Add files from ibiblio as of 2025-03-08 19:04:22HEADmain

1 files changed, 7248 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/40899-0.txt b/40899-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c21696f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/40899-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,7248 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40899 ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration: _Barbara Wallace_
+
+From a painting by A. O. Scott]
+
+
+
+
+
+The Morning Glory Club
+
+By George A. Kyle
+
+With a frontispiece in colours
+
+By Arthur O. Scott
+
+[Illustration]
+
+    Boston * L.C. Page and
+    Company * MDCCCCVII
+
+
+
+
+    _Copyright, 1907_
+
+    BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
+
+    (INCORPORATED)
+
+    _All rights reserved_
+
+    Entered at Stationers' Hall, London
+
+
+
+
+    _First impression, February, 1907_
+
+
+
+
+    _COLONIAL PRESS_
+    _Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
+    Boston, U. S. A._
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+    CHAPTER                           PAGE
+        I. THE WHEELS BEGIN TO MOVE      1
+       II. A MAN AND A WOMAN            33
+      III. A MALE GOSSIP                43
+       IV. THE "GLORIES" MEET AGAIN     50
+        V. THE STOUTS AT HOME           60
+       VI. BARBARA AND WILL             70
+      VII. CLASSICS AND WOMEN           75
+     VIII. A WOMAN'S WAY                87
+       IX. MEN TALK TOO                 92
+        X. A REHEARSAL                 103
+       XI. THE NARROW WAY              116
+      XII. GIRL TALK                   124
+     XIII. JINGLE BELLS                129
+      XIV. MORE TALK                   134
+       XV. TWO LETTERS                 144
+      XVI. ADVERTISING                 148
+     XVII. MORE ADVERTISING            157
+    XVIII. THE "BIG SHOW"              164
+      XIX. THE DAY AFTER               171
+       XX. A SERMON                    186
+      XXI. AN ANGEL OF MERCY           201
+     XXII. MANY MINDS CHANGE           212
+    XXIII. COALS OF FIRE               224
+     XXIV. A WEDDING AND A SERMON      235
+      XXV. GOOD CHEER--GOOD WILL       244
+
+
+
+
+The Morning Glory Club
+
+
+
+
+Chapter I
+
+The Wheels Begin to Move
+
+
+"EZRA, this is a morning long to be remembered," said Mrs. Tweedie, as
+she looked up from the undulating top of a huge cake which, with the
+skill of a professional plasterer, she was bedaubing with a dark brown
+paste.
+
+"I hope so, my dear," her husband replied, smilingly, as he put his
+paper aside.
+
+"Sometime this house may bear a tablet of bronze," continued Mrs.
+Tweedie, "on which, in effect, will be graven that here was founded by
+the women of Manville an organization that startled the community."
+
+"My only regret is that I shall not be here to see it--I mean the
+tablet, of course," said Ezra.
+
+"We shall prove," Mrs. Tweedie went on with her eyes fixed dreamily on a
+distant corner of the kitchen, "we shall prove that the accusation which
+you made in anger one week ago to-night, that 'women are the cause of
+all of the trouble in the world,' is false! False as the affection of
+men!"
+
+Ezra's smile faded to a look that suggested a complication of
+homesickness and _mal de mer_. The incident to which Mrs. Tweedie
+referred was not their first quarrel. The first had taken place years
+before, and ever since Ezra had been different.
+
+"My dear," he replied, weakly, attempting not to let his feelings show
+in his voice, "you always accomplish whatever you attempt."
+
+"And why, Ezra, why do I succeed?" (Mrs. Tweedie was given to boasting
+when alone with her little, ladylike husband.) "Because," she continued,
+replying to her own question, "I possess and use that rare virtue called
+tact."
+
+"True, my dear, very true," Ezra acknowledged, meekly. "I have known
+always that you had enough for two." He might have added truthfully
+that, had it not been for her remarkable tact, and the fact that one of
+her relatives had indiscreetly died intestate during their courtship, he
+would not have married her.
+
+The income which "dear cousin John's" carelessness and the statutes gave
+them was small; only Mrs. Tweedie's tact made it possible for her
+family of four to exist in the sham style which they affected. Despite
+her tact, their credit was constantly stretched and perilously near to
+the C.O.D. point; in fact, the feelings of all the tradesmen of Manville
+were correctly described when the milkman vowed that the Tweedies would
+be supplied from the bottom of the can until they had settled for the
+top. Considered from every point of view the Tweedies were strange
+people.
+
+The idea of a club for women was not new to the world, but to the New
+England town of Manville it was as new as the newest baby. The germ had
+taken up its abode in Mrs. Tweedie's head a week before, and since its
+arrival had buzzed so furiously that she was conscious of nothing else.
+
+Two hours after her conversation with Ezra, Mrs. Tweedie was ready to
+meet the ladies whom she had invited to take part in the materialization
+of her idea. When the door-bell rang announcing the first arrival, she
+hastened to the parlour and assumed a becoming attitude, while Ezra, who
+impersonated Dora, their maid, when she was otherwise occupied, went to
+the door.
+
+"Mrs. Flint, my dear," Ezra announced a moment later, as he bowed the
+lady named into the parlour, and then vanished. Mrs. Tweedie was very
+fond of Mrs. Flint, her beloved pastor's wife, and greeted her with as
+much cordiality as it was possible for her to display. The chief reason
+for her fondness was the fact that Mrs. Flint belonged to one of the
+oldest families in the State. Her blood was as blue as the bluest blue,
+and her ancestry could be traced back into a delightful abyss of years.
+Mrs. Tweedie had a profound respect for such things--she had ancestors
+herself.
+
+"Tell me," said Mrs. Flint, after they had chatted about little nothings
+for five minutes, "how have you succeeded? Was your club idea well
+received?"
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed," replied Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"And did many promise to come?"
+
+"Every one on whom I called was delighted, and promised to be here this
+morning," said Mrs. Tweedie, proudly.
+
+"Very encouraging, I'm sure," murmured Mrs. Flint, as she glanced about
+the room and noticed that there was dust on the family Bible. Mrs.
+Tweedie knew it was there. She also knew that Mrs. Flint knew, and was
+annoyed.
+
+"I have heard that your son William has returned," observed Mrs.
+Tweedie, hoping to divert Mrs. Flint's mind from the dusty Bible to a
+subject that could not be wholly agreeable to the minister's wife, if
+the rumours which had reached Mrs. Tweedie were founded on fact.
+
+"Yes, college life is _so_ trying for a young man at William's critical
+age. He seems to have broken down completely," sadly replied the fond
+mamma of one hundred and eighty pounds of beef, bone, and deviltry.
+
+"Indeed! I am very sorry to hear of his condition, but rejoiced to know
+that I have been incorrectly informed concerning his reason for leaving
+college," said Mrs. Tweedie. "You must be very happy with him at home
+again after such a long absence."
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Flint, telling one of those weak little lies that we
+all indulge in when it seems to be really necessary.
+
+Mrs. Tweedie's feminine instinct told her the truth, and she generously
+dropped William for something more closely related to the club idea.
+
+"Oh, I have invited Mrs. Stout to join. What do you think of her?" she
+asked, suddenly.
+
+"She does not attend our church--of course that would make no
+difference, but--" The minister's wife hesitated, and raised her eyes
+significantly.
+
+"Her grammar is shocking--she speaks so plainly," said Mrs. Tweedie, her
+nose in air. "And her manners and dress are--"
+
+"Extraordinary," prompted Mrs. Flint.
+
+"The very word."
+
+"She has, probably, admirable qualities, but--"
+
+"No doubt, except--there's the bell!" And then Mrs. Tweedie added in a
+whisper, "I would not have this repeated for worlds."
+
+Just then Mrs. Stout entered the room unannounced.
+
+"My dear Mrs. Stout, good morning," said Mrs. Tweedie. "We were just
+this moment speaking of you."
+
+"Was you now?" smilingly responded Mrs. Stout, as she sat down in the
+largest chair in the room and began fanning herself with a photograph
+that she took from a table. "How d'y do, Mis' Flint. I ain't set eyes on
+you since our Fast Day union meetin'. How's the parson? I heard he was
+feelin' kinder streaked."
+
+"Quite well, thank you," replied Mrs. Flint, rather coldly.
+
+Mrs. Stout was the wife of Peter Stout, grocer, and the mother of three
+boys. Though her grammar, manners, and dress did not reach to Mrs.
+Tweedie's lofty ideals, she had many friends in Manville among those who
+did not pretend to be more than they were. Her family--of course she had
+a father and mother, but her grandfathers and grandmothers--no one had
+ever taken the pains to draw the likeness of a tree and write on its
+naked branches the names of her ancestors. Despite the lack of
+grandfathers and grandmothers, she had a large measure of common sense,
+and a big heart.
+
+"We don't seem to be crowded here," remarked Mrs. Stout, after a
+moment's pause. "Anybody else comin'?"
+
+"We hope so, but it is early yet, you know, only half-past ten,"
+explained Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Early? Good land!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout. "I've been up these five hours
+and done all my work. Oh, there was somethin' I wanted to ask perticler.
+Is Lizzie Sawyer goin' to join?"
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Tweedie, and wondered what was coming next.
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Stout, confidentially, "the reason I wanted to know
+was that she and I don't get along very well together, but there, I
+guess we can manage somehow to keep from clashin'."
+
+Mrs. Tweedie saw rough weather ahead, and proceeded to pour oil upon
+the waters before the storm broke.
+
+"Miss Sawyer was one of the first asked to join," she replied. "She is
+an exceptionally well-educated woman, and has signified her willingness
+to read several papers on vital topics before the club when we are ready
+for such work."
+
+"Papers? Newspapers?" Mrs. Stout asked, with a puzzled look.
+
+"No, indeed! Papers--essays on--on--" Mrs. Tweedie tried to reduce her
+language to Mrs. Stout's mental level in vain.
+
+"Oh, how stoopid I am!" Mrs. Stout interrupted, thereby unconsciously
+rescuing Mrs. Tweedie from her difficulty, "I understand now. I s'pose
+she'll try to tell us a lot about religion, and--"
+
+"Pardon me," said Mrs. Tweedie, quickly, "I think not. Would it be wise
+to discuss religion at our meetings? I am sure that the _other sex_
+never tolerate it in their organizations."
+
+"I s'pose you mean the men?" queried Mrs. Stout.
+
+"I do."
+
+"Well, that's true enough, I guess, but it ain't because they don't
+think it's wise. It's because men don't naturally hanker after
+religion. There's my husband, a good 'nough man, but I can't get him to
+go to meetin' to save me, though he will go fishin' spite of all I can
+say or do."
+
+"Really!" gasped Mrs. Flint. "Does he really fish on the Sabbath?"
+
+"He certainly does," replied Mrs. Stout, "jest as reg'lar as he eats his
+vi't'ls."
+
+Mrs. Tweedie and Mrs. Flint were horribly shocked, and to their cultured
+minds perhaps "vi't'ls" was quite as shocking as Sabbath fishing.
+
+"And what else are we goin' to do besides havin' papers read?" continued
+Mrs. Stout.
+
+"We hope," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "to spend our time in the study and
+discussion of subjects which will be uplifting, that will make
+ourselves, and aid us in helping others, to be stronger, morally and
+intellectually."
+
+"You don't mean it!" said Mrs. Stout, with mock gravity. "And when we
+ain't doin' that I s'pose we'll be talkin' about other folks and their
+businesses."
+
+"I trust not," replied Mrs. Tweedie, much distressed. "Of course, some
+people are improperly interested in the affairs of others, but we hope
+that those so inclined will not become members of our club."
+
+"Well, I hope so, too," said Mrs. Stout, with a suspicious twinkle in
+her eyes. "But it's hard, dreadful hard, Mis' Tweedie, to get a crowd of
+women folks together without some one sayin' somethin' about somebody
+that they wouldn't have said if she was there."
+
+Mrs. Tweedie was as near to tears of mortification as a woman of her
+kind ever gets. She had never realized before how brutally truthful Mrs.
+Stout could be.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, abruptly changing the subject, "is Miss
+Wallace, the schoolteacher that boards with you, goin' to belong?"
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Tweedie. "She is heartily in sympathy with us, but
+will not be able to attend many meetings because of her work."
+
+"I'm real glad that she's goin' to join, I like her," said Mrs. Stout,
+simply, and she meant it. Miss Wallace was likable, but not many in
+Manville had discovered her good qualities. "There's somebody else!"
+exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as she heard the bell which rang at that moment,
+and then added, quickly, "Excuse _me_, of course you don't go to the
+door when you have a girl."
+
+A soft voice was heard asking for Mrs. Tweedie, and then the masculine
+tones of Dora inviting some one to come in.
+
+"Oh, is it you, Miss Sawyer?" said Mrs. Tweedie, all smiles, when the
+newcomer appeared in the doorway. "We are so glad that you could come.
+Of course, you know Mrs. Stout, and--"
+
+Miss Sawyer bowed stiffly.
+
+"Glad to see you," said Mrs. Stout, telling the lie that has been told
+oftener than any other.
+
+Miss Elizabeth Sawyer was a lady of--her age does not matter. She was
+tall and very slight, her hair was gray, and her eyes were the bulging,
+staring kind that always seemed about to jump from their sockets, caused
+in some degree, perhaps, by the black-rimmed eye-glasses secured by a
+heavy cord which she constantly wore. She had the reputation of being
+very intellectual. The very person, Mrs. Tweedie thought, to shine in a
+woman's club.
+
+When Miss Sawyer spied Mrs. Flint she rushed into her arms. She
+considered Mrs. Flint as near her equal mentally as it was possible for
+any woman in Manville to be. They sat down together, and cooed for
+several minutes in the most impolite manner possible, so Mrs. Tweedie
+thought, probably because she could not hear a word that they said.
+Mrs. Stout moved uneasily, and Mrs. Tweedie coughed several times, but
+with no effect.
+
+"Ain't it most time we was doin' somethin' about this club we came here
+to get up?" Mrs. Stout asked, impatiently, when she could contain
+herself no longer.
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "when the others are ready; and I was
+waiting--I had hoped that my daughter Fanny, she is to be one of us, you
+know, would be here by this time. I can't imagine--" Mrs. Tweedie was
+interrupted by the entrance of her son Thomas, the bad angel of the
+Tweedie household.
+
+"Ma," he blubbered, "Dora won't give me a piece of cake. Can't I have
+some, ma?" This exhibition of domestic turmoil made Mrs. Tweedie very
+angry, and it was with difficulty that she controlled herself.
+
+"Thomas, leave the room immediately," she commanded, sternly.
+
+"Am I goin' to have any cake?" the young man demanded when he saw that
+tears were of no avail.
+
+"Thomas, I insist upon your leaving the room at once," replied his
+mother, firmly. The ladies were watching breathlessly the contest
+between mother and son.
+
+"I won't go 'less I can have some cake," said the boy, defiantly. Mrs.
+Tweedie went to the door, and called for Dora. The silence that followed
+was so impressive that Thomas would have succumbed had it lasted a
+moment longer than it did. When Dora came Mrs. Tweedie, with much
+determination and latent anger, said:
+
+"Dora, assist Thomas from the room." Dora was delighted; here was an
+opportunity for revenge. Her hand went out quickly toward her prey, but
+Thomas dodged.
+
+"I won't go!" he screamed.
+
+"Thomas," said Mrs. Tweedie, sadly, "shall I call your father?" A broad
+grin spread over the boy's face, and Dora snickered.
+
+"I ain't 'fraid of him," he said, saucily.
+
+"Take him away instantly, Dora!" Mrs. Tweedie ordered, angrily. Dora was
+more successful in her next attempt to capture Thomas, though a vase was
+broken and two chairs were overturned while she was dragging him from
+the room.
+
+"Ladies," said Mrs. Tweedie, in a choking voice, as she removed her
+glasses and wiped them, "I cannot tell you how grieved I am to have our
+meeting interrupted--" A crash was heard at that moment, the sound
+coming from the direction of the kitchen.
+
+"I guess somebudy's dropped somethin'," suggested Mrs. Stout. Her
+surmise was correct. Dora had dropped Thomas, and dropped him hard. Mrs.
+Tweedie wiped her eyes, put on her glasses, and wondered how much damage
+had been done.
+
+"Thomas is a very impulsive child," she said, "I hope that you will
+overlook this rare breach in his customary commendable deportment. And
+now, had we not better make a start at least on the work for which we
+are gathered?"
+
+"I should say it was time," replied Mrs. Stout. "Up to now we've talked
+about everything from here to Halifax 'cept business."
+
+"The _other sex_," continued Mrs. Tweedie, after listening a moment to
+be sure that her domestic affairs were running smoothly, or, at least,
+noiselessly, "the _other sex_," she repeated, "have their lodges and
+clubs, why should not we band ourselves together in a similar manner,
+and become, in the community, a great power for good?"
+
+"Excuse _me_," interrupted Mrs. Stout, "but don't you think it's
+terrible hot here? I'm 'most melted."
+
+Miss Sawyer looked up in astonishment.
+
+"Why, Mrs. Stout, I am positively chilly," she said, coughing dismally.
+
+"I will open a window." Mrs. Tweedie spoke impatiently as she got up and
+attempted to raise a window. It resisted her efforts. "Really, I can't
+imagine why it will not open--I'll try the other." She did so, but again
+her efforts were unsuccessful.
+
+"I guess it's the damp weather," suggested Mrs. Stout.
+
+"I suppose it is," replied Mrs. Tweedie, as she went to the door and
+called for Dora, and then by way of explanation turned to the ladies and
+added, "Dora is very strong."
+
+"Did you call, ma'am?" asked Dora, a moment later, as she appeared in
+the doorway.
+
+"Yes, I want you to open a window," Mrs. Tweedie replied, shortly. Dora
+advanced on one of the stubborn windows and exerted all her strength.
+Conversation ceased, all eyes were upon Dora. Failing at one window, she
+attempted another with the same result. The windows could not be opened
+by woman.
+
+"I can't do it, ma'm," said Dora, her face very red.
+
+"Call Mr. Tweedie," Mrs. Tweedie commanded. "One of those windows shall
+be opened!"
+
+Dora hurried from the room, and then Mrs. Stout laughed irritatingly.
+
+"Tell us, pray," said Mrs. Tweedie, haughtily, "the cause of your
+mirth."
+
+"You must excuse _me_, ladies," Mrs. Stout began, but another burst of
+laughter that she could not control prevented her from continuing for
+several minutes. "It struck me as awful funny that we should come here
+to get up a woman's club, and then have to call in a man the first
+thing," she explained.
+
+"Were not the _other sex_ created physically stronger than woman because
+it was intended that they should perform just such labour?" Mrs. Tweedie
+asked quickly, but before Mrs. Stout had time to reply Mr. Tweedie came
+into the room.
