon that he so evidently -was, coming from a Hebrew cemetery; then he untied the hitch-rein of a -horse that was restlessly twitching its head at a post near by, jumped -into the light buggy and drove off. Alfred and I passed him a little -later on, for he had been driving slowly, evidently to the distaste of -the horse. The creature was just the kind of animal you would expect a -man of his appearance to drive--slim and satiny and fast. Alfred -slowed up as we were passing, for the horse had drawn quickly to one -side of the road and was trembling with fright. The man in the buggy -held a tight rein and spoke a soothing word to her, then turned and -regarded us again. My heart bounded as our eyes met, and I wondered -why he had driven back to town so slowly. - -The marked look of intellect which his face bore gave it an appearance -of asceticism, which his handsome clothes and general make-up belied. -He looked almost as unworldly as a monk--a monk fashionably dressed -and driving a race-horse! - -We passed each other again the very next week, in the lobby of the -city hall this time, where I had gone with Ann Lisbeth to pay the -water-tax. He was talking with two men, and, as he recognized me, he -drew both of these men slightly to one side that Ann Lisbeth and I -might make our way to the elevator without being crowded. This time I -had passed so close to him that I could see the tiny lines around his -eyes, left there by the warring elements of his character, I imagined -afterward, when I was trying to recall every feature with its own -expression and thereby piece out, to my own satisfaction, a nature for -my impressive Unknown. - -"He may do bad things sometimes," I finally concluded triumphantly, -"but he never enjoys doing them, because he has a conscience that -will not let him." - -Once again I saw him, some time afterward, at the entrance of a -theater one crowded night when the most popular actress on the -American stage was playing. An emotional little actress she is, whose -feelings seem to be stationed largely in her finger-tips, for she uses -them as if she were talking to deaf mutes with them. I criticized the -play, pronounced the leading man a "plumber," made remarks about the -extravagant finger-play and otherwise spoiled my pleasure to such an -extent that I realized for the first time what a hold upon my -imagination the face of this Unknown had taken. He had passed quite -close, but he had not seen me! - -After this I had thought about him very often, and, while he was not -exactly only a "type" to me, as I had been careful to explain to -Cousin Eunice, still, as the weeks slipped by and I had not seen him -again, his face became a kind of pleasant picture that I might draw -out sometimes and look at. A miniature, it must have been, for I -carried it with me everywhere I went; and it always seemed to bring -with it a sudden radiance, like a burst of sunshine at the close of a -dreary day. - -A burst of sunshine at the close of a dreary day! The words were -lingering pleasantly in my memory when I was called back to earth by -the united voices of my family. - -"Ann!" mother called. "_Ann!_" - -"I've looked all over the place for her," I heard Cousin Eunice say, -and the sound of hurrying feet toward the dining-room gave me a -suggestion that it was time to eat again. - -I ducked through the pantry door and made my way up-stairs without -being seen by any one. I bathed my face in cold water, which helped a -little, then I came on back down-stairs and faced them. They all -looked up at me. It was awful! - -"Where you been at?" Mammy Lou inquired in a low but penetrating voice -as I passed her at the dining-room door; and the question was repeated -in other degrees of sound and grammatical precision. They were all -looking at my damp forehead. - -"I tried to find you an hour ago," Cousin Eunice said, "I wanted to -tell you the news." - -"And I wanted you to polish the silver on the sideboard," mother said -in an injured voice. - -"Ann, we looked evvywhere fer you," Waterloo chimed in, with his mouth -so full that Cousin Eunice's attention was attracted to it and she -made him unload the portions of nourishment that were visible -externally. "Me and Grapefruit found a little _tarrypin_. Aunt Mary -said you wasn't scared of 'em!" - -"Well, I'm glad it was nothing more important than a 'tarrypin' that -needed my ministrations," I began, thankful for a topic so entirely -earthly, but there was a hue and cry. - -"Important!" Cousin Eunice exclaimed. "There are three mighty -politicians coming here to dinner to-night!" - -"And the silver needs polishing," mother supplemented. - -"Rufe was talking with them over the telephone this morning," father -explained. "They are in Bayville at a temperance rally and will have -to come here to-night to catch a car back to the city. Mother and I -thought it would be a shame to let them go to the hotel for -dinner--they're such friends of Rufe's." - -"Now, you needn't lay it on Rufe," mother said, smiling at him. "You -know that if an Englishman dearly loves a lord, an American dearly -loves a lion. It's _you_ who want to hear them roar." - -"Richard Chalmers is the only lion, so don't look so startled, Ann," -Rufe said, as he began passing me things to eat; but I was not hungry. - -"The other two likely eat with their knives," Cousin Eunice added -soothingly, as she still used her endeavors toward having Waterloo -feed himself like an anthropoid being. - -"Oh, Ann doesn't worry over company," mother said, as she glanced at -me again. "She's been asleep. That's what makes her look--startled." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -PRINCE CHARMING - - -I had not been asleep, but I had been in a dream; a dream from which I -had awakened to a state of greater unreality. - -After the meal was over and the family had all left the dining-room I -was still in a dream as I rolled my sleeves up high and began giving -hasty dabs with the metal polish to the ancient silver on the -sideboard. How delightful it is to have heirloom silver! I failed even -to grow cross over the long, hot search for flannel cloths and the -gritty feeling which this distasteful task always leaves around my -finger-tips. - -Still in a dream, I stood at the back kitchen door and watched Dilsey -decapitate the plumpest fowls the poultry yard boasted. I saw Lares -and Penates flying up and down the cellar steps, and to the garden, -orchard and vineyard--all at the same time. Later on in the afternoon -I was still dazed when I saw the ominous black signs of a -thunder-storm coming up darkly from the southwest; and I heard father -out in the hall using strong language at the telephone when he learned -that the liveryman had sent Bob Hall, the town idiot, to Bayville to -bring the lions back. - -Now Bob Hall is a kind-hearted, narrow-eyed lad, whose mind has never -been right because his mother drove twenty miles to a circus just -before he was born, so the villagers explained; but, be that as it -may, Bob has never been able to learn much beyond when to say "Whoa" -and "Git up," but the joy of his life lies in saying these, so that -the liverymen of the town are glad to have him hang around the stables -and help with the horses at feeding and watering-time. Because the -regular driver was a little drunker than usual to-day Bob had been -sent to Bayville on that delicate commission! - -"He's just as likely as not to dump 'em out in a mud-hole," father -said wrathfully, as he hung up the receiver when mother implored him -to leave off swearing over the telephone during an electrical storm. -"He'll make some kind of mess of it--you see if he doesn't." - -I shuddered as I pictured that elegant gray overcoat all disfigured -with mud; then I shuddered again at being such an idiot as to imagine -he would have on an overcoat in August. And I wondered how he would -look without it, and decided that he would look grand, of course! - -About five o'clock the storm burst in good earnest, the rain coming -down in heavy sheets at first and later settling into a lively drizzle -that promised to be good for all night. - -With the rain came a noticeable effort on the part of father's -rheumatism to attract attention to itself; and Mammy Lou began -clapping her hand over her right side in an alarming manner. - -Ever since an attack of gall-stones which she suffered over a year -ago, and through which she was safely steered by Alfred Morgan--which, -of course, placed him upon an Alfred-the-Great pinnacle in the -affections of the whole family--we have all turned in and helped Mammy -Lou with her work. Especially when company is coming we agitate our -minds over the actual meat and bread part of the entertainment, which -I abominate, for personally I am domesticated only so far as frothy -desserts and embroidered napkins go; and I am now able to understand -the decline of hospitality in the South. - -Why, since mammy's spell I have actually learned how to "do up" my -best blouses, which is a joy so long as I am working on the front, -where the embroidery stands out in satisfying bas-relief, but I am -ready to weep and long for father's vocabulary by the time I reach the -gathers of the sleeves. I should certainly let these go unironed if -mammy did not always come to the rescue with a few deft strokes of the -Gothic-shaped end of the iron. - -I must say, though, that she accepts our help with an exalted -indifference, for, since that awful pain in her side, things temporal -have been of small moment with her. She has turned to the comforts, or -discomforts, of a deeply Calvinistic religion, and is so keen-scented -after sin that when I darn stockings on Sunday morning I have to lock -my door and pull down the window-shades. - -The only symptom of remaining worldliness which I have noted since her -belated conversion, besides her overwhelming desire to get me married -off to Alfred (my only rival in her affections) was exhibited early -this last spring, when her above-mentioned "boarder" was a new-comer -in our neighborhood and father had engaged his services to "break up" -the garden. - -Sam, the homesick stranger, made strong appeal to mammy's hospitality, -quite aside, as we thought, from the natural susceptibility of her -affections. The man was big and _yellow_, mammy's favorite color in -husbands, and I scented danger one night soon after he came when I -happened to see her place before him on the table in the kitchen a -mighty dish of "greens" flanked on all sides with poached eggs. - -He was busily plying her with questions, between mouthfuls, and when -he asked her point-blank "what aged 'oman she was" she threw her head -so coquettishly to one side that she splashed half a plateful of "pot -liquor" on the floor, as she responded airily: "Oh, I don't rickollect -exactly! I'm forty-five, or fifty-five, or sixty-five--somewhere in -the _fives_!" - -We held our breath for the next few weeks, expecting at any moment to -hear that mammy had decided to out-Henry Henry Eighth, but her -religion was too fresh and too enjoyable for her to resign it and -marry the seventh time, which she realized would be a bad example for -her progeny. Still, there was Sam, in dangerous propinquity, three -times a day; and he was broad-shouldered and _enchantingly_ yellow! -She withstood, as long as it was in her poor, affectionate heart to -withstand; then she compromised and took him as a boarder! After -searching about for a means of easing her conscience for this -concession she lit upon Lares and Penates as brands to be snatched -from the burning; and she taught them such doleful facts about the -uncertainty of their salvation that the last time Alfred was down here -we persuaded him to threaten her with nervous prostration for Lares if -she persisted in her gloomy preachments. - -"A boy or girl's responsible for they sins as soon as the bumps breaks -out on they faces," she was telling them this afternoon, when the -storm was at its worst, and the two sat huddled with Grapefruit behind -the stove, like poor little frightened chickens in a fence corner. - -Mother, who had not seen the meaning gestures that mammy had been -making toward her volcanic right side, was inclined to make light of -the sins of the twins, and suggested that they come out from behind -the stove, so that the minute the rain held up a little they could run -on down to the ice-factory and tell the man to hurry with the ice. We -were going to have our favorite caramel cream that night. - -But with mother's advent into the kitchen the pains in mammy's side -grew much worse, and she began suggestions that she didn't know but -what the Lord was going to strike her with another spell, "for the old -dominecker rooster had been crowin' sad all day!" - -The rain kept on, and late in the afternoon the ice-man telephoned -that some of the machinery at the factory was broken, so there would -be no ice! Then father's rheumatism suddenly grew so bad that we had -to stop our preparations for the feast, and spent half an hour -searching for the stopper to the hot-water bag. He must have that bag -put to his shoulder, he declared, but after we gathered all the -essentials together and put it there he could not stand it on account -of the heat! - -Upon going back to the kitchen to temper the water down a little I was -astounded at mammy's declaration that, if Dilsey would go down to the -cabin and bring up her easy chair, while I held an umbrella over it, -she would _try_ to stay up long enough to direct _us_ about finishing -that dinner! Did ever a girl have such dreams and such nightmares -mixed up together? - -Night descended rapidly, as night has ever had a way of doing when you -are in a fearful hurry, and mother was distractedly searching through -her recipe book for a dessert that could be quickly made, yet when -finished would be grand enough to set before gubernatorial timber! - -Her maternal love had caused her steadily to refuse my help with the -dessert, and she made me run on up-stairs for a final bath and a few -minutes of manicuring before time to dress. "Be sure to dress -carefully," she had bidden me, as she always does, for sometimes I am -inclined to be a little absent-minded in the matter of hooks and eyes; -but her warning was superfluous to-night. - -"Make yourself beautiful--an' _skase_," is Mammy Lou's favorite slogan -in the campaign after masculine admiration, and I had prepared to -carry it out so far as nature and instinct would permit. I had -carefully pressed my prettiest white gown, a filmy, ruffled thing, and -spread it out on my bed, with a petticoat that was long enough, but -_not_ too long, lying conveniently near. Where is the woman who has -not shed tears and used feminine profanity because she could not find -exactly the right petticoat at an eleventh-hour dressing? - -As I came into my room I glanced toward the bed with a feeling of -complacency, then I turned on the lights and looked more closely. My -hopes fell and I saw that the gown had shared in the general -determination of everything on the place to go wrong that afternoon -because we were so particularly anxious that all should go right. A -window near the bed had been left open, in the hurry and confusion, -and the dress had seemed to drink in every bit of dampness that it -could find lying around loose. It looked as limp and dejected as if it -had slept in an upper berth the night before. I had no other thin -dress that was available, with all its attachments, at that hour, so I -laid aside my ambition to look romantic and slipped on a -shirt-waist--with a collar so stiff that it scratched my neck until I -looked as if I bore the marks of the guillotine. - -Toward eight o'clock, after it was inky dark, and mother had got her -dessert safely stored away in the refrigerator to cool, she and I were -taking a breathing spell in the dining-room, although we were holding -our breath every other minute, listening for the approach of wheels, -when the night began to be made hideous by the sounds of the most -violent calf distress down in the lot. - -"Ba-a-a-h! _Ba-a-a-a-ah!_" came in hoarse, hollow bellows to our -already overstrained ears. - -"It's that hateful little Jersey," mother said, starting up and going -toward the kitchen. "He has his head caught in the fence again!" - -"You sit still," I said, drawing her back toward her chair, "I'll go -and send Penates to unfasten him." - -There were savory odors in the kitchen, and mammy was so interested in -the final outcome of the meal that she had abandoned her temporary -throne and was stirring around the stove as usual. The three little -negroes were gathered at the window, looking out into the blackness -and listening with enjoyable horror at the turbulent sounds from the -cow-lot. - -"Go and unfasten him, Penates," I said. "He'll kill himself and us, -too, with that noise!" - -But Penates looked at me to see if I could be in earnest. When he saw -that I was he began to whine. - -"I's a-skeered to!" he half whimpered. - -"The idea! A great big boy like you! What are you afraid of?" - -"Granny's done tol' us the devil's gwiner ketch us," he began, and, as -he saw mother coming in at the kitchen door, he looked appealingly -toward her; but the nerve-racking strain of the afternoon had done -its work with her--and the calf voice was something frightful! - -"Your granny's an old idiot," she said forcefully, looking with wrath -toward the stove, where mammy was peering into the oven in an entirely -detached fashion. "You go straight and unfasten that calf!" - -"Mis' Mary, I declare he'll ketch me ef I so much as step outside the -do' there in the dark! Granny's jus' now tol' us he's watchin' ever' -minute to ketch us--" - -"Lou, you ought to be ashamed of yourself to stuff these children's -minds full of lies!" mother said, exasperated out of all semblance of -her gentle, even-tempered self by the piled-up mishaps of the -afternoon and the anguish of the present moment. - -In case you have never heard a calf with his head caught in the fence -I will state, under oath, that the diabolical sounds of the Brocken -scene in Faust are dulcet music compared with the cry for help that -the terrified creature sends forth. It usually brings the neighbors -for miles around to find out the cause of the trouble, or rather _why_ -the trouble is permitted to continue--for every one who has ever heard -it once knows its sound for ever. What an unlovely salute for Prince -Charming when he should drive up in the rainy, black night, I was -thinking in agony! - -Mammy straightened up and looked at mother as steadfastly as she had -looked the day she announced her determination of marrying Bill -Williams, the "Yankee nigger." - -"It's a _sin_ to teach children about the devil!" Mother's voice was a -challenge. - -"_Sin?_ Why, Mis' Mary!" Mammy's tones were husky with horror. "An' -you been a church member for thirty years!" - -"Well, the devil has never entered into my calculations in all those -thirty years," mother responded hotly, not observing that father had -slipped up close behind her and was listening to the theological -controversy with an amusement which had routed his rheumatism. - -"Well--that's between you an' your Maker," mammy argued stoutly. "I'm -goin' to treat _my_ devil with some respeck, if white folks _don't_ -mention theirs no mo' than if he was a po' relation that lived in -Arkansas!" - -Father was smiling almost audibly, but mother was not looking in his -direction--and the little Jersey had evidently found no balm in Gilead -for his afflicted head! - -"I don't believe there's any _such_ thing as a devil!" mother finally -broke out with vehemence; and she had turned quickly around as if she -would go to the cow-lot herself, when she beheld father standing -there, a look of amazement upon his face. - -"_Mary!_ Have I lived to hear you deny the faith of your fathers?" - -But mother was in no mood for banter. - -"Don't _you_ talk to me about the devil, Dan Fielding!" she said, -facing him squarely, and reluctantly unfolding her daintiest linen -handkerchief to wipe the little beads of perspiration from across her -upper lip. "I've had enough to make me believe in him this day, with -three politicians coming, and a thunder-storm, and a broken -ice-factory, and rheumatism and gall-stones!" - -"Well, you know _you_ were the one who suggested inviting them here," -father defended himself, Adam-like. - -"Well, maybe I was, but I should never have dreamed of such a thing if -you hadn't said, with that woebegone look of yours that you wished -you could see them and hear them talk about the latest phases of the -situation! Then, just to please you, I suggested that it was too bad -to let them go to that dreadful hotel for dinner, when it would be no -trouble for Mammy Lou to prepare one of her delightful meals!" - -"Of course, neither one of us could know beforehand how deucedly -contrary everything was going to turn out to-day, else I should have -told you _not_ to invite them"--father was reiterating in what he -intended for a soothing tone, when all of a sudden I heard the tramp -of feet upon the front porch, for my ears all the time had been -straining in that direction, else I should never have heard them, far -away as the kitchen is, and with that hideous noise. - -"_Hush!_" I implored, as the footfalls grew quite distinct and I -pulled down my cuffs, settled my belt, fluffed my hair out a little -more at the sides, and flicked a tiny feather off the toe of my shoe. -"They've come!" - -"And Ann in a shirt-waist suit," mother sent after father as a final -shot when he started toward the front part of the house, "and that -bovine orchestra!" - -She hurried into her bedroom and made a motion with her powder-puff -before she followed father, while I stopped in the dining-room and -gave a glance of satisfaction at the shaded lights, the old-fashioned -good taste of the furnishings, and the quantities of roses. The table -was perfect, and I knew mammy too well to doubt that the dinner, too, -would be everything that palate or eye could desire; then I glanced -into the great old gold-framed mirror hung above the mantelpiece. - -"I believe he'll enjoy his dinner," I decided, nodding in a friendly -fashion toward the reflection in the glass; and, hearing the voices -still coming from the direction of the porch, I hurried on out there. - -They had come! In truth they had come, but alas it was not Richard -Chalmers and satellites! It was Miss Delia Badger, Mrs. Sullivan and -Neva, drenched and bewildered, that Bob Hall, the fool, had brought -from Bayville! - -"Oh, Mrs. Fielding," poor Mrs. Sullivan was saying beseechingly, as -she looked at mother's startled face, "_do_ you know what's happened -to Tim? We was to stay another week at maw's, but when Bob Hall drove -into Bayville at dinner-time to-day and said he'd come after somebody -that wanted to get took back here to Mr. Fielding's house, I knew it -must a-been Tim took sick and sent for me! So we all piled right in -without waitin' for me to belt down my Mother-Hubbard!" - -"Jumping Jerusalem!" said father, and the calf bellowed dismally. - - * * * * * - -Investigation had shown the Sullivan cottage to be locked and barred, -and the supposition was that Tim, although not already sick, was in a -fair way to be so in the morning, as persistent telephoning on my part -finally located him at the drug store with a crowd of friends whose -company was both cheering and inebriating. - -"I better git Bob to drive down there an' git 'im," Mrs. Sullivan -suggested forlornly, looking at Bob, who was leaning against one of -the big, white columns and twirling his cap around on one finger. - -"For heaven's sake, _don't_," father objected. "He'll be just as -likely to drive up with the county undertaker as with Tim Sullivan! -I'll go myself." - -"But who'll get the calf out of the fence corner?" mother asked -anxiously, as father walked to the hat-rack for an umbrella. - -"_Me!_" cried Bob, speaking for the first time, but to so much purpose -that we all beamed gratitude upon him. - -So, after being "much tossed about by land and on the deep," the calf -was finally loosed from his pillory, the Sullivans were settled in the -sanctuary of their own home, the lovely dinner was eaten in silence, -and our family went grumpily to bed. - -Then this morning early the three belated dinner guests drove in from -Bayville. The two lesser lights caught the nine-o'clock car into the -city, but Mr. Chalmers drove on to the little hotel in the village and -later presented himself, in due calling season, at our house, with -apologies for the catastrophe of last evening. Mother said he had -spoken of it as catastrophe before I came into the room, but when he -mentioned the accident to me later on in the day, as we two sat quite -apart from the others, he referred to it as _calamity_. - -Father and Rufe urged him to spend the day, an invitation which mother -warmly seconded after a moment's quick recollection of how many of the -dainties left over from last night's feast could be creamed and pated -and souffled. - -He said it was rather necessary for him to be in town that day, but he -stayed; and father and Rufe both remembered during the course of the -forenoon that they had some matters to attend to which, if he would -excuse them for half an hour or so, they would despatch with all -possible haste and rejoin him before the ladies had quite had time to -talk him to death! - -Rufe really did have some telephoning to the city to get through with; -it is his regular morning duty; and father had to drive across part of -our place to give directions about some fences which had been washed -away last night. Of course, mother was needed about the dining-room, -but Cousin Eunice, bless her, unselfishly betook herself off up-stairs -out of pure kindness of heart! - -Even the day was one of those golden days which come at the very end -of summer, when the cool morning air mounts to the head like old wine, -and the rich afternoon sunshine seems to hover lovingly over the earth -and rejoice in having fulfilled the summer's glorious promise. All -through the morning the birds caroled as happily as if they thought it -was winter instead of summer a-dying; then later, they settled down -like the rest of the world in the hushed silence of the hot afternoon, -when the heat causes a brilliant haze over the fields around; and it -seems as if all nature rests. - -All my life this hour of summer afternoons has held a strange, -undefinable sadness. When I was a little girl and used to spend long -hours out under the trees reading, my book would always drop from my -hand as this period of stillness came on, and my eyes would wander -away to the intense blue of the sky and the dazzling whiteness of the -distant clouds, while a small but persistent voice seemed to keep -mocking my memory with the query: "_Can't_ you remember what used to -happen on days like this?" - -And my memory would grope longingly away after the lead of that -tormenting voice, and it would visit all the far-away lands of -Romance, summer lands of sunshine always, Italy, India, Egypt--but it -never would remember exactly. "Where Tasso's spirit soars and sings," -I used to repeat in a mystified wonder, for the beauties of his land -were as familiar to me as my own fields and meadows. - -Then I grew older and learned about reincarnation of the spirit. -"That's it!" I cried exultantly, hugging the beautiful mysticism to my -heart. "That is _bound_ to be it!" - -Life took on a new significance, and then for months I felt myself one -with the initiated! I was radiantly happy and achingly miserable with -this new, intangible philosophy; then Alfred Morgan came along and -told me that my vague memories were imagination; and that my restless -longings came from a perpetual idleness. And I believed him, because I -could not hear any statement from Alfred Morgan's lips without -believing it. - -"I'd rather have tuberculosis than an imagination like yours, Ann," he -had said, and he advised me to learn to cook. - -Perhaps it was the extraordinary beauty of the day and the -surroundings that led our talk into unusual channels as Richard -Chalmers and I walked out together through the golden afternoon haze. -Yes, we had our hour alone again, as in the morning; but not by -accident this time. He had graciously demanded it. - -"Can't you rescue me from Clayborne's relentless newspaper spirit?" he -had asked in a low tone while we were at the table. I smiled assent, -whereupon he looked at me gratefully and a few minutes later announced -that I had promised to show him the orchard where those magnificent -peaches grew. - -So it happened that when the rest of the family dispersed in different -directions, early in the afternoon, I pinned on a big, flat hat--a -white embroidered affair, with a great bow of black velvet -ribbon--and walked with him out into the glow. Down the avenue of -cedars we went and up the broad road, for the orchard can be reached -through a big gate opening off the pike, and the distance is much -longer around that way. We soon gained the desired shade of its -luxuriant leafiness, and I pointed out to him our most noteworthy -trees. He admired their beauty without looking at them. - -After walking around the orchard a bit we finally sat down on a -fragment of stone wall, a prehistoric structure, which still protects -a portion of the grounds; and he took off his hat and began to fan -with it. His forehead was a little damp, and, as he wiped away the -perspiration, I observed again the exceeding fairness of his skin. His -hair, too, is so nearly light that the sprinkling of gray is almost -unnoticed, save by the closest scrutiny. - -My survey of him, while at close range, was quite brief, for, after a -remark or two about the heat at this time of day, he turned to me -suddenly and asked with disconcerting straightforwardness: - -"What were you doing that day at the gates of the little cemetery?" - -"Oh! Why, I was walking around--trying to get warm." - -I longed to ask him what he was doing there. - -"I figured that day that you were a faithful little soul, going out to -visit some hallowed spot. You looked so strikingly dark and _vivid_ -against the colorless background of the sky that I quite thought you -were Oriental. Then the next time I saw you, in the lobby of the city -hall--do you remember?--Well, you were with a tall, foreign-looking -woman, a Russian, I imagined; so that convinced me--" - -"She is a Pole," I corrected, "but she's the wife of Doctor Gordon, a -great friend of ours." - -"--and that convinced me," he went on, as if Ann Lisbeth's nationality -were of no more moment to him than one of the bits of stone which I -had gathered up from fragments scattered over the top of the wall, and -was making white marks upon the solid rock sides with these tiny -splinters, "that you were foreign." Then, in a lower tone, and with -little hesitation in his delightful, drawling voice, he added: "I -called you Rebecca--because I had to call you something." - -"How disappointing to find me a plain American girl!" - -"When I found this morning that you are an American girl--I deny the -'plain'--I gave a start which I know was noticed by everybody in the -room! It isn't often that I lose my self-possession, but I was -_amazed_ to find you here, in this little town--and my friend, -Clayborne's, niece." - -"His wife's cousin," I explained, but again he paid no attention to my -interruption. - -"I had haunted the theaters and shopping districts for weeks last -winter--looking for Rebecca," he finished up. "No wonder I was -surprised to find that you are _you_!" - -He paused, waiting for me to say something, and, just because it was -the last thing I wished to say, and because I would not, for the -world, have had him suspect such a thing, I stammered out the truth! - -"I--I wondered who _you_ were, too," I faltered. "You are so entirely -Anglo-Saxon-looking; and the place is Hebrew! Besides, it was such a -very cold day to visit a cemetery!" - -He smiled a little, but politely caught at my bait. - -"I had been to see old man Cohen, the sexton. He is interested in -politics." - -Then we fell to talking about foreign types of faces, a subject which -he discussed extremely well, having traveled everywhere, as I felt -sure he had when I first laid eyes on him; and from the types of -beauty, we fell to discussing the various countries. He looked -surprised at what he termed the "wistful" note in my voice when I -asked him questions about my favorite lands; and he smiled when I -explained to him that I have never been anywhere. - -"So much the better for your enthusiasm," he said with the provoking -air of a person who has been everywhere and done everything--and found -it all a bore. "I judge that you are a very enthusiastic young woman." - -"My daily life is punctuated with exclamation points," I admitted, but -I longed to ask him how he knew I was enthusiastic. Still, it has -always seemed in bad taste to me for a girl to try to draw a man into -a long discussion of her personality--a new acquaintance, I mean. -Mammy Lou's slogan, "Make yourself beautiful, and _skase_," can be -applied in devious ways that she wotted not of when she handed it down -to me. - -"I suppose that is partly on account of your age?" he said, still -looking at me with his amused smile. - -My age! His tone and smile awoke a kind of resentment. He must feel -himself infinitely older and wiser, else he would never assume that -superior air. - -"Age has nothing to do with it! It is entirely a matter of -temperament," I contradicted, with a little show of feeling. He smiled -more broadly, and a hot flush of shame spread over my face as I -recalled my dreams of this man. I had thought of him for months, had -imagined him in every great and heroic role; had made a hero of him. -Worse still, I fancied that he--perhaps--had thought of me; had stayed -here to-day because he had found me! And here he was smiling down at -me as he made playful remarks about my age! - -"Why should you look distressed over a mention of your age?" he -suddenly broke in, so gently that I looked up in surprise and found -his face grave. He had been reading my thoughts--at least in part. -"Now, if you were as old as I--that would be something worth troubling -over." - -"You? Yet the papers always speak of your youth. They will call you -the 'boy governor' when you're elected." - -He was pleased at my words. - -"Or the boy who also ran--perhaps! But age is only a relative -condition. My political friends call me a boy because I am only -thirty-seven years old. Yet, to _you_ that age may seem patriarchal. -Doesn't it?" - -I thrilled at the look of earnestness in his eyes. He was the one now -who was concerned over what I thought of his age. - -"Rufe is thirty-seven," I answered, trying to make my tone -non-committal. - -"And yet you call him Rufe!" - -"I've known him always. He's like my brother." - -"Well, if you should some day grow to know me 'always,' could -you--even if I am thirty-seven--could you call me Richard?" - -I made several violent white marks upon the old rock wall with the bit -of stone in my hand before I attempted to answer this, the most -intimate question ever put to me by a man in my life. Except for -Alfred I had never known any other man well, and had certainly never -cared about sitting with one upon an old stone wall while the glorious -summer afternoon slipped by. All I knew of even incipient love-making -I had read in books, so that I could not tell whether his question -meant much or little. I had told him earlier in the afternoon that I -was booked for a long visit in the city this fall, whereon he had -congratulated himself on his friendly footing with the Claybornes. It -was possible he meant-- - -"Could you?" he repeated softly. - -I stopped making marks and threw away the bits of stone. I had opened -my lips to reply, although I do not know what I had intended saying, -when there was an Indian yell close behind us. - -"Whoopee! Here he is again!" came an exultant voice, and, glancing -around, we beheld a freshly bathed and dressed Waterloo, digging his -white linen knees and elbows into the soft black earth, as he raised a -radiant face and announced his second discovery of the "little -tarrypin." Grapefruit followed him at a respectful distance, while -Lares and Penates lingered shyly in the background when they espied -us. - -"And here's _Ann_," Waterloo explained, in great triumph, waving his -hand in my direction. "We can make her tote 'im back to the house for -us. She ain't skeered of 'em!" - -"Quick! Tell me!" Richard Chalmers insisted, and his seriousness made -me flippant. - -"Age has nothing to do with it! It is entirely a matter of -temperament!" - -He laughed, quite like a boy, as he sprang down from the wall and -extended both hands to help me. I grasped only one of his hands, and -that very lightly, as I stepped to the ground. - -We joined the little band of hunters and thus formed a funny -procession home. Mr. Chalmers and I were in the lead, his right hand -gingerly clutching a most disinterested-looking mud-turtle, while, -with the left, he attempted to help me over the rough places in the -road. Waterloo was close at our heels, while the three little negroes, -struggling with their giggles, tagged along behind. - -The task of "toting" a mud-turtle fitted so ill with his immaculate -clothes and intense dignity that I laughed every time I looked up at -him. And he laughed. Perhaps we should have done this, even if nothing -funny had happened, for the late afternoon was so beautiful, and -everything seemed so happy. The birds were all making a cheerful fuss -over going to bed, and the tinklings that lulled the distant folds -seemed to me, for the first time in my life, joyous. - -"I shall think of this scene the day you are inaugurated," I said, -still laughing, after the mud-turtle had been deposited in an empty -lard bucket and borne away by Waterloo and his retainers. We had -found ourselves alone for a moment in the shaded, deserted library. - -"You'll be there?" he asked, turning toward me as I stood on the -hearth rug and leaned my elbow against the white marble mantelpiece. -As he had carefully wiped from his finger-tips the imaginary dust from -the mud-turtle I had been studying his profile in the mirror. It was -the most perfect face I had ever seen--unless-- - -My eyes quickly traveled to the little oval portrait of Lord Byron, -the old-time idol of my beauty-loving soul. I used to kiss his picture -good night when I was twelve years old! - -I glanced back again to the living presence of beauty equally as -perfect. His gray eyes were upon me. - -"You'll be there--if I am ever inaugurated?" he asked again. - -"Of course. But you'll never see _me_." - -Outside there was a glorious sunset, red and yellow and orange. It was -like a sea of blood and a sea of gold, with a wonderful blending of -the two. The radiance was trying to steal in at the shaded window, and -I started across the room to open the blinds to its flood of glory. -He put out his hand and stopped me. - -"If you were there," he said slowly in his deep, rich voice--which is, -in itself, attraction enough for any _one_ man--"if you were there, I -should be far more conscious of _that_ than of the inauguration." - -And the quick look which followed these words made a feeling of having -been born again run in little zigzag streaks of joy to my finger-tips. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -NEVA'S BEAU BRUMMEL - - -Many days have passed since Neva and her mother made their dramatic -return from Bayville. - -These days have seemed long to me, but short to Neva, for protracted -meeting has been in progress--and she has had a beau swarm. The swell -young clerk at the Racket Store, who says "_passe_," most Frenchily, -and manicures his nails; a fat drummer who sells lard and sings bass; -a "wild" young man who drives a fast horse, which the villagers all -discuss above their breath, and who also does some other things which -they take care to discuss--but in whispers; all these have been -Neva's, besides Hiram Ellis, a young farmer whom she cares for most, -but makes the most fun of behind his back. - -I know that she cares for him, else she would never have counterfeited -a swoon one hot night in church when the service held on an -unconscionable time and she feared that Hiram would become impatient -and start on his five-mile drive to his farm, without waiting to -escort her home, as was his custom when she happened to be -unaccompanied by any of the "town fellows." - -From her point of vantage in the choir she could see that Hiram was -restlessly moving his hands and feet about, although he was seated on -the back bench and there was the church full of perspiring humanity -between her and the gawky object of her secret love. - -The minister continued to exhort and to perspire, as he drank glass -after glass of water; and, as the time for mourners seemed to draw no -nearer, Neva took that night's destiny into her own hands and -fainted--a stiff, peculiar faint. - -Fortunately she was sitting close by a small door which opens directly -out into the cool night air, so that her carrying-out could be -accomplished without any ungraceful display of uplifted feet and -sagging petticoats. Neva's artistic temperament could never have -endured that! - -The performance created small notice outside the choir. - -Hiram was around at that little back entrance in a twinkling, his -good-natured, sunburnt face a picture of devoted anxiety. Neva was -sitting on the steps shaking with a considerable degree of suppressed -emotion, but not looking particularly ill, and insisting that her -mother and Aunt Delia should go on back and hear the sermon to its -end, if, indeed, it had an end. This they did, after seeing Hiram -place Neva carefully in his buggy and start off home; but they failed -to reach the choir in time to see the whisperings which had passed -between two of Neva's rivals who sat there, and who were not -unobservant of the peculiar nature of her fainting-spell. - -"It wasn't like any faint _I_ ever saw before," some one openly -declared to Mrs. Sullivan after the service was over, whereupon the -whisperings between the rivals were renewed; and several days -thereafter the townspeople were frankly discussing Neva Sullivan's -"spell." - -In less than a week after the incident which I have just related, -because there is absolutely nothing of my _own_ happening that is -worth relating, Neva ran over one day in a great flurry of excitement -to consult my expert judgment as to what she should wear that night, -as a young gentleman from the city had come down to see her and was -coming out that evening to call. - -"A young gentleman from the city! How exciting!" I congratulated her. -"But I didn't know you knew any of the Beau Brummels up there!" - -"That's the curious part of it," she explained as she sat down and -panted a little, for she had run across the road and up our long walk. -"I don't know him--never heard of him before. But he telephoned me -from the hotel this afternoon that he had heard of me and had come -down to see me on business. His name is Doctor Simmons, and he said he -was very anxious to see me at once and give me some professional -literature." - -"Some professional _what_?" I asked, for she was talking very fast, -and her enunciation at best is not like a normal school teacher's. - -"Professional literature," she repeated, lingering over the words this -time as if they were chocolate creams. "I told mamma maybe he is a -poet. It sounded kinder like it, you know--him saying 'literature.'" - -"I don't believe that poets carry around _professional_ literature," I -said, trying to let her down easy, for she is a sad little -visionary--and somehow I have a sympathy for visionaries. But he was a -_man_, a new man, even though he might not be a poet, so Neva's -solicitude concerning him was in nowise dampened. - -"Well, that's what he said--'professional literature,'" she kept on -flutteringly--inconstant little minx, when only a week ago she had -disturbed "public worship" for the sake of driving home in Hiram -Ellis' buggy!--"So mamma said I better come on over and ask you how I -ought to dress to see him; and _oh_, how I ought to have the parlor -fixed! You go up to the city so often, of course you know all the -swell ways." - -"I reckon I _do_," I said confidently, for I could see the chance that -my hands had been itching for ever since I took the education of Neva -in charge. "First, you must empty the room of candy-boxes, for if he -is a prospective suitor, you see, all those boxes would frighten him -away. He would think you are entirely too popular already." - -"There ain't a girl in this town got half as many," she said rather -wistfully, and I saw that the loss of the boxes meant bereavement to -her. "Mine comes up to the top of the piano on _both_ sides, while -Stella Hampton's don't more than fill in under the bottom of the -center-table!" - -"But you must remember that he is a doctor," I reminded her -soothingly, "and they are awfully queer about _germs_. He might get it -into his head that those empty boxes were regular nests for them--and -they may be, for all we know." - -"All right--if you say so," the poor child said sorrowfully, and I -knew that her affection for me had been put to a fiery test. - -"Then the McKinley picture! It ought to come down. It is dismal, -somehow--it might cast a damper over his feelings." - -"All right," she agreed again, much more willingly this time. "I know -that Mr. Roosevelt _does_ look more cheerful, so, if you say so--" - -"But I _don't_," I almost shrieked. "We can put a tall vase of roses -in the space so that no picture will be needed." - -"Oh, that will be lovely," she exclaimed gratefully; "and I'll wear -flowers in my hair." - -"I believe black velvet ribbon will be prettier--just a band, you -understand--no combs or fancy pins. Your hair is too pretty to be -disfigured with ornaments." - -Her eyes showed slow, but gratified, comprehension. - -"And my dress--" she hurried on. - -"A rather plain white one," I suggested fearfully, for I apprehended -trouble there as with the candy-boxes. "You see, he'll not like to -find you with a dress which has lace all twisted and _tortured_ across -the front--doctors are such humane creatures." - -"I'm just dying to see what he looks like!" she exclaimed, her eyes -dancing. "And I'm so much obliged to you." - -"I hope you'll have a pleasant time with him," I started, when she -looked at me in dismay. - -"Oh, surely I'll see you again before he comes! Can't you come over a -little later on, or maybe after I'm dressed--to see if I am fixed all -right, and if the parlor looks swell?" Her big dark eyes held a -flattering appeal. - -"Why, of course! I'll be glad to get mother to run over there with -me--just before time for him to come," and she gave my arm a gratified -little squeeze and went away filled with charming anticipations. - -As the mystic hour approached, mother and I threw crocheted things -over our heads and started across the wide road which lay between the -houses. - -Drawing near the cottage we noticed a dim light bobbing about queerly -just off the front porch, and mother clutched my arm in agony. - -"Surely--_surely_ they're not hanging Japanese lanterns out in honor -of his coming!" - -"Oh, I hope not," I responded, feeling not at all certain as to the -course which Neva's enthusiasm might take. But as we clicked the gate -and passed on into the yard we discerned the generous outlines of Mr. -Tim Sullivan rising from a rickety, three-legged chair, which he had -placed directly in front of Mrs. Sullivan's nasturtium frame. This -frame was but a poor skeleton affair, having been built in the yard -early in the summer for the flowers to clamber up on, but the fall of -the leaf was approaching, and the flowers had refused to clamber. - -In one hand Mr. Sullivan held a small, smoky lamp, the flame of which -was entirely a one-sided affair; and in the other he brandished a -paint brush. We knew it was a paint brush because it out-smelt the -lamp. - -"Come in! Come right in," he invited us hospitably, and as he -gallantly approached to light us on our way up the walk, we caught a -whiff of his breath; and the paint brush and the lamp faded into -insignificance in the smelling line. - -"Why, what are you doing, Mr. Sullivan?" mother inquired as she -strained her eyes toward the nasturtium frame and saw big splotches -of green paint smeared about at intervals upon its wooden gauntness. - -"I'm painting," he explained politely, as he held the lamp high above -his head that it might cast its doubtful rays over the dark walk. -"Just painting." - -"But why paint to-night?" she persisted, doubtless wondering if this -was being done in honor of the "city beau." - -"Why, there ain't no time like the present, as I've always been told, -you know, Mrs. Fielding," he further elucidated, his voice growing -louder and louder as the distance between us increased, and as we -gained the freshly-scoured front steps he moved back toward his field -of operation and resumed his work. The wild sweeps of his brush gave, -in the dim light of the unsteady lamp, the impression of some weird -acrobatic performance. - -We went into the house and found the feminine portion of the family in -a state of conflicting emotions. Mrs. Sullivan was perfectly limp with -rage over the misfortune of having Tim even mildly drunk and -disorderly on the night when Neva's destiny might be hanging in the -balance. Neva herself was perturbed, but radiant, and was praying -cheerfully that something might happen to check her father's artistic -endeavors before the arrival of her beau. That Doctor Simmons was a -suitor for her hand, impressed by her beauty in some mysterious and -romantic manner, it had not entered into Neva's silly little head to -doubt; and since one of her friends had seen the young gentleman at -the hotel in the afternoon and had telephoned her that he was the -swellest-est dressed man to enter that town since Heck was a pup, her -expectations were soaring at dizzy heights. - -I found that fortunately she had spent the force of her own swell -longings upon the attire of her mother this time, inasmuch as I had so -urgently recommended simplicity for herself. The glittering combs and -bandeau were adorning Mrs. Sullivan's head, rising resplendent from -divers unaccustomed puffs and braids and curls. Mrs. Sullivan's hair -ordinarily wore a look of conventual severity, as did her hat, but -there was never any congeniality between the two. In fact they were -never on speaking terms. - -"I done it to please Nevar," she confessed to me, smiling wanly at her -reflection in the mirror, "but if I had a-had my way I wouldn't a-done -it. I don't like it. If I had a tubful o' wet clo'es on my head it -couldn't feel no heavier!" - -We were so cordially invited to remain and view the stranger from a -speechless distance that we finally consented to do so, occupying -straight chairs that would not creak and betray our presence as we sat -at the front window of the room opposite the parlor and breathlessly -awaited his arrival. - -Presently he came and we were repaid for waiting. When I had mentioned -him in the afternoon as being a possible Beau Brummel I little -realized what an inadequate term I had employed. Beau Brummel with all -his diamond-studded snuff-boxes was never rigged up to compare with -Doctor Simmons. In stature he was tall, in demeanor grave, in color -red-headed. His trousers were very light and his shirt was very pink, -while a large diamond stud gleamed from his glossy bosom. Two other -great stones were set in rings. His shoes were tan, but his hosiery -was not; and his broad straw hat had birds embroidered in the band. - -Neva received him nervously, her voice high-pitched and unnatural. -Mrs. Sullivan bade us sit still while she tiptoed around through the -back hall and up close to the parlor door, where she could overhear -the announcement of his mission. Her maternal anxiety justified this. - -We sat an interminable time, it seemed, listening to Miss Delia -Badger's low-toned conversation, which she felt must for politeness' -sake be kept up; but there was no light in the room, and we were thus -saved the pain of looking at her parti-colored hair, so it might have -been worse. - -After a long time Mrs. Sullivan came in. We could not see her face, -but her voice had the most doleful droop I had ever detected in its -depths, and she collapsed into the nearest chair. - -"He's a fit doctor," she announced briefly, after a moment's strained -silence. - -"A _what_?" - -"A fit doctor. He cures fits up at his hospital in the city. Somebody -from here wrote him that Nevar had done had one. He'll give a -gold-trimmed fountain pen for ever' name of a fitified person you'll -send him." - -"How unkind of the one who wrote him about Neva!" mother exclaimed in -an indignant whisper, but I was unable to speak. - -"'Twas some of them mean girls in the choir," Mrs. Sullivan pronounced -lifelessly. "They're always so jealous of Nevar having the most beaus -and the prettiest dresses." - -"Well, it's a shame!" mother repeated wrathfully. - -"What I'm worrying about _now_ is how to git 'im off without Tim -killing 'im," Neva's mother continued, still in an apathetic whisper. -"If he could catch the nine o'clock car out o' town to-night he would -be safe, but it's mighty near that time now. If he was to leave this -early and Tim out there painting he would stop 'im and ask 'im his -business. Then there would be a killing on the spot." - -It was not clear whether Tim would kill Doctor Simmons for curing fits -or Doctor Simmons would kill Tim for painting the nasturtium frame. -But mother was all anxiety to avert either tragedy. - -"Well, we'll run right on home this minute," she said, rising -hurriedly, and her inspiration was so sudden and so happy that she -forgot to whisper, "and ask Mr. Sullivan to go with us. Then Mr. -Fielding shall make him a mint julep--while you explain to the fit -doctor that he would better make haste back to his hospital." - -There were grateful whisperings from Mrs. Sullivan and her sister. - -"And you'll have to use a lantern to wave the car down," mother -turned back a moment to caution them, "for it's so dark they'll never -see you if you don't." - -But Mrs. Sullivan did not wait to tamper with the chimney of a -lantern. The smoky little lamp had been placed, still lighted, upon -the edge of the porch when mother had mentioned mint julep to Mr. -Sullivan. His wife caught it up and bore it along bravely after we had -crossed the road and entered the thick shade of our walk. She was -closely followed by a very homesick physician, whose one desire was to -leave this quiet little town, and an outraged but still admiring Neva. - -As we gained our front porch mother whispered a quick word into -father's ear and he hospitably bade Mr. Sullivan follow him into the -dining-room, while she and I quickly turned and fled back down the -walk to the front gate. - -Yes, they had him safely down at the car track, and in a very brief -while the car came along. Mrs. Sullivan made spasmodic little signals -with the lamp, which brought the car to a standstill, and also brought -forth a thousand rainbow gleams from the jewels in her hair. Doctor -Simmons stepped upon that running-board with all the alacrity of a -newsboy with a bundle of "extras." He deposited his package of -professional literature upon the seat in front of him, then turned and -gravely lifted his hat to the ladies. - -"Thank goodness!" mother said with a sigh of genuine relief as we -watched the car pull out. Then she turned to me and for the first time -that evening I could discern a smile in her voice. - -"Ann," she said, trying to speak seriously, "when I see other women's -daughters I know that I have much to be thankful for. You _are_ a -star-gazer and a poor cook, but, oh dear--you don't have beaus from -the city." - -"Touch wood before you boast," but she stopped and caught me by the -arm. - -"What do you mean, honey?" she questioned. "Has Alfred--" - -"No, indeed. I don't mean anything except that I am at the age of Eve -and--very hopeful." - -"Well, you _know_ what we all think of Alfred," she said, then stopped -still at the lower step and broke off a dead twig from a rosebush near -by. A shaft of light was shining from the hall and I could see that -her face was very earnest. It was the first time in my life she had -ever spoken to me of lovers. - -"And I think everything of Alfred that you do--and more," I assured -her, "but I am not in love with him. I might be--if--under other -circumstances----I might be, but not now!" - -She deliberately lingered at the steps, and we heard pleasant sounds -coming from the dining-room. - -"Eunice and I fancied that Mr. Chalmers looked at you--er, rather -attentively the other day," she ventured timidly, as if to try to draw -me out, yet dreading a little the answer I might make. - -"That might have been imagination," I parried. - -"But--we also imagined that _you_ looked at him." - -"Well," I answered with a laugh which I hoped would sound light, -"haven't you just said that I am a _star_-gazer?" - -With this admission I ran away up-stairs. - -Yes, I had looked at him. And since then it seemed that there had been -nothing for my eyes to rest upon that did not bear the impress of his -face. - -He had stayed through that long, perfect day, and had left when the -cool, white night was at the zenith of its beauty. The cool, white -night which, alas, had to be followed by a morning after! I had never, -until then, felt this way about the morning, for it has always been my -favorite time of day, my only thought upon arising being an eager -craving for the sunshine. But then, I had never known until that time -just what an exquisite thing night could be. - -There is a little sepia copy of the Sistine Madonna hanging across the -room from my bed where I can see it the first thing when I awake every -morning; and, on bright days there is a golden bar of sunlight which -comes traveling in and across the ceiling until it falls upon the -picture. I lie still and watch it until it has reached the Virgin's -heart, then I get up and open all the windows to the light. It serves -me in place of a clock, and much better, for it is true as to time, -and it has no unpleasant way of striking a sudden and disenchanting -note which breaks in upon my dreams. - -My warning little ray of sunshine was casting a spot of intense light -directly upon the Mother's heart as I turned and glanced toward it for -the first time on the morning after Richard Chalmers' visit, but I was -so tired that I lay still until it had traversed the entire length of -the wall and settled for a moment upon the floor. I was not enjoying -that stretching, smiling, lazy luxuriance which I sometimes indulge in -after a too brief sleep. That is a pleasant sort of lingering upon the -threshold of the day, but this other feeling of mine was the -deadening reaction which comes after a period of over-tension. - -"You are a nervous freak," I said disgustedly as I finally jumped out -of bed after a soft suggestion from Dilsey that I should find my bath -prepared if I could only be induced to get up and go seek it. I -crossed the convent-like little apartment which it has pleased my -fancy to fix up as a sleeping-chamber and made for a mirror in the -adjoining room, for there is "some little luxury there"--flowered -curtains and Battenburg table-covers and punched score-cards. I wished -to see if there were outward and visible signs of the change which was -causing such inward tumult. - -"You are a freak," I repeated as I looked in the mirror and noticed that -my eyes appeared heavy and tired; and my tongue felt as thick as a -Sunday morning newspaper. "It's a pity you can't keep your emotions -stopped up in a vial and portion them out with a medicine-dropper--instead -of _soaking_ yourself in them!" - -Dilsey had left the water running, as she has learned to do on -mornings when I am unusually lazy, for no woman who has a domestic -heart in her bosom can lie abed and run the risk of the tub -overflowing and making a mess of the bath-room floor. I slipped my -feet into some flip-flop Turkish slippers--if Turkish women have to -wear such footgear as this I don't blame them for sitting still most -of the time; but then they have the comfort of trousers, poor -dears!--and went to turn off the water. - -"Of course he thinks you are an absurd young person who openly tried -to make eyes at him," I mused, as I gave a savage twist that stopped -that provoking sound of water wasting. - -When I had imagined, upon first seeing him, that Richard Chalmers had -warring elements in his character I was only saying about him the -things I knew to be true of myself. "He does bad things sometimes, but -he never enjoys doing them, because he has a conscience that will not -let him." This is my own disposition, and I fancied that it might be -his, because his eyes bear a dissatisfied look, as if he did not come -up to his own ideal of himself. - -Alfred Morgan is entirely different. I do not believe that he ever had -a morbid regret in his life. In his work he is fanatically -conscientious, doing the best he can and knowing that his best is as -good as any other man's, for he does not attempt anything unless he is -sure of his qualifications. This does not imply any lack of grief and -worry when a patient "goes to the bad." He _does_ grieve, sitting with -his head between his hands, while his black hair is ruffled up like a -shoe-brush straight across his forehead. Sometimes he softly repeats, -"Well, I'll swear! Well, I'll _swear_!"--in a baffled, helpless sort -of way, but you know that he has not been helpless where any other man -would have been potent. And he never has the soul-eating remorse which -follows the knowledge that one might have done better. - -As to Alfred's _life_, I imagine that it is kept in the same condition -of fitness that his body is--clean and wholesome, yet full-blooded and -entirely normal. If he should meet red-robed Folly on a pleasant -highway he would undoubtedly linger a while, taking off his hat -politely and addressing her as Human Nature. He would shake hands -good-temperedly as he left her and promise to come again some time -when his business engagements would permit. But he would never give -the matter another thought probably. - -Richard Chalmers' cold face proclaims an asceticism that would call -the prettily dressed little Folly "Sin," yet I fancy that he would -linger--much longer than Alfred, no doubt--and leave the gay fairy -with a frown on his face, which would remain until the next morning, -when he would throw his bootjack at his valet. - -Where was I? Oh, yes, I had just turned the water off! It's a good -thing I did, too, before this digression, or the house would have been -flooded. - -Again, what I have said of Richard Chalmers is also true of myself. I -had lingered on the pleasant highways with a delightful Folly all day -yesterday, which seemed to me in the cold light of day this morning a -sort of Sin. A sin against good sense, I concluded, or against good -taste, _especially_ if he noticed. - -"A horrid _young_ idiot! Of course that's what he considered you -were." I kept torturing myself with these thoughts until others more -agonizing still came to torment me. Suppose he had not thought of me -at all! - -The dash of the cold water restored me to something much more nearly -like my normal self, and by the time I had combed the tangles out of -my hair and spoken to a pair of redbirds which live in a tree right by -my window I was feeling poetry again. A shower of scattered cigar -ashes, which Dilsey had not yet swept off the front porch, with two or -three red-and-gold bands which I had noticed on his cigars, set me -singing. - -"You're not an idiot at all, Ann," I commented, as I looked about to -make sure that no one was near, then grabbed up one of these -red-and-gold bands. "No _wonder_ you have lost your head over him, for -he is perfectly beautiful, and you always did get intoxicated on -beautiful things.--And if _he_ wasn't impressed too, his eyes were -lying! No, they could not lie, because they are too lovely!" - -I knew that the family would all be talking about him at the -breakfast-table, which I found to be true, and they were so absorbed -in their talk that they all, except mother, gave me a perfunctory -greeting as I came in. Strange to say, they were not talking about his -good looks. - -"Well, he's had occasion to study the question in all its phases," -Rufe kept on with the subject at hand as I slid into my chair and gave -myself up to the charms of a breakfast food. "He's studied it in -nearly every land. He spent a part of last year in--" - -"I think one of the delights of wide travel is to be able to pronounce -names of obscure places in such a way that stay-at-homes won't know -what you're talking about," Cousin Eunice said, looking toward mother -and me. She had not intended interrupting the masculine conversation, -but Rufe stopped and listened to what she had to say, which proves -that he is a model husband, I think--"Did you notice how he called -Peru 'Payrhu' last night? Of course he's been there." - -"I noticed the new-fangled way he had with several of his words," -father said, a bit drily. "He differentiated between 'egoist' and -'egotist.' He seems to have been _there_, too." - -"Surely," Rufe coincided so willingly that I was amazed. "But the -quality of egotism possessed by this fellow is not the cheap, -objectionable kind. He simply has unlimited faith in himself, and an -unlimited ability of making other people do what he wants them to do." - -"A tyrant, then?" father inquired with a half-smile at Rufe's -enthusiasm. - -"Not at all--a governor." - -"Well, who is he and where did he come from?" mother asked, coming -into the discussion in an abstracted sort of fashion. "I never heard -of him until the last few months." - -Then followed a long discourse concerning Richard Chalmers' past -life, and his qualifications for the office which he might be called -upon to fill--all of which fell like diamonds and rubies from their -lips, for it was all creditable to him. - -The look of strength, which had told its own story the first time I -had ever seen him, and which had since then held me in the spell of a -fascinated memory--it was all true, then! As I listened to the story -of how the man had, by sheer strength and personality, raised himself -from being simply a well-thought-of young lawyer, with a good deal of -inherited wealth, to his present position in the minds of the state's -best politicians, I felt that he must possess that steel-clad, -relentless, yet necessary attribute--power. - -Now, I revere power, whether in man, or beast, or automobile. - -"Next to marrying it, the worst way on earth for a man to get money is -to inherit it," father said, apropos of the story we had just heard. -"It's bad for the man, and it's bad for the money." - -We all laughed a little and agreed with father, then Rufe became aware -of my presence for the first time. - -"And Mistress Ann has not had a word to say upon this interesting -subject," he said chaffingly, looking around as if he had not seen me -before, which in truth he had not, for he had been so absorbed when I -came in that he merely nodded a "good morning" without detaching his -mind from his discussion. "He was so visibly impressed, too." - -"Shut up, Rufe--teasing her," Cousin Eunice commanded after she had -looked at my face. - -"I swear I wasn't teasing," he insisted more soberly. "I don't believe -Chalmers looks at a woman once a year--he hasn't time for them, and -besides, he's a cold-blooded devil--but he looked at Ann many times -throughout the course of the day, to say naught of 'toting' home a -mud-turtle for her dear sake. Then when he was leaving last night he -asked me again whether the Fieldings were related to me or to my -wife." - -"Did you tell him the truth or did you take the credit to yourself?" I -inquired sarcastically. - -"No, I confessed that the beauteous blossom springs from the same tree -that produced that perfect flower, Mrs. Clayborne. But I told him that -the fact of my having 'raised' you invested you with a 'dearness not -your due'--from blood ties alone." - -"Well, she will have the honor of being looked at by him a great many -times this fall, when she goes home with us," Cousin Eunice said, then -turning to mother she added: "And she will need a _bushel_ of pretty -clothes, Aunt Mary." - -"I want one black dress, with a spangled yoke," I hastily put in, but -was interrupted by little shrieks of disapproval from the two. -"I--thought I'd have to look kind of _old_," I wound up, as they -regarded me with amused surprise. - -After breakfast was over Cousin Eunice gathered up her tablet and -pencil and nodded for me to come with her. - -"I want to look at your face as I write," she explained with a -sympathetic smile, "for I am hopelessly stupid and commonplace. I -can't even think of a surname for my hero that isn't already the name -of an automobile." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -ALFRED - - -Cousin Eunice's new house in the city, which is really a very old -house with the addition of all the wires and pipes and hardwood -trimmings which we think we can't live without these days, is a love -of a place. They bought it for the height of the ceilings and the size -of the rooms, where every member of the family can spread out like a -fried egg. But its especial glory is the drawing-room, a long, stately -apartment all tricked out in the deepest, wild-woodiest green. - -The walls and hangings are of the hue that our Mother Nature loves -best, while the antique furniture is the color of chestnuts at -Hallowe'en. There are dark-toned pedestals at intervals, holding jars -of ferns, and the entire room presents such a perfect reproduction of -a shady nook in the woods that Rufe declared at first he dared not -venture into it, for fear of being snake-bitten. - -There is a big leather chair over in one secluded corner, a chair -which will easily hold the entire Clayborne family, and, on nights -when there is no company and they are in a sentimental mood, the -married lovers pretend that the room is the ravine in which they did -their courting, and that the big chair is the old gray rock they were -sitting on when he proposed to her. - -This is a delightful make-believe--for them. Usually Waterloo and I -are thrown upon each other for companionship, if it is late in the -evening and Grapefruit has gone home. - -He often begs for music, which I am always glad to furnish, or would -be if his taste were not so very pronounced and so limited, and does -not by any means include my favorite classics. - -"You play 'Ditsie,' and I'll play 'Little Ditsie,'" his baby voice -suggests, as he finds his French harp and blows a violent -accompaniment. But if I tire of this and my fingers wander off into -the mournful notes of the _Miserere_ from _Il Trovatore_ (another -love of my youth) his harp and the corners of his mouth drop -simultaneously, and he implores me not to play that "poor song." - -This has not happened very many times, however, for there is nearly -always somebody here. The Gordons frequently, and sometimes Alfred. -They never come together, for whenever Doctor Gordon goes out anywhere -at night Alfred has to stay at home and attend to the calls that come -in. This is what a "cub" is for; then, too, it gives the Gordons a -better chance to talk about him, which they take as much pleasure in -doing as if he were their own dear son. - -It is amazing how much they all think of Alfred. Not amazing, -certainly, in any sense that he is not worthy of all the affection -they bestow upon him, but I believe that it is seldom a girl has a -young man thrown at her head so _unanimously_ as I have Alfred thrown -at me by our loving friends. - -If he threw himself I should die, but he never does. - -He is frank, and loyal, and sober-sided; just a little merry with me -now and then, but for the most part going his even-tenored way and -doing his work without any more fuss and splutter than--a fireless -cooker. He never talks about what he is going to do, although his eyes -are so deep and brown that I feel sure he is a dreamer. - -He is the kind of man who seems to walk, with deliberate yet sure -step, into the things he wants. This denotes, of course, that he has -sat up late many nights, smoothing out rough places in the road, so -that his course might be dignified and steady when he gets ready to -run it. - -And, if Solomon--or whoever it was--told the truth about silence being -golden, then Alfred Morgan is sinfully rich. He is timid, too, around -women--_well_ women, I mean; and I don't believe he would ever have -grown so fond of me if he had not first known me at an age when I wore -such plain linen blouses and soft silk ties you couldn't tell whether -I was a boy or girl. - -Even after my dresses began to sweep the ground I think he still -thought of me as a boy. "You're a good little chap," he would say to -me occasionally when I had done something for his comfort or pleasure; -and I so entirely considered _him_ a boy in spite of those six years -between us that I seldom felt to see how my hair was arranged when I -would hear his footsteps approaching. - -Then, one day I had a rude shock about Alfred's degree of manhood. - -Ann Lisbeth and I were in his private office waiting for Doctor Gordon -to get through with a string of patients which was overflowing the -reception-room, and write out a check for her to take on a shopping -excursion. (Things have changed with them since the days of their -early married life, when Ann Lisbeth got a new dress only once a year; -and then had to have it made by somebody who was owing her husband for -a baby or a spell of measles.) - -There was plenty of space in Alfred's room, poor boy, and I was -sitting in front of his desk, idly fingering some papers and journals -lying around in scattered confusion. - -My attention was arrested presently by a small, oblong blotting-pad, -with his name, Doctor Alfred Morgan, printed on the celluloid cover. -The drug firms of the city sent such things out to all the doctors -occasionally, but this was a particularly pretty one, with a little -raised medallion on it--a picture of a stately stork approaching a -cheery little cottage, with the fat, rosy, inevitable burden in his -bill. The moon and stars were shining as they never shone on sea nor -land, and there was a comfortable glow coming from the cottage -windows, a glow of welcome, it seemed. - -It was a happy-looking little picture, but it brought a curious -feeling of uneasiness to my mind. - -"Ann Lisbeth," I called, loud enough to cause her to look up from the -magazine she was reading, yet not so loud as to be heard by Alfred, -who was in the next room making a blood count. "Do you suppose they -let anybody as young as Alfred do _this_?" I held up the picture. - -"Oh, my goodness," she laughed, looking not so much at the picture as -at my horrified face. "_Young!_ Why, he has two pairs of twins _named_ -for him, besides a little girl whose happy parents are so fond of him -that they made him name her. Her name is Ann Morgan." - -"The Ann is for _you_," I cried, my face flushing. - -"Nay, for you," she insisted, still laughing so that Alfred heard her -and came in to see what it was that was so funny. - -"Some of Ann's nonsense," she explained, and I slapped the blotter -into my purse before he turned and looked at me. - -After that I naturally began to treat Alfred with a good deal more -respect, which he never seemed to notice. - -It was about this time that he began finding a "good class" of -patients who were trusting enough or reckless enough to let him -operate on them; patients who remembered his work at the hospital, or -who were willing to take Doctor Gordon's word for it when he assured -them that Morgan could do the job as well as he himself. Of course -this last happened only when there was an emergency case that Doctor -Gordon could not attend to, or an out-of-town call that promised to -have so little compensation that the elder doctor felt that he would -not be justified in leaving the city for it. - -And then it was that perhaps some old six-cylinder surgeon who -happened to see the operation would go away and remark that he always -knew Morgan was going to make good, for, by George! the fellow handled -the knife like a veteran! - -These stories never failed to bring a thrill of satisfaction to my -breast, for Alfred is my old chum, and I have already mentioned in -here my reverence for power. - -Jean Everett likes Alfred almost as much as I do, and reads me long -lectures upon the idiocy of my course. She religiously invites him out -to her house when I am spending the week-end there and makes me dress -up in absurdly coquettish things, in view of the fact that he has -possibly seen me for the past seven days in the plainest of tailored -clothes. - -Jean has not grown up to be a beauty, that is, not a beauty that could -be marked off by rule, but she has that indefinable something about -her exquisite get-up which makes you suspect that all her lingerie is -stitched with thread number 120. So dainty is she in her pretty blue -frocks that a poetic he-cozen of hers calls her a Wedgwood girl, but -Guilford calls her his twenty-two carat girl, because her heart is as -golden as her hair. - -I have been in the city only a little while--if I take the calendar's -word for it; but it has seemed long to me, for the season of the year -is that when everything is very dull. All the people who have country -homes are reluctantly bidding them good-by and the signs of fall -cleaning are disfiguring all the city homes. The theaters are -publishing long lists of attractions which are coming later on, but -now there is nothing. - -The only politicians I have seen I have met accidentally up at the -_Times_ office--and they are all old, and wear long frock coats,--and -look as if they chewed tobacco. - -So, as I promised in the first chapter that I was not going to bother -you with daily details and venison pasties, I suppose I shall have to -close this chapter without recording _one_ thing of interest. I can -assure you, however, that you do not regret the dullness of it _half_ -so much as I do. - -But hold! Shall I forget Neva? Self-centered thing that I am! Because -the last three weeks have been dreary and barren to me shall I not -rejoice in the happiness of some one else? - -Among the other unimportant things which I have done since coming up -to the city I have helped Neva get installed in a boarding-school for -young ladies. An expensive place, it is, where for a certain -unnaturally large sum each year they teach you to broaden your a's, -sharpen your eyes, and loath your home surroundings for ever -afterward. - -The matter had been under discussion for some days before I left home, -and I set forth the pros and especially the _cons_ to Mrs. Sullivan. -But the humiliation of the fit doctor's visit was fresh and galling; -and Neva's boarding-school experience would more than turn her rival's -triumph into Dead Sea fruit. She must be entered as a student at the -beautifully named college. - -They came up together a week before time for the school to open, Neva -and her mother, so that they could learn their way about the city a -little and also buy Neva some new music and a supply of winter -clothes. - -Now, Neva's songs, while new and silly, are sung in her buoyant young -voice with so much gusto on the caressing words that they are a kind -of actual music; a joyous sort of wholesome music, like the sound of -the postman's whistle on a sunshiny morning, when you know that he is -bringing you a love-letter! There goes my imagination again, for I -never had a love-letter in my life! Not even a post-card, and it's -been _three weeks_. Possibly dignified people do not write post-cards! -Especially gubernatorial timber! - -Now, what started this digression? Oh, yes, Neva's silly songs which -she bought while she was up here those few days before school -commenced. I started out to say that they did not seem at all silly to -me this time. I actually caught myself singing them over and over -again and found considerable beauty in one that was a plea to some -hardhearted beloved to make "ev'ry dream come true." - -Yes, I was delighted with Neva's new songs, and Neva was delighted -with everything she saw in the city: with the pure linen shirt-waists -marked down to one dollar; with the vast, dim cathedral which we -would drop into to enjoy its solemn beauty nearly every time we were -near it, after I found that Neva responded to its appeal; she admired -the Egyptian mummies in the museum--the terrified delight of my early -years; but she found the greatest joy in watching the fire-engines at -work. - -Mrs. Sullivan remained strictly at home after her first day of -tramping the city streets, which she declared "was the death o' her -feet," so that Neva's bubbling accounts of the sights seen, when she -would return to their hotel at night and try to cheer her mother up -with her lively recitals, were by no means the least enjoyable part of -the day's program. - -"Oh, mamma, the cathedral's just _grand_," she declared with -enthusiasm, after her first visit. "I told Miss Ann that I _wished_ -papa had stayed a Catholic and had raised me that way." - -Mrs. Sullivan's Baptist eyebrows flew up in horror, then her entire -face settled into its normal look of hopelessness. - -"Maybe you won't be so glib to wish it at the Great Day of Judgment," -she said warningly, and the capital letters I have used were all in -her voice. - -"--And the mummies!" Neva hastened on, seeing that she had struck the -wrong key, and her tones were as light and frolicksome as her -mother's were lugubrious. "I just love mummies!" - -Mrs. Sullivan still refused to show a smiling interest. - -"Well, I reckon they're all right, if Miss Ann recommends 'em," she -said grudgingly, but with a little wonder depicted on her face; -"still, I make it a rule not to fill _my_ stomach too full of strange -vittles!" - -"Oh, mamma! They ain't things to eat," Neva corrected, struggling -between her shame and amusement, then she launched forth into a brief -explanation of embalming "after the manner of the Egyptians." - -At the word "Egyptians" quick comprehension dawned in Mrs. Sullivan's -disapproving eyes. Certainly she had read her Bible. - -"Shucks! Is _them_ what you're talking about? Well, I can tell you, -miss, I knew all about mummies before _you_ was ever borned! But you -talked about 'em so gushing that I thought of course they was some -kind o' new-fangled ice-cream." - -"When I said that I _loved_ them I meant that they are _so_ -interesting, you know," Neva said, hoping to mollify her, but her -explanation proved a poor quality of oil poured upon the troubled -waters of maternal understanding. - -"Them's strange things for a girl to be going to see," she commented -with pointed brevity. "--Men, women and children layin' there without -_no_ clo'es on--and nobody not knowing what they died with!" - -But the fires! I don't know whether there was an unusually large -number of such calamities during this period or not, but I had never -had my attention so attracted to them before. - -We happened to find ourselves almost in the thick of one the very -first day we were up in the shopping district, and the excitement so -appealed to Neva that after that no member of the fire department -could have taken a more lively interest in the clang of the bell than -she did. - -On the last night of Mrs. Sullivan's stay, when she was already -weeping over having to leave her only born, there was such a sudden -and close clang of the alarm as would furnish Edgar Allan Poe with -inspiration enough for four more stanzas of "bells, bells, bells." - -Neva listened, counted the strokes, then scrambled around distractedly -for the alarm card. The fire might be near enough for her to see! - -"Well, Nevar," her mother said, wiping her eyes and looking at her -motions with reproach, "it is poorly worth while trying to educate -_you_! You've been here a whole week and _ain't learned the fire-alarm -card yet_!