+
+"How can I serve you, ladies?" he asked as he bowed low and smiled.
+
+"Open a window, please," said Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Certainly, my dear," Mr. Tweedie replied as he went to a window, and,
+without any apparent effort, raised it. "There you are," he said,
+smilingly. "Anything else to-day?" (Once upon a time Mr. Tweedie had
+been a salesman in a dry goods store.)
+
+"No," Mrs. Tweedie replied, sharply. She was displeased with him because
+of his untidy appearance, and wished him to leave at once. He did so,
+making some senseless remark about the weather as he crossed the room on
+his way out.
+
+"Now for goodness' sake let's begin," said Mrs. Stout when the window
+was open and the incident closed.
+
+"Yes, do," echoed Mrs. Flint.
+
+"Well," Mrs. Tweedie began, "I have been reading recently a treatise on
+parliamentary procedure, and if I am not in error the selection of a
+presiding officer should be our first business. Am I not right, Miss
+Sawyer?"
+
+"Yes," replied Miss Sawyer. "And I do hope that you will be our first
+president, Mrs. Tweedie."
+
+"Oh, but I am not competent," Mrs. Tweedie protested, modestly.
+
+"Never mind," said Mrs. Stout, "take the place, we'll never get anything
+done if you don't."
+
+"But, really--" Mrs. Tweedie insisted upon weakly resisting.
+
+"You, Mrs. Tweedie, above all others," interposed Mrs. Flint, "are the
+best qualified to lead us."
+
+Mrs. Tweedie appeared to be resigned to her fate.
+
+"I suppose," she sighed, "that if you _all_ insist (there were three who
+represented the ladies of Manville), it is my duty to comply with your
+wishes. We will immediately proceed to ballot."
+
+"Ought we to hold a caucus?" inquired Miss Sawyer while Mrs. Tweedie was
+passing paper and pencils to the ladies.
+
+"Why, what _is_ a caucus?" asked Mrs. Tweedie in astonishment.
+
+"A caucus," replied Miss Sawyer, "is a meeting held previous to an
+election. The men invariably hold them."
+
+"Then I am very sure that they are not proper," said Mrs. Tweedie,
+positively. "Do you know anything about them, Mrs. Flint?"
+
+The pastor's wife rolled her eyes skyward before replying.
+
+"I have heard Mr. Flint say that caucuses were not proper for decent men
+to attend," she replied.
+
+"And my husband," Mrs. Stout retorted, quickly, "says that a caucus is
+the only place where a vote counts."
+
+"It surely cannot be necessary in a woman's club," said Mrs. Tweedie.
+"Now if you will write on your slips of paper the name of the one whom
+you wish to be our president, I will appoint Mrs. Stout a committee to
+collect and count the ballots."
+
+"All right, but I can't pass my hat," replied Mrs. Stout, "because if I
+took it off I'd never get it on straight again. Put them in my hand, I
+promise not to look." Mrs. Stout proceeded to collect and count the
+ballots.
+
+"Ladies," said Mrs. Flint while they were awaiting the result, "this is
+a day long to be remembered. We have voted for the first time."
+
+"But not the last," said Mrs. Stout, "our time is comin'. Now if you're
+ready I'll tell you who's been elected. Mrs. Tweedie has got all the
+votes and is elected president. Speech!"
+
+"Really," responded Mrs. Tweedie, "there is no time for a speech even if
+I could make one. Of course I am very grateful. We will now ballot for a
+secretary and treasurer."
+
+The performance of voting was twice again enacted with the following
+result: Mrs. Stout was elected treasurer, and for the office of
+secretary there was a tie between Miss Sawyer and Mrs. Flint.
+
+"There's a conundrum for you to settle, Mis' President," chuckled Mrs.
+Stout.
+
+"I am sure that I have no idea what should be done," replied Mrs.
+Tweedie, much perplexed.
+
+"S'pose we call in Mr. Tweedie and let him vote," suggested Mrs. Stout,
+who was bubbling with mirth.
+
+"Preposterous!" exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie. "Give to one of the _other sex_
+the privilege of suffrage in a woman's club? Never!"
+
+"Never!" piped Mrs. Flint and Miss Sawyer in chorus.
+
+"Why not let the president vote again?" said Mrs. Flint. "I am sure that
+I would willingly abide by her decision. Would that method be
+satisfactory to you, Miss Sawyer?"
+
+"I was about to suggest," replied Miss Sawyer, "that I would gladly
+withdraw in your favour."
+
+"Oh, no, indeed, Miss Sawyer, I could not let you make such a
+sacrifice."
+
+"Really, Mrs. Flint, it would be no--"
+
+"No, no, don't speak of it again, I beg of you."
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Flint, it seems to me that you--"
+
+"I'm sure it is very good of you to say so, but I really could not
+allow--"
+
+"Please, Mrs. Flint."
+
+"No, in fact _I_ insist upon withdrawing in your favour. There, now
+please let us not say anything more about it."
+
+"That's right, give in, Miss Sawyer, we ain't gettin' ahead fast enough
+to suit me," said Mrs. Stout. Miss Sawyer succumbed with a sigh. "Now,"
+Mrs. Stout continued, "I'd like to ask why nobody's made a motion."
+
+"Motions are necessary," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "when action on any
+question is contemplated. The chair awaits a motion."
+
+"Mis' President, I--" said Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Mrs. Stout," gravely acknowledged Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"I motion," continued Mrs. Stout, "that we have a committee to get up
+some rules."
+
+"It is MOVED" (Mrs. Tweedie said "moved" in capitals, hoping that Mrs.
+Stout would profit by it) "that a committee on rules be appointed. Are
+you ready for the question?"
+
+"There ain't any question about it as I can see," said Mrs. Stout,
+indignantly. Mrs. Tweedie patiently explained. Then the motion was
+"seconded," "put" (real man-fashion), and carried unanimously, and Mrs.
+Stout, Mrs. Flint, and Miss Sawyer were appointed on the committee.
+
+"Good land!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout when the announcement was made, "I
+don't know anything about makin' rules 'cept for boys. Can I ask my
+husband to help?"
+
+"Certainly not," replied Mrs. Tweedie, firmly. "He would only laugh at
+you and us; besides, we need no assistance from the _other sex_."
+
+"Madam President," said Mrs. Flint as she arose and smoothed down her
+dress. (Where she got the "Madam President" idea no one knew, but it
+pleased the ladies immensely.) "I have read that in Congress they have a
+committee on ways and means. Will it be necessary for us to have a
+similar one?"
+
+"Well, I declare!" unceremoniously interrupted the uncontrollable Mrs.
+Stout. "The idea, and three of us married women with children. I say
+that when our first baby was born we was each of us appointed a
+committee on ways and means by the Lord."
+
+The laughter that followed was suddenly terminated upon the second
+entrance of Tommy Tweedie.
+
+"Ma," he bellowed, "Dora slapped my face and made my nose bleed, and pa
+laughed at me, and said it served me right."
+
+"My poor, dear, little son!" exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie as she rushed to
+him. "Tell mother how it happened," she added anxiously as she wiped the
+blood from the little villain's face. Tommy evaded the question by
+asking another.
+
+"Can I have some cake now, ma?"
+
+"Certainly you may. Ladies, if you will excuse me for a moment," said
+Mrs. Tweedie as she and Tommy left the room in quest of revenge and
+cake.
+
+"Did you ever!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout after the ladies had exchanged
+knowing glances for a moment.
+
+"I should say so!" piped Mrs. Flint. "I knew that he behaved badly in
+Sabbath school--"
+
+"Is Mrs. Tweedie's method the wisest?" asked Miss Sawyer.
+
+"Well," whispered Mrs. Flint, "Mrs. Tweedie is a _lovely_ woman, but--"
+
+"My experience is," interrupted Mrs. Stout, "that all boys have got just
+so much bad and noise in 'em, and if it don't come out one way 'twill
+another."
+
+This interesting chatter was cut short by the return of Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Ladies," she said, "I must again apologize for an irritating
+interruption. As I suspected, Dora was wholly to blame. She had the
+audacity to tell me that Thomas attempted to steal cake. The idea, my
+son steal, and with such blood in his veins."
+
+"Folks that have boys must expect 'em to make some trouble," said Mrs.
+Stout, and then turning to Mrs. Flint, added, "I hear that your Willie's
+come home from college."
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Flint, as a pink flush spread over her face,
+"William has returned, and is soon to enter upon a mercantile career."
+
+"Drivin' a wagon, or a job in the factory?" asked Mrs. Stout,
+innocently. Mrs. Flint became red with rage, Miss Sawyer was disgusted,
+and Mrs. Tweedie mentally vowed that Mrs. Stout should be gotten rid of,
+because if she continued saying things there was no telling at what
+moment the club would fly to pieces.
+
+"It don't make much difference what a boy works at," Mrs. Stout
+continued, wholly unaware of the passion that she had aroused, "so
+long's he don't do anything mean. I saw Willie Flint goin' by my house
+this mornin'--he was walkin' with Miss Wallace, too, if anybody'd like
+to know, they made a nice lookin' couple--and I must say that he's a
+fine lookin' feller, too fine lookin' to follow in his father's
+footprints. But there, we're 'way off the track, ain't we?"
+
+"We have digressed _slightly_," replied Mrs. Tweedie, with icy sarcasm.
+"Our next business will be the selection of a name for our organization.
+Suppose that each of us suggest a name, beginning with you, Miss
+Sawyer."
+
+"Our meetings are to held in the morning--Wednesdays, I suppose?" asked
+Miss Sawyer.
+
+"Yes; that was my intention," Mrs. Tweedie replied. "It's a new idea,
+but if any of the ladies object--"
+
+"I don't object," interrupted Mrs. Stout, "only it's a time of day when
+most of us ought to be doin' somethin' else."
+
+"I had thought," continued Miss Sawyer, completely ignoring Mrs. Stout,
+"that 'The Wednesday Morning Association' would be appropriate."
+
+"Very good," said Mrs. Tweedie. "And what do you suggest, Mrs. Flint?"
+
+"My choice," replied Mrs. Flint, with her eyes find on the ceiling,
+"would be 'The Manville Anti-Male Club.'"
+
+Mrs. Stout snickered, whereupon the others glared at her contemptuously.
+
+"I feel that it is my duty to object, Mrs. Flint, to your suggestion,"
+Mrs. Tweedie began. "We are all married--excepting one," she added, with
+an apologizing smile for the benefit of Miss Sawyer, who was blushing
+with embarrassment. "Would the name be appropriate when we consider that
+our life companions are of the _other sex_? Would it not reflect on our
+judgment in choosing a career in married life?"
+
+"Perhaps we didn't choose," said Mrs. Stout, quickly. "Perhaps--" there
+is no telling what Mrs. Stout would have said if she had not been
+interrupted by the entrance of a plump, pink-faced young woman.
+
+"Why, Mrs. Thornton!" exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie, as she advanced to greet
+the newcomer. "I am _so_ glad that you came. Ladies: Mrs. Thornton. You
+are just in time to assist us in the naming of our club. How is that
+dear baby?"
+
+"Teething," replied Mrs. Thornton, sadly, as she sat down.
+
+"Oh, that's too bad," said Mrs. Tweedie, sympathetically.
+
+"Yes, I'm all worn out, and I can't find a thing for the poor child to
+eat that agrees with him."
+
+"What have you tried?" Miss Sawyer asked, wishing to show some interest,
+though she knew nothing of babies or their food.
+
+"Everything," replied the perplexed mother. "Last week my husband
+brought home from town a dozen samples of prepared foods; we have tried
+them all, but baby's stomach is still in a wretched condition."
+
+"Samples," sniffed Mrs. Stout, contemptuously. "Have you tried cow's
+milk?"
+
+"The idea!" the ladies exclaimed, indignantly.
+
+"Oh, I know it ain't fashionable," Mrs. Stout retorted, "but I've
+learned from experience that cow's milk comes next to the best thing for
+babies."
+
+"Pardon me, ladies," said Mrs. Tweedie, "but I must call your attention
+to the fact that, admitting at the same time the necessity for babies,
+our club is still nameless. Mrs. Thornton, what name do you suggest?"
+
+"Oh, dear," replied Mrs. Thornton, "don't ask me. I'm too tired to
+think. Whatever name is chosen will suit me."
+
+Just then Fanny Tweedie rushed into the room with the energy of an
+infant cyclone. Mrs. Tweedie gazed in astonishment at her pretty,
+light-headed, light-hearted, impulsive daughter, as though her entrance
+was out of the ordinary.
+
+"Why, Fanny!" she exclaimed. "What has detained you?"
+
+"I've been over to Gertrude's to see her wedding things," Fanny replied,
+in a rather disrespectful manner, without noticing who was present, and
+then, in her quick, impulsive way, continued: "They're just _lovely_!
+Really, I never saw such awfully swell things before _anywhere_. She
+ought to be happy if any girl ever was. I couldn't _begin_ to tell you
+about them in a week; and-- Oh, I heard the worst stories about Billy
+Fl--!" A warning look on her mother's face stopped Fanny on the edge of
+a precipice. But Billy Fl--'s mother guessed--so did the others. Mrs.
+Tweedie came quickly to the rescue.
+
+"Fanny," she said, "we are trying to find a name for our club; please
+save your stories for another time. Mrs. Stout, have you any suitable
+name in mind?"
+
+"How would 'The Manville Woman's Club' do?" replied Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Very good," said Mrs. Tweedie, "only I am prejudiced in regard to the
+name of our town; it is so suggestive of the _other sex_."
+
+"Well," replied Mrs. Stout, "we've all tried, now what do you think we
+ought to call ourselves, Mis' Tweedie?"
+
+"I have considered the matter with care," replied Mrs. Tweedie. "Many
+names have come into my mind, but for one reason or another, all
+excepting one were rejected. The one that appeals to me as being the
+most appropriate and beautifully poetic is 'The Morning Glory Club.'"
+
+"Beautiful," murmured the ladies, excepting Mrs. Stout, who laughed
+until her fat body shook.
+
+"Excuse _me_," she said, as soon as she could control her mirth. "It's
+an awful pretty name, but what a beautiful bunch of morning glories us
+old women will make." If the ladies had been profane what opportunities
+Mrs. Stout had given them. She continued to laugh, however, despite
+their frowns.
+
+"Madam President," said Miss Sawyer, when Mrs. Stout's laughter had
+subsided to a gurgling chuckle. "The name that you have suggested is
+admirable. The only question in my mind is concerning the word 'club.'
+Is 'club' more appropriate than association, or some other word?"
+
+"You might say congregation," replied Mrs. Stout, "or aggregation."
+
+"Club," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "is the term generally used, I believe,
+to--"
+
+"What difference does it make, anyway?" Mrs. Stout interrupted. "We'll
+never get anything done if we don't 'tend to business better'n we have.
+We've done about as much in two hours as the men would have done in ten
+minutes."
+
+"Indeed," retorted Mrs. Tweedie, "but would they have done it as well?"
+She asked the question in tones approaching anger. (Blue blood boils at
+180° F.)
+
+"Better," snapped Mrs. Stout, who was fast losing patience.
+
+"And why?" pressed Mrs. Tweedie, determined this time to utterly squelch
+Mrs. Stout if such a thing were possible.
+
+"Because," replied Mrs. Stout, "they wouldn't have talked about
+everything under the sun while they was doin' it."
+
+"No, my dear Mrs. Stout" (Mrs. Tweedie knew the irony of "my dear"
+perfectly), "it would be because the _other sex_ are more experienced
+than woman. And they are more experienced because for centuries it has
+been their exclusive right to organize and govern. In the meantime, we
+women have been kept under foot and in darkness."
+
+"Good land!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, "perhaps _you_ have been stepped on,
+Mis' Tweedie, but I'm mighty sure that _I_ ain't! It would take an awful
+big foot to keep me in darkness." An embarrassing silence followed,
+after which Mrs. Tweedie put the question, on motion of Miss Sawyer, and
+the name, "The Morning Glory Club," was adopted unanimously. At the
+moment Mrs. Tweedie announced, "It is a vote," Ezra Tweedie,
+unmistakably labouring under some great excitement, appeared in the
+doorway.
+
+"What is it?" asked Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Mrs. Brown, next door, needs you at once," he stammered.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed the ladies in a stage whisper. Mrs. Tweedie alone seemed
+not to understand.
+
+"What has happened?" she demanded, forgetting for the moment those
+present. Ezra blushed, and looked about for some means of escape. (What
+foolishly sensitive, over modest fools we all are at times.) "Why don't
+you answer?" Mrs. Tweedie almost thundered.
+
+"It's a new baby!" Ezra blurted, and then fled.
+
+The Morning Glory Club adjourned without form.
+
+Late that afternoon when Mrs. Tweedie returned home she found Ezra
+asleep on a couch in the sitting-room, while in the kitchen her son,
+Thomas, and two of his chums, were trying to tar and feather a fourth
+urchin with molasses and the contents of a pillow. The uplifting of our
+morals and intellect is trying, and some personal sacrifice is
+necessary, she thought, as she drove the boys out of the house, and
+awoke her sleeping husband.
+
+"Where's Dora?" she asked, when Ezra sat up and rubbed his eyes.
+
+"I--I," he yawned. "Dora? Oh, she asked me if she could go out for a few
+moments, and I gave my consent. I hope, my dear, that I was right in so
+doing."
+
+"Right? Certainly not, Ezra. How are we to have any dinner? The fire is
+out, Dora is out--"
+
+"And you have been out," Ezra chuckled.
+
+"Three out--all out!" yelled Thomas. "And say, ma, I'm awful hungry."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+A Man and a Woman
+
+
+ON the same day that the Morning Glory Club was born, it happened that
+Will Flint met Barbara Wallace on her way to school, and he eagerly
+grasped the opportunity to renew a friendship which had begun at
+Barbara's home, in his college town, a year before she came to Manville.
+
+"I'm mighty glad to see you, Miss Wallace," he said, with boyish
+enthusiasm.
+
+"Thank you," she replied. "And may I ask how you happen to be at home at
+this time in the year?"
+
+The smile on his face disappeared.
+
+"I'll walk with you a few minutes if you don't mind, and try to
+explain," he said. Will tried to tell the truth and spare himself at the
+same time, but did neither well.
+
+"I'm sorry, and in your senior year, too," said Barbara, when he had
+finished.
+
+"Yes, that's the worst part of the whole affair. I--I don't know why I
+told you, Miss Wallace, but you asked me, and--you see I don't have any
+one to tell such things to--never did. I don't mean to be disrespectful,
+but father has spent his life trying to save sinners by
+preaching--somehow it didn't work on me; and mother, she's good, of
+course, but--I can't say it just the way I want to--I guess it's
+sympathy I need."