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -ALFRED COLLECTS A DEBT - - -Alfred Morgan is one of those men whose backbone is built out of -seasoned hickory. - -I wish some of the poets would start the fashion of writing epics -about the hero who goes through college without getting any money from -home. To me he seems vastly greater than he who taketh a city. - -Alfred did this, selling his pretty saddle mare for money enough to -start in on, then borrowing some from the banks and winning -scholarships the rest of the way. Incidentally, he has a very handsome -chin. - -Now there are two things that are an abomination to me, yea -three--white eyelashes, a receding chin, and negro dialect written by -a northern writer. The white eyelashes I admit are a misfortune, not a -fault; the receding chin--well, I have wondered if that defect might -be remedied by a little crinoline infused into the character, for -without a doubt it is a visible sign of a weakness that will sooner -or later become visible. The negro dialect allusion has no business -here, but I had written it down once in a note-book in a list of my -pet abominations, and I wanted to work it in somewhere, so this seemed -as good a place as any. However, the question of chin is the only one -with which we have to deal to-night. - -As I have above intimated, Alfred is dark-lashed and well-chinned, -else we could never have been the friends that we are. That we are -good friends is proved by the fact that whenever I want to go anywhere -with him I ask him to take me along, and if there is any reason why I -should not go, all he ever says by way of explanation is a brief, "No, -I can't be bothered with you to-day, my dear." - -It happened pretty much after that fashion yesterday afternoon, when I -had lunched with Ann Lisbeth and he had mentioned that he had a long -country drive to take. The sun was shining alluringly, and I had been -feeling very dull. - -"I believe I'll go with you," I volunteered, as we congregated around -him at the front door and he began looking about for his black leather -bag. - -"I wish I could take you, for it's a beautiful drive," he responded, -looking down at me with a smile in his brown eyes, "but I couldn't be -sure of getting you home before very late." - -"Is the trip such a long one?" - -"No; but I have some urgent business in the city afterward. I've -brought suit for a medical bill, and am expecting at any moment to be -summoned to the magistrate's court." - -"How exciting! But I could come home on the car if you are detained -very late." - -"How disgusting rather!" he answered, ignoring the suggestion of mine -about the street-car, but I saw him pick up a lap-robe lying near and -brush a little dust from it. This was a sign that he expected me to -go, for he scorns the comforts of a lap-robe for himself, even on the -coldest days. - -"It's hateful business," he continued, dropping the robe and searching -around for the little broom which Ann Lisbeth keeps tied to the -hat-rack, for both her doctors consider that cleanliness is godliness. -"There will be a pack of lies sworn to in heathen jargon and hours -wasted trying to make the scoundrels come to terms." - -"Heathen? Literally or figuratively?" - -"Both. The man who owes the money is that Hindoo I operated on last -year for appendicitis, but the circus he travels with is really -responsible for the debt; so I'm going to attach a few of their lions -and tigers and snake-charmers to make them settle up while they're in -town this time." - -"Why, Alfred! I don't know of anything this side of African jungles so -thrilling. I believe I'll go with you anyway, even if I have to walk -back. If the circus men should decide to pay you in lions instead of -money you might need me to help herd them home." - -He smiled as I reached for my hat. - -"There's something in that," he said, "for they would willingly follow -_you_." Then, coming a step nearer so that he could not be heard by -Ann Lisbeth, who stood near by, he kept on, "I would trust you to -charm anything that has eyes." - -The telephone rang just as he spoke, and Ann Lisbeth went to answer -it. I was surprised at the tone of his voice, for Alfred very rarely -pays me compliments, and never one anything like this before. I was -surprised still more at myself as I caught at this opportunity for a -sincere, _masculine_ compliment. - -"Alfred," I said quickly, half afraid that Ann Lisbeth would come back -before I could make him say what I longed to hear, "Alfred, do you -think I'm good-looking?" - -I had the grace to blush as I said it, but the blush was not for -Alfred. I felt that he knew the real question in my mind was, "Do you -suppose Richard Chalmers thought I was good-looking that day we sat on -the old stone wall by the orchard gate?" - -But Alfred was simple and sincere always, and he saw in my question -only the query any vain girl might put to a close friend. And into his -eyes darted a quick look of pain and confusion. I wondered if my -vanity lowered his ideal of me. - -"You evidently have no knowledge of what I _do_ think of you--else you -wouldn't ask such a silly question," he answered gravely. - -"I beg your pardon if--if I have offended you by my foolish talk, but -I was only trying to make you say something pretty to me--you never -do, you know." I was genuinely confused, myself, now. - -"I thought 'pretty things' were unnecessary between you and me, Ann," -he answered again, more gravely still. - -"Every woman likes them," I said, trying to relieve the tension by my -tone of lightness. - -"Then I can gratify you--if that's what you want. I think--that is, -to me you are the most beautiful woman in the world!" - -I was so stunned at his unexpected reply and the entirely _new_ look -on his face as he made it that I should have betrayed the thoughts -which came surging to my mind if Ann Lisbeth had not rejoined us then -with a commonplace remark about my taking a heavy coat along with me -if I decided to go with Alfred. - -"You're going, aren't you?" he asked casually, as if the matter were -of no moment with him, but I saw how he reached for my coat as I -nodded my head, and he bade Ann Lisbeth not to take up so much of his -valuable time as she fussed a little over the careless way I fixed my -veil, and insisted on my letting her pin it on properly. - -The woods were beautiful, but I saw their beauty only in a vague, -fantastic way. My thoughts were in a sad tumult, partly on my own -account, partly on Alfred's, for I felt that his strange words spoken -at the hall door would be followed up by something far more manifest. - -I knew him so well that there was no need for me to agitate my mind -over whether his words and looks meant anything, as I had done in the -case of Richard Chalmers that day in the orchard when he had said -"pretty things." Ah, he had said them so prettily! - -How could I let Alfred know, without wounding him and spoiling our -comradeship? Or would it be better _not_ to let him know? To ignore -his words and avoid such dangerous ground in the future--until he had -forgotten them himself. Even the strongest, staunchest lovers cease to -love after a while, when there is nothing for the flame to feed upon, -I argued, and I set about steering away from any reference that might -lead back to the perilous line of talk which had been so mercifully -interrupted. - -I espied a redbird--belated little wanderer--sitting on the fence by -the side of the road, and I began telling Alfred of Mammy Lou's -superstitions concerning redbirds and other little creatures too happy -and bright to have even a tinge of superstition attached to them. But -as I laughed at the notion I made a wish, and saw with joy that the -bird flew away out of view. - -There is a queer admixture of the fatalist in my make-up and, as the -redbird flew away, carrying my wish with him, I had a feeling that -that wish would come to pass. It was a very simple, fervid, -all-embracing affair--that I should see Richard Chalmers again very -soon--and that he should _love_ me. - -The first time I had looked at that man's face I felt as if I had -turned a leaf in the book of my destiny. When Rufe mentioned his name -to me and I later learned that he was the same man whose face had -formed the centerpiece of all my mental pictures, I fancied that Fate -was about to keep her promise; and when he had lingered over saying -good-by that night at home I felt as if my fancies might have a chance -of coming true. - -Then I had come up to the city and stayed for days and days, without -hearing one word from him. This humiliated me until I was angry with -myself for having ever given him a thought. I am of a proud nature -which would demand far more of a man than he should ever _see_ that I -gave. - -I was certainly not in love with Richard Chalmers as I drove with -Alfred out that country road, but I was intensely fascinated, so much -so that my thoughts flew to him with the flight of the redbird, and -for a while I forgot that I was neglecting my task of keeping Alfred's -mind diverted. - -From the country we drove back to Alfred's office and I stayed in the -reception-room and looked at magazines while he was busy with some -patients in his private office. It was getting well toward evening and -the stenographer was beginning to arrange her desk in readiness to -leave when Alfred came into the room and began to fume about the delay -in being summoned to court. He suggested that I telephone Cousin -Eunice that I would be late, which I did, but I found that my absence -was going to make small difference to them, as she and Rufe were going -out to a lecture, and I should be thrown on the society of Waterloo -for the evening. - -"Make Alfred take you on to Ann Lisbeth's, and Rufe and I will come by -for you after the lecture," she suggested, which was an easy solution -and would not cause Alfred to feel that he must hurry on my account. - -He smiled when I told him of this arrangement. - -"So you are going to be left entirely to me this one evening, it -seems," he said. "The Gordons are dining out and bade me satisfy my -hunger before I came home. I propose that we go on up to Beauregard's -now and have dinner, then I'll take you home and let you tell tales to -Waterloo until he goes to sleep." - -"I'm not dressed to go to Beauregard's," I began, looking down sadly -at my tailored clothes and linen blouse. I was very hungry, and -Beauregard's is a delicious place. But my longings were cut short by a -ring at the telephone, and I knew from the answers he made that Alfred -was at last summoned to the magistrate's court. - -"Jump in and go with me," he directed, as he began giving the colored -boy and stenographer directions for closing up the office. "Likely I -sha'n't be long; and we'll go to dinner as soon as they get through -with me." - -We drove to the magistrate's court and I sat in the car and waited for -him. I waited while the darkness came on and the street lights flared -up; I waited while everybody else was crowding into the homeward-bound -electric cars--and I was still waiting long after the throngs had -thinned out and the cars were carrying their scant loads, which means -that all the world is at its evening meal. - -Finally he came out, looking tired and disgusted, but he told me that -the case had been adjusted satisfactorily to him, although the final -settlement was not to be made until after the circus performance that -night, when the business manager of the mighty show could be freed -from his duties and so present himself at the pleasant little affair. - -"The mischief of it is that my lawyer and I have to go out to the show -grounds and keep an eye on the manager," he explained, with a slightly -worried look. - -"And don't you know what to do with me?" - -"Exactly! It's too late to send you home in a cab by yourself, and I -can't go and take you now. What shall I do with you?" - -"Why, take me to the circus." - -He looked at me a moment, then looked at his watch and hesitated. "I -hate to," he said, "but I don't see anything else to be done." So we -started off again. - -Fortunately the performance was nearly over when we got there, for it -was the last night and everything was cut delightfully short, so I -decided that I would rather stay out in the machine for that length of -time, and watch the crowds swarm out to the street-cars than to be -mixed up more closely with them. - -Alfred drove up under a big arc-light and halted at the end of a long -string of automobiles and carriages. - -"You'll not be afraid here--and I'll be back as soon as I can," he -said as he left me. - -I pulled the rug up over me and reached back for a magazine I had -brought, but the unsteady light on the printed pages soon caused my -eyes to hurt, so I laid the book down again and gave myself up to the -misery of just plain waiting. - -After what seemed hours to me Alfred sent a little negro boy to the -car with the message that I was to empty out his largest instrument -case and send it to him. - -"Maybe they have compromised on part money and a few baby lions," I -mused, as I leaned back and gave myself up to another period of -waiting. - -I once heard Ann Lisbeth say that the only medical attention a -doctor's wife ever gets is a sample bottle of iron tonic hastily -handed her from a desk drawer once in a while, if she happens to be -sitting near by and looking pale. I should not object to this, being -healthy and seldom needing an iron tonic, but I do think the long -waiting spells which any one who goes out with a doctor has to be -subjected to would eventually make a woman so nervous that she would -have to have some kind of tonic. I have registered a vow that -hereafter, even if I start out somewhere with Alfred in August, I -shall take my furs along, not knowing but that it will be winter when -I get back. - -He finally came, however, and in looking at him I forgot the -tediousness of my long wait. His eyes were flashing and his face was -flushed. He looked very angry--and very handsome. Evidently he had not -been suffering from cold as I had. - -He had on his long overcoat, which seemed almost to drag him down, big -as he is, with its weight; and the pockets were bulging -dropsically--if there is such a word. His instrument case he deposited -in the car, right in the way of my feet, but when I tried to move it I -found that it would not budge. - -"Are you tired?" he asked, as he began to crank the car. - -"I'm tired and cold--and _hungry_." - -"All of which will soon be remedied," and he smiled as he looked at -me. "Ann, you never saw a man in my condition before in your life." - -"What?" - -He had a hard time working his way into the car with those bulging -pockets, but he finally got fixed satisfactorily, then he moved the -heavy instrument case; and I gave my feet several relieved shakes. - -"Very likely for the first time in your young life you behold a man -who has more money than he knows what to do with!" - -"_Money!_" I edged away respectfully to give the pockets more room. -"Is it money?" - -"Every pound of it is coin of the realm," he answered. "It is -_nickels_." - -"Alfred!" - -"Those low-down scoundrels paid me in nickels." And his eyes began to -flash again. - -"What on earth for?" - -"For pure cussedness!" - -"And you had to count them all!" No wonder he had been gone a long -time. - -"I sat there like a fool and counted the instrument case full; then I -dumped the rest into my pockets. The lawyer is sitting in front of his -little pile now, counting it; and there is a small bag full to be sent -to the magistrate to-morrow." - -"Why, it's like a dream, isn't it? I never heard of so much money." - -"And I never believed before that surgeons charge too much for their -services--but now--" - -We laughed all the way back to town; we drove up to Beauregard's -laughing; we laughed as Alfred slipped off his coat and the solemn -waiter looked startled at the heaviness of the garment. Then we looked -around leisurely to select a table, for it was late and the diners -were few. - -"Let's go into the booth," I suggested, nodding toward a small -mahogany partition at one side and near the front of the restaurant. -This compartment was built with some other purpose in view than acting -as a private dining-room, for the open doorway is unscreened in any -way, and the partition itself is only about seven feet high. I set -down these uninteresting figures to let you know that I am a -well-brought-up young person and don't go into private dining-rooms -unchaperoned--nor should I have been here at all with any one but -Alfred. - -I had learned the comforts of this mahogany screen from having come -here often with Cousin Eunice and Waterloo. We always make a bee-line -for its shelter when we have him with us, for he fills his mouth so -full that his mother always has to make him stop and unload. This is -less embarrassing when there is a partition between her and the -public. - -The place happened to be unoccupied when we came into the restaurant -that night, and Alfred and I sat down with a sigh of mingled -exhaustion and content. He began a lavish and extensive order which I -curtailed materially on account of the lateness of the hour. - -"We can't spend _all_ our nickels to-night," I said, reprovingly; and -we laughed a little over the nickels, at intervals, all through the -meal. - -Then we talked, or at least, I talked, which is usually the case when -Alfred and I are together. I asked him questions about the circus -people and the curious sights he had seen in the tent which was not -open to the public. And he told me about the hideous Cossacks standing -guard over their high-pommelled saddles, as the hurried process of -packing went on, the long-haired ranchmen, who were tenderly laying -away their guns; and the Hindoo woman who sat and glared at him as he -handled the nickels which would mean months of a lessened salary for -her and her husband. - -"_Think_ of the balloons and pop-corn and red lemonade those nickels -represent," I said, still on the subject of the circus, as we finished -our meal and left the table. - -Under the influence of the good dinner, the soft lights, with their -soothing shades on the table, and the warm air of the comfortable -room after my long wait in the autumn cold, I was beginning to feel -deliciously sleepy, and was thinking with pleasure in how short a time -Alfred could make the distance home, now that the streets were not -crowded--when we left the booth and I looked around at the people -occupying the other tables. I looked at them indifferently, as I -waited for Alfred to put on his overcoat, my eyes traveling slowly -around the room, until they stopped at a table close in front of where -I was standing. - -Just outside the partition and sitting so squarely facing it that I -dropped one of my long gloves in my startled surprise when I saw him, -was Richard Chalmers, smoking a fragrant cigar, from which he had -stripped a dainty red-and-gold band, which was lying upon the -newspaper he had spread out in front of him. - -But he was not reading, and I imagined from his look that he had not -been reading for some time, for he was looking straight at me with the -same half-amused smile he had worn when he had sat on the old stone -wall that day and told me that there was a vast difference in our -ages. It seemed that he was quietly waiting for me to look at him, -and, as our eyes met, he rose at once, and came over and shook hands -with me. - -"I was waiting for you to come out, Miss Fielding," he said, after I -had introduced the two men and they had reached simultaneously for my -glove, which Alfred got to first--then Mr. Chalmers began to fold the -paper he had not been reading, and made preparations to leave the -place as we did. "I happened to drop in here a little while ago, and, -fortunately, chose this table. Then I heard your voice--I felt sure -that it was you--so I waited to see." - -Alfred excused himself a moment and crossed the room to speak to a -white-haired old gentleman at one of the tables. I recognized this old -man as a well-known back number in the medical profession of the city, -and had heard Doctor Gordon say that he was pitiably grateful for any -attention which the younger fellows showed him. Alfred spoke a few -words of congratulation on a recent address the old doctor had made at -a medical meeting, they both laughed over a half-whispered joke, then -Alfred turned to leave. An appealing hand was laid on his coat sleeve, -as he allowed himself to be cornered by the old man, and a harangue -ensued, carried on in a quavering, high-pitched voice, with now and -then a deep-toned word from Alfred. - -I stood and waited for him and Richard Chalmers came closer to me as I -glanced over into one of the mirrors on the wall and began to tie the -big veil around my hat again, and to pull up my coat-collar a bit -closer, preparatory to going out into the chilly air. - -He dropped his voice and began to talk as rapidly as his lazy, -southern drawl would let him. He seemed to have a good deal to say and -he wished to say it all. I was in an agony of fear that the old -doctor's harangue might not last long enough. - -"Yes, the next week after seeing you I went East and returned only -this morning," Richard's voice was saying, and, while the words made -all the difference in the world to me, still I heard them only -indistinctly. All I could take in was the fact that I was hearing his -voice again. - -"I reached the city this morning, and telephoned Clayborne about noon -to ask him where you were. You remember you told me that you were -booked to come home with them? I was very glad indeed when he said -that you were at his house, and I should have gone out to see Mrs. -Clayborne to-night--I wanted to tell her about my mother and sister -coming up to town next week for some shopping. They live in -Charlotteville--eastern end of the state, you know--but Clayborne said -that there was a lecture or something on for to-night. He thought you -would all likely be at home to-morrow evening." - -"Yes--I think so. We shall be very glad to see you." - -"It was the merest chance that I dropped in here and heard you -talking--I understood that something very amusing had happened at a -circus." - -"Yes," I said weakly. - -"So I stayed to listen. You will forgive me--for I knew that it was -your voice, and"--with a _wonderful_ smile--"you see I am very fond of -music." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -A SHOPPING EXPEDITION - - -"_O Richard, O mon roi_," I carolled this morning, but I confess that -I carolled it as much in an undertone as the unfortunate aristocrats -had to employ when they chose to give vent to their feelings by -singing that song during the Reign of Terror. - -I was up-stairs in my own room at Cousin Eunice's, brushing, shaking, -smoothing, folding, and now and then mending a little ripped place in -my clothes, for, during the last four weeks I have done nothing but -wear them. Early in the morning, all through the day, and late at -night, I have lived to maltreat those clothes. And they are showing -signs of being weary and wounded. - -It is a good thing, possibly, that mother and Cousin Eunice would not -let me have the black spangled net that my soul yearned for, else -there would not have been a spangle left to tell the tale by this -time. - -Cousin Eunice was in the next room throughout the time I was thus -employed--that is, she was in and out, hence the undertone in my -singing. - -"Ann," she finally called in a vexed tone, after a period of silence, -"you'll live to learn, after you're married, that a man and his -poll-tax receipt are soon parted." - -"It's a registration certificate," I amended softly. - -"Well, what if it is? It's eternally lost when they want it." - -She had spent the morning emptying bureau drawers, scratching through -piles of old papers, peering under the clock, into a cracked vase, -moving the piano and searching in the dusty lint beneath, and dazzling -her eyesight by a scramble through a five-years' accumulation of pink -electric light bills--but no sign of the registration certificate. -Toward luncheon time Rufe called her up and said he hoped she had not -put herself to any trouble, for he forgot to tell her early this -morning that he had already found the missing paper in his -pocket-book. - -"They have to register before they can vote, don't they?" - -I knew that they did, but I was in a mood to talk politics this -morning. - -"Yes. This is just a measly little municipal election, however." - -"Oh, I know that it is not gubernatorial." - -"I observe that you have improved your store of knowledge -mightily--since that day we sat under the althea hedge." She came into -my room as she spoke, and sat down on the side of the bed. - -"Yes, I feel that I know all about the state of affairs now." - -"Then I wish you would tell me, so I can tell Rufe." She was tired out -from her strenuous morning, and her head fell over among the pillows. -I laid down the skirt I had been brushing and seated myself on the -foot of the bed. - -"What's the trouble?" I asked. "I thought the matter was very simple." - -"You thought the matter was simple, you dear little goose, because our -favorite piece of gubernatorial timber has showered you with devoted -attentions this past month. It seems that he has declared his -intentions toward you--so far as looks and acts go--but he is backward -about his political doings." - -"Then you have just not listened to what he has said," I denied -stoutly, the spirit of the game strong within me, and the spirit of my -admiration for him much stronger. "Nobody could denounce Appleton -more entirely than he does!" - -"Oh, Appleton!" There was infinite scorn in her tone. "What decent -person doesn't denounce him?" - -"Then, what's the trouble?" I asked again. "Appleton stands for -whisky; we stand for water--the affair seems quite clear to me." - -"And Jim Blake stands for whisky _and_ water--with a goodly dash of -sugar. He's a kind of toddy for our split Democracy." - -"But what has _he_ to do with Richard Chalmers?" I asked, an uneasy -fear clutching at my gay spirits. - -"That's just what we want to know--before the _Times_ can rally to the -support of Chalmers." - -"The _Times_!" I was genuinely aroused now. "Why, I thought the -_Times_ had virtually _made_ Richard Chalmers." - -"Well, the paper has boomed him because he has always stood for the -right principles heretofore. But there is a grave complication about -to set in now, it seems. Of course the people of this state are not -going to stand for Appleton again--we are not Hottentots, and either a -strong Democrat must come out, and stand on a strong platform, else we -are going to have a Republican for governor." - -"Well?" - -"Well, the law-abiding faction is ready to support Richard Chalmers, -so long as he does not compromise, but at the first evidence of -weakening on his part--the vote goes to some _clean_ Republican." - -"And you are afraid that he will join Blake--in some way?" - -"In a very clearly defined way. Blake is the most popular man in the -state. He could put up a good fight for anything he wanted here--and -he could throw his influence to Chalmers." - -I traced the pattern of the counterpane with the end of the -clothes-brush which I was still holding in my hand. - -"I don't know a thing about it," I said finally, my tone and feelings -far different from what they were but a few minutes before, when I had -declared confidently that I knew all about it. "He has never once -mentioned politics to me these last few weeks." - -"Well, I dare say not," she said, straightening up and smoothing back -her hair. "Imagine a man talking politics before Mrs. Chalmers and -Evelyn! And they have been with you every minute that you and he have -been together." - -It was true. These last few weeks had brought about a delightful -state of closer personal contact between Richard Chalmers and me, a -condition which he has seemed determined to make stronger and more -pronounced by every means in his power--and he has the most charming -means--but always under the supervision of his mother and sister. - -Supervision? Good heavens, what an absurd word to use in connection -with either one of those women where Richard is concerned, for they -are truly as much slaves to him as if he had chains around their -wrists and ankles. A worshipping slave is his mother, while Evelyn is -so timid and fearful in his presence that she appears to be much -stupider than she really is, which is stupid enough, in all -conscience! - -When I first discovered this mighty reverence in them for the man who -is so kingly to me I felt that they must recognize in him that -wonderful _regal_ attribute, which so irresistibly attracted me. But I -soon learned, for we were together constantly, that Evelyn fears and -dislikes him, and the only time during those weeks of companionship -that she displayed the slightest eagerness over anything was when she -was urging me to accompany them on some pleasure party, where, unless -I should go along with them, they would be left solely to the -companionship of her august brother. - -"He's so much nicer when you're around," she explained to me one time -with a look of pleading candor, when she was insisting that I go to -dinner with them that evening. I had received pressing invitations -from the three members of the family, but was hesitating on account of -Mammy Lou's slogan. - -Evelyn is an intensely inane girl, but not bad at heart, and it had -not occurred to her that she was saying the wrong thing. Her mother, -who is much more acute, came forward with a flurried palliation for -Evelyn's thoughtless words. Richard is so dignified that Evelyn has -never grown to _know_ him, she explained, with what impressed me as -undue haste; he is so much older than she, and has been away from home -so much of recent years. - -"It doesn't make me think any less of him to know that you are both -deadly afraid of him," I smiled to myself as I ran up-stairs to change -my dress. "But I am not in the least afraid of him." - -His women are not at all like Richard, even in so far as length, -breadth and thickness go. The quality in him which results in simply a -splendid physique, in them tends toward heaviness, and I have heard -from his own lips that he "hates dumpy women." Yet he cares extremely -for the handsome appearance which they make in their expensive -clothes, and his cold dignity finds a pleased echo in their studied -correctness. - -Correct they both are, and stylish and _orthodox_, church and clothes -being the alpha and omega of their conversation. - -They are conventionally polite, whereas he is always superbly -courteous; and Mrs. Chalmers can invariably be depended upon to do and -say exactly the right thing. Evelyn passes muster all right, because -she never does or says anything. - -While Richard's mother can describe to the turning of a milliner's -fold the latest foibles of fashion's fancy, she is complacently -old-fashioned in her notions about other things, maintaining the faith -in which she was brought up, namely, that all children should be -whipped and all husbands watched, while women should say their prayers -regularly and see that their corsets suit their figure. She quotes the -Bible unendingly and is so morbidly "proper" and ladylike that I am -sure she thinks, if she ever thought about it at all, that being -burned at the stake was no more than Joan of Arc deserved for being -so immodest as to ride cross-saddle before all those fast and loose -Frenchmen. - -It fell to Cousin Eunice's lot to go shopping with Mrs. Chalmers and -Evelyn; and to the hair-dressers, and to the thousand and one other -places that out-of-town women always feel that they must visit when -they are in a city for a little while. I usually fight shy of this -phase of getting acquainted, not because, as you may think, that -Richard was never along, for he was frequently; but simply because I -_hate_ shopping. - -One morning, only a little while before they were to go back to -Charlotteville, they asked Cousin Eunice to meet them in the city as -they had some rather important purchases to make and desired her -judgment on the matter. Cousin Eunice has known Richard's family ever -since he shot up so suddenly on the political firmament, and she had -shopped with them before, so she fortified herself for this occasion -by putting on her most comfortable shoes and arranging her hair to -stand the strain of a day's long crusade away from a mirror. - -I had been invited to lunch with Ann Lisbeth that day, for there had -been killed a fatted calf to glorify Alfred's birthday, and I pleaded -this engagement when I was politely urged to join, at least for a -while, the shopping expedition. - -"I wish you would come on in and see that coat I'm worried over," -Evelyn rather insisted, as I was about to make my adieus at the -entrance of one of the big shops, without even glancing at the -bewildering array of new fall goods displayed in the windows. - -Clearly Evelyn considered my seeming indifference to fashionable -apparel a pose, for she continued, looking at me slightly aggrieved: -"You evidently must be interested in your own clothes. Richard said -last night that you were a feast for an artist." - -My face turned a little red, but I meekly followed them on into the -place. I might have told her that, while to _her_ clothes were an end, -to me they were a means--and no one is ever deeply interested in a -mere means. Yet when the end is such a speech as _that_ from such a -man as that, it stands one in hand to take a little interest in the -means. This brought about the frenzied overhauling of raiment which I -instituted this morning. - -Although it was still warm weather, the autumn stock of furs was -already on exhibition, and Evelyn's attention had been particularly -attracted by a coat of short, glossy, and very expensive fur. One -more sight of the attractive garment decided her. - -"Well, I'm certainly glad you've made up your mind," Mrs. Chalmers -said, as she opened her shopping-bag and drew out her check-book. She -was busily filling out the blank after "Pay to the order of" when she -suddenly stopped and looked up at Evelyn. - -"I wish I could get this cashed somewhere else," she said in a low -voice, "for Richard will criticize our taste unmercifully when he -learns that this amount of money has been paid for that coat. He -always looks over my returned checks." - -"Oh, we'll just tell him that this was the entire amount of our -shopping bill at this store," Evelyn answered easily, as if such a -deception might be an every-day affair with them. "If he asks me I'll -tell him that the coat cost only half of what it did." - -"That's true, we can do that," Mrs. Chalmers said, looking relieved -and going on with her writing. "But don't you forget to back me up in -whatever I tell him." - -After she had handed the check to the gratified saleswoman and again -given directions about a slight alteration in the set of the collar -she turned to Cousin Eunice and said a word or two in explanation. - -"Richard is such a critic," she stated rather absently, her eyes fixed -on a handsome evening wrap hanging in a case close by; "when he knows -we have paid a good deal for our clothes it seems to give him real -pleasure to criticize them. He says Evelyn and I will buy anything a -shop-girl shows us if she will only flatter us enough. So I am in for -doing anything that will keep the peace. I consider it one of the -first duties of a Christian." - -Her mouth closed primly for a moment after her last sentence, but -opened again almost immediately, for her eyes were still fascinated by -the beauty of the delicate-colored wrap. - -"Mrs. Clayborne, _do_ you think I am too stout for one of those loose -cloaks?" - -I stood for a moment looking at the group and fingering the handle of -my shopping-bag nervously. I was glad that my opinion of the evening -wrap was not asked, for I should have given a random answer. I was -wondering so many things in so short a space of time that my brain -could not find room for words just then. Of all the different kinds of -lies that one meets up with in life it has always seemed to me that -the lies women tell about the cost of clothes are the lowest class. -What a deplorable lack of understanding must exist between members of -a family when such lying is deemed necessary! I imagined mother or me -trying to lie to father--about the cost of clothes! - -The bewitching evening wrap was brought forth from its case and Mrs. -Chalmers and Evelyn trailed away after the shop-woman to the -dressing-room. Cousin Eunice and I sat down to wait for them. She -looked at her watch, stifled a yawn, and then turned to me rather -hesitatingly. - -"I wonder if our friend, Mr. Chalmers, is a domestic tyrant?" she -said. - -I started, for this phase of the matter had not presented itself to my -mind. - -"He doesn't seem to be," I answered, with as much nonchalance as I could -muster. "Of course every one can see that they both stand in awe of him; -but I thought that must be because he is so extraordinarily--clever." - -She laughed, then she looked at me more seriously. - -"If it were only his cleverness they would not be hypocritical with -him. And tyrants _do_ breed hypocrites." - -"Not unless there is hypocritical material--to start out with." - -"I--don't know! If you loved a tyrant, and desired above everything -else to please him, it might mean the ultimate ruin of even _your_ -frank character." - -"I couldn't love a tyrant," I argued. - -"You might not recognize the tyrant in him--until after you had -married him," she said. - -The same uneasy feeling that again came over me when I discussed his -political prospects took possession of me then, and I started to ask -her frankly what she had in mind, when Evelyn came up and said that -her mother wanted Cousin Eunice to come and see her with the wrap on. -So she passed on back to the dressing-room to help decide the -momentous question, while Evelyn and I sat there and discussed the -good points of the coat she had just bought. - - * * * * * - -Ann Lisbeth was sweet and wholesome when I met her an hour or two -later--an admirable antidote to the disagreeable feeling I had brought -away from the shops. - -"Alfred doesn't know you're coming," she said with a bright smile, -"he'll be so pleased!" - -As is usual when the fatted calf is killed for a medicine man he takes -that occasion to be an hour late--an emergency case at the last -minute, or some one at the office that it took an unreasonable time to -get through with. I hardly heard the excuse which Alfred made when he -came in, but I knew it was true, whatever it was, and, as Doctor -Gordon was not going to be able to come at all, we three went in and -gave ourselves up to the joy of the occasion. - -I was absently eating everything that was brought to me, and was -thinking all the while how perfectly preposterous it was that Richard -Chalmers--a man like Richard Chalmers--should have such weak-minded -females attached to him; and I had just reached the conclusion that -there could never, _never_ be anything like friendship between us, no -matter what there might be as an occasion for friendship, when the -dessert was brought in, and with it a great, beautiful cake, iced in -forget-me-nots. - -"Now, don't you think I'm sentimental?" Ann Lisbeth asked with a -smile, after we had used up all the adjectives that we had at our -command. "You see, I thought maybe Alfred's next birthday might be -spent in London, or Vienna, or somewhere far away--and I knew that I -was going to have you here to-day, Ann--so I told the woman who made -the cake to be sure and use forget-me-nots. So when he thinks of us on -his next birthday he will have to remember how much we all love him!" - -All of a sudden I had that uncomfortable feeling that comes in my -throat sometimes when I don't want it to, and I realized that if -something did not happen to divert my mind I should certainly cry. -Ever since his graduation Alfred had been trying to devise means for -this course of study abroad, and I had known how much better his -practice had been lately, but somehow, I had not thought of his going -so far away so _soon_. Suppose Mammy Lou should have gall-stones -again! - -I wrestled for a moment with that awful lump in my throat; then I -spoke, and my voice was natural again. - -"Is this sudden 'wanderlust' the outcome of collecting all those -nickels?" I asked with a laugh. - -After we left the table Alfred and I went into the library for a -while, and Ann Lisbeth stayed in the dining-room to keep her husband -company while he ate, for he had come in just as we were finishing, -and declared that he was starved. - -"Ann, I have a surprise for you," Alfred said, springing up from the -big leather chair into whose depths he had lazily thrown himself a -moment before. He sometimes took a short nap after luncheon, when he -had been out all the night before, and I had picked up a magazine to -amuse myself with in case he deserted me in favor of his siesta. - -"A surprise?" He had given me a surprise the last time I spent the day -at the Gordons'. - -"A bully one. I found it down home the other day--last week when I was -out there--while I was rummaging in a box of ancient books and papers. -Wait, I'll run up-stairs and get it." - -He returned almost immediately with a book in his hand, a ponderous -old tome it was, with yellowed edges and time-stained leather covers, -but I saw a name on the back which sent my pulses throbbing with -pleasure. - -"Moore's _Life of Byron_," I said, reaching out for it eagerly. Alfred -had known that I wanted the book for years, and whenever he had been -in a big city for any length of time he had always searched about for -it, but had never come across a copy. - -"It isn't Moore's _Life_," he said, sitting down beside me on the -couch, "but from what I have been able to gather, by glancing through -it, it seems to be a rather more intimate affair than even that. -Besides the poems, there are a lot of letters and extracts from his -journal; the entire correspondence for several years between him and a -fellow whom he calls his 'dear Murray.' Guess you know who his dear -Murray is--I'm sure I don't. Then there are some letters to the -Countess G-u-i-c--" - -"Oh, Alfred! Guiccioli! I'm so glad to get my hands on this book. You -are a darling to think about bringing it up for me to read!" - -"Oh, I brought it up for you to keep. It belonged to my grandfather, -and I can give it to any one I want to." - -I laughed a little at his simplicity. - -"But surely you would not be such a barbarian as to let a book like -this go to any one outside of your family. Boy, this is an heirloom! I -never heard of just this edition before. The engravings in it are -wonderful. It is a very valuable book. I couldn't think of letting you -give it to me!" - -Ann Lisbeth had come into the room for a moment, but as she saw us -sitting together on the leather couch and absorbed in the book, she -had hastily left the room, closing the door behind her. - -As I finished speaking Alfred glanced at the closed door then -deliberately reached over and caught both my hands as they fluttered -about over the leaves of the book. In my surprise they struggled a -moment, but he held them--he has such big, warm, _capable_ hands; no -wonder people are trusting as to their ability--and thus it was, with -our heads bent close together and our hands pressing down upon the -passionate poems of the greatest passion poet, that I received my -first declaration of love. - -"Don't you know that there is nothing in the world I own or could get -too valuable for me to give to you, Ann?" he said, in low, tense tones -that I had never heard from him before. "Surely you know what you are -to me! The greatest privilege I could ask is to give you everything I -have or shall have--a life of devotion--a heart, darling, that has -always been yours! A world of _love_!--" - -He came closer still, and in another moment he would have had his arms -around me, carried away as he was by the force of his own feelings, -but I drew back and he was arrested by the look on my face. His own -went white with sudden misery. - -"Ann! Surely you don't mean to tell me that I am already too late?" - -"Too late?" - -"That you love some one else!" - -His face, pale and drawn, looked strangely unlike my genial, -even-tempered Alfred. He was capable of great depth of feeling, -then--besides being so strong, so fine! I had always had an infinite -respect for him, and admiration, and affection! I had known that the -strength of his nature had been tested and found _there_; and it was -like the strength of oak, sturdy, deep-rooted, indomitable. - -"I _so nearly_ love _you_, Alfred," I cried, struggling between the -pain I felt at his hurt and the bewilderment of my own confused -feelings. - -For the face of Richard Chalmers was between us, and his face, too, -spoke strength. Strength of steel, cold, inflexible, even cruel, -perhaps--yet holding such a potent attraction. - -"--But you _quite_ love some one else?" His voice was calm, although -his face was even whiter than a moment before. - -"I don't know--I only know that I am oh, so sorry for you--and for -myself, too!" - -He was still holding my hands in his strong clasp, and they felt so -wonderfully at home there that I never thought to move them--if I had -never known that other man I should have loved _him_ so! - -"Ann, is it Chalmers?" - -The question was frankly put, and as frankly answered. - -"Yes.--But there is nothing yet--nothing has been _said_--still, I -know--" - -"Ah, I was afraid of that! That was what overpowered my determination -not to speak of my love until I came back from Europe! I noticed -something that first time I met him--then the Gordons told me of his -attentions to you." - -"Yes," I said. "But he has never told me that he cares." - -"He will. And I congratulate him." - -Alfred arose, as he spoke, and I laid my hand on his arm. - -"This is not going to make any difference between us?" I asked -appealingly. I felt that I could not lose my friend. - -"Not in my feeling for you," he answered, looking down at me with a -look that I hated to see in his brown eyes--they usually met the world -with such a level, untroubled glance. "If you should ever change, or -ever need me--you know that I will be there. But, dear, it will be -painful to go on meeting you. I'm going away in a few weeks, perhaps, -but until then--" - -"I know. I'll stay out of your way," I promised humbly. - -He leaned over suddenly and caught my face between his hands. He -brushed his lips lightly against the coils of my hair. - -"Good-by, _darling_," he said. Then he went out softly and closed the -door. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -ANN RECEIVES A CALLER - - -"Whoopee, what a pretty pitcher!" Waterloo cried admiringly, as he -came down to breakfast this morning with the belt of his rompers still -unfastened and a look of sleepiness in his brown eyes. - -He followed his mother into the kitchen, as did we all, for the cook -was late, and Rufe was anxious to get off early. - -"Let me play with it. I won't hurt it." - -I do not know whether it was the appeal in his voice or the wish to -avoid a conflict, which always made her so nervous that she let the -toast burn, which made Cousin Eunice pick the object under discussion -up in her hand and silently debate a minute. - -"Isn't it a sign of the times when a child of his age doesn't know a -coffee-pot when he sees one?" Rufe asked, as he stood in the doorway -and absorbed lots of space. When Galileo, or whoever it was, made his -famous remark about nobody being able to occupy more than one space at -a time he had never seen a man in the kitchen before breakfast. - -"I think it speaks well for his up-bringing," he continued (Rufe's I -mean, not Galileo). "It shows how entirely we are on the water wagon -here at this house." - -"Lemme play with the coffee-pot," Rufus, junior, was insisting, -dangerous signs appearing around the corner of his mouth. Cousin -Eunice, who is observant, noticed these signs. It always gives her a -spell of indigestion for him to have a crying spell before breakfast. - -"Now listen, son," she said, handing the vessel over to him with a -dubious look, "you must be very careful with the coffee-pot. Father -went up himself yesterday and bought it for mother, because we are -going to have so much company this afternoon that the other pot won't -hold enough. So you just sit down on a pile of sofa pillows to play -with it, then you can't drop it and make ugly dents in the pretty, -shiny thing." - -This arrangement proved so satisfactory that breakfast was finished -and eaten before Waterloo could be prevailed upon to break his fast. A -pocket full of marbles poured headlong into the new-fangled -coffee-pot had added very materially to its success as a plaything, -and the music of this kept him engaged for at least half an hour after -the cook finally showed up and took the reins of the kitchen work out -of our relieved hands. - -Cousin Eunice then went into the dining-room to give another look at -the piles of silver, china and napery that are considered necessary -accompaniments to civilized eating in public. - -"Almonds, olives, mints," she said, touching the glass and silver -dishes which were placed in a row on the sideboard. "Oh, isn't there -always a gala feeling about eating out of wedding presents? And I'm -going to use every pretty dish I have this afternoon." - -"Is Mrs. Barnette such a big personage, then?" I inquired. The -"Scribblers' Club" was going to meet with Mrs. Clayborne, and I had -heard much of the visiting lioness just mentioned. Cousin Eunice is -the kind of woman who takes her parties hard, and before the actual -date of one, everything in the house, from Waterloo's scalp to the -back kitchen shelves, is put in apple-pie order--as if a visit from -the health officer were impending. - -"Big?" Cousin Eunice was going over the row of dishes again, to make -sure that she was going to be able to use them all. "Why, she speaks -seven different languages, and has all her underclothes suspended from -her shoulders." - -"Mercy! Then it will take every piece of silver and fine glass you can -muster to offset that, I'm sure." - -"Naturally I must make an impression some way. If my book had been -published and talked about all I should do would be to offer them a -cup of tea and a wafer--and they would fall all over themselves for -the honor of coming." - -"Meanwhile, being humble and obscure, you have to serve flesh and fowl -and coffee--say, don't you reckon I'd better be scrubbing out the -coffee-pot?" - -"Please do," she nodded, as she went on with her work while I bearded -Waterloo and demanded the glittering object of his admiration. -Manlike, he had already tired of the plaything, and was ready to -scamper away with Grapefruit, for she had found a dead frog out in the -yard, she said, and they would have a grand funeral if he would come -on. - -"Take him for a little walk now and save the funeral ceremonies until -afternoon," I suggested, "so he'll stay out of his mother's way -during the party." - -Then I poured the marbles out of the coffee-pot into his grimy little -hands, the life-lines and head-lines of which constituted little -streaks of whiteness, thereby proving them to be the hands of a -Caucasian. - -"There's one that won't come out," he informed me, as he pocketed the -others and departed with Grapefruit. - -I investigated and found a marble lodged firmly in the neck of the -spout, a most tantalizing position it occupied, resisting coyly my -efforts to remove it, yet protruding almost halfway into the body of -the pot. I stood there fingering it until Cousin Eunice came to see -what was the matter. I explained, and when she insisted upon trying -her own hand at the marble's removal I reluctantly gave it over to -her. - -"Now isn't that _too_ bad?" she finally exclaimed with a nervous -impatience after she saw that it was useless to try any further. "It -serves me right for giving it to him to play with--but I _do_ hate to -get him started before breakfast." - -Each member of the family and the servants took turns at trying to get -the marble out of the fine new coffee-pot, spending, all told, several -hours of the busy morning, and when Rufe came in to luncheon the -story was poured into his somewhat unsympathetic ears. - -"I knew he would do the thing some damage when I saw you hand it over -to him to play with this morning," he said with a fatherly air. -"Doesn't he tear, or break, or _chew_, or sprinkle over with talcum -powder everything he can get his hands on?" - -"Maybe you can get the marble out," I said, bringing the coffee-pot to -Rufe, and he worked over it for a full half-hour. - -"Oh, it's ruined," he said disgustedly, when he saw that it wasn't -coming out. "Of course the coffee won't _pour_! It will just drop, as -reluctantly as tears at a rich uncle's funeral." - -"Why, we hadn't thought to try," Cousin Eunice said, and I took the -thing from Rufe's hand and sped with it to the kitchen sink. - -"It pours," I announced triumphantly. - -"Then your glory as a hostess is saved," Rufe comforted her. - -"But who wants to go through life with a marble up the coffee-pot -spout?" she persisted, with little worried lines between her eyes. - -"Besides it will be sure to taste like marbles," I added. - -The little worried lines between Cousin Eunice's blue eyes grew deeper -in the early afternoon as the ices and cakes were delayed an hour in -coming, and we found that Waterloo had sprinkled frazzled wheat -biscuit all over the chairs and floor of the reception-room, just as -the door-bell was ringing to announce the first Scribbler. Then she -grew cheerful again when some of her best friends among the club -members arrived, and only slightly flurried at the advent of Mrs. -Barnette. - -I stayed in the presence of the learned body long enough to hear with -my own ears that they were not discussing anything too deep for me to -understand, everything being spoken in plain English; but this -happened to be a business meeting as well as an occasion for social -enjoyment, so when the time for election of officers drew near I fled, -fearing at least Esperanto--if not actual blows. - -I was present once at a meeting of mother's missionary society when -this ordeal had to be gone through with, and I shall never forget the -injured expression and cutting accents of the secretary _pro tem._ -when she found that the office was not permanently hers. - -The only untoward event that happened this afternoon (and that wasn't -untoward through any fault of ours) was when Mrs. Howard, an immensely -tall, raw-boned Scribbler, happened to speak in complimentary terms of -dear Mrs. Clayborne's lovely sylvan room. - -"I am _so_ sensitive to rooms," she said, fluttering her rich lace -scarf toward one corner of the apartment which she particularly liked, -"and the least false note gets so on my nerves!" She was sitting alone -upon a small sofa--alone, yet not alone, for Waterloo's little, but -_loud_, mechanical bug was also sitting on the sofa, although his -presence was unsuspected by Mrs. Howard. - -This amazing insect is like love in the springtime, it only takes a -touch to set it a-fluttering, for it seems always to be wound up. The -heavy lace scarf hanging from Mrs. Howard's long arms and creeping -over its back and sprawling legs was quite enough. It caught in the -silken fabric with its sudden zizzing, clicking noise; and it climbed -steadily upward, toward the lady's stalwart, but nervous, shoulders. - -The meshes of the lace concealed the true identity of the intruder, -and Mrs. Howard no doubt considered herself to be in the clutches of -some poisonous and persistent spider. She shook her scarf; she tried -to slay the monster with her book of minutes; she screamed. Finally, -jerking the scarf from her shoulders and flinging it into the middle -of the floor, she bravely trampled the "thing" underfoot, and thus she -silenced it. Then she subsided upon the sofa, pale and exhausted. - -"Let's have the sandwiches--quick," Cousin Eunice whispered to me, and -I fled to the dining-room to see that everything was in readiness. - -Under the genial influence of the buffet luncheon I found that they -all unbent somewhat--enough to get down to commonplaces, even -discussing such things as husbands, wall-paper and jap-a-lac. - -I vibrated between the scene of gaiety in the house and the more -enjoyable frog funeral, which was in full blast in the back yard. - -Grapefruit had taken down one of the kitchen window shades to make a -tent, under which there was an attractive tub of water, with several -members of the bereaved frog family sporting heartlessly around in its -muddy depths. - -I had not thought of danger, although I had seen Waterloo dabbling in -this tub pretty constantly during the last sad rites; but after the -final Scribbler had departed and his weary mother came upon the scene, -little Waterloo was ordered peremptorily in the house, and dire -predictions were made. - -"Oh, you'll be sure to have croup to-night," Cousin Eunice said -dejectedly, as she followed Waterloo up the stairs and rubbed down his -dripping little hands and arms with a Turkish towel. This task being -finished to her maternal satisfaction, she turned to me with a look of -unutterable weariness. - -"Unhook me, Ann; my head is bursting. I'm going to bed." - -So this is how it came about that when the door-bell rang at eight -o'clock to-night there was nobody but me in fit condition to receive -callers. Rufe was alternately filling the hot-water bottle for Cousin -Eunice's aching head and racking his own brain trying to remember -where he had put the wine of ipecac after Waterloo's last spell of -croup. And the poor little darling was coughing in a manner that to me -was frightfully alarming. With no thought in my mind save to help Rufe -in his nursing feats, I had taken off my party frock and had slipped -on a low-neck Peter Pan blouse, with a fresh linen skirt. My hair was -about ready to tumble and my face flushed with worry over Waterloo. - -"Oh, the devil!" Rufe pronounced, when the penetrating sound of the -door-bell reached us. But it was not the devil. - -"It is Mr. Chalmers," I said, with a little catch in my breath as I -heard his voice down in the hall. - -"Well, you run down and get him settled," Rufe said, holding up a -little bottle of dark-colored liquid to the light to read the label, -"--then come on back for a few minutes and help me give the rooster a -dose of this--will you? It always requires an assistant." - -"Let's give the medicine now--then I'll dress before I go down." - -"Nonsense! You look a thousand times prettier flushed and careless--as -you are now--than you do all fixed up with your hair smooth. I don't -like to keep him waiting long, for he might have come to see me about -something important. You sound him, like a good girl, and if he -doesn't want to see me particularly tell him that my family is ill and -that you will entertain him." - -I did take time to glance into the mirror to satisfy myself that Rufe -was not entirely wrong--then I ran down-stairs. - -Mr. Chalmers was standing on the hearth-rug with his back to the fire -(which Cousin Eunice had ordered kindled up all over the house when -she realized that there was danger of Waterloo having croup), as I -came down the steps, and when he saw, through the big doorway, that I -was alone, he came to the foot of the stairs to meet me. The front -part of the house was still open, and there was a beautiful moonlight. -After I had greeted him I stood in the dimly lighted hall a moment, -looking out into the night; then I went on into the long, beautiful -room, which was filled with the scent of roses to-night, and, as we -drew up before the fire, I shivered a little. There was just enough -crispness in the chilly air to cause a deliciously shivery sensation. - -"Well, you have no engagement for this evening, I hope," he began, as -I moved closer to the hearth and stirred the fire into a brighter -blaze. "I should have telephoned, I know, but I was detained at the -office until quite late." - -"No, there are no engagements to-night. Cousin Eunice has gone to bed -with a headache and Rufe is nursing Waterloo through a spell of croup. -By the way, you'll excuse me while I run back a few minutes and help -give the little fellow a dose of medicine?" - -"Certainly--if you'll promise not to be long," he said with a smile. - -"Oh, it will take only a little while. Then, when the invalids both -get settled Rufe can come down--unless you are in a special hurry to -see him about some mighty political secret. In that case I can send -him right now, and play the part of nurse myself." - -"Please do _not_," he answered, speaking much more earnestly than the -occasion warranted. "I came solely to see you. Tell Clayborne he is -not to disturb himself on my account." - -Waterloo was breathing better and had gone to sleep by the time I -reached his bedside again. - -"I don't believe he's going to need the stuff, after all," Rufe said, -unbuttoning his collar and beginning to make preparations to be -comfortable. "Eunice says her head is a little easier, so I'm going to -lie down here and read the paper until I'm sleepy. Chalmers didn't -want anything special with me, did he?" - -"No. He said you were not to disturb yourself at all," I answered, and -he looked up quickly as he deposited his collar on the dressing-table. - -"So? He came to see you?" - -"That's what he says. He may later swear it by the inconstant moon. -She is so beautiful to-night, that you can forgive her for being -inconstant." I rattled away to hide my trembling joy, brought on by -the anticipation of two hours alone with _him_. - -But Rufe's eyes were grave. - -"Ann, don't lose your head over Chalmers," he said soberly, with that -queer density with which a married man usually regards a love affair. -(Oh, stupid Rufe! My head has been lost so long that I have grown -delightfully accustomed to doing without it!) "He is a good fellow, -and all that, but I don't know that he's good enough for you." - -"Ann!" It was Cousin Eunice's voice calling weakly from the darkened -room beyond. I went to her bed. - -"Ann, is that Richard Chalmers down-stairs?" - -"Yes." - -"And Rufe isn't going down?" - -"No." - -"Well, listen, dear: he may propose to you to-night--I have seen that -he was only waiting to get a good chance--but _don't_ promise him -anything! Until we know him better, dear!" - -I patted her hand softly, then ran into my own room to get a fan that -I might have something to toy with. There was a bottle of rich perfume -on my table, my favorite lily-of-the-valley, and I drew the long glass -stopper across my lips. Then I went to the window and looked out at -the white light of the moon. - -"Not promise him anything!" I said half aloud, the beauty of the night -drawing a sigh of longing that was almost a sob. "Oh, don't they -_know_ that I would promise him my very soul if he should ask it?" - -Richard was restlessly walking up and down the length of the long room -when I came down again. He crossed to meet me and held out his hand, -catching mine in his strong grip, just as if we had not shaken hands -only a short time before. "So I am going to have you all to myself -to-night?" - -"Rufe said he would stay with his ailing family, if you would put up -with my society." - -"Ah! Don't you believe that I came just to see you? I was afraid that -I should not be able to get a moment alone, so I was going to ask Mrs. -Clayborne, as a great favor, to let me take you to the theater--or -anywhere else that you preferred. I have tickets here to the Lyceum, -and there is a taxi-cab at the door. Shall we go?" - -"Let's stay here," I begged. "It has been an awfully tiresome day. Go -and dismiss the cab." - -He looked gratified at my decision, then went out to send the cab -away. I glanced at the bower of a room and felt a thrill of -satisfaction. It was all so beautiful, and I love beauty. - -"Shall I close these doors?" he asked carelessly, as he came in again -and I heard the chug-chug of the cab as it sped away. "Shall I close -these doors? It is really chilly to-night." - -"Yes, I noticed," I said in some confusion, for I remembered that the -closing of a door had meant a great deal to Alfred a few days ago. Ann -Lisbeth had closed it, because she knew that he wanted her to; and he -had looked to see before he had said a word. Evidently it is a way -with lovers! - -"I noticed that it is cold," I repeated, as he came over and stood -near me without speaking. "My hands are quite cold." - -I recognized the absurdity of this as soon as the silly words were out -of my mouth, and I tried to think of something else to say quickly -enough to cover my shamefaced silence, but nothing would come to my -aid, and I had finally to meet his compelling eyes with a frankly -embarrassed little laugh. - -"Let me draw your chair back from the fire," he said, after we looked -straight into each other's eyes for a moment, "or, better still, throw -something around you and let's go out on the little side balcony where -Clayborne and I always go to smoke. It is a glorious night." - -I went out into the hall and got a long, loose wrap. As he held it for -me to slip my arms into the sleeves his eyes traveled slowly over the -crisp freshness of the linen gown I wore. My back was to him, but I -was watching him in the mirror. - -"I have a worshipful reverence for virginity," he said at length, -"even if it be only of a white linen suit. I have always wanted the -first and best of everything. It is this entirely fresh and unspoiled -quality of your beauty that has so attracted me." - -We were walking out through the long French window which opens on to -the balcony, and as we gained the shadow of a thick growth of vines at -one side he stopped, putting up his arm to stop me. - -"Ann," he said, with the same sudden directness that had startled me -that day in the orchard when he had asked me about our first meeting, -"Ann, you have seen that--I am attracted? Dear, I don't want to -frighten you, you beautiful little _young_ thing," here he lost his -self-possession, "but I love you, sweetheart--love only you--love -you--_you_!" - -His arms slipped about me, and tightening their clasp after a moment, -he drew me very close, so close that his perfect face closed -everything else on earth from my view. And his keen gray eyes became -two points of steel that pierced through, straight to my soul, and -carried with them a sweet potion that inoculated my being with -adoration for him. - -I felt his cheek brush close to mine, his thin, cold face -transfigured; and, as if to prolong the exquisite torture of suspense, -we both held apart a moment before our lips met full. Then-- - -I was so swept by the storm of strange and wonderful emotion that my -senses failed to take it in at first--that Richard Chalmers was mine! -He loved me; he was feeling the same joy and the same torture that -were running like fire and wine to my brain. Even in the dim light my -eyes must have betrayed some of this bewilderment to him, if his own -thoughts had not been equally in a tumult. - -"You are _sure_?" he questioned, after his passionate breath had -slackened a little so that he could speak. "Ann, this means everything -to me. Don't let me kiss you like that again unless you are very sure -of your own mind." - ---But he kissed me again, and kissed--and kissed until his lips grew -cold, and I felt suddenly so tired that I could stand up no longer. - -Oh, divine rapture of senses and soul! Could I forget that kiss in the -hour of death? I wished that death might come then, as we stood -together in that first passionate embrace, our lips meeting in kisses -of fire, our hearts throbbing in physical pain. Oh, to die -thus--together! So perfect was the moment--so supreme the joy! - -My head fell over, with a little droop of utter weariness upon his -shoulder, and his arms loosened. - -"You are tired," he said, in quick contrition, turning my face up to -the moonlight. "Shall we go back into the house? I'm a brute to treat -you this way!" - -We passed in through the long window and walked over to the far -corner, where the big leather chair is. I sat down, lost in its ample -depths. Then he stood up in front of me and looked down with the -calmly contented expression of one who is greatly pleased over a new -possession. - -"You beautiful little _young_ thing," he said again. - -"Young?" I felt so secure, so happy, when discussing the question of -age with him now. - -"That is all I'm afraid of! You may grow tired of me." - -"You are afraid of nothing, Coeur de Lion," I answered with an -adoring look that brought on another avalanche of caresses. "I have -always called you that." - -"Always? Since when?" - -"Since that day at the gates of the cemetery." - -"Ah! And I have never ceased for an hour to think of you since that -day--and to wonder how I could make you love me." - -"When all the time you were the man of my dreams. Your face told me -that when I first saw you--cold as steel to all the world, yet strong -as steel for me." - -"You have never imagined yourself in love before, Ann?" he asked, -after a little silence which he beguiled by raising each finger-tip of -my left hand to his lips. - -"No." - -"I thought not. A woman doesn't kiss like that but once." - -"--And a man?" - -"I've told you that I have never cared for any other woman. That's -what makes me feel such an utter fool now! To think that, at my age, I -should have let a passion take such possession of me--before I knew -whether or not there was the slightest chance of its being returned!" - -"Oh, love, how humble the little god makes us! When all along you have -been _King_ Richard to me." - -"Well, there was never a king who found so worthy a queen-consort. -When are you going to marry me, Ann?" - -We had strayed off the heights a little and I was taking a much-needed -breathing spell in the less rarified air, when he sent my senses -reeling again at the question. Married! To this regal creature, who is -so splendid in mind, body and spirit! And he was asking me to marry -him, me--simple Ann Fielding, a dreamer of dreams, who had never -dreamed one half so radiant as this blessed reality! To live with him -always! "The desire of the moth for the star," oh, joy, the moth was -going to reach the star this time! Greater joy! the star was reaching -out just as longingly for the moth, and calling the tiny creature -another, an infinitely brighter star! - -"I hardly expected you to be in such a hurry about marrying," I -finally answered, after he had repeated the question. "I have heard -you say such cynical things about the holy estate--when you thought I -wasn't listening. One time you said you thought passion consisted -largely of not knowing what a woman looks like before breakfast." - -"Sweetheart," and his eyes were very serious, "I am sorry for every -light word I have ever spoken about marriage--since you have honored -me so." Then teasingly he continued after a moment, "The thing I -desire most on earth just now is to know what _you_ look like before -breakfast, sweet Mistress Ann." - -"Do you desire that most? Then what next?" - -"You know, love. My ambition is next--and all I have in the world -besides you." - -"You want to marry me and be governor of this state--now, on your -honor, which do you desire the more--_Richard_?" - -He threw his arms around me again, as I called his name, and stopped -my mouth with kisses. - -"Don't jest," he begged. "It is sacrilege to-night." - -Then we strayed from the heights again, and fell to talking about his -ambition, and from that to more commonplace affairs still--how we -were going to spend the next few days, and how we might arrange that -to-morrow, Sunday, could be passed together. _Together_, that was all -that either of us desired. - -"I'll come early enough in the morning to go to church with you," he -suggested, "then we'll have luncheon at Beauregard's, if we can get -Mrs. Clayborne to go with us, and--" - -"Mrs. Clayborne?" I asked in surprise. "What for?" - -"Ann," and he took my hand gently, as if he might be admonishing a -child, "I consider it entirely out of place for a woman to go out -alone with a man, even if the two are engaged. Evidently your mother -has never given the matter as much consideration as I have always -insisted should be used in the case of my sister--for I have seen you -alone with this friend, Doctor Morgan, several times. When I happened -to meet you in Beauregard's the night of the _circus_," there was a -struggle here between amusement and sarcasm, "I thought, of course, he -was some very close relative. But I find that he is only a dear -friend, with whom you take long country drives--and who gives you -heirloom volumes of Byronic poetry." - -"We have known each other since he first started to college," I -stated, by way of defense, but I own with less assurance than I should -have used if there had not been before me the picture of the scene in -Ann Lisbeth's library. - -"I think it would be well to return the book with a note saying that -you had found it too valuable a gift for you to feel justified in -accepting. And, of course, you understand that from now on _I_ furnish -you with every pleasure that it is in the power of a man to provide -for the woman he loves. If you want books, you have only to let me -know; if you wish to take a long country drive, you have but to call -me. I'll even take you to the circus," we both laughed, "if your -inclination is in that direction; but, little love, no other man must -come near you!" - -"You are inclined to be jealous?" - -"Not at all! I am simply trying to avoid all cause for jealousy." - -"There isn't any other man who wants to come near me," I answered -truthfully, as I recalled Alfred's beseeching look when he had -virtually asked me to avoid meeting him. - -"Nonsense," he declared, so suddenly and so decidedly that I smiled -with the pure joy of having him jealous. Richard Chalmers jealous! -Afraid that I might fall in love with some other man! "Nobody could -look at you without being attracted. I am far from being a ladies' -man, but I acted a fool for weeks last winter--because I had happened -to pass you on a country road. When you were driving with another man, -too!" - -"That was because we had found each other," I said, running my hand -through his soft, light hair, and dwelling on the proud privilege that -was mine. - -"--Well, you will be guided by my advice in this matter, I feel sure," -he said finally, "and you are too clever a little woman not to manage -to keep all other men at arm's length without betraying the secret of -our engagement." - -"Secret?" - -"Yes, please, dearest! Let us keep it secret from every one save our -families until this deuced nomination business is over. There would be -a lot of talk, you understand, because I happen to be a little in the -limelight now. They would be wanting to put your picture in the papers -for all the other men to gaze at. I can't bear to see a woman's -picture in the paper." - -I laughed a little and agreed with him. This was only another phase -of his kingly character. Whatever is his must be _his_, with a -fanatical exclusion of every one else. - -"I called you Richard, Coeur de Lion, but it was a mistake. You are -a sultan." - -"With only one love, my Nourjehan." - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -A DRAWN BATTLE - - -"And all the time the marble _belonged_ in the coffee-pot spout!" - -"How do you know? Who told you?" - -Rufe and Cousin Eunice looked up from the grape-fruit which had been -absorbing their attention. They always sleep late on Sunday morning, -and, on account of the headache and croup of the night before, they -had slept later than usual this morning. I had been up for hours and -had already had a walk out in the brilliant October sunshine. - -"Your Cousin Richard told me!" - -My words were quietly spoken, with only a tiny smile that insisted -upon creeping around the corners of my mouth, out of sheer happiness -from speaking his name. But, quiet as they were, they electrified the -two at the table. - -"Ann! _What?_" - -"'Tis true. The marble is placed in there, when the pot is being -made--to keep in the heat, you understand. Richard always makes the -coffee himself on hunting-trips, and--" - -"Ann! _Will_ you hush talking about coffee-pots? Tell us what you -mean! Are you already engaged to Richard Chalmers?" - -"Yes. _Engaged!