+
+Barbara knew that his earnestness was genuine, but the timidity and
+hesitancy of the big fellow amused her.
+
+"One can do very little without it," she said, trying to refrain from
+laughter, and then quickly added: "I suppose that you have already
+planned for the future."
+
+"No, I haven't decided what I shall do--hardly thought of it, in fact. I
+shall stay at home for awhile, and then--I don't know--there's nothing
+I'm fitted for. I suppose that I might saw wood, or work on the roads."
+
+"That would never do for a clergyman's son," replied Barbara.
+
+"Would be rather funny, wouldn't it? Anyway, I've got nothing else to do
+at present except think about it--I guess something will turn up."
+
+"Wouldn't it be better to find something yourself instead of waiting for
+it to come to you?"
+
+"I guess you're right, Miss Wallace; but here's your school and forty
+kids waiting for teacher to let them in. I won't forget your question.
+Good-bye." Will raised his cap and walked away.
+
+The children loved Barbara, and usually ran to meet her like a drove of
+stampeded animals, but on this morning, when they saw her coming
+accompanied by a stranger, they remained huddled on the steps of the
+schoolhouse.
+
+"Who's that man?" one of the little girls asked when Barbara arrived
+within speaking distance.
+
+"Mr. Flint," she replied, with her usual candour.
+
+"Is he a real good man?" piped another. Barbara was not sure, but did
+not wish to say so. Without making a reply she unlocked the door and
+went in, followed by her flock, and was soon deep in the morning's work:
+trying to make the youngsters believe that the earth is round,
+explaining such perplexing words as pare, pear, and pair, and proving
+that twelve times twelve makes one hundred and forty-four,--if you do it
+right.
+
+During the day the question that the little girl had asked, "Is he a
+real good man?" frequently came into Barbara's mind. She did not know
+the answer, and wondered why she thought of it at all.
+
+Miss Wallace boarded with Mrs. Tweedie. She was a quiet little woman,
+but one whose appearance and personality had been, for some
+unexplainable reason, the cause of not a little comment among the people
+of Manville. Her eyes--Mrs. Tweedie thought that blue eyes lacked
+strength; and her hair did not please Mrs. Doctor Jones because it was
+neither yellow nor red. According to Mrs. Thornton's standard for
+feminine contours, her form was "positively dumpy;" and everybody knew
+that Mrs. Deacon Walton had told Mrs. Undertaker Blake, confidentially,
+that she "always suspicioned folks that didn't have any more to say
+about things and people than Miss Wallace did." Many other women were of
+the same opinion.
+
+On the other hand, the men who knew her thought that she was the right
+sort; and those who were not acquainted wished that they were. Mr.
+Tweedie especially was captivated by her quiet manner, and did
+everything possible for her comfort; and Barbara--perhaps it was because
+she pitied him--showed in many ways her appreciation of his
+thoughtfulness. Thomas, the "Tweedie Indian," as he was sometimes
+appropriately called, declared that "She's the best teacher in town, but
+when she licks a feller it hurts." Men and women will disagree
+sometimes--especially about another woman.
+
+There was no real sympathy between Mrs. Tweedie and her boarder, but
+Barbara was a college graduate, and Mrs. Tweedie had heard that her
+family was of the best. Education and blood Mrs. Tweedie worshipped. If
+the devil had presented himself to her with his family history under his
+arm she would have welcomed him. Besides, taking boarders is a much more
+genteel way of piecing out an insufficient income than taking in
+washing.
+
+Fanny Tweedie thought that Barbara was an awfully nice girl; though she
+was forced to admit after an acquaintance of two years that she did not
+wholly understand her. And Barbara liked Fanny because, though somewhat
+frivolous, she was companionable and amusing.
+
+Barbara tolerated Mrs. Tweedie because boarding places in Manville were
+scarce. She did not care for the town, and disliked especially the
+manners of most of its people; but she kept her opinions to herself;
+which, as has been intimated, did not increase her popularity with the
+women.
+
+Will Flint, son of the Rev. Elijah Flint, was a big, manly-looking
+fellow who might have been a greater success at college if his parents
+had not held the reins so tightly when he was a boy at home. His father
+had preached him a thousand sermons, and his mother had wept gallons of
+tears; yet here was the object of their labour at home in disgrace, his
+career at college ruined in his senior year.
+
+Both said that Will had decided to leave college and engage in some sort
+of business. He had left, but to say that _he_ decided to leave was as
+far from the truth as right from wrong. The faculty decided, Will left.
+He was not all to blame, and nothing dishonourable had been done, but
+his frank explanations did not assuage in the slightest degree the grief
+of his parents. The disgrace in their eyes was an indelible stain, and a
+gloom that was deep and black had reigned in the parsonage since the day
+of his arrival. Outside, tongues were wagging at a furious rate. The
+sons and daughters of the clergy seem to be the special prey of gossips.
+They are supposed to be impervious to temptation, something better than
+the ordinary human. We forget that the same God made them that made the
+children of the butcher and the baker.
+
+Late that afternoon, after Barbara had sent the last little urchin
+homeward, she stood at a window looking out over the fields at the
+autumn foliage of the woods beyond. She had been there but a moment
+when Will Flint came down the road and turned into the path that led to
+the schoolhouse. When he saw her he stopped. Barbara did not know
+whether she was pleased or not to see him. It was time to go, however,
+so she put on her things, went out and locked the door, and started down
+the path.
+
+"Hope you won't be vexed, Miss Wallace, because I came," said Will, "but
+I've been so confoundedly lonesome to-day that I--"
+
+"I am not vexed," she said, quickly. His manner and frankness pleased
+her, and dispelled the doubt that was in her mind a moment before.
+
+"I'm glad," he said as they turned and walked toward home. "The boys
+that I knew," he continued, "have gone away to work, or school. That is
+why I'm lonesome I suppose, and then the place seems different."
+
+"But it's not," replied Barbara, and a smile played about her lips. He
+was only a big boy, after all.
+
+"Everything seems to be smaller and shabbier."
+
+"Things," said Barbara, "grow old like men and women."
+
+"Yes, I know, but--I can't seem to say things the way I want to. I've
+been in the woods all day tramping and thinking; it's done me a lot of
+good, but--I guess I won't talk about myself any longer."
+
+"But I am interested," said Barbara, earnestly, and then added, quickly,
+"in anybody who is perplexed."
+
+"Thank you, but at present I'm nobody. I have yet to earn the right to
+be anybody, much less somebody."
+
+"Very well, if you insist we will drop Mr. Flint."
+
+"I wish that we could drop him out of sight for good," said Will,
+bitterly.
+
+"What a wicked thought."
+
+"If my thoughts--" Will checked himself suddenly and then asked: "Can't
+we find something else to talk about? I have it, the new woman's club,
+have you been invited to join?"
+
+"The _new_ woman's club?" said Barbara, feigning surprise. "I had not
+heard of it."
+
+"You're making fun of me."
+
+"Indeed, it is you who are trying to joke at our expense."
+
+"No, really, Miss Wallace, I meant the woman's club that mother and the
+rest are getting up. Are you going to join?"
+
+"Yes; do you approve of such things?"
+
+"Really, I--I don't know, and yet I ought to know something about it
+because father and mother have been debating the question for a week
+past. Mother is very enthusiastic, but my impression is that father
+thinks that the club is unnecessary if not really harmful. I shall
+expect a great boom in Manville society when it gets in running order,"
+Will replied, and then suddenly burst out laughing.
+
+"Tell me, please, I want to laugh, too."
+
+"Manville society! Doesn't it strike you as being funny?"
+
+"Yes, and no."
+
+"A woman's answer."
+
+"Sometimes her only defence."
+
+"Pardon me."
+
+The October sun was disappearing behind the trees toward the west; the
+night air was stealing up from the lowlands; and a frost-laden wind was
+coming over the hills.
+
+"Isn't the air great?" said Will after they had walked without speaking
+for several minutes.
+
+"Splendid!" replied Barbara, taking a deep breath. "The fall is
+glorious." They had reached Mrs. Tweedie's gate and stopped.
+
+"I want to thank you, Miss Wallace, for--" Will hesitated a moment, "for
+tolerating me to-day." Then he added, "Good night!" and walked quickly
+away.
+
+Mrs. Tweedie happened to look out of her parlour window just in time to
+see Barbara and Will. The sight caused her to shrug her shoulders and
+wonder.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter III
+
+A Male Gossip
+
+
+SAM BILLINGS was Manville's man of all work, and its most garrulous male
+gossip. At fifty he was a gray, wrinkled bachelor--through no fault of
+his own, however--living alone on the scanty income that he picked up
+through the kindness of his tolerant townsmen. Once Sam had been accused
+of having proposed to every single woman and widow in town, and had
+refused to deny or affirm the statement. He was still single, however,
+and as far from matrimony as he ever had been, except once, when through
+a misunderstanding on Sam's part, he became engaged to a loquacious old
+maid with whom he had indiscreetly walked home from meeting. But,
+fortunately for Sam, the lady died just before the date set for the
+wedding, leaving him free and more talkative than ever before.
+
+On the morning of the day following the organization of the "Morning
+Glories" Sam went to the home of Mrs. Darling to put on storm-windows.
+Mrs. Darling was an attractive woman--to look at--but one of the light
+sort mentally, and much more interested in the affairs of others than
+her own. She had been invited to be present at the first meeting of the
+club, but the arrival of relatives from out of town had prevented her
+from going. She welcomed Sam cordially, when he came that morning, and
+invited him to have a cup of coffee before he began work. The morning
+was cold, the coffee good, and Sam was grateful, and before he had
+gulped down the last of it Mrs. Darling knew all that was going on in
+town.
+
+"So Mrs. Browning has a baby at last?" she said as Sam wiped his mouth
+with the back of his hand.
+
+"Yep."
+
+"Boy, or a girl?"
+
+"One, or t'other, I forget which."
+
+"Really."
+
+"Yep, broke up the meetin' of the club so I heard."
+
+"How dreadfully funny."
+
+"And they say that Ezra Tweedie put his foot in it."
+
+"How was that?"
+
+"Why, he was the one that broke the glad news to the gatherin'."
+
+"Oh. What did you say they named the club?"
+
+"Four-o'clocks, or petunias--somethin' like that, it was the name of a
+flower anyway, I don't jest remember which."
+
+"And Mrs. Tweedie was chosen president?"
+
+"Yes, I knew she'd be."
+
+"Who was it, did you say, that told you?"
+
+"Well, I stopped in at the grocery on my way over, and then I had a
+bundle to take to Miss Sawyer's, and--Tommy Tweedie told me the rest.
+Now I guess I'll start in on the winders if you don't mind. I'm in a
+little mite of a hurry 'cause I've got to go over to Mis' Walton's this
+afternoon and give her a coat of paint."
+
+"Very well, you'll find the windows in the attic," said Mrs. Darling,
+reluctantly. "Oh, you said that you were at Miss Sawyer's this morning,
+how is she?"
+
+"Lookin' pretty fair," replied Sam with some embarrassment.
+
+"I thought that _you_ ought to know."
+
+"Where'd you say them storm-winders was?" Sam asked in an effort to
+change the subject.
+
+"In the attic. Miss Sawyer would make somebody a good wife."
+
+"I think likely, but--" Sam edged toward the door.
+
+"I've heard, Sam, that you've been going there lately, and that you did
+not always have a bundle to deliver."
+
+"You're kind of teasin', Mis' Darling, ain't yer?" replied Sam with a
+grin as he backed out of the room and went up-stairs in search of the
+storm-windows.
+
+Mrs. Darling was not wholly satisfied with second-hand news, so she ran
+into Mrs. Thornton's, next door; and, while the baby with a new tooth
+was having his morning "sample," his mamma related her version of the
+story of the first meeting of the club.
+
+In order to put on the front chamber windows, it was necessary for Sam
+to get out on the roof of the piazza. Just as he was climbing out of a
+window, Alick Purbeck, Mr. Stout's clerk, drove up, and when he saw Sam
+stopped.
+
+"Hello, Sam," he called, "what you doin' up there?"
+
+"Workin' for my health; doctor says I've got to have three meals a day."
+
+"Doctor nothin'."
+
+"No, Doctor Jones."
+
+"Say, what's this I hear about Billy Flint?"
+
+"Not knowin', I hesitate to say." Mrs. Darling's coffee had put Sam in
+a facetious mood.
+
+"There was a man lookin' for him over to the store half an hour ago,"
+said Alick, gravely.
+
+"What d' he have, a bill or a warrant?"
+
+"Dunno."
+
+"I hope Billy ain't in any scrape."
+
+"Same here."
+
+"There ain't nothin' crooked about him."
+
+"That's what I say, but there's lots of folks in town that'll believe
+anything, 'specially now he's goin' 'round with Miss Wallace some,
+same's I heard this mornin' he was doin'."
+
+"She's all right, too," said Sam, enthusiastically.
+
+"You bet," replied Alick. "Did you hear about the woman's club?"
+
+"Some."
+
+"What they goin' to do?"
+
+"Well," Sam drawled, "near's I can make out, they're goin' to improve
+themselves, where there's room for improvement, and scatter blessin's
+'round to other folks while they're doin' it. I heard that yesterday
+they voted ten dollars for a pink tea, and one dollar seventy-five for
+foreign missions, and--" Sam was interrupted by Mrs. Stout, who had
+approached unobserved by either of the gossipers.
+
+"You're lyin', Sam Billin's," she called, sharply. It was evident that
+she had overheard Sam's remarks.
+
+"Hello, Mis' Stout," called Sam, unabashed, as he peeked over the edge
+of the roof. "I hear you're a bright and shinin' light in _our_ new
+club."
+
+"Don't you let me hear of you tellin' any more such whoppers, Sam
+Billin's. Lies breed fast enough in this town without any extra help
+from you," replied Mrs. Stout, as she looked up at his grinning face,
+and then turning to Alick, continued, "Ain't you got anything else to
+do, Alick Purbeck, 'cept sit behind a big cigar and listen to that
+shiftless critter up there? Go 'long now, or I'll talk your case over
+with Peter."
+
+Alick drove away, and Sam went to work. Mrs. Stout started on her way,
+but had gone only a few steps when she met Mrs. Darling returning from
+Mrs. Thornton's.
+
+"Good morning, Mrs. Stout," she said, "I'm so glad to see you, aren't
+you out early?"
+
+"Good land! no; I'm goin' over to see your friend Mis' Thornton about
+her baby. Everybody's s'posed to be foolish over their first baby, but
+I guess from what I heard yesterday that she's overdoin' it. She's
+feedin' him on samples--turns up her nose at cow's milk--and I just made
+up my mind that she needed a talkin' to whether she wanted it or not."
+
+"No doubt you are right, Mrs. Stout, but--"
+
+"Right, I know I am--such nonsense. Of course you folks that ain't had
+no children, and don't want any, can't be expected to--" Mrs. Stout
+stopped suddenly and looked up. Sam was looking and listening with the
+earnest attention of an incurable gossip.
+
+"Eavesdroppin', are you?" said Mrs. Stout, contemptuously, and then
+turning to Mrs. Darling added, "Don't you believe one word that
+scallywag up there tells you. He gets his news from wash-women and
+servant girls."
+
+"Well," drawled Sam, "I've noticed that what you hear at back doors is
+most always nearer the truth than what you hear at the front, though it
+ain't quite so flatterin'."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter IV
+
+The "Glories" Meet Again
+
+
+IT was Wednesday, and the morning was as bright and beautiful as the
+flower for which the new club had been named.
+
+Across the road from Mr. Flint's church stood the dingy white parsonage,
+its windows glistening in the morning sunlight. It was there, and on
+this particular morning, that the second meeting of the "Glories" was to
+be held.
+
+Mrs. Flint, with the apprehensiveness of a neat housekeeper, was
+trotting from one room to another, replacing a chair here, raising or
+lowering a curtain a fraction of an inch there, and now and then wiping
+away an imaginary spot of dust.
+
+Will Flint was looking out one of the sitting-room windows, and rocking
+nervously with one leg thrown over the arm of his chair. He wanted to
+smoke and read, but smoking was not to be thought of in the parsonage.
+
+"What's going to happen, mother?" he asked, as she came into the
+sitting-room in search of disorder and dust.
+
+"Our club is to meet here this morning," Mrs. Flint replied, proudly.
+
+"Guess I'll go for a walk," said Will, as he got up, stretched his arms,
+and yawned.
+
+"I had hoped," sighed Mrs. Flint, regretfully, "that you would stay at
+home and meet the ladies."
+
+"No, thank you, mother, I guess I'll be safer out-of-doors," he replied,
+with a laugh.
+
+"Will," said Mrs. Flint, reprovingly.
+
+"I beg your pardon, mother dear, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but--a
+houseful of women, it's impossible!"
+
+Mrs. Flint suppressed another sigh. Since her son's return from college
+she could not accustom herself to his ways. She wanted to say, "Willie,
+be sure and return in time for dinner," but she realized that the boy
+had become a man, and remained silent.
+
+"I'll be home in time for supper," said Will, as he took his hat and
+started for the door, then added, "Good luck, mother," and went out.
+
+Mrs. Flint watched from the window, as he walked down the path and up
+the road, until he disappeared. She was about to turn away from the
+window when Mrs. Stout waddled into view, stopped in front of the
+parsonage, hailed Alick Purbeck, who was driving by, and the following
+conversation, which Mrs. Flint and all of her neighbours could hear,
+took place.
+
+"How's your folks, Alick?" asked Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Children ain't well."
+
+"Too bad, what doctor've you got?"
+
+"Jones."
+
+"He don't know nothin'."
+
+"He did my wife a lot of good."
+
+"He don't understand children."
+
+"Well, I've had him twice, and--"
+
+"Take my advice and get another."
+
+"I'll see."
+
+"Has Sam Billin's been tellin' you any more trash about the woman's
+club?"
+
+"Not a word. Get-ap."
+
+The grocer's wagon rattled off down the street, and Mrs. Stout went to
+the door and rang the bell. Mrs. Flint was disgusted, but succeeded in
+concealing her feelings, and greeted Mrs. Stout smilingly.
+
+"You are punctual, Mrs. Stout," she said.
+
+"Yes," puffed Mrs. Stout, "I always make it a point to be on time; it
+pays and don't cost anything."
+
+"Yes, come right in, punctuality is indeed a virtue, but one that is
+unappreciated by those who do not possess it."
+
+"I declare," said Mrs. Stout, as she plumped into a chair, "I do believe
+I'm gettin' wheezy in my old age, just that little walk from my house
+has tuckered me out. How's the club gettin' along?"
+
+"Splendidly, over twenty ladies have signified their intention to be
+present this morning. The committee on rules has completed its work--oh,
+by the way, you were on that committee, Mrs. Stout. Did you get my
+postal in regard to the meeting?"