_" - -"Well, upon my word! And this is how the shy young creatures feel -about the matter when the man's back is turned," Rufe said, starting -up and pulling out my chair for me. "You ought to have your eyes cast -down, and whisper the news with blushes and tears, you horribly modern -young woman!" - -But he patted my shoulder affectionately and said Chalmers always had -been a lucky devil. Cousin Eunice stared at me a moment in silence. - -"And you are very happy?" she asked. - -"Yes. _Very_ happy." - -"Then I congratulate you both." But she did not come and kiss me, for -which I was very thankful. I have a masculine dislike for scenes. It -was for this reason that I sprung the news of the marble in the spout -first. - -She asked a few questions as to how it had come about, but, while she -manifested no great enthusiasm, she was too humane to make any -kill-joy reference to her request of me last night. - -We finished breakfast and I pushed back my chair. - -"Well, I must hurry and dress for church," I said, looking -nonchalantly out the window, for I knew that this would be another -bomb. I have always been a notorious heathen in my family circles. I -usually spend Sunday morning in the woods with a book of poetry or -philosophy--sometimes with two or three children from the village--but -I _never_ go to church. - -The bomb exploded. - -"Rufe, listen! Did you hear that? Going to church with her young man!" - -"Well, it was his first request of me. I couldn't refuse it, could I?" - -"Chalmers always has had a way of making people do exactly what he -wishes," Rufe said, coming up to Cousin Eunice to kiss her good-by. - -"I shall do as he wishes when I think it is right," I answered with -some spirit, for it aroused me to think they should consider me an -incipient "doormat wife." "But of course he will soon learn that I am -not like his mother and Evelyn." - -"God forbid that he should ever make you like them!" Cousin Eunice -said, with so much fervor that I looked at her in surprise. - -"You don't think that he made them--what they are?" I asked. - -"I--don't know," she said, looking at me gravely. "He is masterful; -but that is far from being a bad trait. I imagine that his attitude -toward you will be just what you make it. Be frank and sincere with -him always--just as you are with the rest of the world. And never let -him make you do anything that will lower your self-respect. Many wives -do not know the meaning of that word." - -"But Richard will always exalt his wife." - -"Yes. He will exalt everything that is _his_--simply because he -possesses self-respect himself, raised to the n-th power. You will be -the best-dressed, the best-housed, the best-established woman in your -set. And that set will be wherever he chooses to place you. If he -rises politically you will have a brilliant course marked out before -you; if he does not you will still have a life of luxury, leading the -smart set in Charlotteville." - -"_Don't_," I begged, for she had spoken half in earnest about the life -in Charlotteville. "You know how I hate just plain society--the kind -that Mrs. Chalmers and Evelyn love. It would be the extinction of me. -Above everything else on earth I love freedom. But I also love the -'paths of glory.'" - -"And, don't you see, dear child, that if you tread these paths with a -man as much older than yourself as Richard Chalmers is, and especially -a man whose disposition tends toward tyranny, that you will march to -the music that _he_ directs?" - -"Well, if it's the music of his voice I shall bow my head and face the -east whenever I hear it." - -"Don't think that I am a croaker, but I am a married woman and older -than you," she kept on, ignoring the extravagance of my last sentence, -"and I may be able to give you some advice that will help you. You are -a girl of an _intense_ nature, very candid, very kind-hearted, but -alas, very impractical. Having been reared as you were you are -naturally self-centered and visionary, with a capacity for -development, but as yet you have not reached any very high degree of -serenity or _strength_, in spite of all the pencil-marks you put in -your little volume of _Marcus Aurelius_. You have never had to -practise sacrifice, patience, endurance--any of the virtues which make -a _woman_, and without which life is a vain thing." - -"All those things will come with--marriage," I said. - -"With marriage where the man recognizes an equal partnership," she -amended. - -"Cousin Eunice, you have no idea of what Richard thinks of me," I -explained, feeling very grave myself by this time, but wishing to set -her right in regard to my standing with my lover. "Of course all of -you still think of me as being ridiculously _young_ and irresponsible, -somehow, just because I have never, as you say, been put to any test. -But Richard knows that I am a woman, capable of knowing my own -mind--and he adores me--just as I do him." - -"Dear," our voices had sunk low, and she came over and laid her hand -upon my arm, "an adoring husband is a delightful thing--between the -pages of a book. But you will need a man who loves and _trusts_ you." - -"I am sure Richard does that." - -"I hope so. It may be that you can be a power for good in his life, -taking a sincere interest in his work, and letting your own honesty be -a kind of bulwark to him in the corruption which will be sure to -assail him in his career. Never _hedge_ with him, Ann, in the little -things; then he will have an ideal of his wife which will keep _him_ -from ever being tempted to hedge in the big things." - -"You know it is not my nature to hedge," I replied, rather -emphatically. - -"You have never been tempted to," she answered. "I know that you would -never come down to lying about the price of a fur coat, but luxuries -happen not to be your weak point." - -"Fortunately not," I said, with a little laugh, for the discussion -seemed a waste of time to me. Still I know that newly engaged girls -and brides have to listen to a lot of admonishing from their female -relatives. I wished, upon this occasion, that I could take mine as -indifferently as I once saw a bride take hers. I was a child at the -time, but even then I was impressed by the absurdity of a conventional -aunt giving, in a well-modulated voice, the usual advice about "bear -and forbear," as the pretty little bride-niece sat by and allowed big, -conventional tears to roll down her cheeks, while she kept on -industriously cleaning her diamond rings! - -"What is my weak point?" - -I asked the question, half hoping that the talk would be steered away -from the radiant subject, but to my surprise I found that I was -moving around in a circle. - -"Your weak point is Richard Chalmers--now and for the rest of your -life!" - -"You mean?" - -"I mean that you idealize him and worship him." - -"I do," I answered proudly. - -"And he thinks you are the prettiest little creature he ever saw, so -he wants you for his," she kept on, analyzing my feelings and his with -such a persistent accuracy that I found myself hoping my bridal advice -would be given me by some one with less power of character delineation -than is possessed by a lady novelist. - -"Ann, when a middle-aged man marries a young woman, especially if the -man has money, he is likely to treat his wife less like a wife than -a--mistress. He showers her with violets, kisses, diamonds; but he -neither burdens her with his troubles nor calls upon her for help. -Now, this may be pleasant for the woman, if she be a certain type of -woman, who marries a man to be 'taken care' of, but it is not -conducive to character development. If the man is poor and the woman -has to _cook_ she has a better chance to enter the kingdom of heaven; -but this is a rare opportunity, for a young woman seldom marries a -middle-aged _poor_ man." - -"But surely you don't think that I am marrying Richard for his money?" - -There was no reproach in my tone; I was simply astounded that any one -could take such a view of the matter. - -"Certainly not in cold-blood," she answered. "I think you are -bewildered--hypnotized by the halo which you have placed upon his -head; and the glitter of the man's amazing good looks." - -"The halo was already there," I corrected, but not so staunchly as my -conscience made me feel that I should have done. Cousin Eunice has a -disagreeably convincing tone in argument. - -"His good looks, while undeniably _there_, are enhanced by the luxury -with which he surrounds himself--his handsome clothes are a distinct -asset. Can you deny it?" - -"Certainly not! And his cigars are a joy. When I shook out my hair -last night it was fragrant with the odor. He smoked, you know, out on -the balcony." - -"Ah, and then you thought that your hair was a halo--because it had -the odor of his cigars in it!" - -"Well, let's not get away from the subject of _his_ halo. I believe -you said that I placed it around his head?" - -"You have done so, Ann! That halo has lain all the years of your life -in your imaginative mind. You have kept it in a sacred chamber of your -thoughts, while every tale of chivalry and every record of noble deeds -has sent you to that chamber with more golden virtues to weave into -the beautiful crown. Then one day you suddenly storm that room and -snatch up the halo to place it triumphantly upon the head of the first -startlingly handsome man you meet!" - -"If I have had a halo I have placed it upon the head of Richard -Chalmers, who wears it so gracefully," I defended. - -"I admit the grace," she said, still speaking gravely. "But--_does it -fit_?" - -"Well, he will be here in less than an hour," I replied, looking up at -the clock in some alarm, for I felt that I must be very beautifully -and carefully dressed upon this occasion. "I want you to come in and -talk with him every time he comes, and maybe you will tell me if you -think I need to take any tucks in the halo!" - -At half-past ten he came. I was still up-stairs when I heard the gate -click, but I ran to the window and gazed down upon him in silent -satisfaction. He threw away his cigar and swung briskly up the walk, -the morning sun shining down upon his glossy hat, and changing it into -an absurd kind of halo. - -"How is my little girl?" he asked in a low tone as I met him in the -hall. "Has it seemed a long time since last night?" - -We passed into the drawing-room and found chairs that would not be -directly in the line of vision of any one who might be crossing the -hall in front of the door. He caught my hand and pressed it, but there -was no sudden attempt at a stolen kiss. This was exactly to my liking, -for, above all things, I am _artistic_, and I should not care for a -lover who came in and kissed me before there had been time for any -display of feeling to warrant it. Yet I am saying nothing against this -habit in _husbands_. - -"Have you been waiting long?" he asked, his eyes wandering approvingly -over my dressed-up, Sunday attire. I wore a pretty pink foulard silk, -with a tiny white figure in it, the cream lace yoke and bit of black -velvet ribbon at the collar managing some way to bring out the best -there is in my eyes and complexion, for when pink and I are left -alone we are not congenial. I felt a sudden sense of gratitude toward -the woman who had made the dress and put that yoke and collar to it, -for I realized that Richard would be quick to detect any -incompatibility of colors. His eyes were still approving when they -strayed down to my high-heeled black suede shoes! and I felt sinfully -proud of my instep. - -"I've been dressed half an hour. Do I please you, Coeur de Lion?" - -"You are so entirely perfect that I know now I can never find jewels -that will be worthy of you." - -"Jewels?" - -"Guess what I've been doing this morning!" He had leaned over closer -to my chair as he spoke, and he again caught my hand and pressed it. - -I smiled and shook my head. - -"I've been buying my sweetheart an engagement ring." - -"Oh!" - -"That's what detained me. I couldn't find a stone that I exactly cared -for." - -He drew a little brown kid box from his pocket and touched the tiny -pearl clasp. - -"See if you think this will do," he said, handing me the opened box. - -On the rich satin lining lay a big blue diamond; it caught the gleams -of morning sunlight to its heart, then sent them back, with a dazzling -radiance, to my eyes. - -I looked up at him and had begun to speak when there was the swish of -skirts at the door and Cousin Eunice came into the room. I closed the -box in my hand and listened to what she might say to him in greeting. - -"I came to warn you two benighted young people that it is high time -for you to start to church, if you are still in the notion of going," -she said, after she had shaken hands with Richard and remarked upon -the beauty of the morning. "You can't rely upon Ann to know anything -about church time," she continued, as he wheeled up a chair for her -and we all three sat down again. "She hasn't been to church since she -was in the infant class at Sunday-school." - -"Ah! So I shall have missionary work to do--the first thing," he said, -answering her light banter. Then, after a moment he reached over and -took my hand, which was lying on the arm of my chair, in his. The -gesture was infinitely chivalrous and caressing. - -"Mrs. Clayborne, Ann has told you of our happiness?" - -"Yes. And I congratulate you sincerely." Her blue eyes were suddenly -grave and tender. She arose and extended her hand to him in frank -fellowship. He towered above her a moment as he gratefully pressed the -welcoming hand, then she turned and put her arm around my shoulder. - -"Ann is my little sister," she said, looking into his eyes with a -steady glance. "You must always be very good to her." - -"I expect to be," he answered gravely. - -We showed her the ring and she admired its brilliant beauty. - -"But, you conceited man," she said, with a really cousinly laugh as -she turned upon him, "you must have bought this before she accepted -you! She told me that the wonderful event happened only last night! -This is Sunday." - -"Oh, I happen to know Harper pretty well," he explained, mentioning -the name of the best-known jeweler in the city. "I called him early -this morning and he went down and we took a look through the vaults -together. This was rather the best stone I could find, so I waited for -him to set it for me." - -"Well, I must admit that I admire both your taste and -your--precipitation," she said, smiling on him in the friendliest -fashion. - -I had not had time before to give the matter a thought, but it dawned -upon me then that nobody save my imperial Richard would have had the -temerity to call a rich diamond merchant from his warm bed on a Sunday -morning and have him go forth with tools in hand to set a jewel. -Surely he could do anything he wished! He possesses an undoubted power -over men, and a high-handed, yet charming way of having people do as -he desires them to. Cousin Eunice was already showing signs of -weakening from her harsh judgment of the earlier morning. I remembered -suddenly the slim, satiny horse he was driving the day I first saw -him, and how he spoke only a word to her when she became frightened at -Alfred's car. She at once obeyed the influence of his voice. Tyrant? -He is no tyrant. He manages to get his way always by being so lovable -and so charming that it is a pleasure to give in to him. - -"Well, shall we be off to church?" he asked as Cousin Eunice went out -into the hall to meet Waterloo, who was just then returning from -Sunday-school. - -"If you prefer. I always try to take a long walk on Sunday morning. It -makes me feel so good and _holy_ somehow!" - -He smiled. "And don't you feel that way in church?" he asked. - -"No--except when the big pipe-organ is playing. I love the feeling of -cathedrals, without any organ, but I know that this is only a revel to -the senses, and it seems wicked to go--just for that." - -He laughed outright. "So you think that people ought to get spiritual -upliftment from going to church, do you?" - -"I do. And if they get no such upliftment I think they ought to have -respect enough for their Maker to stay away!" - -"Their Maker? Are you so old-fashioned as to think that there is much -_worship_ in these churches--with their paid singers and their paid -preachers and their heedless, gossiping throngs?" - -"There is _some_ worship. For the sake of those few I feel that the -reverential spirit ought always to be carried there. But I am like -you. I scorn hypocrisy. The sight of a notoriously immoral deacon or -steward sickens me with church-going for months. So I get my spiritual -upliftment from going near to nature's heart. The birds and the bees -are not orthodox--neither are they hypocrites." - -"Well, you shall show me some of these temples of yours about the week -after next, when I have packed you off down home, and have speedily -followed you there." - -"There are plenty such temples around here," I answered. "We might go -to-day." - -"Yes, but we are going to church this morning." - -"Why? You have just agreed with me that you gain nothing from -listening to a man who is paid so much a year to explain to you -something of which he knows nothing." - -"Good heavens, child! What a sentence from the mouth of a babe! I go -to church because it is good form." - -"Then you are the one who needs a missionary." - -"Well, I'll promise to quit going altogether after we are married. I -shall expect you and mother and Evelyn to keep up the appearance of -respectability for the family." - -"Listen, Richard," I said, standing close to him and lowering my -voice so that I might not be overheard. "I may as well tell you now, -in the beginning, that I could _never_ be a 'religious' woman the way -your mother is. Our ideas on the subject are wholly different. I have -a religion, but your conventional orthodoxy has little to do with it. -And I shall not pretend that it has." - -"Ann! I believe I have fallen in love with a little reformer. Will you -be so good, madam, as to set forth your views?" He spoke in the -lightest tone of jest. Evidently he had no idea that a woman possessed -such a thing as views. - -"Oh, it is a vague sort of belief; a dawning light of faith in the -Eternal Wisdom, against which orthodoxy seems like a harsh glare which -makes you squint your eyes." - -"Upon my word! What would mother say to that?" - -"She'll never say anything to it, for I shall never express such a -thought to her. It is a useless waste of breath. But, Richard, if you -love me, you will leave me untrammeled in such matters." - -"My dear, you are to be untrammeled in all matters. My only wish is -your happiness. Now run and get your hat." - -"I'm not going to church with you for the sake of good form." - -"What?" - -"My conscience would hurt me all day." - -"Of course you are not in earnest," he said, and the smile died away -from his lips. "So hurry, dear. We are late already." - -"But I am in earnest." - -"Then you are a very foolish little girl, and I'll explain, as we walk -on down the street, why it is well for me to show my face in the -different churches around the city." - -"You don't need to explain," I responded, but without stirring to get -my hat. "I know that it will gain votes for you. But I don't approve -of such methods." - -"Ann, I have found that it will never do to discuss any kind of -business proposition with a woman. So let us not waste any more time -arguing the matter. Go and get your hat." - -I had moved back from him a step or two and had opened my lips to -state my position again, when Cousin Eunice, for the second time, -broke in upon an interesting scene. - -"Mr. Chalmers, Rufe has just called me to ask if you were out here. -It seems that there are some important out-of-town voters down at the -_Times_ office. They are anxious to see you, as they are just passing -through the city and will leave at two o'clock. Rufe apologized for -his cruelty, but he says it is important that you should come." - -"Thank you very much, Mrs. Clayborne. Of course I shall have to go." -He turned to me with sudden regret. Evidently he had already forgotten -the slight difference of opinion. If he recalled it he would smile -over my "stubbornness." - -After he was gone I told Cousin Eunice of the occurrence. - -"So soon?" she asked, with a smile for my earnestness. She did not -consider his proposed offense such a crime as I did, but she looked -serious as I told her of our little clash. "If the telephone hadn't -summoned him I wonder which of you would have come off victorious?" -she questioned. - -"I--wonder?" I repeated absently, but the big diamond was flashing a -reminder of his love into my eyes and heart, and, as Cousin Eunice -turned and left me, I bent and kissed the stone. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -SHADOWS - - -At home, back of the village, and extending so far away that I had -never yet explored the uttermost reaches of it, lies a long, low hill. -It is wooded in places with patriarchal oaks, so stately and -far-reaching that they call to mind the tales of fairy forests, where -knights in glittering armor rode through; or giants lived in hidden -houses in the midst of them. - -With the varying seasons this hill always seems to tell the silent -story of the feelings in nature called forth by the changes. It speaks -of joy in the spring; a gentle sadness in the summer; a glorious -renunciation when the living green must give way to the gorgeous, -though dying, red; and in winter there seems to be a spirit of -patience. - -Back of the actual summit of the hill, and partly shut in by its -crest, which runs along half of its rounding curve, and skirted on the -other side by the woods, where the oaks and chestnuts grow, is an -expansive depression, wide, rolling, beautiful. The ground, which is -barren red clay, is thickly coated over with a scrubby growth, green -for only a short while every spring, when there are millions of minute -blue blossoms deep-set in its mazes. Later, it takes on a dull brown -which lasts until fall, when it changes to a withered yellow. - -A few small cedar trees, growing sometimes singly, sometimes in sparse -clumps, are dotted around over the ground, but the only actual beauty -of the place is its look of great space. It is the only spot I know of -where I can see sky enough. - -The sky! Yes, that is its charm. It seems to close down upon this cup -with such a _nearness_ that on summer days you can almost reach up and -touch the clouds. And they are unbelievably lovely at such times. Then -on other days, when the heavens are hidden by long, sweeping bars of -heavy gray cloud, and the wind comes tearing over the crest, like a -monster knowingly cruel and relentless--then the expanse of earth and -sky indeed seem to run together; but the look of nearness is lost. The -feeling of immensity is crushing; and you have the sense of being -brought face to face with an unseen Presence. - -Cathedrals hold this Presence, but tamed, trained and refined -sometimes out of all semblance to its mighty prototype of the wilds. - -Years ago, when I was a child, Cousin Eunice used to take me up here, -for she was the first one of our family ever to discover the place. To -be sure, it had always been there, and we had driven around it -whenever it had been necessary, but nobody ever dreamed of wanting to -take walks there, for it is a wild, lonesome-looking spot, besides -being cut up in places by great gulches. In the exact center of the -depression there is the bed of a prehistoric lake. The stone basin is -there, with all signs of water, at a tremendous distance in the past. - -"Isn't it _great_!" Cousin Eunice exclaimed, as we came upon the spot -for the first time in our rambles. "Why, it is like being in another -world, where everything is fresh, and free, and primitive. Let us -pretend that this is our sacred garden, where we can carry only happy -thoughts; where we can look at this immensity and learn the true value -of things!" So we would often walk here, sometimes with Rufe; and then -they would discuss the mysteries of Life and Death and Abiding Love. - -On the Monday morning after the events of Sunday which I have just -recorded, I awoke with an overpowering desire to get away to this -"garden." I wanted to get out to where there was sky enough! To a -place so immense that I could think it all out and get a true value of -things! I wanted to dwell on the great happiness that has come to me; -to take in, if I could, the unbelievable fact that I have been whirled -away through the infinite spaces of human longing until I have come -upon and possessed the star of my heart's desire. Star of my heart's -desire! King or sultan, he is the "god of my idolatry,"--Richard -Chalmers, my lover! - -And while I craved this sight of a wild, free nature, I felt keenly -that I should wish, on a morning like this, that the clouds and sky -and trees should shrink into their proper place in the background of -the mighty stage. They should move back and make room for me; and my -triumphant ego should come and place itself in the limelight for me to -review. I wanted to see myself at the age of Eve. - -I explained some of this feeling to Cousin Eunice, in idiomatic -English, after breakfast on Monday morning, but here was a hue and -cry. It was the wrong thing for me to do, she declared. I should stay -here and get better acquainted with my fiance. Besides, the first few -weeks of a courtship were too dear and precious to be spent apart! I -should die of homesickness for a sight of this beautiful city where I -had gained my new-found joy! - -I mentioned the matter to Richard when he came that evening--that I -wanted to go home for a day or so anyway, then I might come back--and -I found that he approved the plan most decidedly. - -"I shall be out of town for several weeks," he said, "and of course I -don't want you here in the city while I'm away." He spoke with a -half-playful air, but I had already learned to read his expression so -well that I knew he was in earnest. "You don't suppose for a minute -I'm going to give any other fellow a chance to steal you away from me -now, do you? Before I have had time to realize my good fortune?" - -"I wish you would _not_ talk that way, even in jest," I told him -seriously. "It implies a kind of distrust." - -He had been there quite half an hour when this took place, but he came -over to my chair and kissed me for the first time. If Richard does -treat his wife as a plaything, as Cousin Eunice suggested, I don't -believe he will find it necessary to shower many violets and diamonds -upon her. I believe that kisses will do the work. - -"Distrust! Love, _little_ love, don't say that again!" - -"Then let's for ever bar discussions about any other man." - -"I shall be delighted to! And, to make assurance doubly sure, I'm -going to pack you off down home, as I mentioned yesterday. I'll be -gone just a few weeks, and shall, of course, run down to see you the -minute I get back to this part of the state. I am going by -Charlotteville to tell mother and Evelyn the news." - -"And we'll have letters every day." - -"And I'll call you up whenever I'm where a long-distance 'phone is. -Some of those little towns don't boast one." - -He drew me close to him and we went together out to the little balcony -where he could smoke. The smoke blew through my hair and lingered -there. It seemed almost like a kiss from him that night, as I loosened -my hair and began to brush it out. - -"Oh, I _wish_ it could stay there until he comes back," I whispered in -agony, as I buried my face in the soft, odorous mazes; and thought of -the long days that would have to pass some way before I could see him -again. - -"I believe I'll go and get Neva to walk with me this morning," I -decided, when mother told me that Mrs. Sullivan has been obliged, by -maternal affection, to send for her daughter to come home and spend -the week-end. "She will not disturb my musings." - -I have been home several days now and have had an equal number of -letters from Richard, dear letters, all; and after the receipt of each -one I feel that same inclination to get out under the open skies with -my joy. - -This was Sunday morning, and there is a glorious Indian summer sun -shining over the earth with that soft haze which only this season of -the year gives. Of course I could not stay in the house. - -When I rang the door-bell at the Sullivan cottage about ten o'clock I -was admitted upon a scene of confusion which vainly tried to smooth -itself out into a Sabbathical family-quiet upon my entrance. But the -tension made itself felt in spite of the Sunday clothes in evidence, -and the Bibles lying in readiness on the center-table in the parlor. - -I mentioned the object of my visit, but Neva shook her head -reluctantly. She would love to go walking with me, she explained, but -she was going to church. - -Her tone and statement were both so inoffensive that I was naturally -startled at the storm which burst forth at her words. - -"You _ain't_," Mrs. Sullivan contradicted flatly, displaying an -unwonted degree of animation. - -"I am," Neva answered, with a _Vere de Vere_ repose. - -"Your hats is all locked up," her mother suggested. - -"Then I'll go bareheaded. They'll think it's a new style that I've -learned in the city." - -Mrs. Sullivan subsided into a chair and showed signs of tears. - -"I see that it's poorly worth while to educate you," she began, but -Neva interrupted her nervously. - -"Oh, mamma, don't say _educate jew_." - -"Now, did you ever hear anything that sassy? I don't see how _no_ man -could want you!" - -Mrs. Sullivan's tone was tearful, but Neva's sensitive ears had -already drunk in their money's worth of culture at the college for -young ladies. - -"There you go again! '_Want chew._' Mamma, haven't I begged you not to -go through life saying chew and Jew, unless you refer to -mastication--or an Israelite?" - -The tears actually started at this piece of filial cruelty, and Mrs. -Sullivan turned to me for consolation. - -"Now, I'll put it to you, Miss Ann, ain't that enough to make a woman -wish she hadn't never saw a child? And do you know what this trouble -is all about?--That common, ig'nant clodhopper, Hiram Ellis, that -Nevar's almost broke her neck to see since she's been home." - -"Why, I thought Hiram was in high favor--with you _all_," I said in -surprise, remembering the occasion of the fainting-spell. - -"He was, so long as Nevar was just a ordinary country girl," Mrs. -Sullivan explained, wiping her eyes and glancing with a look of shame -and reproach at Neva; "but do you reckon me and Tim's spending all -that money on her education, and then let her turn in and marry -anybody as _plain_ as Hiram Ellis?" - -"_Plain!_ Well, I don't see as we're so _fancy_!" Neva said -indignantly. - -"Is she going to marry him this morning?" I asked, and I noted then -the extreme fussiness of Neva's hair arrangement. It bore a truly -leonine aspect. She had on her school uniform, and so, except for the -number of class-pins, she had not sinned excessively in the way of -dress. But the hair gave me some misgivings as to her intentions. - -"Ain't no telling what she'll do," her mother said hopelessly. "She's -bent on going to church where she can see him! We've done all we could -to keep her at home, even to locking up her hats and Tim carrying off -the curling-irons in his pocket so she couldn't curl her hair. But do -you know what that young'un done? I'll be blessed if she didn't hunt -up her pappy's old tool box and git out his old _augur_--and curled -her hair on that. Did you ever hear of a girl so deep in love that -she'd _curl her hair on a het augur_?" - -"Oh, mamma," she begged piteously, "don't say 'pappy!' And _don't say -'het!'_" - -So it happened that I walked alone through the "garden." Alone, yet I -felt that I was in a beloved presence, for Richard's last letter was -with me. I sat down at the edge of the lake which had dried up in the -Stone Age, and drew the letter out from its resting-place to read it -over again. - -Richard's handwriting is heavy, black, and almost as free from flowing -curves as the chirography of a literary man. "Sweetheart," the letter -began, and the firm lines which formed the letters looked very much as -if he meant it. It was signed "Richard, R. I.," in humorous acceptance -of the title I had given him. But perhaps the dearest thing in -connection with the letter was the faint aroma of "Habana" which hung -over it. I held the sheets up close to my face and shielded them from -any vandal winds that might slip up and covet that sweet odor; and I -recalled the smile in his eyes when he made me the promise that he -would always be smoking when he wrote to me--that the letters might be -more realistic. - -"Don't tell me any more that you are a full-grown woman," he said, as -he made the promise. "You are a child--but adorable." - -He knew that I would be lonely, the letter stated, but he had left -orders with a book-dealer that a batch of new books be sent out to me -each week, to help while away the time. Orders had also been left with -the florist and confectioner--and I must at once report to him any -negligence on the part of these worthies. - -"Of course you have already acted upon my suggestion that you return -the Byron book," the letter continued, as if the mention of books had -brought this affair to his mind, but I fancied that he had mentioned -them rather as a means of leading up to this. "I know you would not -keep it after I have shown you the impropriety of your doing so." - -"Impropriety!" That is a word that I hate and avoid. No one had ever, -to my knowledge, used it in connection with anything I have ever done -up until this time. I bridled a little as I read it over. Somehow, out -here in the wilds, I seemed to recall suddenly that if Richard is a -gallant lover, so also is Alfred an old, and very dear friend--while -the Byron book is a delightful possession. - -"I shall not send it back," I decided, after a little reflection. "I -shall stand my ground. He is not unreasonable, and he will sooner or -later understand that I am old enough to judge for myself between -things proper and improper! Ugh, how the words remind me of my -prospective mother-in-law!" - -I hastily mapped out a letter in reply to this, telling him that I -should keep the book, because I saw no reason, on the grounds he -mentioned, for sending it back. - -So intent was I upon this idea that I hastily jumped up from my sunny -nook by the old lake and shook out my skirts. I would go home right -now and write that letter! - -I made my way across the breadth of the valley and leisurely climbed -the hill, for the midday sun was quite hot. I paused and looked back -once in a while, for the garden was so beautiful this morning. - -There was absolutely no thought of defiance in my idea of showing -Richard my viewpoint, for I did not dream that he considered the -affair in any other light than the cut-and-dried distaste to "a young -woman receiving presents from a young man to whom she is not engaged." -He had not _asked_ me to return the book. He had simply shown me the -error of my way--and I had failed to recognize it. - -I stopped again to look around at the wild beauty of the place before -leaving it, then, with a little running start, I quickly gained the -crest. When I had reached it I stopped once more, this time with a -startled surprise, for I found myself face to face with Neva. I noted, -with amusement, that she had possessed herself of a hat. - -"Well, so you decided to come for a walk?" I said in greeting. "How -did you manage to get your hat out of the wardrobe?" - -She stopped still in the path and her eyes suddenly met mine in a look -of dumb misery. I first thought that the question might have been -embarrassing to her, and was trying to think of something to cover it, -when she spoke. - -"Piled a box on a chair on a table," she explained with an effort, -"until I could reach up high enough to prize the top off. 'Twas old -and loose--and I still had the augur!" - -"Neva! Think of the perseverance! And after all that, you didn't get -to see him?" - -At my words her mouth tightened at the corners, and her eyes looked -very bright and dry. - -"Oh, I saw him," she answered bitterly, after a moment's struggle. "He -drove right past me while I was trudging down that dusty road to -church. But he didn't see _me_. He had Stella Hampton in the buggy -with him." - -"Stella Hampton? Who is she?" - -"She's the girl that sicked the fit doctor on to me!" - -I tried to comfort her, but she was desolate. - -"It ain't that I care so much about _him_," she assured me, -forgetting, in her misery, her boarding-school English, "but oh, I -can't bear to face them at home. It's so terrible to be made ashamed -before folks." - -I agreed with her and insisted that she go home with me, not braving -the ordeal of facing her own family until late in the afternoon, when -they should have forgotten it a little. Tears of gratitude came to her -pretty, troubled eyes as she joyously accepted my invitation. - -Mother was on the front porch as we came up the walk and she welcomed -Neva cordially. - -"Ann," she said, turning to me and speaking in an undertone, "there is -a long-distance call for you. The operator has rung up several times, -then said that the 'party' would call again at twelve-thirty." - -"Oh, mother!" I cried, with a great throb of pleasure. In a few -minutes I should be listening to the sound of his voice, and that was -a deal more satisfying than the aroma of cigar smoke in a letter! - -"Little runaway, where have you been all morning?" I heard in his -dear, drawling tones after the connections had been made and listening -ears supposed to be removed from the line. "I've been trying for three -hours to get you." - -"I've been out for my Sunday morning tramp," I answered, a sudden -overwhelming longing to _see_ him sweeping over me. His voice sounded -so near that I could scarcely believe that half the length of the -state lay between us. - -"Alone?" - -There was no drawl to this query. - -"No, not alone. I had your letter with me." - -"When are you going to answer it, sweetheart?" - -"To-day. I have already thought up some of the things I'm going to say -to you." - -It might have been thought transmission, or it might have been chance, -but at all events, it is the honest truth, that the next question was -the one in my mind. - -"And what have you to say for yourself about Doctor Morgan's book, my -lady?" - -"A good deal more than is profitable to say over a long-distance -telephone," I replied, hoping to change the drift of the talk. I felt -that I could say my little speech better on paper than I could over -the wires. - -"Well, that has been troubling me a little, Ann," he said in his -unsmiling voice, and I felt that his eyes were looking coldly into the -space just beyond his telephone. "I see that you are disposed to -argue the matter. I had an idea that you had not sent it back, so I -decided to ask you when I got you to the 'phone. Now, the question is, -are you going to be guided by what I tell you in this matter, or not?" - -No woman who has not experienced the agony can half appreciate the -feeling of sudden terror that came over me at the cold sound of his -voice. It seemed to have a threatening tone of _finality_ in it that -chilled me to the bone. I had such a feeling of helplessness somehow. -You can argue with a man and cajole him and smooth his hair when he is -where you can get your hands on him, knowing all the time that you are -not going to let him leave the house until he has smiled the smile -that won your heart; but, oh, the futility of trying to argue with a -masterful lover over a long-distance telephone. - -"Are you talking? I can't hear a word." - -"I'm not talking, Richard," I answered. "I'm--I'm _thinking_." - -"Well, I called you because I wanted to hear you talk. You haven't -answered my question yet." Again that tone of cold meaning. A hundred -thoughts a minute were flying through my brain. Should I say no and -have a quarrel with him? Should I say yes, and prove myself a -coward--or should I lie to him? - -If this were a tale of heroism, I should have a few ringing words of -challenge to insert right here and then a quick curtain. But this is -not a heroic story, it is only simple truth, told with regret and -aspirations after a higher courage, yet still a true account of what -happened in our back hall this beautiful Sunday morning. _I hedged._ - -"I'll send it back, Richard," I told him, and he at once changed his -tone and the subject of his discourse, beginning a recital of how he -missed me and how he was going to cut short his trip up there and come -on back. I scarcely heard the words, for I was trying to frame for my -own conscience my sophisticated excuse. "I shall send it back if he -_convinces_ me that there is any just occasion for doing so," I -pleaded to myself. But after he had said good-by and I started from -the telephone I found mother's eyes fixed upon me in a kind of pitying -wonder. - -I flushed and looked away. Then I recalled Cousin Eunice's words: -"Don't let him make you do anything that will lower your self-respect. -Many wives don't know the meaning of that word." Wives? Dear me! I -have been his fiancee only a week! - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THANKSGIVING DAY - - -Thanksgiving day--and I have written nothing since the middle of -October! But you remember I told you in the beginning that my journal -might be, not so much a record of deeds as a setting forth of wishes; -and my wishes all come to pass so speedily these days that there is no -time to write them down. - -To be honest, I had no idea of bringing my journal up here to -Charlotteville with me, when I came for this Thanksgiving visit, for I -thought of course Richard would be here all the time and I should not -find a moment dull enough for me to sit down and write. But, as it -happens, I am glad that the book was slipped into the tray of my trunk -almost without my knowledge, else I should be spending a lonely -evening right now. - -Let me see--shall I begin where I left off--that sunny morning when I -parried with Richard across half the state and lived to regret it? Or -shall I begin with my entree into Charlotteville and then jot down the -past happenings as they come to me? The latter course strikes me as -rather the better, then perhaps I shall not be tempted to give any one -little occurrence too much space. Things seen in a sort of -over-the-shoulder perspective are more likely to shrink into their -normal size. - -If I had snatched you up, my journal, the day that Richard sent me -that exquisite chased card-case--a counterpart in pattern of his own -sacred cigarette-case which I had once fingered with admiring -reverence--I should have used up pages and pages of space, besides -impoverishing myself in the way of adjectives. But I spent so many -days dangling that card-case in front of me, as I stood before the -mirror--using always my sparkling left hand--that before I had grown -accustomed to the possession of it there came something even better -calculated to take my breath away. A dull gold brooch it was this -time, set with a green jade scarab--the little beetle bearing along -with it a page of typed pedigree, showing the why and wherefore of its -being. It in nowise detracted from the joy of possession, that these -trinkets came in the nature of olive branches. - -Yes, my sovereign was angry when I brought up the discussion of the -book again, the Byron book, which I had promised to return, but with -the proviso, under my breath, that I should be made to see the reason -why first. I learned that he not only has the heart of a lion, but a -little of that beautiful animal's kingly fury also when he is aroused. -And he was aroused at what he termed my deception. - -I made a clean breast of the matter the very first hour we were -together again, knowing that I could make him listen to reason if I -got him _literally_ at arm's length. But I had to listen to some -things, too, in that hour; coming off victorious to such an extent -that he finally called himself every kind of high-class villain -imaginable. Then, the next week this plethora of express packages. - -So it seems that my idea concerning the warring elements in his -character was not altogether wrong. - -But to hasten on to Charlotteville! Mrs. Chalmers wrote mother several -weeks ago that she wanted me to come for Thanksgiving, so there was -plenty of time for the getting together of clothes which I now knew to -be absolutely essential to my peace of mind when I should be with -Richard. I never knew a man to pay such attention to these little -details. But what else can you expect when you are engaged to an -Olympian god? Still--I almost wish sometimes that he did not lay so -much stress on mere luxuries, for people can have a lot of enjoyment -in life without them. Yet to Richard a big house, servants, expensive -clothes, all are as necessary as the air he breathes, and he wants to -make me feel the same dependence on them. - -During the one little visit I have made in the city since our -engagement he kept his promise of taking me for long country -drives--but always in a big touring car, with a chaperon and a -chauffeur! When I suggested that it would be more "fun" to drive that -pretty horse of his and go alone, he assured me gravely that many -things in this life which were good "fun" were not proper. So I said -no more, but I felt a sudden sense of gratitude toward fate for not -ever sending Richard driving past me last winter when I used not only -to drive out the pikes with Alfred, but get out and go down on my -knees to help him with a puncture. True, I wasn't much help, usually -being good only to hand him things, or _blow_ on the patches to make -them dry the faster--but I always liked to help, and he always let -me. - -But Charlotteville! Well, it is a small town in the eastern end of the -state--a citified little place enough--where there are at least a -dozen people who own handsome motor-cars; and the ices are always -frozen in fancy shapes at the parties. Still it is a little town, -where everybody likes to talk about everybody else--and the -power-house shuts off the electricity at midnight. - -I was glad when I found that there were other guests for this -occasion, for I thought that would give me more time alone with -Richard, and after I had met these guests I felt glad on their own -account, for they are delightful. - -Mr. Maxwell, the only other man, came down the same day that I reached -here; on the same train, in fact, but neither of us knew this at the -time, for I happened to be in the day-coach and he was in the Pullman. - -When I reached the station here at Charlotteville, and at first saw no -one on the little platform to meet me, I felt a sudden sinking around -my heart; but, after the crowd had moved along a bit, I espied -Richard's tall form at the extreme end of the platform. He was looking -with a good deal of eagerness into the windows of the one Pullman -car. With him, and talking exuberantly, was a boyish-looking young -man who had forgotten to remove his traveling-cap. Richard seemed to -be paying no attention to this bright-faced youth. - -I dropped my bag and hastened down the platform. - -"Oh, she's disappointed you, old boy! 'Tain't another thing," the man -in the cap was saying as I came up close behind them and slackened my -pace. "I'll swear there wasn't a thing in that car that looked like a -cross between Venus de Milo and--" - -"Richard," I called softly, and he wheeled around in delighted -surprise. - -"Bless your little heart!" he said, so genuinely glad to see me that -he forgot for a moment the presence of the other man. That is, I -thought at the time he had forgotten, but I soon saw that he -considered Mr. Maxwell too much of a good-natured fool to count. "I -thought you had failed to come," he kept on. "Where the dickens were -you?" - -"I was in the day-coach," I answered, after I had shaken hands with -Mr. Maxwell, when Richard remembered to present him. - -"What?" - -His tone was low and quiet, but his eyes spoke surprise, and I -remembered, with a sudden chill, that according to his ethics I had -done almost a disgraceful thing. - -"There were some people in the day-coach I--wanted to be with," I -began by way of explanation, but I saw that this was making matters -worse. - -"What kind of people?" he asked drily. - -"A woman. I got to talking to her when we changed trains at M--; she -had _such_ a headache--and two babies. The littlest one consented to -let me walk him around some; and I fed the other one the remains of a -box of chocolates. When this train came they got into the day-coach, -and of course I went with them." - -"Why 'of course?'" he asked again, but with an amused smile dawning in -his eyes. - -"Well, I was still carrying the baby! I couldn't go off into another -car with him, could I?" - -Richard looked at Mr. Maxwell and laughed perfunctorily, but I knew -that in some way he felt that I had humiliated him. Mr. Maxwell did -not laugh, although his is essentially a laughing face. - -"I understand," Richard said finally, turning to me again and asking -for my checks. "You have quite the appearance of a good Samaritan. -Your hair is--er--just a trifle ruffled. Couldn't you have managed -some way to smooth it a little before you reached here? Evelyn always -spends the last hour of a journey back in the dressing-room arranging -her hair and powdering her face." - -"Well, of course I know that is the ladylike thing to do," I -responded, with something more nearly like sarcasm than I had ever -used to him before. - -Mr. Maxwell was busy taking his things from the porter, and as he -exchanged his cap for a more dignified, but less becoming, hat, I -noticed a scar on his forehead, high up and extending quite a distance -toward the crown of his head. His hair grew queerly along the line of -the scar. He seemed purposely to have detached himself from us for a -moment, so I spoke to Richard again. - -"Richard," I said, speaking low and rapidly, so that only he could -hear. "I am sorry if I am a _fright_! But I just couldn't prink before -that woman on the train. She was deathly sick, so I kept the baby all -the way. Then she was _poor_ and proud and--I didn't care about -opening my bag and spreading all my silver things out before her!" - -He laughed again. - -"You are an extremist, Ann," he said. "But you are not a fright. -Only, you're so fine, when you're at your best--and mother won't -understand." - -"Of course not," I answered rather shortly; and the drive out to the -house might have been a very quiet one if it had not been for Mr. -Maxwell's irrepressible chatter. - -I was grateful for the chatter at the time, still more so when we -reached the house, for it helped my ruffled hair to pass unnoticed. - -The feminine portion of the family met us at the front steps, and, as -darkness was drawing on, I failed to take in at the time the full -magnificence of the outside of the house. When I saw it next morning -in the bright sunshine it struck me as being an oppressively massive, -gleaming structure, with a great display of plate-glass doors and -windows; and, instead of long, generous porches, as we have at home, -there are several tiled vestibules that each morning are--no, not -scoured, they are _manicured_. - -Mr. Maxwell is a great friend of Richard's, strange as it may seem -that two such incompatible natures should find so much in common; and, -being heir to his mother's fortune, is such a desirable catch that -Mrs. Chalmers frequently has him down here, hoping that he and Evelyn -will take a fancy to each other. Richard told me this, quite simply. -Evelyn wears her prettiest gowns and uses her softest tones when he is -around, but she is no more interested in him than she is in any other -man. In fact, she is too well brought-up to display any preference in -her marriage. Whatever her mother arranges for her will be entirely -satisfactory. - -And as for Mr. Maxwell--but that brings me up to a mention of the -other guest here now, and it is surprising that I have not said -something about her before, for she and I have been great friends from -the day I arrived. - -It is amazing that people can get so well acquainted in such a short -space of time when they are staying together in the same house, yet -when neither of them is what you would call "easy to get acquainted -with." I am not, I know, and I feel equally as sure that Sophie is the -same way, yet you will notice that sometimes when two such diffident -people are thrown together they will take a liking to each other right -away. - -It was this way with Sophie Chalmers and me. She is Richard's cousin -and lives in some vague place "out west." She happened to be visiting -some of the other Chalmers relatives in a near-by town for a few -weeks this fall and I think Mrs. Chalmers must have felt that if she -had to invite her it would be less trouble to have her when there were -other guests, so she asked her to come and spend the Thanksgiving -holidays with them. If the girl had been less obviously a sort of -"poor relation" (though by no means looking the part) or if Mrs. -Chalmers had not tried so persistently to keep her in the background -the "unexpected" which happened in this case would have been less -surprising. - -For Mr. Maxwell had no more than walked into the drawing-room and been -presented to her than he fell in love with her; and, like most -merry-eyed people, he fell very deeply in love. - -Even their meeting was most unusual--dramatic, you might call it. And, -as it took place at the moment of our arrival, it served to divert -somewhat the attention from my disheveled looks, which had been such a -shock to Richard. "Mr. Maxwell--Miss Chalmers," some one had said, as -we all passed into the house and the tall, rather tired-looking girl -unfolded herself from one of the big chairs drawn up close to the -hearth. She showed no surprise as she extended her hand to the new -arrival, but Mr. Maxwell looked at her for a moment as he held her -hand in his; then he asked quite simply: "Where have we met before?" - -The question was so earnest and so direct that the girl's face -flushed, but before she could even start to offer a suggestion as to -whether they had met before or had not, Mrs. Chalmers hastily put in -that there was little probability of a former meeting, inasmuch as -Sophie had not been in this part of the country in several years. - -"We have certainly met before," Mr. Maxwell persisted, his eyes still -fastened on Sophie's face, and running his fingers through his hair, -along the line of the scar, as if that could help him in remembering. -"I am certain of that. And I should surely not be so discourteous as -to acknowledge that I have forgotten--except there are so many things -hazy in my mind--since that night just outside El Paso." - -I, too, was watching Sophie intently, as we all were, and I saw her -eyes wander to the scar along his forehead. She looked away, but in -another moment had returned to it again, as if the queer little white -line held a fascination for her. At his mention of El Paso she gave a -distinct start, but regained her equilibrium almost immediately. - -"I must be a very common-looking person," she said with a little -laugh, turning to me as she spoke, "for I seldom meet a stranger who -doesn't know some one whom I am so exactly like that the resemblance -is startling!" - -We had all moved about a little from the positions into which Mr. -Maxwell's first earnest words had petrified us, and Mrs. Chalmers was -beginning to say something about taking us to our rooms, when that -persevering young man spoke again. He had not moved an inch, but stood -there in the middle of the floor, his eyes fastened on Sophie's face. - -"It's not your looks, that is, your looks are not so convincing as -your--your voice," he said, his expression still showing his -bewildered surprise; but something in the girl's face must have -pleaded with him to change the subject, which he did, easily. - -"Well, don't you think the scar adds to my list of attractions?" he -asked banteringly, as he turned to Mrs. Chalmers, who beamed approval -upon him. "The girls all think I acquired it in some brave, though -mysterious, manner--those who don't know that I got my sky-piece -cracked in a wreck in Texas last year." - -From that hour he began a course of small attentions, minor -courtesies, but none the less meaning, all of which have been -calculated to make Sophie regard him with quite a degree of favorable -interest, and if I am not mistaken none of these calculations has -failed to hit the mark. But since their first meeting I have only once -heard him refer to that unusual resemblance she bears to some one whom -he has known; and I am sure he found the impulse then to speak so -strong and sudden that the words were out before he had time to think, -for Sophie so clearly disliked a mention of the subject. This proves -to me that they have known each other in some mysterious manner, but -as she has never told me the secret, of course I have never questioned -her. - -Last night at the dinner table was when it came about, and, when I -think it over, it was a ludicrous happening rather than a sentimental -or even mysterious one. Mrs. Chalmers had been holding forth upon some -Scriptural interpretations which her beloved pastor has recently made -use of in his sermons, and, among others, the casting of pearls before -swine was brought forward for discussion. - -From the moment the word "swine" was mentioned Mr. Maxwell's face took -on its bewildered look and he fixed his eyes on Sophie with that same -intensity of expression which they have worn so often this last week. -Suddenly he seemed to remember what his mind was so evidently -searching for. - -"Swine! _Pigs!_" he blurted out, in such a startled way that we all -instinctively stopped eating to await developments. "_That's_ what I -heard you--or the girl with your voice--saying that night. I remember -it distinctly now! It was hot--heavens, how hot it was!--and there was -a fierce pain in my head for some reason; but I heard your voice, just -a short distance away from me, saying: 'This little pig went to -market, this little pig stayed at home; this little pig had--' and -there you broke off, because you couldn't remember what it was the -third little pig had. There was a peevish child's voice crying: 'Tell -little pigs! Tell little pigs,' and then a man's voice, trying to help -you out. You asked the man, '_Do_ you know what the third little pig -had--or did?' But he couldn't remember either. He began saying the -doggerel over again, 'This little pig went to market; this little pig -stayed at home; this little pig had--' - -"'Roast beef, damn you,' I hollered, for somehow I wasn't as near -being dead as you thought. 'Roast beef, but you needn't stand outside -my door rehashing it all night. Then you and the man laughed in a -surprised, though subdued way, and walked away from me, although I -didn't hear the sound of footsteps." - -His scar showed very white as he finished this queer little story; and -he looked at Sophie almost beseechingly. He had the appearance of a -man groping about in the dark. - -Sophie, too, was clearly embarrassed, but said nothing by way of -explanation; and, ridiculous as the incident was, not one of us even -smiled. - -There was a heavy, tense silence about the board for a moment, then -Richard spoke. - -"Upon my word, but this is interesting," he said, in a slow, sarcastic -drawl. "Sophie, have you been traveling in vaudeville?" - - * * * * * - -As we left the dining-room one of the servants told Richard that there -was a long-distance call for him, a bit of news which brought a frown -to my lord's handsome face. - -"Well, tell 'em I can't be found," he commanded briefly, as he caught -the extreme tip of my elbow and began steering our course toward the -library. We usually had a few short minutes alone there after dinner. - -"The operator has already told the party that you are here, Mr. -Chalmers," the colored boy answered, looking embarrassed and trying to -slink away into the back hall as soon as he could. - -"The devil!" Richard exclaimed, under his breath, but he loosed his -hold upon my arm as we reached the foot of the steps, and he suggested -that I run on up-stairs and wait until I thought he had had time to -finish his conversation, then come back and join him in the library. - -"If you mix up with them in the drawing-room now you can't find an -excuse to get up and leave when I have finished," he explained, and I -smiled a happy assent. - -Sophie, too, had gone to her room for a few minutes after dinner, and, -as she heard me stirring around in mine, she called at my open door to -say that she wanted my advice about something. - -"Come in, by all means," I bade her. "I have lots of advice." - -"It's about a dress for the ball to-morrow night," she said, holding -over her arm a dainty gown of soft white silk. She spread the garment -out upon my bed, then stood off a few steps and looked at it. "Do you -think it will do?" she finally asked. - -"Do? Why, I think it's lovely!" I declared truthfully. - -"Well, I want to look lovely," she answered, with a queer little -smile, but as she sat down on the bed and picked up a bit of chiffon -flounce in the neck of the gown, she looked up at me again, with an -expression of almost tragedy in her eyes. "But I have no gloves that -are long enough and clean enough to wear with this!" - -"Well, wear a pair of mine, then," I began, noting that her hands and -mine are about the same size, but before I could suggest this she had -interrupted me. - -"I didn't come in here for _that_," she exclaimed, rather haughtily, -throwing back her head a little and looking me squarely in the eyes. -"I wanted to talk with you a little because you don't seem so -oppressively elegant and _rich_, you know--" - -"I am not in the least rich," I assured her comfortingly. "Nearly all -my gloves have been _cleaned_." - -I hastily threw up the top of my trunk and scrambled around for my -glove box. - -"See!" I exclaimed, holding up a pair that she had seen me working on -the day before. "They _look_ as good as new, but whew! it would take -one of your Texas cyclones to blow the smell of gasolene out!" - -"One of _my_ Texas cyclones?" She looked surprised, but I fancied that -she was pleased. "Who told you that I live in Texas?" - -"Nobody that I remember; yet I got it into my head somehow that you -live in Texas." - -"I do. I live in El Paso," she threw aside the flounce of chiffon -which she was still fingering and started to her feet. I was standing -in front of her with the pair of freshly cleaned gloves in my hand. -"Ann, I hate lying, and I am going to tell you something, for I can't -keep up this deception any longer. I don't care what Aunt Ida says." - -There was a quick rap at the door at this most interesting juncture -and Evelyn stuck her head in. - -"Ann," she said, glancing quickly at us both and seeming a little -surprised to see us closeted together in this familiar fashion. -"Richard has just had a long-distance message from the city. He has to -go up there to-night on business and he wants to know if you'll let -him come up to your door and say good-by?" - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -SOPHIE'S STORY - - -I had to lay my journal aside last night before I reached the really -thrilling occurrence of Thanksgiving day, which was, strangely enough, -neither the dinner nor the ball, although each was in its own peculiar -way a decided success. - -I have Evelyn's word that the ball was a success, for neither Sophie -nor I attended it, albeit Richard had, at my whispered suggestion, -sent Sophie a box of long white gloves from the city, getting them off -on an early train that they might reach her in time; and sending along -with this a box of roses--Marechal Niel for Sophie, La France for Mrs. -Chalmers and Evelyn, while for me there was a great sheaf of American -Beauties. - -But he did not come back in time for the ball, and I suddenly lost all -interest in the affair as the last train out from the city that -evening failed to bring him. Sophie had been suffering all day with a -frightful neuralgic headache, and, as night drew near, it became so -much worse that she declared that she could not go to the ball. The -lights and dizzy whirling around would be the death of her, she -decided, so she dropped down into a chair in the library after dinner -and said she would give it up. - -"Then I'll stay with you," I volunteered, and, despite her own -protestations and feebler ones from Mrs. Chalmers and Evelyn, the -matter was thus arranged. There were always far too many girls at such -affairs anyway, they all knew, so that my absence would really be a -blessing. - -Mr. Maxwell came into the room just as the matter had been thus -satisfactorily settled and when he heard of the arrangement his face -beamed with a kind of mischievous happiness. - -"Now, that's what I call luck," he said, as the door closed upon Mrs. -Chalmers' retreating form and left us three alone together. "I'll go -with the ladies and stay long enough to see that Evelyn's card is -filled--then I'll take a sneak, and come on back home to see how the -headache is progressing." - -His smile spoke immense approval of his own cleverness, but Sophie cut -it short. - -"You'll do nothing of the kind," she said decidedly, looking up at -him as he stood by the library table, a folded newspaper in his hand; -"you'll stay and do your duty by the wall-flowers." - -"Not I, sweet lady," he answered banteringly. "Life is too short. I'm -coming back here and entertain your headache away!" - -And he did. He came in at about half-past ten, for the filling up of -Evelyn's card had been a matter quickly despatched, and he was in -radiant spirits over having "jumped the game." - -"Mrs. Chalmers didn't mind at all," he explained as he drew a chair up -to the fire and lighted a cigarette. "I left her in a corner with a -few other fond mammas and she even insisted that I should not go back, -as Jim goes for them about two o'clock. All I'm to do is to go out to -the stables and punch Jim in the ribs and wake him up in time. So we -are going to have a jolly evening together." - -"Oh, dear, what a pleasant prospect!" Sophie said, only half in jest, -as her hand went up to her aching head. "Now, if I could just get rid -of this one-eyed pain I might find life decidedly worth living." - -"Isn't there anything we can do?" he asked solicitously, casting his -cigarette quickly into the fire as if he thought the smoke might make -her head worse. "Can't Miss Fielding and I make you a mustard -plaster--or something?" - -"There is a little bottle of stuff in my bag up-stairs that sometimes -acts like magic in a case like this," she finally said with some -hesitancy, and I realized that she was hesitating because she disliked -the idea of having any one fussing over her. She is one of these -capable creatures who seldom ask even a small service of any one. - -"Let me run and get it," I said starting up and resolving that I -should get the bottle, hand it in to Mr. Maxwell at the door, then -betake myself off to my own room and leave them alone together. I -imagined that he would enjoy the privilege of hunting about to get her -a glass and a spoon himself. And it would make them feel more at home -with each other for him to be rendering her these little services. - -I went to Sophie's room and found a bag where she had told me to look, -in the closet on the lower shelf. I caught it up and moved across to -the bed, where I sat down and deposited it by my side; then I began a -wrestling match with the most obstinate catch that it has ever been my -ill-fortune to come across on an alligator-skin bag. - -"I'll just have to take it down and get Mr. Maxwell to open it," I -finally decided, after I had worked with the thing until my strength -and patience were both exhausted. "It is provoking to see the ease -with which a man can subdue a thing like this after a woman has broken -off all her best-looking finger-nails over the task." - -So I caught the bag up in one hand and my trailing skirts in the other -and wended my way back to the library. My load was quite heavy, -heavier than an ordinary traveling-bag I remembered afterward; and in -struggling with the lock I had at one time pulled slightly apart an -end of the stubborn opening. A whiff of drugs was borne to me in that -instant--a kind of combination of odors, none of which I knew by name, -but they were all strikingly familiar, for they were exactly like the -smells in Alfred's small black instrument case. - -"I hope you don't take all these different kinds of dope for your -headaches," I thought with a quick little feeling of contempt, for I -don't have much patience with the headache-powder habit. I learned -this contempt from Alfred, of course. - -Mr. Maxwell was alone in the library when I returned and told me that -Sophie had gone to get a glass of hot water. - -"She says that is all she ever takes for these spells of neuralgia," -he said, holding out his hand for the bag, when I explained to him -about the fastening. "But there is a little bottle of something or -other in here that she rubs on her forehead--and that eases the pain." - -"Then why on earth didn't she rub it on early this morning?" I -inquired wonderingly. - -"That's what I asked her," he answered with a slight laugh, "but she -says that the stuff burns the skin and leaves a red mark; and she -didn't want to be disfigured for the ball--I told her that she would -have looked just the same to me--red mark or no red mark." - -He was smiling good-naturedly as he worked with the lock of the bag, -which after a moment or two came open with a lamb-like docility. He -was walking across the room to deposit it upon the table when Sophie -came in and saw him with the bag opened in his hand. She gave a little -startled exclamation and we both wheeled and faced her. - -"That's the wrong bag," she said, speaking with such nervous haste and -her face wearing such a white, scared look that we both instinctively -glanced into the open case Mr. Maxwell held in his hands. "Don't! -There's something in there that I don't want you to see!" - -Poor girl, if it had been a dynamite bomb or a counterfeiter's kit of -tools, she could scarcely have looked more frightened, for Mr. Maxwell -and I had already seen the contents. His face suddenly went white, -too, as he quickly strode across the room and laid the bag upon the -table. - -"_This_ is likely the thing you didn't want us to see," he exclaimed, -reaching in and holding up to the light a glittering little object. It -was a hypodermic syringe! - -When she saw the silvery-looking instrument actually in his hand and -observed the stern, harsh look in his eyes she gave a wild, hysterical -laugh and walked quickly across to him. She clutched the shining thing -from his hand and held it up before me. - -"_Now_ you both know the 'disgraceful secret' which Aunt Ida has made -me keep so securely locked away from you," she cried, holding the -instrument in her hand and pulling the piston backward and forward -with a deftness born of long familiarity. "She made me promise to keep -it a secret, for she said that if her 'society' friends knew of it I -should be considered beyond the pale. Heavens knows that I am sorry -for it and ashamed of it, but there was a mighty--temptation." - -She sat down in the nearest chair and began to cry, her face buried in -her folded arms, and her shoulders heaving convulsively. I went over -quickly and laid my hand upon her head. - -"Don't cry, Sophie!" I begged, "it will make your head worse; -and--_this_ doesn't make the slightest difference in our feeling for -you. We are not 'society,' are we, Mr. Maxwell?" - -I glanced appealingly toward him, but he did not see me. His eyes were -fixed upon Sophie's bowed head with a pitying, yet _horrified_ stare, -then the look of bewilderment which he wore at the first sight of her -came over his face, painfully intensified this time. - -"My God!" he finally broke out, and I knew that he did not know he was -speaking aloud. "I have seen you before to-night with that thing in -your hand! I can even feel its sharp little sting in _my_ arm--but -where--_where_--I can't remember." - -At his queer words Sophie looked quickly up, but he had already turned -his back to us two and was leaving the room. We heard him linger a -moment in the hall as if he might be looking for his hat; then the -big front door closed behind him. - -"He still doesn't remember!" she said slowly, looking at me in -surprise. "I thought he would. I don't imagine that he has had much -experience with trained nurses, so I fancied it would all come back to -him when he found that I was one." - -"You took care of him when his head was hurt last year?" - -"Yes. I nursed him from the night he was brought into the hospital -until he was almost out of danger--it was a long, tedious case, and we -thought for a while that we were not going to save him." - -"And you really were telling some child about the little pigs going to -market one night when he heard you?" I asked, thinking how much -stranger than fiction this case was. - -"Yes. That was after he was beginning to be better, but I was still -his 'special.' The baby's cot had been moved out into the corridor -just beyond his door--it was so hot--and I used to slip out there -occasionally and get the little fellow to sleep. But I came down with -malarial fever myself before Mr. Maxwell was entirely well. That's the -reason his memory of me is so hazy." - -"Then why didn't you tell him plainly--when you first met him here and -saw that he remembered you?" I asked as she got up and opened the bag -wider to try to find the bottle of medicine she wanted, for her hand -went to her head in a manner which told me that all this excitement -had in nowise lessened the pain. - -"That's what I am so sorry for and ashamed of," she answered simply, -as she lifted some of the contents of the bag out and placed them upon -the table. "I shouldn't have stayed here an _hour_ after Aunt Ida told -me I must sail under false covers, but--I said a while ago, in my -excitement, that there was a mighty temptation! I didn't intend to say -it, but--it is true." - -"And the temptation was--" - -We heard the front door open then and close again softly. Mr. Maxwell -had finished his walk out in the cool night air. I hoped that he would -come on back into the library as he heard our voices, but he passed -the door and in another moment we heard his footsteps on the stairs. - -"They told me that _he_ was coming," Sophie said. - - * * * * * - -Four days have passed since the night of the Thanksgiving ball; and -at a house-party where four days drag there is a greater sense of -calamity than would be caused by a dreary four weeks at some other -time. For there is always the tormenting thought of how much hay one -might have been piling up if the sun would only shine. - -Here are the three of us--Evelyn, Sophie and I--all at the age of Eve; -and all enduring such a period of gloom that I feel sure if the -original Eve had been half as badly bored she would never have waited -for a pretty snake to come along and amuse her--she would have started -up a flirtation with a _grub-worm_! - -Richard is still away and I have not even had a line from him. Neither -has any one else on the place, of course, but his name appeared in the -society columns of the _Times_ the day after Thanksgiving. He had -attended the football game that afternoon with Major Blake's party, -the paper stated--and alas! I was in no position to dispute the -statement. - -Now if there is _one_ thing a girl hates worse than having her rat -show in the presence of her beloved it is to have that beloved's name -appear in a society column when her own is not in the same line! - -"Why the Blakes?" I kept wondering uneasily, as I read over the -hateful paragraph again and again; and I tried to fight down the -fierce feeling of jealousy which took possession of me. "Why couldn't -he have gone to the foot-ball game with some one else--or why couldn't -he have come home?" - -I found upon this occasion that jealousy is a passion which makes me -physically ill, and I thought quickly of how tormented Richard must be -by his jealous disposition. I wondered if he had ever felt the quick -desire to strangle Alfred Morgan that I now caught myself feeling to -annihilate the entire Blake faction. They had no right to make Richard -leave home upon such an occasion as this; or they should have finished -their hateful business and sent him on back home for Thanksgiving. -They certainly had no right to take him off with them to a foot-ball -game for all the world to see--and have his name with theirs in the -paper next morning. - -"Major Blake had with him in his car, besides Mrs. Blake, Miss -Berenice Blake, who returned last week from Denver, and Mr. Richard -Chalmers." - -I knew the horrid words by heart, yet I read them over and over. And -even this was not the worst. On the front page of the _Times_ was a -cartoon representing Major Blake seated beside a little creek, angling -persistently for a fish in midstream--a fish with Richard's handsome -head and "Chalmers" printed in big letters across the side. The bait -was a bag of gold and a handful of glory; and beneath it was written -"Little fishie in the brook, can daddy catch him with a hook?" - -Such a cartoon in Rufe's paper struck me as being pregnant with -meaning. What did it portend? Why did Richard leave home at this time -to spend Thanksgiving with old man Blake if it did not mean that he -was entangled with him? How deeply entangled--and for what? Major -Blake had some time ago given the anti-liquor forces to understand -that they had not money enough for their campaign to make a union with -them interesting to him. But the Appleton followers had been equally -unsuccessful in trying to gain his support. _Could_ it be that he and -Richard intended forming a separate faction where his own personal -popularity should cut a tremendous figure in gaining for him what he -wanted, and he could have the backing of Richard's friends among the -temperance forces? But where would Richard come in then? Why should -old man Blake give all the biggest portion of the plum to Richard, -when he had never been governor himself? - -I thought over the matter and _thought_--until I grew dizzy with the -problem, yet I never found anything that could serve even as a -half-way solution. But enough of my own grievances. - -As I have said, Sophie and Evelyn are both miserable, too, though in -entirely different ways. Evelyn is half ill, with a constantly -threatening pain in her right side--a trouble which she has had for -several years--and Sophie, poor girl, has stayed in her room most of -the time because she is so disappointed in the way Mr. Maxwell has -acted since he learned that she is a working-woman. Horrid cad! He has -watched Sophie every minute she has been in his presence since that -night, looking as if he were a detective and suspected her of carrying -concealed weapons about her. Yet all the time there is a look of dumb -misery in his eyes--sorrow and _incredulity_. - -He has several times tried to get me off alone where he could talk to -me of the occurrence Thanksgiving night, but I have been careful to -avoid him, for I am as much disappointed in him as Sophie is. Each of -them has tried to leave, but Mrs. Chalmers has insisted upon their not -doing so. She is so upset over Evelyn that she needs Sophie's skilled -advice in nursing, although no open acknowledgment of the matter has -been made. And she has insisted that Mr. Maxwell remain at least until -Richard returns. - -Meanwhile she has tried to get a message through to Richard in the -city, but she has been so far unable to find him. Altogether it is -rather a miserable household. - - * * * * * - -Another day; and it started so well and ended so queerly that I am not -going to try to sleep for hours yet--until I have written the whole -thing out so I can read it over and see whether or not it really -happened, for I find it so hard to believe. - -To begin at the beginning, Richard called up from the city this -morning and explained to his mother that he had been on a business -trip down in the country--far away from a telephone station, he said, -and so he had not been able to communicate with her. He asked her to -call me to the telephone and we had as satisfying a little talk as -people in our position ever have over wires. He would be down home on -the first train in the morning, he told me, and he insisted that I -tell him something he might have the pleasure of bringing me. - -"Oh, I'll excuse the olive branch," I replied in answer to this -question, "for I'll be so glad to see you." - -Glad to see him? Ah yes, so glad! And in the joy of the thought I -forgot all about being jealous of the Blakes. With this restoration of -happiness the day naturally passed more quickly to me, and I found -myself wondering why Evelyn didn't get over that hurting in her side, -and why Mrs. Chalmers still looked so anxious and why Sophie and Mr. -Maxwell continued to eye each other so reproachfully when the one -thought the other was not looking. Richard was coming home in the -morning! Surely all would be well then! - -Dinner was a dismal affair, for Evelyn was not any better--was not so -well, Mrs. Chalmers said, with a look of great anxiety, although the -doctor had not said positively what the trouble was. As soon as we had -left the table Sophie followed Mrs. Chalmers to Evelyn's room, thus -leaving Mr. Maxwell to a tete-a-tete evening with me. - -There was a brilliant fire in the library and we both were attracted -toward its cheer as we crossed the hall. He lit a cigarette and sat -staring moodily at the little clouds of smoke which he puffed into -the air. Clearly he was not going to thrust conversation upon me. To -make sure that he should have no encouragement to do so I began -looking around vaguely for something to read. There was a pile of -fresh papers which had come by the night's train lying folded on the -table, but I have had little appetite for newspapers since the day of -the fishy cartoon. I should not read any more of the horrid tales -about him, but he should tell me all that there was to tell and I -would believe him. But not a question did I expect to ask. His -confidence should be entirely voluntary or not given at all. - -No newspapers for me then this night; and I glanced around the room -for something else. Something forbidding-looking and very deep I -decided on as being best to keep Mr. Maxwell's conversational powers -in abeyance. I went to one of the book-shelves which lined the walls. -Running my hand along a line of Huxley's works I came to _Science and -the Christian Tradition_ and promptly decided that this was the very -volume I needed to impress Mr. Maxwell that I was reading something -very profound and needed all my wits about me. - -Returning to my chair by the fire I sat down and opened my book, but I -was in nowise disappointed by finding that the leaves had never been -cut. There was a heavy pearl-and-silver paper-cutter lying on the -table near by, but I did not take the trouble to reach for it. What -did I care for a lot of prehistoric teeth and toe-nails dug up and -brought forward to prove that before "Adam delved and Eve span" the -baboon was a gentleman? - -Mr. Maxwell continued to stare into the fire, and I do not believe he -ever glanced at the impressive three-quarters morocco binding I was -holding up so persistently for him to see. After half-an-hour had been -thus profitlessly spent I grew tired and decided that I would go to my -room and go to bed. Morning would come the more quickly this way. - -As I started to cross the room to replace the book in its niche I -heard Mrs. Chalmers going up the steps again--it seemed to me fully -fifty times that evening she had made pilgrimages up and down those -stairs on her way to and from the invalid's room. - -"Evelyn must be worse," I said aloud before I remembered that I was -trying _not_ to start conversation. - -"Possibly so," he answered politely. - -"I believe I'll go now and see if I can do anything to help Mrs. -Chalmers; she must be worn out." - -I put the Huxley back where he belonged and had turned again to wish -Mr. Maxwell good night, when I found that he had at last unfastened -his eyes from the bright fire and was looking toward me appealingly. - -"Miss Fielding," he began with an unwonted timidity. - -I had already opened the door to leave the room, but I came back a few -steps, leaving the door wide open; and as I did so I heard, for the -fifty-first time, the sound of Mrs. Chalmers' footfalls upon the -stairs. She was coming down this time. - -"Yes?" I said coldly in the direction of Mr. Maxwell. - -"Miss Fielding, I am going away in the morning," he said rather -awkwardly, as he pushed up a chair for me again, but I did not sit -down. I leaned over a little and rested my elbows against its high -leather back. He stood upon the hearth-rug, and even the shaded lights -of the room brought out the troubled lines on his face. "I am going -away on the same train that brings Chalmers home," he repeated. - -"Yes." - -"And I was anxious to talk with you a little before I go," he went on -with considerable hesitation. My attitude was far from being -encouraging. "You seem to be on friendly terms with her still--with -Sophie, I mean." - -"I _am_ on friendly terms," I said rather pointedly. "I am fortunately -not the kind of person who indulges in _seeming_ friendship." - -"Oh, I say, Miss Fielding, don't rub it in on a fellow! Don't you see -that I have been half crazy ever since I found it out? Surely you -don't think that the matter hasn't made me feel worse cut up than -anything that ever happened to me before! A man doesn't get over a -shock like _that_!" - -"Shock?" - -"Certainly shock," he repeated earnestly. "If she had told me she is a -horse-thief I couldn't have felt worse. Of course a man could keep up -a sort of pitying friendliness after such an acknowledgment as that, -but--I had intended asking her that night to marry me." - -He looked at me as if he might be beseeching me to speak a word of -comfort to him, but I stood there and said nothing. - -"Miss Fielding, surely you understand that I couldn't marry a woman -who, by her own acknowledgment, is a--a dope-fiend." - -"Dope-fiend!" I gave a little shriek. - -He looked at me a moment as if he thought I had lost my mind, then we -were both startled by the abrupt entrance of Mrs. Chalmers at the door -which I had a few minutes before left open. She had evidently heard my -horrified exclamation and come in to investigate. She looked from one -to the other of us inquiringly, and there was no use trying to hide -the situation from her. - -"Miss Fielding and I were talking about Sophie, Mrs. Chalmers," Mr. -Maxwell explained after a moment of painful silence. "She acknowledged -to us, Miss Fielding and me, the other night the--the truth about this -unhappy condition." - -"The truth?" Mrs. Chalmers' tone was questioning, although I knew that -she must have heard my startled cry as I repeated the hideous word he -had used a moment before. - -"It was the night that we stayed away from the ball--we three--and we -found the evidence in her bag. She acknowledged that it was true. I -had expected to ask her to marry me that night--but she is a -drug-fiend." - -Mrs. Chalmers started, but she did not speak. She made no effort to -correct him. - -"So of course I am leaving in the morning. I should have gone long -ago, but--" - -He looked at Richard's mother, who stood in the center of the room, -directly beneath the chandelier. The light shone down on her soft -white hair and changed it into a veritable crown of glory. She moved -her crown slightly as she nodded an assent to his suggestion of -leaving in the morning, but she did not lift a finger to detain him, -nor to set him right in regard to Sophie. Could it be that her desire -to get Evelyn married off to him was going to carry her to such -lengths as this? It seemed so; and I caught myself wondering quickly -if in so doing she might be carrying out a command of Richard's. -Likely he was very positive in bidding her keep Sophie's secret, or in -impressing it upon her that Evelyn ought to be suitably married. In -either case she would be mortally afraid to speak--she would _not_ -speak. Then quickly upon the heels of this came the knowledge that if -she did not speak it was my place to do so, for I knew the truth as -well as she did--but it might make Richard angry! It would be sure to -if he had given commands that the secret should be kept! I might even -lose him-- - -"That train leaves at six-thirty, I believe?" - -Again he looked at Mrs. Chalmers and she again nodded her head. But -she did not speak. - -"Then I shall not have an opportunity of seeing you in the morning," -and he walked over and shook hands with his hostess, making his adieus -in a wretchedly forced way. - -She shook hands with him and allowed him to pass on to me. I gave him -my hand in a mechanical fashion, and my eyes were fixed upon Mrs. -Chalmers' face. She was evidently frightened at the thought of the -thing she was doing; but she was just as evidently going to see it -through. - -"Good-by, Miss Fielding," Mr. Maxwell said simply, then turned toward -the door. - -I was still looking at her as I heard the sound of his hand upon the -door-knob, but as I realized in that instant that he was really -_going_ and that neither of us had lifted a finger to set him right, a -sudden power over which it seemed that I had no control came and -caught me, almost physically forcing me out of my place. I ran across -the room. - -"Mr. Maxwell!" I called. - -He came back a few steps and stood facing us. - -"You were leaving--that is, we were about to let you leave--under a -false impression," I stammered breathlessly, all the time a sense of -my doing something very much out of place strong upon me. - -"False impression?" His eyes were glittering feverishly. - -"Yes. It is true that we found the--the thing you mentioned in -Sophie's bag that night, but she is no--dope-fiend." - -He stood still as if he were petrified. - -"Physicians carry those things in instrument cases," I went on, -feeling that my explanation sounded very tame and inadequate. -"Physicians carry them and so do _nurses_." - -He looked at me a moment in utter bewilderment, then, slowly, -comprehension dawned in his eyes. Even the understanding was going to -be bitter to him, for there would be the humiliating confession that -he would have to make to her that he had misjudged her. - -As I said the word "nurses" Mrs. Chalmers moved a step forward and -held up a warning hand. - -"Ann," she exclaimed in a frightened whisper, "Richard said that this -affair was _not_ to be mentioned." - -"A professional nurse!" Mr. Maxwell cried, his face lighting up as a -hundred hazy memories came flooding over him. "In El Paso--my God! -_Of course!