+
+"Yes, but I couldn't come. I'll agree to what you and Miss Sawyer have
+done, though."
+
+"Very good of you, I'm sure."
+
+"But you can't make women live by rule, any more'n you can mix cats and
+dogs without there bein' some fightin'." This remark wounded Mrs.
+Flint's cultured feelings, but before there was time to think of a
+fitting reply, Mrs. Stout, who was looking out of a window, exclaimed:
+
+"Here's Miss Sawyer! and if she ain't walkin' with that gossipy old
+bach', Sam Billin's. I thought she was _awful_ perticler about the
+company she kept."
+
+"I dare say their meeting was purely casual," observed Mrs. Flint.
+
+"Most prob'ly," said Mrs. Stout, "but you know how folks will talk."
+
+Mrs. Flint did know, furthermore, she thought, that some folks talked
+more than others. Their conversation came to an end upon the entrance of
+Miss Sawyer, and the arrival of several other ladies in rapid
+succession. Among them was Mrs. Tweedie, who had Mrs. Doctor Jones in
+tow. Mrs. Jones was a meek little woman with a mind as changeable as a
+weather-vane, but she was a patient, willing worker, one of the sort
+always to be found washing dishes after a supper at the church long
+after her more brilliant sisters had gone home. Mrs. Tweedie always made
+friends of such women; they were useful, and seldom caused trouble.
+Another of the new members was Mrs. Deacon Walton, who lived on the edge
+of the town--"in the country," some of the village ladies said. Mrs.
+Walton was not sure that membership in a woman's club would be pleasing,
+proper, or profitable, but was willing to try it.
+
+The ladies were all well acquainted, and immediately began talking in a
+delightfully happy manner. As the number increased, so did the chatter,
+which soon resembled the sounds of a bird store. Mrs. Tweedie, for a
+long time silent and thoughtful, gazed upon the gathering with pride.
+Success such as she had never dreamed of was within her grasp. Every
+woman who had been invited to come was present--wives of the butcher,
+the baker, and the candlestick maker, all were there, and at the signal
+for silence stopped talking and looked expectantly at their leader. Mrs.
+Tweedie looked over the assemblage gravely and leisurely before
+beginning to speak.
+
+"Ladies of The Morning Glory Club," she began, "the founders of our
+organization would be indeed ungrateful if they did not appreciate the
+generous response to their appeal by so many of the first ladies of our
+town. We thank you, and, I must add, hope that you will concur with us
+in what has been done at a previous meeting. The records of the last
+meeting will be read by our secretary."
+
+Miss Sawyer timidly complied with the president's request, reading from
+a neatly written manuscript of daintily tinted and perfumed notepaper,
+the sheets of which were fastened together by a pale green ribbon. When
+Miss Sawyer had finished, the committee on rules presented their report
+in the form of a constitution and by-laws, which were accepted without
+debate. Then Mrs. Tweedie suggested that committees on ethics, art,
+literature, and the Lord knows what, be appointed. It was done.
+Everything that Mrs. Tweedie desired came to pass. She was in the
+clouds; never, even in her dreams, had she thought such power possible.
+
+For an hour the meeting progressed, and during that time Mrs. Stout, for
+some unfathomable reason, remained silent. When she did rise to speak,
+she addressed the chair in such a perfectly proper manner that, for a
+moment, the ladies thought that by some strange process she had become
+civilized.
+
+"Ladies," she said, "I'm treasurer of this club, and I've been doin' a
+lot of thinkin' since our last meetin'. We've got to have some money,
+and it'll take for ever and a day for dues at ten cents a month to
+amount to anything. We've got to run some kind of a show to raise money.
+This ethical and e-comical business is all right, but what we want now
+is dollars!"
+
+"A very good suggestion," replied Mrs. Tweedie, who was feeling amiable
+enough at that moment even to agree with one whom she disliked. The
+ladies murmured their approval. "The chair awaits suggestions,"
+continued Mrs. Tweedie. Upon that they, the suggestions, came like an
+avalanche--everything was proposed from a spelling-match to military
+whist. But Mrs. Tweedie frowned upon them all; only something new to
+Manville would suit her. She desired above all things to get as far away
+as possible from the provincial ways of the town.
+
+"Whatever we give will cost something," remarked Mrs. Darling.
+
+"We can't spend any money if we haven't got any," squeaked the deacon's
+wife.
+
+"Assuredly not," replied Mrs. Tweedie. "The question is--"
+
+"Why not settle this money business first," interrupted Mrs. Stout.
+"Mis' Darling says we've got to spend money whatever we do. I say we
+ain't, what we've got to buy we can get trusted for--everybody else
+does."
+
+"Very true," said Mrs. Doctor Jones, warmly, "they do, and sometimes for
+a long time." The wives of the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick
+maker looked as though they would like to say "amen." Others moved
+uneasily, until Mrs. Tweedie came to the rescue.
+
+"The question is," she said, firmly, "what sort of an entertainment
+shall be given, not how we are to pay for it."
+
+"Madam President," some one said from a corner.
+
+"Mrs.--er--" Mrs. Tweedie craned her neck to see who had spoken. "Oh,
+Mrs. Thornton."
+
+"What would the ladies say to theatricals?" asked the woman with a baby.
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Fanny Tweedie. "A play, the very thing, what a sweet
+idea."
+
+"Fanny," said her mother, reprovingly, yet she liked the idea herself.
+
+"A play!" gasped Mrs. Flint, in dismay.
+
+"I am inclined to think favourably of the idea," replied Mrs. Tweedie,
+turning to the parson's wife.
+
+"But the Church, Mrs. Tweedie, have you forgotten what we owe to our
+creed?" asked Mrs. Flint, anxiously.
+
+"Oh, no, indeed," said Mrs. Tweedie, with a benevolent smile, "but the
+barriers between the stage and the Church are not so high as they were."
+
+"They ain't so high," added Mrs. Stout, "but what most folks can peek
+over if they stand on tiptoes, and their minister ain't lookin'."
+
+Mrs. Flint felt certain that the end of all things was at hand.
+
+"I'm sure," she said, "I have no idea what Mr. Flint will say."
+
+"What difference would it make?" Mrs. Stout asked, bluntly. This remark
+was followed by the most embarrassing, painful silence in the history of
+the club.
+
+When business was resumed, it was voted that a committee of five be
+appointed to select a play, and plan for its production.
+
+The Reverend and Mrs. Flint had a long talk that night.
+
+"And the unholy suggestion was made and adopted in my home!" thundered
+the reverend, forgetting that his audience consisted of only one.
+
+Manville was waking up.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter V
+
+The Stouts at Home
+
+
+THE Stouts were common folks--most of us are, for that matter, in one
+way or another. Excepting Sundays, Mr. Stout ate his meals with the
+frock on that he wore at the store; he used his knife at table in a
+manner not prescribed by etiquette; and at all times his English was at
+variance with the best authority. But in his dealings with men he was as
+honest as his wife in her speech, and made money despite customers who
+did not pay their bills. His three sons were healthy urchins, who obeyed
+and respected their parents--just like other boys.
+
+"How's that new club gettin' along?" Mr. Stout asked his wife while they
+were at supper on the day of the meeting at the parsonage.
+
+"Fine; I ain't enjoyed myself for years the way I do at them meetin's,"
+replied Mrs. Stout, enthusiastically.
+
+"There won't be any need of a newspaper here now," observed her husband
+without looking up from his plate.
+
+"I expected to hear you say somethin' like that," replied Mrs. Stout.
+"But I want you to understand just this much, Peter Stout; that club's
+goin' to be the talk of the town, and do more for it than any crowd of
+men have ever done so far."
+
+"Won't have to do much," grunted Peter, with his mouth full of
+beefsteak.
+
+"You're just right about that. This town has got the laziest set of men,
+outside of their own affairs, that I ever heard of. When they're through
+work for the day, they just set 'round and smoke, and tell each other
+that the town ain't the same as it used to be; and that this thing would
+be done, or that thing 'tended to, if the right men was in office. Who
+elects the selectmen, I should like to know? And then they talk about
+who's goin' to be the next President, and who's goin' to be next
+governor, and let the town that they live in, that's right under their
+lazy noses day and night, go to rack and ruin. I say the right way is to
+do _somethin'_ even if you make a mess of it tryin'."
+
+"Hear, hear!" cried Peter, as he clapped his hands. "That's a great
+speech, Emmy, and all true."
+
+"True, I guess it is, true as gospel," replied Mrs. Stout, and then
+turning on her oldest son asked, sharply, "Henry Warren Stout, are you
+eatin' butter on bread, or bread on butter?" Before the boy had time to
+reply he was hit in the eye with a bread pill from the hand of Paul
+Jones, whereupon Wendell Phillips fell off his chair convulsed with
+laughter.
+
+"We're goin' to give a play," said Mrs. Stout, after she had boxed Paul
+Jones's ears, and the commotion had ceased.
+
+"A play!" Peter put down his knife and fork, masticated and swallowed
+the food that was in his mouth, and sat staring at his wife in
+astonishment.
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Stout, "and we're all goin' to be in it. It'll be
+the biggest thing this town ever saw or heard of."
+
+"You, goin' on the stage?" said Peter, with a grin, and then he gave way
+to hearty laughter.
+
+"I don't see what there is to laugh about, Peter Stout; ain't we got as
+much right to give a play as anybody?" asked Mrs. Stout, indignantly.
+
+"Yes, it's all right, and if the play is as funny as the idea, it'll
+make a hit," said Peter, his mirth subsiding.
+
+"It ain't goin' to be funny," retorted Mrs. Stout. "It's goin' to be a
+classic."
+
+"A classic," he repeated, wonderingly. "What's that?"
+
+"A classic," replied Mrs. Stout, knowingly, "is somethin' you ought to
+know about, and--and don't."
+
+"Oh," said Peter, still in doubt.
+
+"I hope you're satisfied now."
+
+"I guess so; I'll wait till I've seen the play before I say anything
+more about it."
+
+"I guess you'd better," said Mrs. Stout, triumphantly. "Paul Jones, take
+your fingers out of that sauce." Paul Jones obeyed, and licked the sauce
+from his fingers.
+
+"Ma, is your club goin' to have a ball-nine?" asked Wendell Phillips. He
+played first base on the Manville Juveniles, which was the only club he
+knew anything about.
+
+"No, we ain't, Wendell," his mother replied. "Don't you boys get any
+silly notions about clubs into your heads."
+
+"Ma'd make a bully catcher," suggested Henry Warren.
+
+"Stop your nonsense about baseball or you'll all go to bed," commanded
+Mrs. Stout, in a tone that the youngsters could not fail to understand.
+
+The silence that followed was broken by the ringing of the door-bell.
+The boys jumped from their chairs and started on a race for the door.
+
+"Boys!" said Mrs. Stout, sharply, and the three came to a sudden stop.
+"Set down." They obeyed, and wistfully watched their mother as she
+started for the front door.
+
+"Why, Miss Wallace!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout when she opened the door and
+saw who was there. "Come right in."
+
+"Thank you," replied Miss Wallace, "but I haven't time. I called to ask
+if Henry was feeling any better."
+
+"Better?" Mrs. Stout did not understand.
+
+"I hope--"
+
+"He ain't any better'n he ought to be, nor any worse'n some other boys I
+know of," said Mrs. Stout.
+
+"But is he not sick?" asked Miss Wallace.
+
+"Sick? Good land! No; he's eatin' his supper now," replied Mrs. Stout.
+Miss Wallace sighed, some one had been lying. "Who said he was sick?"
+asked Mrs. Stout, suspiciously.
+
+"I understood--" Miss Wallace began, and then hesitated for a moment.
+"He was absent this afternoon," she continued, "and I understood Paul
+and Wendell to say that he was sick."
+
+"Absent was he, from school?" said Mrs. Stout. "And them two boys lied
+about it? It won't happen again, Miss Wallace." At that moment a man
+walked past. Mrs. Stout peered into the darkness for a moment, and then
+called out:
+
+"Hello, is that you, Willie Flint?"
+
+"Yes. Oh, good evening, Mrs. Stout," replied Will, whom it proved to be,
+as he turned and retraced his steps.
+
+"I thought I knew your walk," said Mrs. Stout. "Won't you come in?"
+
+"No, thanks."
+
+"How's your mother?"
+
+"Nicely, but I must be going, good--"
+
+"Don't you be in such a hurry, Willie Flint," Mrs. Stout interrupted,
+and then added, "This is Miss Wallace here, and I guess you'd better
+beau her home; it's a pretty dark night for young women to be runnin'
+'round alone."
+
+Barbara almost hated Mrs. Stout for saying that. She had remained
+silent because, for one reason, there had been no chance for her to
+speak, and another reason was that she hoped--she did and she did
+not--that Will would not follow Mrs. Stout's suggestion. Barbara was not
+unlike other young women in many ways.
+
+"Good evening, Mr. Flint," she said, determined to make the best of it
+whatever the outcome might be.
+
+"_Is_ that you, Bar--Miss Wallace?" said Will as he came into the yard
+and up the walk to the steps. Mrs. Stout noticed that he had started to
+say Barbara.
+
+"I'll 'tend to those boys, Miss Wallace. Good night," she said abruptly,
+and shut the door.
+
+"Good night," replied Barbara and Will, as they turned and went down the
+walk together.
+
+"Who was it, ma?" the boys asked in chorus when Mrs. Stout returned to
+the dining-room, but their mother ignored them.
+
+"Peter Stout," she began in a tone that made him jump, "Henry didn't go
+to school this afternoon, and Paul and Wendell told Miss Wallace that he
+was sick."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Peter, turning on his three sons, who sat trembling
+before him.
+
+"Yes, she came to see if Henry was any better, and that let the cat out
+of the bag. They've got to be 'tended to," replied Mrs. Stout. "Tended
+to" in the Stout family meant something painful. The boys looked at each
+other in dismay, and then at their parents.
+
+"I ain't got time now," said Peter, "but in the mornin'--" With that
+terrible, unspoken threat on his lips Peter put on his hat, and went
+back to the store. Mrs. Stout began clearing the table, and the boys
+silently filed out of the house and sat down on the front door-steps to
+talk it over.
+
+"You've got to give me back that five cents I give you for sayin' I was
+sick, Paul," said Henry, "and you too, Wendell."
+
+"I guess not," replied Paul and Wendell, quickly.
+
+"I got found out, didn't I?"
+
+"We said you was sick, didn't we?"
+
+"I'm goin' to get a lickin', ain't I?"
+
+"We're goin' to get one, too, ain't we?"
+
+"I wouldn't lie for money."
+
+"No; you'd get somebody to lie for you," said Wendell, scornfully.
+
+"Yer little brothers," added Paul.
+
+"I wouldn't steal, anyway," retorted Henry. For a moment they were
+silent.
+
+"Hello, fellers," yelled a boy from the street.
+
+"Hello, Tom," replied the trio.
+
+"Don't make any noise," cautioned Henry as Tommy Tweedie came up to the
+steps.
+
+"Why?" he asked as he sat down.
+
+"I got caught," said Henry.
+
+Tommy whistled his surprise.
+
+"Did the kids (meaning Paul and Wendell) tell?" he asked.
+
+"Nope; Miss Wallace come to see how sick I was."
+
+"What'd your father say?" snickered Tom.
+
+"Said he'd see us in the mornin'. Say, Tom, what's this club for that
+your ma and mine are gettin' up?"
+
+"I dunno," replied Tommy, "only I heard pop say we was goin' to have a
+tablet, kind of a tombstone, you know, in the yard that told on it when
+the club was foundered or somethin' like that; and this mornin' he told
+Dora that he wished the tablet was goin' to be put up right away with
+the date the club died on it, too."
+
+"Are they goin' to play ball?" asked Wendell.
+
+"Women don't play ball," said Paul.
+
+"My mother says," replied Tom, "that women do everything nowadays."
+
+"Boys," said Mrs. Stout, sternly, from the doorway.
+
+The three guilty ones filed solemnly into the house, and Tommy Tweedie
+slipped away into the darkness.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter VI
+
+Barbara and Will
+
+
+"GOOD luck is with me sometimes, Barbara," said Will, as they turned
+into the street from Mrs. Stout's yard.
+
+"Is that a new name for me?" asked Barbara.
+
+"No; but it would be a good one. I meant that I was fortunate in meeting
+you; chance meetings, you know, are often best."
+
+"Yes," replied Barbara, and then added, "if the chance is genuine." He
+had met her so often of late by chance, that now, as he was bold enough
+to speak of it, for a moment she doubted his sincerity.
+
+"Really, Barbara," he replied, quickly, "on honour, I was on my way
+home, and had no idea where you were." (Except, he might have added,
+that she was first in his thoughts.) Barbara believed him, nevertheless
+she was annoyed. Whether her feeling of annoyance was caused by what
+Mrs. Stout had said, by the chance meeting with Will, or by what people
+were saying about them, Barbara herself was not sure. She was certain,
+however, that people were talking and linking her name with his in a
+way that she did not like. That very night at supper Mrs. Tweedie had
+given her estimate of Will Flint's character. The picture that she
+painted, though more suggestive than real, was intended to be anything
+except favourable, and Barbara knew that it was intended especially for
+her. But despite the talk, she liked Will better than any other of her
+acquaintances in Manville, because he at least was companionable and
+honest.
+
+"What's going on at the Stouts'?" asked Will. Barbara related the story,
+and when she had finished Will expressed his feelings with a long
+whistle.
+
+"The little rascals!" he exclaimed. "I suppose it's all my fault."
+
+"Your fault?" said Barbara, in surprise.
+
+"Yes. Early this afternoon as I was on my way to the pond for an
+afternoon's fishing I met the Stout boys. Henry asked me where I was
+going, and when I told him he expressed a wish that he might go too. I
+said come along, and he did, after a whispered conference with the other
+two. We had a bully time."
+
+"You great big boy!" exclaimed Barbara, not knowing whether to laugh or
+be angry. "And those three boys are going to be punished when you are
+the one wholly to blame."
+
+"But, Barbara, I never once thought about school, and Henry didn't speak
+of it."
+
+"Of course he didn't, but now he has got to pay for his fun, and yours,
+too."
+
+Will stopped and looked back, undecided as to what he ought to do, and
+very much disturbed to think that he had been the cause of trouble.
+
+"What shall I do, go back and tell Mrs. Stout?" he asked.
+
+"It is all over now, probably."
+
+"That's so," said Will, gloomily, as they resumed their walk. "But I'll
+go down in the morning and confess everything, and then, some day when
+there's no school, I'll give those boys a good time to pay for the
+whipping they've had. The little villains--do you go to see them all
+when they're sick?"
+
+"Yes, unless some one comes to tell me about them."