_" - -He came up to me and caught my arm. - -"This is what you mean?" he asked. - -Mrs. Chalmers' eyes were fixed on me in a kind of fascinated wonder. -How _could_ any one go against Richard's expressed wish? But my own -eyes were meeting hers steadily as I turned to answer Mr. Maxwell's -pleading question. - -"Yes, that is what I mean. Sophie belongs to the great army of the Red -Cross!" - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE DOUGLAS IN HIS HALL - - -As is frequently the case when I have gone to bed late and in a -perturbed state of mind, I awake early, with a heavy feeling between -my eyes and a marked distaste to getting up. It was so this morning, -except I had an indistinct impression that, instead of waking -normally, I had been awakened by some unusual noise. - -I turned over in bed and looked around the room for a few minutes -before I began to think of the effort of getting up. I had by no means -forgotten that Richard was coming--might already be here, as the -spasmodic bursts of sunshine indicated that it was at least seven -o'clock--but he would not expect me to do anything so unusual as to -dress this early and meet him down-stairs for a few minutes' stolen -happiness before we should meet and shake hands formally at the -breakfast table. The bliss of such a secret little reunion might, -doubtless would, appeal to most lovers, but not to Coeur de Lion. -He would see in it only the impropriety of a young woman meeting a man -in a deserted library in the early hours of the morning. Richard has -this way of throwing--well, not exactly cold water, but _iced -lemonade_, over the exuberance of my youthful feelings! I wish this -were not so, but-- - -I looked around the beautiful, befrilled bedroom, with its handsome -furniture of Circassian walnut and its dainty blue silk hangings--and -I thought, with a quick little pang of longing, of my severely plain -sleeping apartment at home. This Spartan bareness is in imitation of -Alfred's cell-like bedroom, which Ann Lisbeth had once shown me, and -which had attracted me by the air of wholesomeness the immaculate -cleanliness gave it. Alfred and I have often planned a house so plain -and sanitary that we could turn the hose all through it. Housekeeping -would be a delightfully simple affair with him, for he and I agree so -perfectly in our dislike of complicated things. Dear me! I wonder what -kind of house Richard and I will keep? It will be--expensive, but will -it be harmonious? - -The events of last night came crowding before me and I remembered with -a most disagreeable little chill that Mrs. Chalmers' eye had held a -look of terror as she thought of Richard's commands being disobeyed. -Was Richard a monster then? Did he _eat_ people when they dared to go -contrary to his wishes? I also recalled the day he and I had had our -first actual quarrel--about the volume of Byron which Alfred had given -me. His eyes grow very cold and glittering when he is angry, and--yes, -I can understand that a certain class of women might be very much -afraid of him. Especially if they had him to live with! And I wondered -if, at last, after months of struggling, I, too, might not find it -more restful and peaceable to become a groveling sort of hypocrite to -my lord and master? - -"Never, never!" I cried aloud, jumping out of bed as I heard again the -same sounds which had awakened me--hurrying footsteps down-stairs -through the halls, and the sound of many doors being hastily opened -and closed. "I'll give him up if I find him as they say he is." - -Just then I recognized the heavy, dignified slam of the massive front -door, a kind of muffled protest against the impertinence of using -haste with such an august portion of that house; then, a moment after, -there was the sound of an automobile starting. - -"Evelyn must be much worse," I thought uneasily, as I hurried through -with my bath and slipped into my clothes. If this were so I knew that -I should not have to meet Mrs. Chalmers at the breakfast table, and I -should be relieved of the ordeal of coming in contact with her bland -smile. I instinctively felt that she would meet us all exactly as if -nothing had happened the night before. She is entirely too well-bred -to bear malice. - -Now, for my part, I have a nervous distaste to whited sepulchers, -aside from any question of morality, and I always have a sense of -being brought face to face with the rottenness and dead men's bones -whenever I am forced to _smooth_ over a situation which has not been -thoroughly explained and threshed out. When I have a grievance against -any one, my first desire is to "have it out" with the offender, and I -always want any one whom I have offended to offer me the same -privilege of setting myself straight. - -But Mrs. Chalmers would, I know, sit for ever at the mouth of such -whited sepulcher with a bottle of vera-violet held to her nose before -she would face anybody in helping to rid the place of its pestilence. - -These thoughts were running through my mind as I was dressing, and I -will say that I had the grace to feel ashamed of them as I ran down -the steps and met her in the hall, her face looking old and drawn with -anxiety, her hair in disarray, and her figure enveloped in a fantastic -kimono. - -"Evelyn is very much worse," she said in a trembling voice as I came -up with her and inquired after the patient. "It is an acute attack of -appendicitis and Doctor Cooley has just telephoned to the city for -Doctor Gordon to come out on the first train. He says--she -can't--_live_ without an operation; and, even so, he is very much -afraid that it--the appendix--has ruptured." - -She broke down here and sobbed miserably, burying her face in her -hands and wiping away the tears upon one long silken sleeve of her -flowered kimono. - -"Evelyn is all I have in this world," she moaned, and I suddenly felt -infinitely sorry for her--and forgiving. "She is all I have to comfort -me in my miserable life, and now Richard has come home and blames this -trouble on me." - -"Blames you?" I questioned, looking down upon her disordered hair in -amazement at the thought. - -"He says that I ought to have known better than to let her dance so -much the other night," she explained, lifting a tear-stained face to -me for a moment, as if to acknowledge the sympathy in my voice. -Clearly she was not accustomed to sympathy. - -"Dance!" I said again in surprise. "Why, people have appendicitis who -have never seen inside a ball-room! That is a most absurd idea." - -"Not nearly so absurd as some things he hatches up against us two," -she broke out, her anger toward Richard making her forget, for a -moment, her anxiety for Evelyn. "Oh, Ann, he leads us _such_ a life! -He is exactly like his father--and he was a _despot_!" - -We were interrupted by the quick footsteps of Sophie, as she came -hurrying through the hall. She had an ice-cap in her hand, and there -was a thermometer-case thrust through her belt. There was no trained -nurse in Charlotteville, so she had quietly explained to Doctor Cooley -her qualifications to act in that capacity. Mrs. Chalmers whispered -this to me, as Sophie passed by; also that Mr. Maxwell had left on the -same train that brought Richard, but not before he and Sophie had -spent a long hour together in the quiet library. - -"She was up nearly all night," Mrs. Chalmers said, "so they came face -to face here in the hall at daybreak. She is a good girl, and he will -make her happy. I am glad they have come to an understanding." - -"But I thought--" I began, then stopped, not knowing how to express my -idea about her plans for Mr. Maxwell and Evelyn; but she read my mind. - -"You thought I wanted to catch him for Evelyn?" she asked without -embarrassment. "Well, I did, but I shouldn't have gone to such -lengths, except for the sake of keeping Richard in a good humor." - -"Then he'll be in a very bad humor with me when he hears that I was -the one who told about Sophie," I suggested, but she cut me short. - -"Oh, he's in such a fiendish humor about something that happened to -him on this trip of his that he will forget all about these things -here at home." - -"Is there some sort of political trouble?" I asked anxiously, but she -shook her head. - -"Richard never mentions his business affairs to us," she said, as she -smoothed down her kimono and followed Sophie up the stairs. - -Half an hour later Richard met me at the door of the breakfast-room, -looking very tired and morose. We sat down and ate breakfast in -unchaperoned gloom. He asked me a few perfunctory questions about the -happenings here since he left, but he volunteered no information as -to what kind of business it was which had taken him away, nor where he -had been. - -After breakfast we established ourselves in the library, he with a -batch of newspapers which he had brought with him from the city and I -had a new magazine, but he seemed to care little for reading, and he -sat and smoked in moody silence for a while. The day was warm, but the -sunshine of the early morning grew fainter, and by noon there were -signs of a thunder-shower, the clouds seeming to gather from all -directions; and the air became oppressively heavy. - -Richard finally threw away the end of his cigar, yawned a time or two -in an abstracted sort of fashion, then got up and walked over to the -window. He pulled aside the curtains and looked out at the threatening -sky. - -"Get your hat and let's go out for a little fresh air before it -rains," he suggested as he came back and threw himself into his chair -again, stretching out his long legs to the fire. - -I got up obediently and started toward the door, but he reached out, -caught my hand and stopped me. - -"Isn't it a devilish old day?" he said lazily, as he drew me down -toward him. "You haven't kissed me once since I came home. Don't you -love me any more?" - -"Love you? Of course I love you!" I answered, kissing him on the -forehead and smoothing back his fair hair. I had entirely forgotten -the traitorous thoughts of the early morning. "But you have been in -_such_ a mood! Who wants to kiss something that looks about as -lover-like as Rameses II?" - -He smiled a little and took my face between his hands. - -"I _am_ a savage," he admitted, though not at all bearing the -appearance of one at that moment; "but I've had a lot to try me -lately--and then I was so disgusted when I came home and found that -mother had let Evelyn dance herself into another of these attacks." - -"Oh, Richard! Surely you don't really think it was the dance that -brought it on? It might have been the dinner--but I shouldn't even -suggest that to your mother. She is miserable enough already. You -ought to try to comfort her." - -"That's very charitable of you," he said, a sarcastic little flicker -around the corners of his mouth, "but, all the same, I find that I can -manage my womenkind better to use a little frankness with them -occasionally." - -I drew back from him somewhat. - -"Frankness?" I cried in genuine surprise at his cold sarcasm. "Even if -frankness were the right name for--this, do you consider that now is -the time for it? When she is so wretched?" - -He turned from me and threw down the paper he had picked up a moment -before as I stood talking to him. - -"Let's don't quarrel," he said finally, in a low tone; and, -impulsively reaching out both hands to me, he added: "And, Ann, for -God's sake, don't ever act as if you were afraid of me!" - -"Afraid of you!" - -He smiled. I think he has the most adorable smile of any man on earth. - -"Go and get your hat," he said. - -As I came down-stairs again with my hat on I found Sophie standing at -the front door talking with Richard. She was dressed entirely in the -garb of a nurse by this time, and I looked admiringly at the becoming -white uniform, but Richard made no reference to the change nor -anything that it entailed. - -"Sophie thinks that we would better not go very far," he said to me -as he stepped outside into the vestibule and looked up again at the -clouds. "She says Evelyn is not resting so well--and mother, of -course, has entirely lost her grip." - -"Do you think that there is any new danger in Evelyn's case?" I asked -anxiously. - -"Well, we are eager for the surgeon to get here as quickly as -possible," she answered. - -"He'll be here on the noon train, and, of course, he can operate -immediately. And it hasn't been nearly twenty-four hours since the -onset of the acute attack. The mortality is less than one per cent, if -taken within--" - -I had been looking into Sophie's eyes as I spoke and had not observed -that Richard was listening intently to what I was saying, but as I -made use of this last bit of medical jargon a contemptuous little -half-laugh broke from him and I looked up quickly. He was smiling -sardonically. - -"Of course your friend, Doctor Morgan, is your authority," he said, -his brows elevated and a disagreeable expression around his mouth. - -"He is--and I couldn't ask a better," I flashed back at him. - -We stood thus a moment, our eyes meeting in fiery challenge, and in -that brief moment I realized that such a scene repeated a few times -would cause us to hate each other. I felt suddenly as if the earth -were receding from me and leaving me in a very uncertain stratum of -air. I was violently angry with Richard--and he was infuriated. - -"It's a pity the public continues to display such a lamentable -ignorance in regard to this wonderful Hippocrates of yours," he -sneered, though in an even voice. - -"That ignorance is growing less every day," I responded easily, so -easily, in fact, that I am sure Sophie never suspected that we were -both at white heat. - -But she was embarrassed at the bad taste we were both exhibiting, so -she made some excuse and quickly left us. We walked slowly down toward -the gate, not that there was any joy left in the prospect of a quiet -walk together, but because there seemed nothing better to do right -then. Out through the gate and quite a distance up the street we -passed before either of us spoke, and I noticed once that his right -hand, which clasped his slender silk umbrella, was trembling. - -"Ann," he said finally, speaking in a remarkably low, gentle voice, -"why does it seem to give you such pleasure to torture me that way?" - -"Torture you?" I answered. "Oh, Richard! Why should you torture -yourself into a passion if I but mention anything even remotely -connected with the medical profession?" - -"Medical profession!" His voice was still very quiet. "You would imply -then that I am--that I am jealous of this yearling doctor?" - -There was infinite contempt in the word "yearling." - -"I don't _imply_!" I responded warmly. "I have good, clear English for -what I wish to say." - -"You certainly have for all that you wish to say about this paragon of -yours." - -"He _is_ a paragon; but he isn't mine." - -"No? I wonder why? You certainly might have won him!" - -Was this a lovers' quarrel? I had always heard them spoken of as being -frivolous, make-believe disagreements, whose sting was light as -thistle-down and whose shadows were quick to disappear at the dawn of -a beloved smile. But if this were true, then my altercation with -Richard was a much more serious affair, for I found my patience -strained to the breaking point when I finally burst out: "Richard, -hush! This is disgraceful! I will not quarrel with you any longer. You -make me wish that I had never seen your face!" - -My vehemence seemed to startle him out of his own wrath, or, at all -events, it acted as a signal to him that he was to go no further, for -he began to retract; not humbly, not penitently, as if he had found -himself in the wrong, but with a sudden sparkling brilliance, his eyes -and his smile dazzling my senses as they did the sunny afternoon we -spent together, sitting on the orchard fence. - -"Well, I'm glad I have seen your face," he said fondly, as he looked -down upon me with that same air of possession, "for you are the -prettiest little spitfire I ever saw." - -He suggested that we walk up to the river side, not a great distance -away, but it is as secluded a spot as if it were miles away from human -habitation. There are thickets of undergrowth just beyond a skirt of -woods, and a stone wall where we might sit down for a quiet little -talk. - -We made for this spot in silence, and, as he placed a strong, lithe -hand on either side of my waist to lift me bodily up on the wall he -said, with that same directness of manner which I found characterized -his speech: "Ann, I beg your pardon--ten thousand times, sweetheart! -Will you forgive me--and--and kiss me?" - -His lips were already upon mine, and I knew then that there was -nothing in this life so beautiful and sweet and intoxicating as their -touch. I gave myself up to the exquisite madness with an abandon which -shuts out all knowledge that Richard and I are not comrades, not even -friends--that we have no ideals in common, no similar tastes! What -does all this matter when he has his arms about me and I am so close -to him that I can hear the quick thump, thump of his heart-beats, and -I know how they quicken for me! Nothing matters! I love him! - -"That's my own little girl," he said radiantly, as he lifted his face -from mine and saw my entire surrender. "This is the first moment -to-day that I have felt as if you really love me." - -He dusted off a space on the wall then sprang lightly up to a seat by -my side. - -"I've been waiting for you to brighten up a bit and look like -yourself," he continued after a few minutes of happy silence. "I have -something to show you." - -"Something to show me?" I looked at him wonderingly. - -"Something I brought you from--from the city." - -"But I told you not to bring me anything." - -"I know. But I had already bought it then, and I couldn't take it back -to the jeweler and tell him that my lady had turned it down, could I?" - -He drew a little case from his pocket, a long, slender one this time, -and as I found my eyes fixed with an eager fascination upon his hands -as they worked for a moment with the catch, I seemed to see stretching -before me a long vista of years, each one punctuated with quarrels -like the one we had just endured, and the rough places left by these -ruptures filled in and smoothed over by myriads of these small, dainty -jewel-boxes. But Richard's deft fingers had opened the case, and he -passed it over to me. I gave a little gasp of astonished delight as I -saw lying upon its bed of velvet a string of pearls--white, -softly-glistening, beautiful things. - -"Let's see how they look on you," he suggested, unfastening the dull -gold clasp and slipping the lovely chain around my neck. He fastened -them securely, then smiled approval as he leaned back and viewed the -effect. - -"I've wanted you to have something like this ever since I've known -you," he said with the air of a connoisseur as he still held back and -looked at the pearls lying close around the neck of my collarless -blouse. "So when I happened to see these the other day in--the city, I -decided that they were exactly what I wanted for my little girl." - -I was opening and shutting the box as he talked, and when he mentioned -seeing them in the city I idly glanced at the name on the lining, and -saw that the case bore the name of a well-known firm in St. Louis. - -"Why, Richard," I cried, "did you go all the way to St. Louis to find -them?" - -I laughed, but there were two tiny lines between his eyes. - -"Don't say anything about it to mother, but the truth is I did have to -go to St. Louis while I was away from home this time." - -"Your mother thinks you were down in some little country town--away -from a telephone!" - -"Well, it was a--business trip. She wouldn't be interested, and I -never have believed in a man boring his family with his business -affairs." - -"I shouldn't be bored, Richard," I began, hoping so fervently that he -was going to confide in me that half the joy I should have been -feeling over my beautiful new possession was turned into pain when I -saw that he was not. - -He changed the subject quietly and we discussed various minor matters, -until I remembered, with a start, that it was time for us to be going -home. It must be long past noon. I mentioned this to Richard and he -jumped down immediately. - -"I haven't heard the train whistle, have you?" - -"No, but we haven't been listening for it. Look at your watch." - -He did so, and we were both surprised and not a little ashamed when we -saw that it was half-past one. - -"We'll have to hurry," he said briefly, and we walked home faster, I -dare say, than ever lovers walked away from that delightful spot -before. - -When we reached the house we found that the doctor from the city had -indeed arrived; the preparations for the operation being well under -way. There was not to be an hour's delay, Sophie told us, as she -paused on her way up the steps. Her hands were full of glistening -instruments, and a negro servant followed with kettles of boiled -water. - -"What does Gordon think of her condition?" Richard asked, as he eyed -Sophie's burden with a little shrinking. - -"Doctor Gordon couldn't come," she answered abstractedly as she looked -around and gave the servant some directions about keeping a bountiful -supply of water that had been boiled, "there was a wreck on the road -that he is surgeon for--it didn't amount to much, but still he had to -be there, so he telephoned Doctor Cooley that this young colleague of -his whom he sent to do the operation is thoroughly competent--it seems -that they operate together a great deal. I didn't catch the young -doctor's name when he was introduced--and I've been too busy since to -ask." - -"Doctor Morgan," I said, feeling sure that Doctor Gordon would send no -one but Alfred on a case like this. - -"Doctor Morgan--the _devil_ it is!" Richard's voice burst out so -suddenly and so fiercely that I turned and looked at him in amazement. -Then, for the first time, I realized how easy it might be to be afraid -of him. Fierce and sudden as the words were, they were spoken in his -deep, even voice, and not a muscle of his face showed the intense fury -which I felt that he was laboring under. It was a cold, cruel anger, -and it showed only in his eyes. They were glittering like two -sharp-pointed steel blades. "Doctor Morgan here--and you knew all the -time that he was coming!" - -He looked at me so accusingly that Sophie sensed the point of the -situation at once, although she had never heard Alfred's name -mentioned before; and she broke in with a light laugh. - -"Why, he didn't know himself that he was coming until ten minutes -before train time. It was too late even to find a nurse to bring with -him, so I am going to help in the operation." - -Her words had the effect of quieting, in a measure, this insane -suspicion of Richard's; and he and I followed her up the broad -staircase. She led the way into the room which had been hastily -divested of its rich furnishings and transformed into a semblance of -an operating-room; and we two followed automatically. Sophie passed in -and began busying herself about the preparations, but just inside the -doorway we stopped. - -Standing in the middle of the floor, near the end of a long table upon -which had been placed several bowls of water, some clear, others light -blue, his top shirt off and his arms up to his elbows thickly coated -over with a soft lather, was Alfred. Another young fellow, whom I -afterward learned was a local physician, stood near the table; and he -too was busily "scrubbing up." As we came into the room Alfred bade -Sophie hurry up with her own preparations. - -"Would you object to hearing a word from me before your manipulations -go further?" Richard's voice broke in, after the briefest and most -perfunctory of greetings, which fortunately were divested of any -hypocritical handshaking on account of Alfred's green soapiness. "I -understand that our family physician, Doctor Cooley, telephoned to the -city for Doctor _Gordon_ to come down here and operate upon my -sister." - -"Doctor Gordon received the message, but was detained by a small wreck -on the Eastern," Alfred said quietly, rinsing the soap-suds from his -hands and motioning Sophie to drop another bichloride tablet into the -next bowl of water. "He sent me to do the work." - -"So I have been informed," Richard said, his eyes looking far colder -and more cutting than the steel instruments which Sophie was now -rattling about in a big pan, "but--as it happens--I don't want you to -do the work." - -The insult was so barefaced and so ugly that Sophie suddenly turned -scarlet and the young doctor bending over the bowl of water busied -himself unnecessarily with a bottle of green soap. Richard himself -began nervously tampering with his watch-fob, while I afterward -recalled that my fingers were playing convulsively with the pearls -which were still around my neck. It was an _electrical_ moment and we -all showed signs of weakening before the current--all except Alfred. - -He stood in the same spot at the end of the table, directing straight -at Richard his level, steady glance, and looking the personification -of simple dignity--in an undershirt. - -"That might put a different aspect upon the matter," he said slowly -after a moment's deliberation. Not a muscle of his face changed, and -no one less well acquainted with him than I am could have detected the -hardness in his voice. - -"_Might_ put a different aspect?" Richard looked incredulous. - -"Yes, it might--if the patient were a minor, and you her sole -guardian." - -"Ah! Then you mean to ignore my rights?" - -"I do--if you wish to put it that way. Your sister's condition is -critical; and there is no one else to operate." - -"Then there is no appeal to be made to your pride?" I do not know what -Richard meant, nor do I believe that he knew himself, for he surely -would not have run the risk of trying to get another surgeon when it -had been made so clear to him that the delay would be fatal. Alfred -seemed to realize that there was no more occasion for argument than if -he had been talking to an unreasonable child--or a dangerous lunatic. - -"No; my pride lies dormant in a case like this," he answered simply. -"I acknowledge only Duty." - -Then, at Alfred's words, it seemed that the magic change which I have -before noticed comes over Richard when he sees that he has gone far -enough, began to make itself felt. It appeared that he was not going -to have the courage to turn about and apologize, as he had done with -me earlier in the day; but he began to do what he considered all that -was ever necessary from _him_ to ordinary mortals. He began to back, -sullenly. - -"Of course, if it is only an ordinary case of appendicitis _you_ -might do," he admitted grudgingly, "but--suppose there are -complications?" - -I give Richard credit for not intending this worst insult of all. He -was so entirely absorbed in gaining his own end, and that end was -proving to Alfred that he was incompetent to operate, that he failed -to consider the words he used. To him this was only a simple argument -in favor of his theory. Alfred met the thrust as he had met the minor -ones. - -"If there are complications, I shall grapple with them," he answered -quietly. "That's what I studied surgery for." - -Sophie came across the room then and told us in a low voice that they -were about ready. Would we please wait outside? Without another word -Richard took me by the arm and we walked out together. He held my arm -tightly as we made our way cautiously down the steps; cautiously -because it had suddenly grown very dark and there were threatening -rumbles in the distance, following vivid flashes of lightning. The -fumes of the anesthetic were filling the house, while outside the big -drops of rain were beginning to pelt down, making little comet-shaped -streaks of wetness against the window-panes. - -We heard the shuffling steps as they moved Evelyn into the room and -placed her upon the table; then we heard Alfred call from the head of -the steps, his voice calm and unruffled as it would be in the case of -any gentleman making a request of another. - -"Mr. Chalmers, will you call the power-house and have them turn on the -lights?" - -Hours after, when it was all safely over and Sophie earnestly -supplemented the local doctor's praise of Alfred's skill and -technique, Richard sought me out as I stood alone in the dining-room -locking up the silver. I had seen Mrs. Chalmers do this and knew that -it was a habit of hers; and to-night there was no one else to do it. - -"Ann," he said, coming close and looking around to make sure that -there was no one else near, "Ann, I'm really sorry about what I said -to that fellow, Morgan, this afternoon. Of course I didn't intend any -aspersions upon his ability, but I suppose, according to their -infernal ethics, it was--discourteous." - -I picked up a soft flannel case and wrapped a handful of heavy forks -in it. "Yes, I dare say he considered it so," I agreed. - -"I've wondered what I can do to make amends," he continued. "Do you -think I might double the amount of his fee?" - -"No, no," I begged earnestly, a sudden sense of disgust at the thought -of such a thing. "No, don't try to offer Alfred _money_." - -Poor Richard! Was there nothing in the world he could do except -trample upon people's feelings then offer to pay them to get in a good -humor again? He had insulted Alfred, who was a hero, then suggested -offering him money to wipe out the stain. He had neglected and -offended me this miserable day--but he had given me a string of -pearls! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -THE IDES OF MARCH - - -"Love's second summer," was the name Mammy Lou bestowed on the -troubled period of my engagement with Richard Chalmers which followed -the portentous events chronicled in the last few chapters. - -"A love affair ain't no different from a baby," she would say to me -sometimes, as her quick eye saw that all was not going well, and her -maternal pity for me caused her to forgive the disappointment I had -given her in my choice of a lover. "It's bound to have some miz'ry as -well as joy mixed along with it. Why, you can't no more make true love -run smooth than you can play a 'juice harp' with false teeth." - -True love! Oh the irony of the words! So many months have passed since -the happenings that I last recorded that I can look back now and -dispassionately dissect even the motives of many things which -transpired during that gilded year. For it proved to be only a gilded -year, while I thought at the time that it was a golden one. And I can -see, among many other strange and bewildering things, that at the -moment I saw Alfred Morgan stand up and bravely defy Richard's selfish -tyranny, the scales seemed to fall from my eyes and I knew then which -was the false and which the true. That I did not act upon this -knowledge and follow the dictates of my intuition, I afterward -regretted more poignantly than it often befalls the lot of a girl to -rue a guiltless deed. - -On that November night when I stood in the dining-room and counted out -and stored away the Chalmers' family silver while Richard stood by and -suggested appeasing Alfred's outraged pride by a gift of money, I felt -an almost overpowering desire to fly precipitately away from the -great, gleaming house with its Midas-like master, who, as I remembered -for the first time with a shudder, was also _my_ master. - -The storm without, which had broken so violently at the hour of the -equally violent storm within, and between those two strong and -determined spirits, had spent its force during the afternoon, and -when the dreary night closed down there was a sharp wind from the -east, and the rain changed into a driving sleet. - -Out into this Alfred went, and I stood at the door with him as we said -good-by, until the piercing wind blew in and brought with it a little -shower of light sleet, which it scattered over the inlaid floor. - -"I'll be in the city for a day or two next week," I said as he held -out his hand and looked with a slight shiver out into the icy -blackness through which he must pass. "I'll see you then." - -For the moment I had forgotten that Alfred and I no longer saw each -other when I was in the city. I had failed to remember the fact, and -also the circumstances leading up to it. - -"But I'm leaving for New York Saturday night," he said briefly, as he -pulled a little closer the big storm collar of his heavy coat, and -slipped on his long automobile gauntlets. He had left the city so -hurriedly that he had not had time to exchange these for ordinary -gloves. "--And I sail on the following Wednesday." - -"Oh! So this is good-by then?" - -"Yes--for all time, I suppose. You'll be married long before I get -back." - -We were standing alone at the door which led out to the driveway and -there was a motor-car a few feet away puffing softly a warning to -hurry; Richard was somewhere near, in the front part of the house--but -I thought not of his anger if he should find me in such a plight; I -did not stop to remember that Alfred was in danger of missing his -train; above all I did not recall that only a few months before I had -had the chance of making a decision which, if differently made, would -have put such a different aspect upon the world's cold blackness this -miserable night--I remembered nothing, except that Alfred was going -away from me--and I had already seen my mistake. Giving way completely -as this mighty knowledge came bearing down upon the tired, aching -nerves of my brain, which had already been working at over-tension for -the past many days, I covered my face with my hands and gave vent to -the sobs and tears which seemed to have been gathering in my heart -since I had last seen Alfred. Now he was going away, and I was to see -him no more! - -"Ann," he begged, as he quickly stripped off the long gauntlets and -started to put out his hand, "_don't_! For God's sake don't cry! I've -stood a lot to-day, but I'll swear I can't stand that." - -"If you've stood a lot, don't you think that I have, too?" I demanded -in a low voice, the convulsive little catches in my throat making -speech difficult. I had lost all power of self-control for the moment, -and I think that if Richard had come out into the hall at that instant -and demanded an explanation I should have frankly given it. Many times -through the succeeding months I regretted bitterly that he had not. - -Alfred's hand started out toward me again at my passionate words, and -caught mine this time, dragging them gently down from my face as he -compelled my eyes to meet his. - -"What do you mean?" he demanded. "Is he unkind to _you_, too?" - -"Oh, no, not unkind," I stammered, half frightened at the sudden turn -of our conversation. "Certainly not unkind. He is the soul of -generosity--but we don't--get along well--together." I broke down -weakly in my speech, for the sense of disloyalty was strong upon me, -and I felt that it was almost as grave a crime to recount the faults -of a lover as those of a husband. - -But Alfred's face was very serious, and if my perfidy made any impress -upon him it was lost in the mazes of a greater problem. - -"That is what I've been afraid of," he said in almost the same tones -he had used when he made a similar remark upon my telling him I cared -for Richard. "I thought you would find that your natures -are--incompatible." - -"Incompatible? Oh, Alfred, if we marry we'll _fight_!" I sobbed, -burying my face in my hands again, and forgetting the _lover_ Alfred -in the dear friend whom I could always go to with a trouble. And I -would be willing to stake anything in life that, in that moment, he, -too, had forgotten that he was my lover. - -"Well, that is a very serious question, and one which you will have -thoroughly to thresh out before it is too late," he said, his bright -brown eyes anxious and troubled. He looked down upon me with infinite -sympathy. - -"And you are going away so soon--and for so long?" - -"Well, if I were not going away I could no longer be a--a friend to -you, Ann; for I am not capable of giving you unbiased advice, and that -is what you need. It would be a great temptation to make capital for -myself out of your troubles with--him; and I can't lower myself this -way. So don't grieve over my going away, and--take council with your -mother and Mrs. Clayborne. I am not the one to advise you in this -case." - -So he went out into the blackness! - - * * * * * - -From New York, the day he sailed, he wrote me a note saying that he -could not leave without telling me some things which he could not -honorably speak of while we were in Richard Chalmers' house that -night; and those things were that his own feeling for me would never -change; if years passed before I ever felt that I needed him I was to -send for him just as confidently as I would to-day. No matter what -decision I came to in regard to my marriage with Richard Chalmers he -would never approach me again in the light of a lover until I sent for -him, the note ran on; and, as I read this last I looked up and smiled -into vacancy over the thought of how proud and high-minded he is. He -gave me the address of a London hospital and said that if I cared to -write to him at any time within the next few weeks the letter would -reach him there. - -But I did not write to him within the next few weeks. - -On the morning after Alfred's departure from Charlotteville I came -down-stairs early and found Richard in the breakfast-room. He was -smiling radiantly as he looked up and saw me; then he threw aside his -morning paper and pulled up a chair close to the fire. - -"Evelyn is doing splendidly; the political news is to my liking; there -are fresh trout for breakfast, and--here's a rose for your hair, my -lady-love," he said, holding out to me a perfect bud of pearly -whiteness. A box of them had come on the early train from a friend of -Evelyn's in the city, and Richard had purloined the most beautiful one -for me. - -The ground outside was white and there was the sharp little sound of -sleet against the window-pane, but the breakfast-room was a scene of -glowing cheer. A Japanese tea-service was on the table, and the trout, -which Richard had been fortunate enough to secure from a passing -fisherman that morning, was broiled to a most delicious brown and -seemed to be enjoying its repose upon its bed of water-cress. A -steaming pot of hot water was presently brought in and placed beside -my plate, and the tea-ball was brought to me. I was to make the tea -and Richard and I were to breakfast together. - -"This strikes me as being a happy arrangement," he said, smiling what -I had often called his "twenty-one-year-old smile," for when he wore -it it was difficult for me to believe that he was as far advanced in -the thirties as I knew him to be. "This looks quite married and -home-like, doesn't it--Mrs. Chalmers?" - -Richard seldom jested about our marriage, and he never, but this one -time, made reference to the name which would be mine when we married. -Such a jest on the morning before, when he had just come in from his -trip and was the personification of gentlemanly grouch, would have -made all the world radiant to me; but, as it was, I blushed painfully -as he spoke the name--and he took the blush at its face value. - -"Ah, madam, I see that the thought pleases you!" he kept on -banteringly as my hand trembled a little over the tea-ball. "Perhaps -this is my opportunity for pressing my suit--isn't that what they call -it in novels? It smacks too much of the tailor shop to suit my taste, -however.