+
+That was news to Will. He had thought always that common school
+teachers' duties consisted of hearing children recite, and the
+maintaining of discipline in the schoolroom.
+
+"Do you mean to say," he said, in surprise, "that you think something
+of, or rather like, every one of those dirty little kids?"
+
+"Like them!" replied Barbara, warmly; "I love them. How could I teach if
+I did not?"
+
+"I--I didn't know, I never thought about it before," he stammered. He
+had learned something. He had heard her speak the word "love" with
+feeling, and by it he knew the destiny that he had hoped for, and was
+humbled. They had reached Mrs. Tweedie's gate and stopped.
+
+"Barbara," said Will, "you don't mind if I walk home with you from the
+school sometimes, do you?"
+
+"No," she replied, after a pause. "I am glad to have you--sometimes."
+
+"And the other times, Barbara?" he asked, and then quickly added,
+"Pardon me, I have no right to ask; but I may come if not too often?"
+
+"Yes," replied Barbara, and then went quickly up the walk to the door.
+
+"Good night," Will called after her, and then slowly walked toward home
+filled with thoughts of higher ideals, of Barbara, and his new love--for
+her. What were her thoughts of him? he wondered. Did she ever think of
+him at all? He knew something of what others were thinking and saying,
+but Barbara-- He knew that many believed that while away from home he
+had led a dissolute life, and that he had been expelled from college
+because of some dishonourable act. Barbara surely had heard these
+stories about him--they were all lies--but how was she to know? Until
+then he had not cared what people said, but now-- Was he worthy even to
+try to win her? Thus far in his life he had accomplished nothing. What
+had he to offer her--not in money or position--but as a man?
+
+
+
+
+Chapter VII
+
+Classics and Women
+
+
+THE committee on plays was in session at the home of Mrs. Doctor Jones.
+During the first fifteen minutes of the meeting its members had
+annihilated the works of the poets and dramatists up to the reign of
+Queen Elizabeth.
+
+"We really ought to give something from Shakespeare," Mrs. Tweedie was
+saying.
+
+"What do folks in Manville know about him?" asked Mrs. Stout. "I say we
+ought to give somethin' they can understand."
+
+"My dear Mrs. Stout," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "that is just the reason why
+we ought to give something from his works. The people of Manville ought
+to know something of one of the world's greatest poets. If they do not,
+it is clearly the duty of the Morning Glory Club to assist in their
+enlightenment."
+
+"Well, perhaps we can get 'em to come once," retorted Mrs. Stout, "but
+you can be sure they won't get caught a second time. I think that
+Shakespeare's too high-toned for folks 'round here, but go ahead if you
+want to, I've had my say." Mrs. Stout always had her say, and some of
+the ladies, particularly Mrs. Tweedie, wished that she did not have it
+quite so often.
+
+"Of course," said Miss Sawyer, "we could not dream of attempting the
+production of the whole of one of Shakespeare's plays, but there are
+many beautiful scenes that we could undertake and be reasonably sure of
+success."
+
+"That's a good idea; why not give several scenes instead of one play?"
+suggested Mrs. Jones.
+
+"Good!" exclaimed Fanny Tweedie. "Then we could all have star parts."
+
+"Fanny," rebuked Mrs. Tweedie, "our personal ambition must not be
+considered, and I sincerely hope that a spirit of self-sacrifice will be
+manifested, if necessary, when we come to the assignment of parts. Your
+idea, Mrs. Jones, is to give scenes from different plays?"
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Jones replied; "then if one or more of the scenes were
+unsuccessful, we could redeem ourselves with the others."
+
+"True," said Mrs. Tweedie, wisely, and then turning to Miss Sawyer,
+asked: "What scenes would you suggest?"
+
+As Miss Sawyer was considered the best read woman in Manville, she was
+always the first to be appealed to for advice in regard to such
+matters, though her shyness--often mistaken for modesty--made her
+opinion difficult to obtain.
+
+"During the past week," she began, "I have been looking over my
+Shakespeare (Mrs. Tweedie's suggestion) and have found several scenes
+that we might consider. I would suggest first the trial scene from the
+'Merchant of Venice,' and--"
+
+"That would be great!" interrupted Fanny Tweedie. "Mrs. Stout could be
+the judge--I'd like to play Portia myself--and ma would be a lovely
+Shylock."
+
+"Fanny," said Mrs. Tweedie, severely, "there are others to be consulted
+in this matter." She was provoked, not so much by Fanny's suggestion, as
+by the titter it caused.
+
+"Why, ma," Fanny continued, "you know that we talked it over at home,
+and--" a warning glance from her mother told Fanny that she had said too
+much, and she suddenly subsided. At a word from Mrs. Tweedie, Miss
+Sawyer continued:
+
+"There is the balcony scene from 'Romeo and Juliet,' and in 'As You Like
+It' there are many beautiful--"
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones, "let's give the scene in the forest where
+Rosalind, or somebody, hangs valentines on the bushes--it's lovely."
+
+"Very beautiful," murmured Miss Sawyer. "And in the 'Merry Wives of
+Windsor' there are many amusing--"
+
+"I didn't know that Shakespeare was funny," blurted Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Not funny," corrected Mrs. Tweedie, "amusing; his wit is of the
+keenest."
+
+"Same thing, ain't it?" said Mrs. Stout. "Ain't there a play about the
+taming of somebody?"
+
+"The 'Taming of the Shrew,'" Miss Sawyer responded, quickly.
+
+"That's it. Why wouldn't that be a good play for us?" laughed Mrs.
+Stout.
+
+"I don't like the name," Mrs. Tweedie replied. "It savours too much of
+the domineering of the _other sex_."
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Stout, "we might change the name."
+
+"Change the name!" exclaimed the horrified ladies.
+
+"Change the name of one of Shakespeare's plays!" groaned Miss Sawyer.
+
+"What name, may I ask," said Mrs. Tweedie, majestically, "would you
+substitute?"
+
+Mrs. Stout was thoroughly enjoying the discomfiture that she had
+caused, and was laughing in a most provoking manner.
+
+"We might call it the 'Un-taming of the Shrews,'" she replied, and then
+added: "See here, I don't see any terrible harm in changin' the name of
+anything. You changed yours, Mis' Tweedie, didn't you?"
+
+"No," snapped Mrs. Tweedie, "I added a name to the one I already had."
+Mrs. Tweedie always wrote her name Aurelia Scraggs Tweedie. (Scraggs was
+a famous actor--three times removed--the moves, hasty ones, being from
+Providence Plantation to Boston, from Boston to Salem, and from there to
+Portsmouth, with the king's officers close upon his heels at every
+step.)
+
+"Oh, excuse _me_," said Mrs. Stout, with exaggerated politeness, "but
+the rest of us did change our names when we was married."
+
+"Mrs. Stout," replied Mrs. Tweedie, as she glared at the promoter of the
+disturbance, "the business before us is not of a humourous nature."
+
+"Good land!" retorted Mrs. Stout. "If we've got to wear funeral faces
+every time we get together we'd better bust up now."
+
+"Humour and wit," said Mrs. Tweedie, icily, "have their place, but the
+changing of the name of a classic would be sacrilege." For the time
+being Mrs. Stout had had enough fun, and permitted Mrs. Tweedie to have
+the last word.
+
+"Has any one thought of the old comedies, so-called, of Sheridan and
+Goldsmith?" asked Mrs. Jones. "There's 'She Stoops to Conquer,' and--"
+
+"That would never do," said Mrs. Stout, breaking forth again; "we
+wouldn't 'stoop to conquer,' not even for a classic," and for once Mrs.
+Tweedie agreed with her.
+
+"The title certainly is not appropriate for a woman's club," she
+remarked, decidedly.
+
+"The 'School for Scandal' is a famous play," Miss Sawyer ventured to
+suggest, but the only approval her suggestion received was another
+outburst of laughter from Mrs. Stout.
+
+"If we should give that play," she gurgled, "we'd be sure to make a hit,
+it would be so natural."
+
+Fortunately for the future welfare of the Morning Glory Club the
+telephone bell rang at that moment, and Mrs. Jones hastened to answer
+its summons.
+
+The telephone was in the hall, only a step or two from the room in which
+the ladies were sitting, and as Mrs. Jones went out she left the door
+ajar. Silence fell over the group--not because that they wished to hear,
+of course, but in order that Mrs. Jones might not be annoyed. A message
+to a doctor's home might be _so_ important, you know.
+
+"Diphtheria?" they heard her say. "Where?--At school--The Clark
+children?--What?--Oh, Miss who?--Miss Wallace?--Sent the children
+home?--Yes.--Will you be home to lunch?--What?--Will there be any?--_Of
+course_--Good-bye."
+
+"Diphtheria!" exclaimed the ladies when they were sure that Mrs. Jones
+was through, and a look of anxiety spread over the faces of those who
+had children.
+
+"Did you hear?" asked Mrs. Jones, as she reëntered the room. "Miss
+Wallace suspected that one of the Clark girls had diphtheria, so she
+sent both of them home. The doctor is at the Clarks' now, and says that
+Miss Wallace was right, and that the school will have to be closed."
+
+"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, "just think of havin' them three boys
+of mine runnin' wild for three or four weeks, to say nothin' of the
+danger of their bein' sick."
+
+"What we have heard is very distressing," said Mrs. Tweedie, "but let us
+not be unnerved until we learn all of the particulars. In the meantime
+would it not be wise to continue with our work? Miss Sawyer, are you
+familiar with Ibsen's plays?" Thus did Mrs. Tweedie throw off diphtheria
+for Ibsen.
+
+"I have read 'A Doll's House,'" replied Miss Sawyer, blushing.
+
+"'A Doll's House,'" queried Mrs. Stout, "is it a play for children?"
+
+"By no means," snapped Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Oh, ma!" Fanny exclaimed, "I don't know anything about Ibsen, but do
+you remember 'The Lady of Lyons?' We saw it in Boston. It was about the
+loveliest girl--a princess--who married a labourer's son disguised as a
+prince, and when she found it out he went into the army, and then came
+home as a general or something, and they made up."
+
+"Yes, I remember," replied Mrs. Tweedie. "Let me see, who wrote it?"
+
+"Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer," said Miss Sawyer, promptly. "It's a
+beautiful play containing some of the sweetest love-scenes imaginable."
+
+"Has it got anything to do with a circus?" asked Mrs. Stout,
+innocently, having in mind, no doubt, the lady in a cage of lions with
+the "Ding-a-ling Circus," that came to Manville every year.
+
+"Circus, indeed not!" said Mrs. Jones. "Lyons is the name of a city in
+France."
+
+"Oh," was all that Mrs. Stout had to say in reply. She was gaining
+knowledge rapidly, and realized it. Only the night before she had said
+to her husband that "if the club don't go up I expect to know somethin'
+sometime."
+
+Formal suggestions and discussion gave way to general chatting. They
+were not getting ahead at all, and Mrs. Tweedie became annoyed. As she
+sat watching them, a new and alarming thought came suddenly into her
+mind, and a look of consternation spread over her face.
+
+"Ladies!" she exclaimed, in a choking voice, "it has just occurred to me
+that in every play that has been suggested there are MALE CHARACTERS!"
+The silence that followed Mrs. Tweedie's statement was cruelly
+disheartening. What a horrible thought, such a dejected-looking
+gathering of women was never seen before.
+
+"Is it possible!" gasped Mrs. Jones, who was the first to recover from
+the shock. "Is it possible that in every classic there is a man?"
+
+"Men wrote most of 'em, didn't they?" asked Mrs. Stout.
+
+Mrs. Tweedie's eyes snapped angrily.
+
+"That is not a fair question," she said. "What if they did write the
+classics? Doubtless you can guess why."
+
+"Most prob'ly," replied Mrs. Stout, in a tone that was meek for her, "it
+was because the women folks had to spend their time washin' dishes and
+'tendin' babies, and didn't have time even to try."
+
+"Exactly," said Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"_Was_ there a Mis' Shakespeare?" queried Mrs. Stout. No one seemed to
+know.
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Jones, "if we can't find a play without a man in it,
+what shall we do?"
+
+"Play the part of men ourselves," replied Fanny Tweedie, boldly.
+
+"Fanny!" exclaimed her mother.
+
+"A good idea," said Mrs. Stout. "I guess that most of us women know
+enough about men to make believe."
+
+"That's so," added Mrs. Jones, "such things have been done, I don't see
+what harm it would do."
+
+"But the costuming," said Mrs. Tweedie, "how would that be arranged?"
+
+"Put a sign, 'this is a man,' on the ones that have men's parts,"
+suggested Mrs. Stout. A ring at the door quickly stopped the titter
+caused by Mrs. Stout's suggestion. Mrs. Jones excused herself and left
+the room. Again perfect silence reigned.
+
+"Mother wants the doctor right off," they heard a boy say. "The baby's
+broke out all over."
+
+"I'll tell him just as soon as he returns," replied Mrs. Jones.
+
+"Measles," said Mrs. Stout in a loud whisper, "what a time we are
+havin'."
+
+"It was Sammy Dobbins," explained Mrs. Jones, when she returned. "That's
+the way I have to run all day; first the telephone, and then the
+door-bell."
+
+"It must be very trying," said Mrs. Tweedie, sympathetically.
+
+"Here it is, here it is!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, explosively, as she
+waved a book that she had taken from a table a moment before. "Listen:
+'Vanity Fair, a Novel without a Hero,'" she read. "Ain't there a play by
+that name?"
+
+"Nonsense," sniffed Mrs. Tweedie. "It's full of men, and such men--"
+
+"And a woman," added Mrs. Jones.
+
+"Such a woman," said Miss Sawyer. Mrs. Stout closed the book, and
+replaced it. She was squelched.
+
+"We are getting on very slowly," sighed Mrs. Tweedie. "Let me suggest a
+programme." No one objected. "What would you say to the trial scene from
+the 'Merchant of Venice,' the balcony scene from 'Romeo and Juliet,' a
+scene from the 'Lady of Lyons,' and a one-act play written by our Miss
+Sawyer, entitled 'Yellow Roses'?"
+
+There was much to be said, and the discussion began anew, but Mrs.
+Tweedie was determined to win, and win she did.
+
+"The smell of medicine in a doctor's house," remarked Mrs. Stout, as she
+walked toward home with Mrs. Thornton, "always makes me feel as though
+my last day had come."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter VIII
+
+A Woman's Way
+
+
+BARBARA WALLACE never forgot the morning on which she discovered that
+one of her pupils was threatened with diphtheria. The child affected,
+and her sister, were sent home, and Tommy Tweedie was sent for Mr.
+George, the chairman of the school committee. While awaiting his
+arrival, Barbara went on with the morning's work, but with less interest
+than usual, and a heavy heart.
+
+An hour and a half dragged by before Mr. George came. On the way he had
+met Doctor Jones, who had seen the sick child, and confirmed Barbara's
+suspicions. That morning he had discovered three cases himself.
+Conditions were considered serious, and Mr. George decided that the
+school should be closed for at least two weeks, and instructed Barbara
+to inform the children before they were dismissed at noon. When she made
+the announcement, the thoughtless young Americans wiggled like tadpoles
+at the prospect of a two weeks' vacation, and danced and shouted for joy
+the moment they were out-of-doors. Barbara watched them from the doorway
+as they ran off, and when the thought came to her that some of them
+might never return, the tears sprang to her eyes. When the children had
+disappeared she went back to her desk, for a moment looked over the
+shabby little room and the rows of empty seats, then buried her head in
+her arms and sobbed like a child.
+
+"Miss Wallace," she heard some one say in a child's sweet voice.
+
+Barbara looked up and saw Bessie Duncan, one of her flock, standing in
+the doorway with a bunch of autumn leaves in her hand. Bessie belonged
+to one of the poorest, dirtiest families in Manville; she herself,
+however, was a diamond, though a dirty one, and Barbara loved her.
+
+"Why, Bessie," said Barbara, wiping her eyes, "did you forget
+something?"
+
+"No, um, I--why ain't we goin' to have school any more?"
+
+"Because some of the children are sick, and we don't want any of the
+others to be."
+
+"Ain't we ever goin' to have any more school?" Bessie asked, as she
+walked slowly toward Barbara.
+
+"Oh, yes, when the children are well again."
+
+The child was silent for a moment, then she smiled, and gave Barbara the
+bunch of leaves.
+
+"There ain't any flowers now," she said, "so I got these for you."
+
+"Thank you, Bessie, you were very kind to think of me. Aren't they
+pretty?"
+
+"Yes, um, I picked 'em all by myself in the woods. What makes the leaves
+fall off?"
+
+"Because winter is coming."
+
+"Miss Wallace," said the child after a pause, "I hope you ain't goin' to
+be sick and die."
+
+Barbara took the little one in her arms, and kissed her dirty little
+cheek.
+
+"No, Bessie, I hope not."
+
+"I like you, Miss Wallace."
+
+"I am very glad that you do."
+
+"Does that big man like you, too?" Bessie innocently asked, and then
+wondered why her teacher's face grew pink. Before Barbara had time to
+reply she heard a heavy step, and looking up saw Will Flint, the "big
+man," standing in the doorway and smiling at what he thought was a
+pretty picture.
+
+"Don't come in," said Barbara, in alarm.
+
+"Why, Barbara, what--" he began as he walked toward her.
+
+"Don't, please--Will," pleaded Barbara. "Please go outside, and then I
+will explain."
+
+Will backed slowly out of the door, wondering what had happened to cause
+Barbara to speak and act so strangely. When he had closed the door
+Barbara put Bessie down, and went to an open window. Will felt relieved
+when he looked up and saw her smiling.
+
+"We discovered diphtheria among the children to-day, and I didn't want
+you to be exposed," she explained.
+
+"How about yourself?" he asked, bluntly.
+
+"Why, I have got to take my chances with the children."
+
+"Rather dangerous, isn't it?"
+
+"I--I suppose so; the school is to be closed for two weeks."
+
+Will did not like that, he would miss the walks that he had been
+enjoying with her.
+
+"Are you going home soon?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, but you must not go with me to-day."
+
+"I'm not afraid," said Will, quickly.
+
+"But I am--for you," she replied. The tiniest bit of hesitation before
+the "for you" made Will happy, but he made no reply. Perhaps it was the
+time, or place, or the big blue eyes of Bessie Duncan peering at him
+over the window-sill, that restrained him from speaking the words that
+trembled on his lips.
+
+"Good-bye," was all he said, as he turned quickly and strode away. In
+place of the sun and sky, the woods and fields, he saw her face. He did
+not hear the chatter of the crows, or the soughing of the wind; only her
+voice could he hear saying, "Will," and "for you."
+
+Barbara and Bessie watched until he disappeared around a bend in the
+road.
+
+"Is he a good man?" Bessie asked as she took Barbara's hand, and looked
+up at her earnestly. It was she who had asked that same question before.
+The first time Barbara had evaded an answer, but now she replied
+quickly, and with a flood of meaning:
+
+"Yes."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter IX
+
+Men Talk Too
+
+
+"STOUT'S GROCERY," as the sign over the door read, was the
+scene--especially on rainy evenings--of many heated debates and windy
+harangues on topics as varied as New England weather. There was decided
+the policies of the great political parties; the characters of great or
+notorious men were weighed and analyzed; the worth, financial, mental,
+and moral, of the citizens of Manville--not present--were frankly
+estimated; and, alas, sometimes, the virtues and vices of women received
+the attention of the gathering of do-little busybodies.
+
+It was raining. The prophecy had appeared in the evening paper, and it
+had come to pass that the prophecy and the elements were working
+harmoniously. Only a few brief words were devoted to it by those who had
+gathered at the store on this particular evening. Incense, in kind, was
+ascending in clouds to one of man's greatest gods--tobacco.
+
+"How's that woman's club gettin' 'long?" Sam Billings asked without
+addressing any one in particular.
+
+"I hear," replied Mr. Blake, the undertaker, "that they're doing
+first-rate. My wife has joined."
+
+"You 'n' your wife are gettin' to be reg'lar jiners, ain't yer? B'long
+to 'most everything now," remarked Sam.
+
+"Well, we like to keep in touch with what's going on in the world,"
+replied Mr. Blake, modestly.
+
+"Business is business," chuckled Sam. Mr. Blake made no reply to the
+insinuation. "What do they want a club for, anyway?" Sam continued.
+"Don't they have enough to do without gettin' together and stirrin'
+things up?"
+
+"Perhaps it's because they want a change," suggested Alick Purbeck.
+
+"Change?" sniffed Sam, scornfully. "What change do any of us get? We get
+up in the morning every day at the same time, eat our breakfast, go to
+work, eat our dinner, go to work, eat our supper, and--sometimes we come
+down here and swap lies, and--"
+
+"There's your change," interrupted Mr. Blake. "At our work most of us
+men meet different people, we see new faces and new things, but the
+women stay at home, wash, sew, cook, care for the children, and never
+know when the day is done unless they look at the clock--then they're
+not always sure."
+
+"There ain't any use tryin' to argue with you," replied Sam. "What are
+they goin' to do at this club that'll give 'em a change?"
+
+"Well," said Mr. Blake, "I understand that they're going to give a play,
+study art, science, and so forth, and give social affairs that will
+bring the people together in a way that will benefit us all."
+
+"Ump! I'd like to know how they'll do _me_ any good," grunted Sam.
+
+"Well," smiled Mr. Blake, "I can't think of anything at this moment that
+they could do to make you any better or worse, but when women set out to
+do anything I've noticed that they generally get there."
+
+"You're right about that," said Sam, wagging his head, "they are
+persistent critters."
+
+"Perhaps if you were married you'd have more respect for women," added
+Mr. Blake.
+
+"Maybe his weddin' ain't so very far off," said Alick Purbeck. "I've
+seen him in comp'ny with the same lady three times within a week."
+
+"Jest happened so," retorted Sam.
+
+"Gettin' married jest happens sometimes," replied Alick.
+
+"When a woman ketches me," said Sam, boastfully, "she's got to be mighty
+fetchin' in more ways 'n one."
+
+"If there's any catching to be done, I guess you'll have to do it,"
+commented Mr. Blake.
+
+Sam felt that he was getting the worst of the argument, and changed the
+subject.
+
+"What kind of a show are they goin' to give?" he asked.
+
+"Scenes from the classics," replied Mr. Blake.
+
+"Is it a good play?" Sam innocently inquired. Mr. Blake began to
+explain, but before he had finished the door was opened and Ezra Tweedie
+came in.
+
+"Evenin', Ezra," said Peter Stout, from his seat on the counter.
+
+"Good evening, gentlemen," replied Ezra, with a queer little nod, and
+then giving Peter a slip of paper, added, "Kindly put up those things
+for me, Mr. Stout."
+
+"Certain," said Peter, as he slid off the counter.
+
+While waiting for his order to be put up, Ezra sat down with the group
+of tobacco slaves. Ezra did not smoke himself, his health would not
+permit it, so he said, but everybody knew that the disapproval of
+Aurelia Scraggs Tweedie was all that kept him from the use of the
+seductive narcotic. He liked _to be smoked_, however, and was always
+delighted when his wife sent him to the store in the evening. And the
+men, the smokers, liked Ezra--and pitied him.
+
+"How's things with you, Ezra?" asked Sam when Ezra was comfortably
+seated.
+
+"About the same, thank you," Ezra cheerfully replied.
+
+"Here's the man," Sam went on, "that can tell us all about the woman's
+club, can't you, Ezra?"
+
+"Well," Ezra began, with a cough and a smile, "I cannot say that I know
+all about it, but naturally I do know something, perhaps a little more
+than any other of _our sex_." "_Our sex_" was the offspring of his
+wife's favourite term, the "_other sex_." Ezra was so seldom the centre
+of interest, or the source of information, that the position which he
+held at that moment pleased him immensely.
+
+"Your wife has been chosen president, I believe," said Mr. Blake.
+
+"Yes," replied Ezra, proudly, "and she was the one who conceived the
+idea, the founder, one could justly say."
+
+"You don't say so!" exclaimed Sam.
+
+Ezra smiled a broader smile as he looked at the interested, open-mouthed
+men about him. Very likely he thought that the next best thing to being
+a man himself was to have a manly wife.
+
+"What did you say?" Ezra asked, turning toward Peter, who had spoken
+from the depths of a sugar-barrel.
+
+"Green tea, or black?" said Peter as he withdrew his head and shoulders
+from the barrel, his face very red.
+
+"Oh, green and black mixed, please," replied Ezra, and then picking up
+the thread of the conversation where he had dropped it continued: "Yes,
+Mrs. Tweedie founded the club, and is now its president. I feel
+confident that it is going to be a grand thing for our town."
+
+"How's that?" Sam asked, hoping to "set Ezra a-goin'," as he would have
+expressed it.
+
+"How?" repeated Ezra. "By lifting us out of the mire of ignorance, by
+encouraging social intercourse, in fact, by broadening us in every way."
+
+"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Sam.
+
+"Yes, sir, I do mean it." Ezra did mean it at the time he spoke,
+notwithstanding sentiments that he had previously expressed to the
+contrary.
+
+"What'd I tell you, Sam?" said Alick, vauntingly, and turning to Ezra,
+added: "Sam, here, Mr. Tweedie, has been runnin' women folks down, and
+we told him it was because he wasn't married."
+
+"And you were right, Alick; a man who is unmarried is not competent to
+judge women," Ezra replied.
+
+"And a man that _is_ married don't dare to," retorted Sam.
+
+The entrance of Doctor Jones at that moment saved Sam from a severe
+tongue-lashing from the married men present.
+
+The doctor was a jolly, generous soul who did twice as much work as he
+was paid for, and was loved and hated after the manner of all general
+practitioners of medicine. There were people in Manville who declared
+that Doctor Jones could work miracles, while others said that he was a
+butcher and a murderer; but men who have the courage to fight disease
+and death are not often disturbed or injured by the wagging of
+mischievous tongues.
+
+"Well," said the doctor, as he sat down, "who is catching it to-night?"
+
+"The woman's club," Sam promptly replied.
+
+"The town is more stirred up over that club than it ever was about
+anything before," laughed the doctor.
+
+"Now, seein' we've got the question before us," said Sam, "s'pose you
+give us your opinion."
+
+"Oh, the club is all right, I guess," replied the doctor.
+
+"There, Sam," said Alick, "I guess you're the only woman-hater in the
+crowd."
+
+"I ain't no woman-hater," replied Sam, indignantly.
+
+"No," Alick laughed, "but you try to make us think you are."
+
+"No such thing; all I want to know is, what's this woman's club for, and
+how's it goin' to help Manville?"
+
+"Well," drawled Alick, "it's _for_ the women, and it's goin' to help
+Manville by showin' _you_ what an ignorant cuss _you_ be."
+
+Sam threw a potato at his tormentor, but Alick dodged, and the missile
+knocked off Ezra Tweedie's hat.
+
+"No offence, Mr. Tweedie," said Alick, quickly, "strictly
+unintentional."
+
+"No harm, no harm," replied Ezra, as he got up and put on his hat; "but
+I guess it is time for me to go if my things are ready, Mr. Stout."
+
+Peter handed Ezra his basket, and then whispered something in his ear.
+"Certainly, certainly," said Ezra, "it shall be attended to the first of
+the week." And then turning to the others wished them, "Good evening,
+gentlemen," walked quickly to the door, and went out.
+
+"Ain't he the queerest little man you ever see?" observed Sam, when Ezra
+had gone.
+
+"Queer!" replied Alick, "he ain't any queerer in his way than you are in
+yours."
+
+"Well, I dunno; he's a little too womanish to suit me," said Sam.
+
+"If you had a streak of it in you perhaps you'd show off better." Just
+then the door was opened, and Barbara Wallace came in and started toward
+the group of men, hesitated for a moment, and then stopped. The men took
+the pipes from their mouths and stared at the woman in dripping
+garments. She was evidently in great distress and looking for some one,
+but the tobacco smoke was so thick, and the light so dim, that it was
+difficult for her to distinguish the faces of the men present. Doctor
+Jones got up and went toward her.
+
+"Are you looking for some one, Miss Wallace?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, doctor, I wanted you, and I hoped"--her voice trembled--"I hoped
+to find Mr. Blake here, too." When the undertaker heard his name he
+joined them.
+
+"Who is it?" asked the doctor, anxiously. He had thought that his
+patients were in no danger, at least for the night. Tears came to
+Barbara's eyes.
+
+"Bessie Duncan," she replied.
+
+"Are you sure that she is--" the doctor hesitated.
+
+"Yes, but you'll go, doctor, and you, too, won't you, Mr. Blake?"
+Barbara pleaded. The expression on the undertaker's face was not
+encouraging. "I know about the others," she continued, "but they have
+had such a hard time, please go--for me, Mr. Blake. I'll--I--you can
+come to me for the money."
+
+"I'll go," said Mr. Blake; "never mind about the money."
+
+"Come," was all that Barbara said as she started for the door followed
+by the two men. The three went out into the rain and the darkness of the
+night on their cheerless errand.
+
+The talkers at the store were silent for a long time after that. They
+had heard all that was said, though it was far from Barbara's intention
+that they should, but she had been so eager to secure the assistance of
+the doctor and Mr. Blake that she had thought only of them.
+
+"So Miss Wallace wants to pay the bills of that mean, drunken skunk of a
+Rufe Duncan," said Sam, fiercely.
+
+"That ain't any of your business," retorted Alick. "If she wants to have
+the little girl buried decent, what's the harm?"
+
+"'Tain't her place," replied Sam, more for the sake of an argument than
+because he believed it. "What do you say, Peter?"
+
+"I say," Peter began, slowly, "I've heard about angels with wings, but
+the only kind I've ever seen is just such little women as Miss Wallace
+is."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter X
+
+A Rehearsal
+
+
+SCENE I, Act IV., of the "Merchant of Venice" was on for rehearsal and
+mutilation at the home of Mrs. Tweedie by a cast whose performance
+assured a treat for the people of Manville.
+
+Early that morning Mrs. Tweedie, having in mind the domestic friction
+which had been displayed at the first meeting of the club, and desiring
+to prevent the possibility of its recurrence, had sent her husband on a
+long errand, given Dora permission to visit a cousin, and urged Tommy to
+spend the day in the woods.
+
+When the hour appointed for the rehearsal came, Miss Sawyer--at a
+previous meeting appointed stage-directress--was bustling about
+arranging chairs and table in an effort to make Mrs. Tweedie's parlour
+resemble a court of justice in Venice. When she had completed her work,
+the room looked as though house-cleaning was in progress. While this was
+being done, the ladies who had parts in the scene huddled in the front
+hall, and chatted in subdued tones. Anticipatory fear was already
+hovering over them.
+
+"I am ready, ladies," announced Miss Sawyer. The hearts of the amateur
+actresses beat faster as they entered the parlour and gazed upon the
+arrangement of the furniture.
+
+"That," Miss Sawyer began to explain as she pointed to a large chair
+flanked on each side by two smaller ones, "is where the Duke and
+Magnificoes sit, and these chairs and tables down here and those on
+either side are to be used by the other characters." If the scene was
+set and played as arranged by Miss Sawyer it would resemble a minstrel
+circle with the Duke as interlocutor, and Shylock and Antonio for
+"bones" and "tambo."
+
+"Where do we come in?" asked Mrs. Jones, timidly.
+
+"When you've got something to say," said Mrs. Stout, before Miss Sawyer
+had time to reply.
+
+"We will only use one entrance," explained Miss Sawyer, when the laugh
+that Mrs. Stout caused had subsided. "It will be much easier to
+remember, and accordingly will prevent confusion. And that," she said,
+waving her hand toward one side of the room, "is where the audience is
+supposed to be. Now if the cast will please step back into the hall we
+will begin."
+
+The "cast" solemnly filed from the room, and Miss Sawyer, book in hand,
+took up a position in the centre of the stage.
+
+"'Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio, Gratiano, Salerio,
+and others,'" she read.
+
+"Who's goin' to be the 'others'?" called Mrs. Stout. Miss Sawyer made no
+reply, and the rest did not laugh because each of them, excepting Mrs.
+Tweedie and Mrs. Stout, when the name of the character she was to play
+was read, had a nervous chill. Miss Sawyer waited patiently for some one
+to enter, but no one stirred.
+
+"Who goes in first?" asked Mrs. Blake.
+
+"The Duke," replied Miss Sawyer.
+
+"Goodness!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout. "Have I got to be the first one?"
+
+"Certainly; come right in and act as naturally as you can," said Miss
+Sawyer, with a patronizing air of encouragement.
+
+Mrs. Stout entered, followed by her "soot," as she called it, and stood
+staring at the open book before her--dumb.
+
+"Well?" Miss Sawyer looked up inquiringly.
+
+"Shall I say what I've got to now?" asked Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Yes, but face the audience first." Strange to relate, Mrs. Stout
+seemed to be confused. She turned, but the wrong way. "No, no," Miss
+Sawyer corrected, nervously, "this way."
+
+"Oh," said Mrs. Stout, as she faced in the right direction and began to
+read.
+
+"It's your turn, Mrs. Blake," prompted Miss Sawyer, when Mrs. Stout had
+read her first line. (One would have thought that they were playing
+croquet.)
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake, all in a flutter, "is it?" and then when she
+had found the place, read, "'Ready, so please your grace.'"
+
+And so the rehearsal of the famous scene hitched along until the
+approach of Shylock was announced. Mrs. Tweedie, who was to play the
+part, was ready, and entered at precisely the right moment with her
+accustomed assurance. And when Mrs. Stout had waded and stumbled through
+the long speech of the Duke to Shylock, Mrs. Tweedie, scorning to look
+at her book, began her lines. She had seen a famous actor play the part,
+and tried to imitate him, but failed horribly.
+
+Harmony prevailed until Mrs. Jones balked at a word in the text that a
+lady of the Morning Glory Club would not use--outside of her family
+circle.
+
+"I cannot, will not, use such a word!" she exclaimed, with tears in her
+eyes.
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Jones," entreated Mrs. Tweedie, "this is the work of
+Shakespeare, a classic."
+
+"Umph!" grunted Mrs. Stout, who had discovered the word in question. "If
+such words are all right here, then our men folks are quoting the
+classics and the Bible most of the time."
+
+"My dear ladies," interposed Miss Sawyer, "you do not seem to understand
+the sense in which the word is used; your view-point is incorrect."
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Stout, "I know that when my husband quotes the
+classics folks most always _see_ the point."
+
+"Oh, bother!" interrupted Fanny Tweedie. "Let's skip the naughty words;
+I'm just dying to have this rehearsal over with."
+
+"Fanny," reproved Mrs. Tweedie. "Do proceed, Mrs. Jones, I am sure that
+as we go on we will find a way out of the difficulty."
+
+Mrs. Jones went on with her part, mouthing her lines meaninglessly.
+
+"'The quality of Mercy is not strain'd--'" read Fanny Tweedie, in a
+strained voice.
+
+Mrs. Stout interrupted her by innocently observing: "I wonder why
+Shakespeare used so many old sayin's."
+
+Mrs. Tweedie and Miss Sawyer turned pale; Fanny Tweedie giggled
+unreproved, and then another of those painful silences prevailed.
+
+"Mrs. Stout," said Mrs. Tweedie, when she could control herself, "_we_
+have been quoting Shakespeare for over three hundred years; _he_ never
+quoted anybody."
+
+"My!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout; then she laughingly added: "Perhaps you and
+Miss Sawyer have been quotin' him for three hundred years, but I'm
+mighty sure that I ain't."
+
+"When I said _we_ I meant the world," replied Mrs. Tweedie, haughtily.
+
+"Oh," said Mrs. Stout, and the incident was closed.
+
+"What an unfeeling wretch that Shylock was," observed Mrs. Blake, after
+the rehearsal had continued without interruption for several minutes.
+"It makes me shudder to think of such a man. How are you going to dress
+for the part, Mrs. Tweedie?"
+
+"I shall endeavour to dress appropriately, and as becomes my sex,"
+replied Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Ladies, let us not waste valuable time talking dress," said Miss
+Sawyer, impatiently.
+
+"What's the harm, I'd like to know; who's got a better right to talk
+about dress than us women?" asked Mrs. Stout, pertly.
+
+"But is the subject appropriate at this time?" retorted Miss Sawyer.
+
+"It's always appropriate," replied Mrs. Stout. "A woman can't be happy
+unless she's well dressed, or thinks she is, any more'n a man can be
+good-natured on an empty stomach."
+
+"Which proves the inferiority of the _other sex_," said Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Ump! I don't know about that," replied Mrs. Stout. "We make just as big
+fools of ourselves about dressin' as the men do about eatin' and
+drinkin'."
+
+"Indeed, and is it not commendable to appear as well as one can?"
+queried Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"That's all right," retorted Mrs. Stout, "if it ended there, but it
+don't. Most women folks would wear a smile, a pink ribbon, and rings on
+their toes if the fashion papers said it was proper, and then wonder why
+the men stared at 'em."
+
+"Because some women err in such matters, are we--" remonstrated Mrs.
+Jones, mildly, but Fanny interrupted her.
+
+"Oh," she exclaimed, in her explosive manner, "I'm in the greatest luck!
+Miss Wallace is going to let me take her graduation cap and gown. I've
+tried them on and the effect is just killing."
+
+"You are very fortunate, and how is Miss Wallace?" asked Mrs. Blake.
+
+"Tired out," replied Fanny, "running around calling on sick children."