--But honestly, Ann, I do want us to make arrangements for our -marriage the first minute this nomination business is over. What do -you say, dear heart?" - -Again, if the question had been asked yesterday morning it would have -made a startlingly different impression, but, as it was this morning, -I parried. - -"I say that we are two very selfish and thoughtless young people to be -talking about such things while Evelyn is lying up-stairs so ill--and -your mother in such distress, Richard," I answered. - -"Well, we'll not say another word about it, if it troubles you, -sweetheart," he said gently. Then after a moment he added: "I never -expect to do anything to hurt you, even a little bit, again." - -"You mean--?" - -"I mean as I did yesterday--about Morgan, you know. Did you notice how -I stayed clear away last night while you went to the door with him? -But," resuming his tone of persiflage, "you were there an unreasonable -time, it seems to me. Now, tell your rightful lord what you two -cronies were talking about." - -"About his trip," I said quickly, spilling a little tea upon the cloth -and vigorously mopping it up with my napkin. "He's going to Europe -next week." - -"Well, he's a pretty decent chap, although he does look deucedly young -to be cutting into people--don't you think so?" he asked, not that he -really did think so, for Alfred is quite old-looking for his years, -but he thought it would place him in a better light--the way he acted -yesterday. - -"Oh, you'd like a bearded old surgeon who learned so much technique -before the war that he hasn't needed to learn any since," I answered, -and the breakfast-hour passed away with this kind of light, bantering -talk. - -From that day Richard set about being the most agreeable companion -when we were together, and the most devoted lover when we were -separated that it has ever been my lot to meet in fact or fiction. I -left Charlotteville the next day and he followed me up to the city on -the fourth day thereafter, as soon as the doctors pronounced Evelyn -out of danger. I had not intended stopping over in the city any length -of time, but I found Cousin Eunice in a state of despair over the -progress, or lack of progress, of her new book. - -"Do stay," she begged, as I announced this intention to her, "at least -until I get through with the proposal. It's as hard to get your hero -to propose nicely as it is to get the gathers of a sleeve to set -right. There's always either too much or too little in a given spot. -And it's so provoking, when I'm right in the midst of such a delicate -situation, to have Pearl call out to me from the foot of the steps: -'Mrs. Clayborne, here's a jepman at the do' want's to know if your -husban's a householder and a freeholder.' - -"'Tell him yes, and a _slave-holder_,' I yell back at her; for any -woman who really keeps house _is_ a slave." - -"What do 'jepmen' want to ask such fool questions for?" I asked -wonderingly. - -"To avoid election frauds. You see there is so much deviltry right now -in politics that the law-enforcement faction is sending men around all -over the city to find out every voter, and if he has the right to -vote." - -"Well, what good does it all do?" - -"None; but it gives the poor, overworked housewives one more trip to -the front door, in the course of the day.--Then there are agents -selling non-rustible wired bust-forms. Pearl never knows what to say -to them, either." - -"Mercy, what should one say?" I demanded, thinking all of a sudden -that maybe my task was going to be too large for me. - -"Say anything that comes to your mind, just so it's unfit for -publication--nothing milder will do for them," she answered bitterly. - -"And Waterloo doesn't give you any trouble while you're trying to -work, does he?" I inquired. - -"Happily no, for Grapefruit is his consolation and his joy. Never were -there such ways of a nursemaid with a man child. Never has anybody -invented such tales and games--" - -"And spitting contests," I interpolated. - -"It's true she taught him that ugly habit," she responded with some -dignity, "but all boys learn it sooner or later." - -So I stayed and the book grew like a soap-bubble the first week. Then -Pearl's brother got into that condition which is always described by -our colored servants with much gusto and rolling of white eyeballs as -"'bout ter die," and, whether he ever dies or not, is a matter that -the housekeeper knows nothing of. But the servant always leaves, and -she did in this case; and upon the Sunday morning thereafter the gas -stove in the Clayborne home looked as if gangrene had set in on it. I -had magnanimously insisted on doing the cooking; and I didn't know -before that a gas stove had to be washed as often as a new-born baby. - -Cousin Eunice came out of her cataleptic state on Sunday morning, for -she is ashamed to write on the type-writer that day for fear Waterloo -will tell it at Sunday-school--and she showed me how to dispose of the -week-old egg-shells and concentrated soup cans which had accumulated -amazingly around the fenders of the range. - -"Oh, I think a literary ambition is an evil thing sometimes," she said -with a deep sigh, looking around at the house, which she declared was -enough to give us all bubonic plague. - -"It is--er, disheartening to have you shut up all the week in the -little back room up-stairs," Rufe admitted, fishing one of his best -gloves out from behind the coal-box. "When you're locked away up there -the house looks as empty as a hotel bureau-drawer--and that's the -emptiest thing on earth." - -"I know it," she answered, looking at him sympathetically. "--Besides, -it's wearing to have a book for ever in your mind. Inspiration is so -uncertain--and so urgent. I've had it strike me while I was washing my -hair; and it's far from pleasant to have to dash the soap out of your -eyes while you search all over the house for your note-book and -pencil--and the water drips down all over the furniture." - -"It must be," Rufe agreed. - -"And here lately I've grown so absent-minded that when I go down-town -for a little shopping I have to dress with my memorandum in my mouth -to keep from going off and forgetting it." - -But on Monday morning genius was burning again, and I stayed through -that week, but only in the capacity of a protection against -interruptions. We got another cook, for Pearl's brother, like Charles -II., was "an unconscionable time a-dying." Richard came every day and -every night and was so attentive to the whole family that Rufe rather -sarcastically asked one day: "Ann, is Chalmers courting you or me?" - -Rufe's words meant little to me then, but later they kept recurring to -my mind with a persistency that would make Banquo's ghost appear like -a tame and laggard thing. Was Richard hoping to gain, through his -friendship with me, the support of the _Times_? He knew that if Rufe's -personal influence could not bring about an actual support of him in -the coming campaign it would be a factor in having the paper judge his -manipulations with a lenient eye. - -And now this finally brings me up to that miserable day the following -spring, the Ides of March, it was, when the skies fell; and they never -fell upon a more wretched, more humiliated, more bitterly disciplined -young woman. - -As I have said, Richard had made an ideal fiance throughout the time -which followed that miserable parting with Alfred, and I had occasion -many times to wonder if, after all, I might not have been mistaken -about the incompatibility of our natures. Besides, the fascination of -the handsome, physical Richard Chalmers was still there; perhaps it -was never so strongly and bitterly there as on the fifteenth of March -that I have just mentioned. - -As the winter wore away, Richard's visits down home here, in the -country, had been much further apart, especially since the time for -the actual political fight drew nearer; and, from this fact and from -the newspapers' more volcanic outbursts, I knew that a gubernatorial -contest was about to take place. - -But I should never have known it from the man who was most concerned -in the race, for, during all this time, Richard never confided one -hope nor fear of his to me; and I see now that it was not because he -"didn't want to bother my pretty little head about such things," as -he occasionally stated, with a fond smile, but because he judged me to -be exactly of the same intellectual stripe as his mother and Evelyn. -He thought that I would not have sense enough to understand the -situation. - -Richard had been out of town a good deal lately on business trips, and -the meeting that morning in March, at Rufe's office, was in the nature -of an accident. Richard had not known that I was in the city for a -day's shopping, so when we accidentally ran across each other on the -street, the _Times_ building was the nearest place we might drop into -for a little talk. - -"Well, you are taking your campaign hard," I said, as I looked at him -critically after Rufe had assured us that we might have the whole -morning without interruption, in his own particular little den, as he -was going to be out in town. Then Richard had asked him to give orders -that we were not to be interrupted, as he particularly wished for a -little talk with me. - -"Ann, I've had enough to run any man crazy since I saw you last, -dear," he said wearily, in answer to my comment on his looks. He -dropped down into the nearest chair and put up one hand to shade his -eyes from the brilliant morning glare. "This political business is the -most infernal--" - -"What, Richard?" - -He was looking steadily into my eyes, but at my question he looked -away; then after a moment moved his chair over closer and caught up my -left hand. - -"I'm in a devil of a mess, love," he said after a little inward -struggle--then with that charming directness of his he ventured--"I -want you to promise to help me out." - -"Of course I will," I readily agreed. - -"Oh, that's not the kind of promise I want," he instantly objected. -"Say it solemnly. Say, 'I'll promise to stick to you.'" - -"Why, Richard, you make me fear that something is seriously wrong," I -cried in sudden alarm, for my sense of oneness with him had grown so -amazingly since those months between the time of my visit to -Charlotteville and then, and I felt as entirely identified with his -interests as if we were already married. His attitude toward me at the -breakfast-table the morning after Alfred's departure was a key-note to -the manner in which he strove every day after that to cement this -relation; and I know now that this was an immense factor in causing -me to allow the engagement to exist through those days of doubt. I had -always felt that an engagement was very nearly as binding as a -marriage--and Richard had always exercised such a charming right of -possession. - -"Something is seriously wrong, Ann," he said gravely, and his eyes -held mine in a sort of fascinated wonder; "and I expect you to stand -by me." - -His manner was very grave; and he seemed to be in a serious doubt as -to whether or not I would stand by him. - -"Tell me about it," I suggested as patiently as I could, for I was -trembling with uneasy eagerness. - -"Give me your hand and swear that you will stick to me." - -"Oh, sweetheart, I'll stick to you if you're a horse-thief," I said, -trying to force a laugh. - -"Then listen! You know that I want to be governor of this state--" - -I nodded my head. - -"--And the temperance party is about to go back on me because they -think that Major Blake and I are going to form a separate faction and -leave out the liquor question." - -"Yes, I know." - -"Well, that is just what we are going to do--to save the state from -the Republicans." - -"Well?" - -"And Blake is going to work up the campaign _for me_--on the -condition--" - -My blood was pounding like fire through my veins, but I felt -absolutely unable to move. I knew what he was going to say and my -heart was pleading for mercy, but my lips were mute. They could not -even move enough to say, "I know it all. Don't say the hideous words." -Richard had grown painfully embarrassed, and he stammered awkwardly: - -"--on the condition that I become his son-in-law." - -Just what happened after this I do not know. I might sit here all -night trying to recall his explanations and protestations, but I shall -get through with it all as speedily as possible, for all I really -remember about that terrible day is that I felt dreadfully ill--and -_benumbed_. I listened in a sort of trance to his recital of how -Berenice Blake had labored under an hallucination for some time that -he cared for her; and she had learned to return the fancied affection; -how very ill she was, so ill that when she came home for Thanksgiving -it was found that she would have to go right back to Denver-- - -"And you went as far as St. Louis with them--and brought me a string -of pearls," I said in a dazed fashion. - -"Yes, I always think of you first--no matter where I am," he answered, -looking at me fondly. "And our love-affair will not even be suspended -for very long," he went on. "She can't possibly live six months; and -her father wants, above everything on earth, that she shall be happy -for the little while that she has to live." - -"By marrying you." - -"By being engaged to me. I would _not_ marry her--there is no -necessity for that." - -"And you are asking me to release you?" - -"I am _not_," he said very firmly. "I am asking you to give me--a -leave of absence." - -Some unknown power seemed to put the words into my mouth, for I was -not conscious of any effort toward thinking. - -"But I release you, Richard. I could not be--mixed up in that kind of -thing." - -He sprang from his chair and caught me violently in his arms. - -"That's just what you're not going to do. You are _mine_. You are -going to stick to me." - -"I said that I would stick to you if you were a horse-thief," I said -slowly. "--But not--_this_." - -"Oh, Ann, you are breaking my heart," he cried, as he caught me close -to him and buried his head on my shoulder. "You can't mean to throw me -over." - -"You are kind to put it that way, Richard," I said. - -"You are a sensible girl," he exclaimed suddenly as he raised his head -and looked at me again. "You must listen to reason and do exactly as I -tell you in this matter. Then all will be well. The affair will be -nothing more than a make-believe between us all, for Major Blake knows -that I do not love the poor, homely, half-dead creature; the betrothal -will have no more feeling in it than a stage kiss. The only deception -you will have to practise will be to announce your own engagement to -some one else this week, so that--" - -"This week? My own engagement? Richard, what do you mean?" - -"I mean just this, my poor little girl," he began, his deep gray eyes -full of tears, and his hands, as they held mine, trembling piteously, -"--that if the story gets noised abroad that I--I hate even to -suggest such a thing, Ann, it is so far from truth, darling--but if -the story gets noised abroad that I jilted you it will harm my -prospects, as well as being a humiliation to you." - -"Oh, I see." - -"So I thought you might announce your engagement to some one else--of -course, just for a pose, but--" - -"But there isn't any one else." - -His eyes glanced into mine for a moment, then sought the floor. - -"I've thought of all that," he said easily. "But you know that Alfred -Morgan would--would--" - -"Would let me use his name?" - -"Oh, Ann, don't look so queer and unnatural, dear; you frighten me! -You're not going to faint, nor--anything, are you?" he began, looking -around helplessly. - -"I'm not going to faint," I assured him with a little smile that was -forced up from somewhere in the depths of my misery. "But I'm not -going to use Alfred's--nor any other man's name in the way you -suggest." - -"It is only to save yourself humiliation, dear," he said, looking -annoyed and relieved at the same time. - -"Oh, I'll take the humiliation for my part," I said but with no -evidence of anger nor reproach. I was still stunned and benumbed. "I -can stand the humiliation--but I hate a liar." - - * * * * * - -So it ended this way--that beautiful dream of mine; and I should not -tell the truth if I pretended that I did not wish many times in the -bitter weeks which followed to close my eyes to the cruel reality and -dream again, even knowing all the while that it was a dream. - -No, there was no sense of thankful relief that I had found my knight -of the lion heart to be a poor-spirited, craven, selfish thing. Not -then! At the time of the revelation and for many days following I gave -myself up to a bitter, longing sorrow for the man whom I had created -out of my own fancy and had named King Richard. I had made the image -as entirely as ever Pygmalion made Galatea, and I had worshipped it. I -had loved it so that if its coming to life could have been brought -about through my giving up my own I should gladly have let it live. -But it would not come to life, for it was nothing--it was a -dream-creature. Even as such, its image continued with me, and I -sorrowed for it with such an aching, lonely hopelessness that more -times than once during the spring months of that year I felt that it -was not within my nature to keep up the struggle any longer. I must -give it up and send for Richard to come back. - -The pale blue of the flowers which came up and blossomed in thousands -along the hillsides of the "garden" back of the village, and the deep -blue of the April skies were both turned to gray this spring--the -cold, piercing gray of his eyes. They had not been cold for me! - -And then a little later there was the "humiliation" he had mentioned. -Possibly he did what he could to make this as light as it might be -made, for his engagement to Major Blake's daughter was not publicly -announced until several weeks after I felt sure the understanding had -been reached. But he could not ask her to keep the betrothal a secret, -as he had asked me, for his capital must be quickly and surely made -from its brief existence. - -Taking a new lease on life from this sudden and mighty happiness of -hers, the poor, dying creature came home from Colorado and set about a -feverish enjoyment of the brief span of time which was left her. -There were crowded arrangements made for the wedding, which was -announced for June--after the primaries were well over--and she had -the satisfaction of having her full-length picture appear in all the -prominent newspapers of the state, all bearing the legend that she was -Mr. Richard Chalmers' fiancee. The sight of these pictures, homely as -they were, was no consolation to me, for I had never been jealous of -her. And now I felt an infinite pity. - -I used often to think with a laugh of scorn of the man I had imagined -Richard Chalmers to be, making love to the poor, ugly, emaciated -thing, in hopes of gaining her father's political favor! For of course -he had made love to her all along, just as he had to me, in the same -beautiful language, and with the same beautiful smile--but he had not -kissed her. I could fancy him telling her of his great admiration and -his mighty respect, and how unworthy he was to touch the hem of her -garment--when all the while he was thinking how ugly she was and what -a risk there might be of his catching tuberculosis! - -Poor girl! She was happy, though, for her little while, tagging around -the country with her father and Richard, and watching him adoringly as -he made his pretty speeches to the enthusiastic crowds of -constituents. But she played the game too quick and fast, and with -such a studied disregard for consequences that it was no wonder the -end came so soon. She spent the most uncertain, changeable weeks of -the time which is ever an ominous one for consumptives in driving -through long stretches of damp country roads, then sitting for hours -in stuffy, ill-ventilated little assembly rooms, where the foul air -did its deadly work for her. She contracted pneumonia and died; and -Mr. Chalmers canceled all speaking dates for one week! - -But she died still thinking her Richard was a lion-hearted king, so -who can say that Fate was not kind to her? - -That there was an aftermath to my own affair with Richard was almost -inevitable, for only in books do such bubbles burst and vanish -entirely, leaving nothing in their wake. But this is the true record -of what happened that spring and summer, and undignified and -inartistic enough these happenings ofttimes were. If Fate had wished -to bring the matter to a beautiful and aesthetic close she would never -let Richard and me meet again in this world, for oh, those -after-meetings are bitter dregs of romance! But we met again--on the -night of his defeat, a strange chance meeting it was, for he was -standing at the door of his headquarters hotel, which is just across -the street from the _Times_ building, trying to make way for his -mother and Evelyn, when I passed with the Claybornes. Evelyn saw me -and called out a surprised greeting, so I was forced to stop for a -moment, while Rufe and Cousin Eunice, never missing me, continued -threading their way slowly across the street. - -Richard stood very pale and weary looking, with his hat in his hand, -while I spoke to Mrs. Chalmers and Evelyn; then seeing that I had been -left alone he gravely suggested that I could never make my way through -the crowd by myself, so he sent his mother and sister up-stairs and -constituted himself my temporary knight errant. His hand, which -tightly clutched my arm, as we struggled on, was icy cold; and the -lines around his eyes made him look decidedly middle-aged. Clearly he -had already realized his defeat, although the returns were only -beginning to be flashed before the eyes of the cheering throng. - -He walked with me to the elevator of the _Times_ building, and the -great mirror in the back of the car held our two images a moment as he -lifted his hat and turned to leave me. The reflection held a wholesome -lesson as I gazed for an instant upon the features of the handsome, -blase, middle-aged man, then glanced at myself in my short-sleeved -white gown, with my rounded elbows showing youthfully. Yes, I was -undeniably _young_; and I felt, even in the midst of my sorrow for -him, a little thrill of satisfaction that it was so. - -It was a week or two after his defeat that Richard began a renewal of -his lover-like attitude toward me, calling me on the telephone and -asking permission to come, and again bombarding the express office -with boxes of candy and flowers. When I gave abnormally polite -refusals to these requests he would usually acquiesce with his half -amused smile, which I could see just as plainly as if only a few feet -lay between us, instead of many miles. - -"You are a stubborn little vixen," he would say sometimes. "How long -do you expect to keep this up?" - -And if he had studied the matter over carefully and tried to hit on a -means of curing me of my fancy for him he could never have found -anything more effectual than this. Then one day in the early autumn -when all the world was dreary and the state was so evidently going -Republican that no doubt he had cause for his odd temper, Richard -called me again and asked that a meeting might be arranged, either at -home or in the city. I began giving my usual reasons for not seeing -him, when he cut me short with quick impatience. - -"Oh, that's all right, if you don't want to see me," he said harshly, -his rich drawl entirely obliterated in the sudden anger which tinted -his speech. "And I'll promise never to give you the chance again of -turning me down. But, my dear Ann, you must remember there was a time -when I didn't have to _beg_ you for every little favor I got." - -"There was a time!" Ungenerous, despicable as this was, coming from -Richard, I took it with a sort of calmness born of the knowledge that -it was only what I deserved. For I don't believe that a woman ever -acts a fool over a man but that she lives to have the unwholesome fact -cast up to her while she is drinking the dregs of her folly. "There -was a time," the man is always ready to remind her, ofttimes hoping -to use this memory as a lever to remove the aftergrowth of -indifference or positive hatred. - -In this case the words caused me to feel something very nearly akin to -hatred for Richard, and I quickly ran away up-stairs, where I threw -myself across my bed and gave way to the storm of tears which had been -brought on by the angry selfishness of his act. But tears, while they -are bitter and scalding, are also _cleansing_, and they acted that day -as a purifying flood which washed my soul clean from all thoughts of -Richard Chalmers. When, late in the afternoon of that rainy day, I -arose from my bed I was weak from weeping, and unutterably saddened -over this final, ugly blow which Reality had dealt the fragments of my -house which was built upon the sands; but, weak and sad and -world-wise, as I felt myself to be, there was a great joy singing in -my heart, for I knew, for the first time, I _knew_ that I was free. - -The next day I wrote a letter to Jean asking her to get me several -boxes of the latest style gold-edged note paper with my monogram -embossed thereon, and insisted that she have the stationer hurry the -order through. "I want the very newest and most exquisite style you -can find," I wrote her, "for I am about to begin a most particular -correspondence and if you will take pity upon my loneliness enough to -run down any time within the next few weeks I'll tell you the name of -my distant correspondent. Yet, for fear you will not be able to get -here before your curiosity consumes you, I'll let you into the secret -enough to satisfy you that the gentleman is a 'medicine man' and he is -now wandering on a foreign strand. And if you should hear that I have -done such an unladylike thing as to _send_ for him, you will know in -your heart that it is not entirely on account of father's rheumatism -and Mammy Lou's still threatening right side. - -"But come, dear Jean, if you love me, for I am very lonesome, with -absolutely nobody but Neva and her mother to divert my mind." - -Poor little Neva! I must not wind up this chapter without some little -word about her, for there is going to be only one more chapter after -this, and there will be no room for Neva in that. This final word may -be written next week--it may not be written until a whole year has -passed, but whenever it is it will be the last, for I know that if -Mammy Lou's definition of the period is correct it will wind up the -age of Eve. - -But Neva! We left her a lovelorn lass grieving over the perfidies of -Hiram, the fickle. We find her again a college girl, breathing -academic atmosphere from the tassel of her mortar-board down to the -rubber heel of her "gym" shoes. She cares for nothing but school, and -the sororities therein. She knows all the places up in the city where -one is most likely to come across the college boys one desires most to -see; and the class of ices that take the longest time to consume while -one is sitting watching these boys pass by. She sometimes does not -know the name of a certain desirable young man, but she always knows -the name of his high-sounding Greek letter brotherhood. - -"She don't talk about nothing but 'frats' and 'spats' and things like -that," her mother one time complained after a brief visit from Neva. -"And she calls some of her mates by the curiousest names I ever heard. -There's one she likes a good deal that she says is a _new Phi Chi_; -and another one that she has to look to some because she's a '_old -Tau!_'" - -"The stage has to be passed through," mother said to Mrs. Sullivan -comfortingly, "for it's as certain and as harmless as chicken-pox." - -But Mammy Lou takes a much more serious view of Neva's collegiate -career and high-flown talk. - -"Education ain't no good for girls," she often declares emphatically, -"for it spoils their powers of emmanuel labor. You can just as shore -count on a educated girl makin' a lazy wife as you can count on damp -weather makin' a baby's hair curl an' a ol' woman's feet hurt!" - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -MAY DAY - - -"'For lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers -appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the -voice of the turtle is heard in our land.'" - -I quoted this bit of classic loveliness softly as I looked out this -morning very early from my bedroom window and feasted upon the scene -of sweet spring beauty which was everywhere spread before my eyes. Yet -the cause of the verse coming to my mind at the moment was due much -more to the feeling in my heart than to the scenery all about me, -although each seemed a reflection of the other. - -"How many years ago to-day was it that we looked down into the old -well in the lot and tried to see our future husband's face?" Jean -inquired with a wistful little smile as she came over to the window -and dropped her chin on my shoulder, peering out upon the fresh green -landscape. One of her arms slipped affectionately around me, while -with the other hand she toyed with the fresh white curtain at the -window. It was upon this hand that there gleamed the ring which -Guilford had at last persuaded her to let him place there. - -"More years than we are proud to own, considering that we are still -spinsters," I answered lightly and a little at random, for my thoughts -were wandering, though I am glad to state that they did not have such -a long journey to travel now as formerly. Each of my foreign letters -lately has borne a postmark a little nearer home. - -"I'm not going to be a spinster long, thank you," she responded -quickly, holding her left hand close to her face so that she could -catch some of the myriads of tiny rainbows in her eyes. "And I don't -any longer need to look down into an old well upon this magic day to -catch a glimpse of my future husband's face." - -"Still--let's do it again to-day!" - -"All right," she agreed readily, smiling at the enthusiasm of my eyes. -"I'm in for anything that will take us out into this glorious -sunshine." - -Throughout the course of the morning we managed to dig out from -ancient trunks of debris two white sunbonnets which Mammy Lou -graciously freshened for us, plying her "raw starch" and sound advice -with equal vigor during the task. We accepted the bonnets and -admonitions gratefully, and donning short skirts and low-collared -blouses we prepared for a tramp through the woods before the hour for -the phenomenon in the well. - -We had skirted around back of the orchard fence and had found an ideal -resting-place under a clump of softly green sweet-gum trees, where we -might sit in the delicate shade and read the magazines we had brought -with us, when there was the sharp, piercing whistle of the eleven -o'clock train as it sped close by our secluded little nook and drew up -pantingly a few moments afterward at the village station. - -"Doesn't that whistle sound _close_ on these clear, still mornings?" -Jean remarked with a little start, as she looked up from her magazine -and watched the column of smoke mount into the sunny, blue sky. - -"Close, and decidedly cheerful, I always think," I answered, allowing -my eyes also to wander after the smoke up into the dizzy heights. "You -city people can't realize what the coming of the trains mean to us who -are tucked away in the little country towns. Our first thought always -is, 'Is there a letter on that train for me?' Or, rather, that is my -first thought always. It's a pity we're dressed this way or we might -walk down to the post-office and see. The whistle sounded so unusually -musical this morning that there may be a very important one. The last -one I had was from Liverpool--there ought to be one very soon from New -York!" - -"But the old well!" Jean cried in sudden alarm, for she is a sadly -sentimental creature and would not have missed the little -superstitious performance this morning for several letters--bearing -_my_ name and address. "We are not going to give that up now." - -"Well, we would better be moving upon the field of operation then," I -suggested, closing my book and starting to my feet. "That train -wanders into the village at any hour which suits it best, so there's -no telling just what time of the beautiful May morning it is. Let's -hurry on down to the lot so that we shall be on the spot when the -first twelve o'clock whistle blows." - -We hurried back in the direction of home, taking a short cut which led -us through one end of the orchard and soon landed us beside the clump -of ancient lilac bushes which form a kind of hedge along the barbed -wire fence of the disused horse lot. In the center of this is the -well, the uncovered frame top of which affords an excellent -opportunity for this old-fashioned May-day indulgence. - -We rested a bit in the shade of the tall lilac hedge, but the noon-day -whistles soon sounded and we scampered over to the well and laughingly -peered in. There was nothing to be seen in its gloomy depths, but the -day was so beautiful and we were so absurdly lighthearted over the -divine order of all things in nature that we refrained from making any -sarcastic remarks on our grown-up sophistication. - -"I don't see Guilford's face down there, but I'm glad we came out to -look for it; for the walk has made me ravenously hungry," Jean said, -as we straightened up and pushed our white bonnets back from over our -eyes. - -"Then let's hurry on to the house, for I am starving, too--and I know -that there are delicious things for dinner. Mammy Lou made me promise -to get back in time to make the salad. There are tomatoes for it and -the loveliest young lettuce you ever saw, with tiny, slender -onions--not a bit bigger than my little finger. I can't bear them when -they grow bigger--" - -"Ann, hush! Let's don't waste time talking." - -We hurried up through the side yard, and as we approached the house -there were signs of an unwonted stirring in the vicinity of the -dining-room and kitchen. My spirits fell at the sight and I -intentionally slackened my steps. - -"Unexpected company to dinner," I announced dismally to Jean, as I saw -mother flutter excitedly across the back porch, followed by Dilsey -bearing a big bowl of strawberries to set in the refrigerator. Just -then mother caught sight of us coming leisurely up the walk and she -made a spasmodic motion for us to hurry. - -"Go on up-stairs and dress," she said in a stagy voice when we had -come within earshot. "Dress _beautifully_." - -"Why, what on earth--" I started to ask, when I saw the transfigured -face of Mammy Lou at the kitchen door. "Some august company to -dinner?" - -"'Tain't dinner! It's luncheon," she replied grandly, "in _courses_. -And the chil'ren o' Israel lookin' into Canaan and seein' the bunch o' -grapes that it took two men to carry ain't saw nothin' compared with -what I've saw this day." - -"Good gracious! Who _is_ here?" I demanded, much more impressed by her -calling the meal "luncheon" than by the weightiness of her Biblical -allusion. - -"Is there but _one_ man on earth I'd turn the name o' my vittles -up-side-down'ards for?" she questioned meaningly, gazing upon me with -a beatific glow. "--And he's the grandest that the Lord ever made and -put on earth to be pestered with poll-taxes." - -"_Alfred!_" I cried, a sudden burst of understanding and joy sweeping -over me; and leaving me very weak-feeling and happy. "Alfred is -coming!" - -"Not coming, but already here," I heard his voice saying close behind -me. His voice! It seemed a thousand years since I heard it last; and I -knew in that moment that I could listen to it for a thousand years -without ever once growing tired.--But as I turned and faced the big, -bearded man coming through the hall doorway, the quick color flew to -my face and I felt suddenly very small and insignificant. For it -seemed in that instant that Alfred had grown into a giant, a great, -bearded giant, over seas--and I have always had such an admiration for -giants. - -"Well, have I stayed away long enough?" he demanded, as he came on the -porch and took my hand. Mother and Jean had fled, but Mammy Lou -steadfastly held her ground. "Are you glad to see me, Ann?" - -"Yes--yes," I stammered in a mighty confusion. - -"How glad? How glad, _darling_?" His brown eyes were deep and -grave.--But the afternoon wore away and the spring twilight had fallen -before I answered that question. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE AGE OF EVE*** - - -******* This file should be named 40316.txt or 40316.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/0/3/1/40316 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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