+
+"I have heard," said Mrs. Darling, "that Miss Wallace spent an evening
+at the store a few days ago."
+
+"There ain't a word of truth in it!" hotly replied Mrs. Stout. "She went
+there just for a minute to get Doctor Jones and Mr. Blake the night
+little Bessie Duncan died. The way such lies travel beats automobiles."
+
+"Oh, of course, I didn't believe it for one moment," simpered Mrs.
+Darling, "and I wouldn't say a word to injure her for worlds--she's such
+a _lovely_ girl."
+
+"Girl," said Mrs. Thornton, "she's every day of twenty-five."
+
+"Why!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake, "I wouldn't have believed it."
+
+"Well," drawled Mrs. Stout, "it's a long time since any of us, 'ceptin'
+Fanny, was that age."
+
+"Mrs. Stout will speak the truth at all times," remarked Mrs. Tweedie,
+sarcastically.
+
+"Somebody's got to tell it," retorted Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Pardon me, ladies," said Miss Sawyer, "but we have drifted away from
+the work of the great poet."
+
+"Poet!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout. "Was Shakespeare a poet?"
+
+"Certainly," replied Miss Sawyer, impatiently.
+
+"And is this play poetry?"
+
+"Yes, much of it."
+
+"Well!" Mrs. Stout's astonishment equalled her ignorance.
+
+"Do you object greatly to poetry?" asked Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Oh, no," replied Mrs. Stout, "poetry is good, like angel-cake, but you
+can't live on it."
+
+The laugh that followed cleared the atmosphere, and the rehearsal
+continued. As it progressed the ladies gained courage, and declaimed
+their lines in what they thought was a professional manner. Miss Sawyer
+was pleased and beamed on them encouragingly, suggesting now and then a
+gesture, inflection, or "business," but, despite her efforts to keep
+them constantly on the dramatic road, digressions were frequent.
+
+"I wonder if Miss Wallace cares anything about Will Flint," said Mrs.
+Thornton to Mrs. Darling, when they were alone in a corner of the hall
+waiting their "turn."
+
+"I am sure that _I_ don't know, but I have heard that he was very fond
+of her, and that he walks to and from school with her almost every day."
+
+"Really! and hasn't he anything else to do?"
+
+"I don't know, I'm sure. Of course you know that there are mysterious,
+disagreeable stories about him, and that for a minister's son he
+is--er--well--"
+
+"I understand perfectly."
+
+"'There's a skeleton--' you know the saying, and--" Just then the
+gossipers heard the rustle of skirts in the hall above, followed by the
+sound of a door being closed. They looked at each other in dismay.
+
+"Do you suppose?" gasped Mrs. Darling, in alarm.
+
+"I'll find out," replied Mrs. Thornton, as she went to the parlour door
+and beckoned to Fanny Tweedie.
+
+"What do you want?" asked Fanny, as she came into the hall.
+
+"Sh! Is--er--Miss Wallace at home?" whispered Mrs. Darling.
+
+"Yes," Fanny replied. "Why?"
+
+"Oh!" gasped the culprits.
+
+"What _will_ she think of us?" groaned Mrs. Darling.
+
+"What are you folks whisperin' about?" asked Mrs. Stout at that moment
+as she came out into the hall and joined them. Fanny laughed, she had
+guessed the cause of Mrs. Darling's and Mrs. Thornton's discomfiture,
+and enjoyed the situation.
+
+"Well," whispered Mrs. Thornton in reply to Mrs. Stout's question, "we,
+Dolly and I, were talking out here, and we happened to mention--we spoke
+of Will Flint and Miss Wallace, and we think that perhaps she--"
+
+"Heard," interrupted Mrs. Darling.
+
+"Good 'nough for you," said Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Sh! But we didn't say a word that she could object to," continued Mrs.
+Thornton.
+
+"At least about her," added Mrs. Darling.
+
+"But," said Mrs. Stout, "you did say somethin' about Willie Flint
+that--"
+
+"Hush!" exclaimed the guilty ones.
+
+"I thought so," said Mrs. Stout, lowering her voice. "But let me tell
+you that I believe that Willie Flint ain't half as bad as some folks try
+to make him out to be, and as for he and Miss Wallace--"
+
+"It is your turn, Mrs. Darling," called Miss Sawyer from the parlour.
+The whisperers returned to their work, but in the minds of two of them
+were many misgivings.
+
+"Serves her right," whispered Mrs. Darling to Mrs. Thornton at the first
+opportunity.
+
+"Indeed it does," was her friend's reply.
+
+The aspirants for histrionic laurels rehearsed the scene twice, and then
+sat down to talk it over.
+
+"What I can't understand," said Mrs. Blake, "is why Bassanio and
+Gratiano didn't know Portia and Nerissa, with whom they were in love."
+
+"Portia and Nerissa were dressed as men," replied Mrs. Jones.
+
+"And supposed to be miles away," added Miss Sawyer.
+
+"Well," Mrs. Stout began, "all I've got to say is that most men know
+their best girls when they see 'em, no matter what they've got on.
+Goodness!" she exclaimed as she glanced at the clock. "If it ain't
+twelve o'clock! My Peter's dinner will be late, and all on account of
+William Shakespeare."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XI
+
+The Narrow Way
+
+
+"MRS. FLINT," said the Reverend Elijah one morning when the family of
+three were at breakfast, "during the past week I have heard frequently
+of the contemplated theatrical performance by the members, and for the
+benefit, of the woman's club."
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Flint, timidly, "everybody seems to be looking
+forward to it with pleasure."
+
+"That was not the point I was about to make," said the parson, curtly.
+"You, of course, know that I disapprove of such pastimes."
+
+"Why, yes, certainly, but it all was planned without my approval,"
+explained his wife.
+
+"Naturally, if you considered the dignity demanded of you as the wife of
+a clergyman." The heavy, rounded shoulders of this conventional
+clergyman were raised slightly, and his dull eyes peered over his
+spectacles at the troubled face of Mrs. Flint.
+
+"But, Elijah--" she faltered.
+
+"I have given the matter careful thought," interrupted the parson, "and
+have arrived at the conclusion that this performance is uncalled for,
+unbecoming, undignified, and unnecessary." Mr. Flint never left the
+church--he was in the pulpit always, and for ever preaching.
+
+"Elijah!" gasped his wife.
+
+The parson's alliterative denouncement amused his son in the same degree
+that it caused his wife's dismay, and it was with difficulty that Will
+controlled his mirth.
+
+"And furthermore," Mr. Flint continued, "it is my desire that you sever
+your connection with the organization immediately."
+
+"But, Elijah, I am deeply interested in the work, and we--we need the
+money--I mean the club does," faltered Mrs. Flint.
+
+"The evil one," said the parson, impressively, "employs many means and
+uses countless disguises for that unholy purpose."
+
+"But surely you do not think that the principles of our club are wrong?"
+
+"Not wholly; but the method pursued to further your purposes is far from
+my interpretation of right."
+
+"But the other ladies, many of them belong to our church, and they--"
+
+"Over them, in such matters, I have but feeble control," sighed the good
+man. "Were it possible I would put a stop to the performance at any
+cost."
+
+"What's the harm, father?" asked Will, who saw that his mother was
+certain to lose the argument, and pitied her.
+
+"William," said the parson, turning on his son, "your knowledge of such
+matters is infinitesimal. The stage is not real, it is but a show of
+puppets, and by persons of uncertain character."
+
+"But," persisted Will, "what have the morals of actors got to do with
+the stage and plays?"
+
+"What have the morals of a preacher got to do with his sermons? In the
+church, and out of it, is not every action watched, every word listened
+to and repeated? Is he not supposed to be an example?"
+
+"Yes, father, but after all he is only a man."
+
+"An exemplary one."
+
+"Usually," said Will in a way that neither his father nor mother
+understood. For several minutes they ate in silence.
+
+"I thought," began Mrs. Flint with renewed courage, "that Shakespeare's
+works were above reproach."
+
+"So they are; there's no finer reading, no clearer understanding of
+human nature than in the plays of Shakespeare; but the performance of
+them is simply the making believe by actors that they are what they are
+not," patiently explained the parson. Will choked over his coffee in an
+effort to keep from laughing.
+
+"Of course," sighed Mrs. Flint, resignedly, "if you insist I will leave
+the club."
+
+"Let your action be guided by your own judgment, and consideration for
+the principles which I believe to be true. Perhaps the example of a
+worthy sister of our church who has already taken the step may make it
+easier for you to decide," said the parson in milder tones.
+
+"Why, whom do you mean?" asked Mrs. Flint in surprise.
+
+"Mrs. Deacon Walton."
+
+"Has she resigned?"
+
+"She has, or will at the next meeting, so her husband informed me last
+evening."
+
+"Then of course I must do likewise," said Mrs. Flint, a little piqued to
+learn that Mrs. Walton had been the first to comply with the demands of
+their church.
+
+"I knew that you could be relied upon to do your duty," replied the
+parson, triumphantly.
+
+"But, father," said Will, quickly, with a trace of indignation in his
+voice, "is it her duty to deny herself something that she believes to be
+right? Is it right for her to do a thing just because you wish it?"
+
+"I consider it so. Sometimes we do not see, or understand, our duty as
+clearly as others. In that case, when we are guided by some one who is
+in a position to know, it is certainly right to do a thing, which, at
+the time, is against our own will." The parson was irritated by his
+son's interference, and spoke sharply.
+
+"You may be right, but I can't seem to understand," said Will,
+respectfully. "But then my ideas, and ideals, are usually in opposition
+to yours; you are always positive that you are right, and I am equally
+certain that I am right; we are father and son, why do we always
+differ?"
+
+"You are young, I am old; the world changes," replied the parson,
+shortly.
+
+"But other men of your age have changed with the world."
+
+"My son, while I do not live wholly in the past, I must cling to the
+customs and beliefs of my youth."
+
+"But the stage, father," persisted Will, with an earnestness that was
+strange for him, "in regard to that the ideas of most men have changed,
+and no one has been harmed; in fact, have we not been benefited?"
+
+"No," replied the parson, "no one ever has, or ever will, receive good
+from it." He had little respect for the opinion of his son, rebelled at
+what he considered his disrespectful argument, and was determined not to
+budge from the stand which he had taken.
+
+"This performance that the club is to give," continued Will, "can do no
+harm, you must grant that, and the ladies who are to take part are of
+unquestioned character."
+
+"True, in regard to the ladies, more's the pity; but the play, my son,
+professional or amateur, is wrong. As for the club itself, and all
+organizations of women outside of the church, I am not sure but that
+they are an unfortunate experiment--sowers of discord and discontent."
+The parson was unmistakably angry.
+
+"Do you really believe that women should not be permitted to organize,
+to enjoy the companionship of others, outside of the home, after the
+manner of men? Do you believe that their ideals should be fixed, and no
+opportunity given to heighten and beautify them?" Will asked these
+questions with deliberation and without raising his voice, yet there
+were unmistakable signs of a controlled force that would have been
+impossible in a man who did not love a woman. The parson glared at his
+son for a moment before replying. "I repeat, it is an experiment--an
+experiment," he growled as he left the table and went to his study.
+Narrow was the way of this man, his creed was his religion; he loved his
+books more than he loved men; in name only was he a minister of God.
+
+"I'm sorry, mother," said Will when the study door was closed. "Are you
+going to resign?"
+
+"Yes," she replied, and there were tears in her eyes.
+
+"There's no need of it," said Will, quickly.
+
+"I've got to," continued Mrs. Flint.
+
+"No, you haven't," replied Will, savagely.
+
+"Will!" exclaimed his mother. "It is your father's wish."
+
+"Well," replied Will, in a calmer tone, "if I ever marry, I hope that I
+shall have sense enough to let my wife decide such questions for
+herself."
+
+"You, married?" said Mrs. Flint, "why, Will, I--"
+
+"I said, 'if,' mother," he laughed. "I must go to work first, and then
+if I find some one--"
+
+"Will, are you sure that you have not found some one already?" she
+asked, and her voice trembled.
+
+Will turned and looked out of the window. He dared not meet her eyes.
+Had his mother guessed his secret?
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XII
+
+Girl Talk
+
+
+"WHAT are you going to wear?" asked Fanny Tweedie, one afternoon while
+she and Barbara Wallace were rehearsing the scene from the "Lady of
+Lyons" which they, with Mrs. Blake, were to play at the club
+theatricals.
+
+"What are the others, who are to play the part of men, going to wear?"
+questioned Barbara in reply.
+
+"Oh, dresses fixed up in some outlandish way, but I had hoped that
+you--" said the amateur Pauline, impatiently.
+
+"Would wear something out of the ordinary," Barbara interrupted,
+smilingly.
+
+"Yes," replied Fanny, "Claude Melnotte should wear something--something
+unexpected."
+
+Barbara laughed, but Fanny stood looking at her doubtfully.
+
+"What in the world are you laughing at, Barbara Wallace?" she demanded.
+
+"How would you define, or describe, an 'unexpected' costume?" asked
+Barbara.
+
+"Oh," replied Fanny, "is that what amused you? I meant something
+stunning, something that would make the people talk for weeks,
+something--"
+
+"Dear me, don't go on like that, Fanny, it's too horrible, too
+impossible. I have an idea for a costume, but--"
+
+"Well, tell me what your idea is."
+
+"But I'm not sure yet. When--"
+
+"Please, Barbara--"
+
+"But, Fanny, I don't know myself. When I do--"
+
+"I promise not to breathe a word," persisted Fanny, coaxingly.
+
+"You shall be the first to know when I have decided," said Barbara. She
+liked Fanny despite her shallow nature, and Fanny was "awfully fond" of
+Barbara, and talked less about her to others than she did about anybody
+else.
+
+"There's no use talking," said Fanny when she saw that Barbara could not
+be teased into describing the costume she was to wear, "some of the
+ladies are simply fearful in their parts, and I'm afraid that they will
+be laughed at when they appear in public."
+
+"No doubt," replied Barbara, "if, by 'in public,' you mean before the
+residents of Manville."
+
+"Yes, of course that's what I mean," Fanny continued. "_Everybody_ will
+be there. The club and what it is doing has caused more talk than
+anything that has happened since the Declaration of Independence. And
+since Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Walton have resigned, and everybody knows that
+_Mr._ Flint is dreadfully set against the club and its theatricals, the
+Morning Glories have had a boom."
+
+"Some one certainly has advertised us," said Barbara, much amused. Will
+had told her of the domestic scene at the parsonage.
+
+"I suppose," continued Fanny, "that you knew all about Mrs. Flint's
+resigning before any of the rest of us." Barbara's face betrayed her.
+"Aren't you mean," Fanny went on, "not to tell."
+
+"You little goose," replied Barbara, "what would you think of me if I
+ran and told everything that I knew about the minister's
+family--supposing that I ever did know anything about their affairs."
+Fanny did not think it mean for some folks to run and tell, but she
+would have been surprised if Barbara had done so.
+
+"You might tell _me_," she pouted.
+
+Barbara put her arm about Fanny, girl-fashion, and kissed her.
+
+"Fanny, dear," she said, "there's something that I will tell you,
+something that I haven't told to a soul in the whole world." Fanny was
+all smiles and attention in an instant, and warmly squeezed Barbara's
+hand.
+
+"I knew you would," she exclaimed.
+
+"Mr. Flint--" Barbara began, but Fanny interrupted her.
+
+"The minister?"
+
+"No, the other Mr. Flint."
+
+"Oh."
+
+"Mr. Flint--"
+
+"Why don't you call him Will, or Billy?"
+
+Barbara did not choose to answer that question. A _Mr._ persistently
+used, is often a good sign--for the young man.
+
+"Mr. Flint," Barbara began again, "is going away."
+
+"To work?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh, isn't that lovely!"
+
+"Yes," replied Barbara, without enthusiasm.
+
+"I mean, isn't it splendid to think that he is going to do something--be
+somebody."
+
+"Was he not somebody before?" asked Barbara, quickly.
+
+"Yes, of course, but--you know how people have talked about him."
+
+"And half that they have said is not true," said Barbara, resentfully.
+
+"You and I know it, but the others don't. Most folks like to hear and
+believe horrible things about somebody else." (Fanny was wiser than she
+knew.) "When is he going?"
+
+"To-morrow."
+
+"And aren't you going to see him again before he goes?"
+
+"Yes," Barbara replied as a pink flush spread over her cheeks,
+"to-night."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XIII
+
+Jingle Bells
+
+
+AT four o'clock the next morning Mrs. Tweedie was awakened by the
+ringing of the door-bell. She sat up in bed and listened until it rang
+again.
+
+"Ezra," she whispered, as she shook her sleeping husband.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Ezra, sleepily.
+
+"Some one is ringing the door-bell."
+
+"Who is it?" he yawned.
+
+"How should I know? Get up and see."
+
+Ezra crawled out of bed, lighted a lamp, put on his dressing-gown, and
+started down-stairs. When he had gone Mrs. Tweedie got up, put on her
+glasses, lighted a match, peered at the clock, and then muttered,
+"Disgraceful!"
+
+Ezra asked, "Who is it?" before opening the door, and when he recognized
+the voice that replied nearly dropped the lamp so great was his
+astonishment.
+
+"Miss Wallace!" he gasped, as he opened the door.
+
+"I am sorry that I had to disturb you, Mr. Tweedie," was all that
+Barbara said as she hurried past him. Ezra closed and locked the door,
+went up-stairs, looked at the clock and then at his wife.
+
+"Where has she been?" he asked, as he blew out the light, and got into
+bed.
+
+"What does it matter where she has been?" replied Mrs. Tweedie. "Is it
+not enough that she has been _out_ until four o'clock in the morning?"
+Ezra certainly thought it strange, but did not venture to offer any
+excuses. "And to think," continued Mrs. Tweedie, "after all that we have
+done for her (and Barbara had paid for), that she should bring disgrace
+to our home in this manner!"
+
+"But, my dear," replied Mr. Tweedie, soothingly, "perhaps there is some
+good reason."
+
+"Impossible!" snapped his wife. Ezra gave it up and went to sleep, but
+Mrs. Tweedie spent the remainder of the night thinking dreadful things,
+and the most exasperating thought was that she did not know--she could
+only imagine.
+
+The explanation or true story of the events of that night (escapade it
+was called afterward by many) was simple, though none the less important
+to those most concerned. Barbara had been invited by Will Flint to go on
+a sleigh-ride. She was ready at the appointed time, and, hearing him
+drive up and stop, had gone out before he came to the door without
+telling Mrs. Tweedie where she was going. Mrs. Tweedie considered this
+omission a suspicious circumstance. She sat up until eleven o'clock, and
+then, being determined to know at what time Barbara returned, locked the
+door so that it could not be opened with a latch-key, and went to bed.
+
+Will and Barbara chatted cheerfully as they drove away from the village
+into the real country where they were alone with the black forest, the
+fields of glistening snow, and the great white moon. Will was happy, and
+Barbara--at first she had regretted her promise to go, but after an hour
+had gone by a feeling of contentment and security stole over her, and
+she too was happy.
+
+They had turned toward home and were going down a hill at a rapid gait
+when one of the runners of the sleigh slipped into an icy rut, and the
+borrowed, dilapidated affair collapsed. Nothing was injured except the
+sleigh, but they were ten miles from home, and not a house in sight.
+After Will had crawled out of the wreck, and helped Barbara to
+disentangle herself, he unhitched the horse and drew the remains of the
+sleigh to the side of the road. There was nothing for them to do except
+walk, so they started off with the horse led behind. The nearest house
+was three miles, but Barbara and Will did not know when they passed it,
+or the next, and would not have stopped if they had. Their thoughts were
+of each other and the future, as they walked, hand in hand, along the
+white road that gleamed in the moonlight, and stretched away into-- Only
+Barbara and Will, and the tired old horse plodding along behind, knew
+just what was said during that walk, but when they arrived at Mrs.
+Tweedie's gate Barbara had a man's love in her keeping, and Will had the
+promise of an answer when he had won it.
+
+At breakfast that morning Barbara told that part of the story necessary
+to explain the hour at which she had returned. Fanny thought it must
+have been a great lark, and Mr. Tweedie and Tommy agreed with her, but
+Mrs. Tweedie looked sour and incredulous.
+
+Later in the day Mrs. Tweedie learned that Will Flint had left town
+early that morning. Here was a mystery, she thought, and she did not
+rest until the whole story, or all that she could gather and imagine of
+it, was tucked away in her head with all the rest of her false ideas and
+ideals. In collecting the details she had found it necessary to barter
+news for news, and when she had finished her calls, all Manville knew
+that Barbara Wallace and Will Flint had been on a sleigh-ride the night
+before, and had not returned until four o'clock that morning.
+
+Poor Barbara, she anticipated disagreeable talk, but thoughts of those
+hours of the night before, and the earnest love of a strong man, soon
+drove away her fears. He had gone, but for her sake, and when he
+returned she knew what her answer would be.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XIV
+
+More Talk
+
+
+"ARE we all here?" asked Mrs. Tweedie, one afternoon as she glanced
+about Miss Sawyer's parlour to see how many members of the play
+committee were present.
+
+"All except Miss Wallace," Miss Sawyer replied, when she had counted
+noses.
+
+"And she will not be here," said Mrs. Tweedie, quickly. "The schools
+have been opened."
+
+"Ain't it a relief to have the children in school again, Mis' Jones?"
+asked Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Indeed it is," replied Mrs. Jones.
+
+"Why, Mrs. Stout, Mrs. Jones!" exclaimed Miss Sawyer. "Do you send your
+children to school merely to relieve yourselves of responsibility? I
+have thought always that children were sent to school to be educated."
+
+"So they are," replied Mrs. Stout, "but if they can be educated, and at
+the same time be kept away from home long enough ev'ry day to give their
+mothers a chance to do the housework, why, I say that school is a twin
+blessin'."
+
+"That is just what I think," said Mrs. Jones, in an amen sort of way.
+"And I'm sure that the children in Miss Wallace's school have an
+excellent woman to instruct and care for them."
+
+"As a teacher, yes," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "but--" she stopped abruptly,
+and looked wise.
+
+"Mother," said Fanny, reprovingly.
+
+"Fanny, I am capable of managing such affairs without the interference
+of girls," replied Mrs. Tweedie, sharply.
+
+"Pardon me, but is it not time to begin our meeting?" Miss Sawyer asked,
+timidly.
+
+"Yes, it is!" replied Mrs. Stout. "The play committee's off the track
+again."
+
+"Well, let us get on to the track and go ahead," said Mrs. Tweedie,
+sneeringly.
+
+"What's this meetin' for, anyway?" asked Mrs. Stout.
+
+The ladies looked inquiringly at Miss Sawyer, who had called them
+together.
+
+"There are many details," she began, "to be worked out in regard to our
+entertainment: programmes, tickets, music, advertising--"
+
+She was interrupted by Mrs. Stout who was suddenly overcome by a spasm
+of laughter.
+
+"Advertisin'!" she choked, "people for ten miles--" another burst of
+laughter prevented her from continuing for a moment. "People for ten
+miles 'round are talkin' about nothin' else. Don't spend a cent for
+advertisin'."
+
+"Quite true," added Mrs. Tweedie, "our club and entertainment are in the
+mouths of everybody."
+
+"And I'm 'fraid they've got a hard pill to swaller," said Mrs. Stout,
+wiping her eyes.
+
+"What do you mean?" Mrs. Tweedie quickly demanded.
+
+"Oh, nothin' against anybody in pertic'ler, only it has struck me that
+some of us old women in the show are goin' to be dreadful funny when we
+ain't s'posed to be."
+
+"The people know that we do not pretend to be more than amateurs,"
+pleaded Miss Sawyer.
+
+"I know that," replied Mrs. Stout, "but there are good and bad
+amatoors."
+
+"It is too bad of you to say such things, Mrs. Stout," said Mrs. Blake.
+"I am sure that we shall do quite as well as we are expected to do."
+
+"Of course," smiled Mrs. Stout, "but we're bound to make mistakes, and
+we don't want to be any bigger fools than we can help."
+
+"Fools indeed!" snapped Mrs. Tweedie, "I am sure that the ladies who are
+to take part in our entertainment are of exceptional intelligence and
+ability--with one or two exceptions."
+
+"And I'm prob'ly the biggest exception," said Mrs. Stout.
+
+"I mentioned no names," replied Mrs. Tweedie, haughtily.
+
+"You don't have to," retorted Mrs. Stout.
+
+Mrs. Tweedie's face was flushed with anger. The others looked
+frightened, they feared that the open rupture between Mrs. Stout and
+Mrs. Tweedie, which had been brewing since the first meeting of the
+club, was about to take place. But Mrs. Tweedie's anger was too intense
+for words, and after glaring at the cause of her wrath for a moment, she
+sank back in her chair with the last word trembling on her
+lips--unspoken.
+
+To dictate, to be absolute, was Mrs. Tweedie's joy--her life; but her
+power was waning, though she did not realize it. A mild spirit of
+rebellion had crept into the minds of some of the members which promised
+to bear fruit before the expiration of her term of office. Mrs. Stout,
+the only outspoken rebel, caused Mrs. Tweedie more annoyance than any
+other member because she would speak truths that were certain to hit
+somebody, and Mrs. Tweedie always presented the most tempting mark.
+
+"What have you learned concerning the orchestra, Mrs. Jones?" asked
+Miss Sawyer when the temporary cessation of talk had cleared away the
+clouds.
+
+"Orchestra!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, without giving Mrs. Jones a chance to
+reply. "An orchestra will cost too much. Can't we get somebody to play
+the piano for nothing? We're tryin' to make money--anybody can spend
+it."
+
+Mrs. Tweedie had set her heart upon having an orchestra, and immediately
+trained her guns on Mrs. Stout's economical proposition and opened fire.
+
+"Money is not the only thing," she said, epigrammatically. "We must not
+forget what we owe to art. To my mind orchestral music is an absolutely
+essential adjunct to a Thespian production."
+
+"Perhaps that's so," replied Mrs. Stout, doubtfully. "I ain't quite
+pos'tive."
+
+Mrs. Tweedie smiled. With her big words she had scored a bull's-eye.
+
+"As for the money," Mrs. Stout continued, "maybe it ain't the 'only
+thing,' but it comes precious near it."
+
+"But, Mrs. Stout," said Fanny Tweedie, "we've just _got_ to make a
+'hit' with our first entertainment."
+
+"Fanny, we are not talking about baseball," remonstrated Mrs. Tweedie,
+who had absorbed unconsciously some knowledge of the national game from
+her son Thomas, and for the moment forgot the application to the stage
+of the word in question.
+
+"The word 'hit' means success on the stage," replied Fanny. "Does it
+not, Miss Sawyer?"
+
+"I have seen the word so used in the newspapers," answered Miss Sawyer.
+
+"The newspapers," said Mrs. Tweedie, sharply, "are not written in the
+best English."
+
+"Perhaps they ain't," interposed Mrs. Stout, "but they're written the
+way most of us talk and so that we can understand 'em."
+
+"The word has little to do with the business before us," snapped Mrs.
+Tweedie, dismissing the subject. "You mentioned programmes and tickets,
+Miss Sawyer, what about them?"
+
+"The expense will be only a trifle; I suppose Mr. Hunter will do the
+printing," replied Miss Sawyer.
+
+"Of course," said Mrs. Tweedie, in a positive way that the ladies did
+not like, because Mr. Hunter was Mrs. Tweedie's cousin, a descendant of
+the famous ancestor. "And now," she continued, "is there anything else
+that has not been attended to?"
+
+"Has the hall been hired?" asked Mrs. Jones.
+
+"Really!" exclaimed Miss Sawyer, "I had wholly forgotten it!"
+
+"You'd better get after it quick, or some of the men folks will get
+ahead of us with some kind of a political meetin'," said Mrs. Stout.
+"Then we'll have to 'stoop to conquer' all right."
+
+"You will attend to the matter to-day, Miss Sawyer?" Mrs. Tweedie asked,
+and upon receiving an affirmative nod continued, "And now, if there
+is--"
+
+"Oh," interrupted Mrs. Jones, "what shall we do about Mr. Flint? He is
+so firmly opposed to our entertainment that--"
+
+"He's our advertisin' agent," remarked Mrs. Stout, irreverently.
+
+"What _can_ we do?" said Miss Sawyer.
+
+"What can _he_ do?" asked Fanny.
+
+"It grieves me," Mrs. Tweedie began, "to think that we are engaged upon
+an enterprise to which our worthy pastor is so much opposed, but I do
+not see my way clear to yield to his opposition. Surely the club cannot
+give up the entertainment."
+
+"All we can do," said Mrs. Stout, "is to go ahead with the show and pay
+no attention to what he says."
+
+"Mrs. Stout, our entertainment is not to be a 'show' in any sense,"
+replied Mrs. Tweedie, indignantly.
+
+"As I said once before to-day, it may be for some of us," retorted Mrs.
+Stout.
+
+"Well, I attend Mr. Flint's church," said Mrs. Jones, "and have the
+greatest respect for him, but I must say that I cannot fully agree with
+him in his ideas about the stage."
+
+"Nor I," said Miss Sawyer.
+
+"He's too stiff-backed for me," was Mrs. Stout's contribution.
+
+"Me too," chirped Fanny, and her mother and Mrs. Blake silently agreed
+with the others. For once they were of one mind. Mr. Flint could rave
+until he was hoarse.
+
+"For the land sakes!" suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as she sat up very
+straight with her eyes fixed upon something on the other side of the
+room. Then, as though controlled by some mysterious, irresistible force,
+she got up and walked toward the mantel, and when near enough to be
+sure that her eyes were not deceiving her, stopped. "If it ain't a
+picture of Sam Billin's!"
+
+Miss Sawyer blushed, and wondered how she could have been so careless.
+Poor Lizzie, with her Sam was a sort of "forlorn hope," and everybody
+knew it, but Mrs. Stout did not spare her.
+
+"It's usually pretty serious when he gets 'round to givin' his picture,"
+she said. "I wouldn't have believed it, Miss Sawyer, because Sam ain't
+exactly your kind. To be sure he's got some good points, but he ain't
+literary a mite."
+
+"Mrs. Stout," said Mrs. Tweedie, angrily, "we came here this morning to
+transact business connected with our entertainment, and _not_ to meddle
+with the affairs of others."
+
+"Well," replied Mrs. Stout, good-naturedly, "we seem to have done both
+pretty well."
+
+"I _must_ be going," said Mrs. Jones, as she jumped up and bustled about
+getting her things and began putting them on. The others followed her
+example and thus again was the rupture that seemed inevitable between
+Mrs. Tweedie and Mrs. Stout postponed.
+
+When they had gone Miss Sawyer took the photograph of Sam Billings from
+the mantel, looked at it for a long time, and then, with a sigh which
+could not be suppressed, she hid the picture in a drawer beneath a
+package of photographs of forgotten friends.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XV
+
+Two Letters
+
+
+WILL--FRIEND:--Since my last letter much has happened in Manville of
+interest to us both--more than I have time to tell now. The schools
+opened last Monday, and the children really seemed glad to get
+back--especially the dirty ones. I have discovered that work gives more
+happiness than idleness and the gossip of the village.
+
+Many versions of the story of our accident have been circulated the
+length and breadth of the land. Since then Mrs. Tweedie has kept me at
+arm's length, but Fanny has become a real friend, one whom I need and
+appreciate.
+
+Every spare moment we spend rehearsing the scene that we are to give at
+the club entertainment.
+
+The Morning Glories are blooming all the time, and the entertainment is
+expected to be the event of the season.
+
+I called on the Duncans yesterday. Rufe has reformed, temporarily, at
+least, and Mrs. Duncan, poor creature, is happier than she has been for
+many years.
+
+They had found out who put the flowers on little Bessie's grave, and
+were very grateful.
+
+Good Mrs. Stout continues to keep people and things stirred up. I
+imagine that her motto must be "The Truth, the whole Truth, and nothing
+but the Truth." I never would have believed that the truth spoken at all
+times, regardless of anybody and everything, could be so amusingly
+disturbing.
+
+What you have written about your work is very interesting--please tell
+me more. Whenever I rehearse the part that I am to play there are
+many--many lines that send my thoughts to you. The closing words are
+best: "All angels guard and keep you."
+
+                                                     BARBARA.
+
+    _January seventeenth._
+
+
+    Jan. 20, 18--.
+
+MY DEAR BARBARA:--Until I went away and began to receive your letters I
+never knew what a real letter was like. When I was at college, father
+wrote me a weekly sermon, and mother sent pages of don'ts. They are
+doing the same now, but you send me what I need--cheerfulness and
+encouragement.
+
+My work continues to be interesting, though hard, but hard work is what
+I need, too. Until now, I never knew how satisfying it could be. I never
+knew what it was to feel like a man until I began the struggle urged on
+by love for a good woman.
+
+From your letters I have received the impression that my native town is
+being stirred up in a manner that must be a revelation to the
+inhabitants who have been asleep for so many years. If the Morning
+Glories never do anything else they will have accomplished a great deal.
+I know that you will be splendid in your part, and hope to be able to
+come down to see you, but cannot be sure until the last moment.
+
+I have resumed my evening studies and take much pleasure in them.
+
+Since I have been here I have attended church regularly--something that
+I have not done since I was physically big enough to refuse--and please
+don't laugh when I confess that I enjoy the service very much.
+
+The sermons are different from any that I have ever heard before. The
+clergyman seems to be talking to _me_, about clean thoughts and right
+living. And when the service is over I feel stronger and better, and
+that the world is a beautiful place. It is beautiful, Barbara, because
+you are in it. Each day I long so much to see you. What is there that I
+would not give for one moment in your presence? As it is, your letters
+are my life.
+
+                                                          WILL.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XVI
+
+Advertising
+
+
+"HOW d'y'," said Sam Billings, one morning as he sauntered into Stout's
+Grocery, where the proprietor was busily engaged sorting a barrel of
+apples.
+
+"Mornin'," replied Peter.
+
+"Nice kind of weather."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How's things?"
+
+"Nothin' to complain about."
+
+"You're lucky."
+
+"You mean I 'tend to business."
+
+"What's that got to do with luck?"
+
+"Most everything."
+
+"What you gettin' for apples now?" Sam asked as he picked up one of the
+largest and took a huge bite.
+
+"Nothin'--for some," replied Peter, without looking up.
+
+"Give 'em away?" munched Sam, innocently.
+
+"Don't have to."
+
+"You mean some folks pay, and some folks don't?"
+
+"Somethin' like that."
+
+"And them that do pay have to make up for them that don't," Sam
+chuckled, wisely.
+
+"That's about it," replied Peter, wearily, as he rolled the empty barrel
+toward the rear of the store.
+
+"Say, Peter," said Sam, following, "I want to borrer some big sheets of
+wrappin' paper and your markin' ink and brush, if you don't mind."
+
+"Goin' to write a letter?" grinned Peter.
+
+"Now, Peter, quit your teasin'. I'll tell you all about it when it's
+finished."
+
+"All right, help yourself," said Peter, as he went behind the counter,
+and turned an attentive ear, and a smiling what-will-you-have-this-morning
+look on a customer who had just come in.
+
+Sam took twenty-five or thirty of the largest sheets of wrapping-paper
+he could find, and went into the back room where the oil, molasses,
+vinegar, empty boxes, etc., were kept. After rummaging about for a few
+minutes he found the marking ink and brush. Then he spread one of the
+sheets of paper on a bench, dipped the brush in the ink, and eyed the
+paper with a how-shall-I-begin look. Five minutes later Peter came out
+to draw some oil and found him in the same attitude.
+
+"Got somethin' on your mind, Sam?" he asked.
+
+"Eh! Oh, yes," Sam replied, "I say, Peter, have you got any old
+show-bills?"
+
+"There's one in the window 'bout the firemen's 'play-out' over to Union
+Corners."
+
+"That won't do."
+
+"Well, then there's some old circus bills pasted on the inside of the
+barn door," said Peter, as he squatted in front of the kerosene barrel
+and began filling a can.
+
+"I dunno, guess I'll take a look at 'em anyway," replied Sam,
+doubtfully, as he started out of the back door toward the barn.
+
+Peter watched through the doorway, and wondered what Sam was up to until
+he was called back to business by the kerosene which was running over
+the top of the can.
+
+Sam returned to the back room after an absence of ten minutes, took up his
+brush and eagerly went to work. After half an hour's labour he had painted
+something that resembled a homemade no-trespassing-beware-of-the-dog sign
+upside down, which read:
+
+           "BIG SHOW
+    COME ONE COME ALL AND SEE
+       THE MORNING GLORY
+           CLUB in
+         SHAKESPEARE.
+
+      VETERANS HALL MANVILLE Wed. Evg. Feb. 17, 18--, at
+      eight o'clock SHARP doors open at SEVEN tickets 25
+      cents RESERVED seats and CHILDREN 15 cents EXTRA, no
+      CHILDREN and dogs in ARMS not admitted."
+
+Sam held up the sheet and read it again and again with pride. His only
+regret was that he had no red or green paint to heighten the effect and
+make the poster a work of real art.
+
+"Peter," he called, when he was sure that his work could not be
+improved, and when Peter appeared in the doorway, asked: "What do you
+think of that?"
+
+"Well," said Peter, slowly, after he had read the poster, "it shows up
+some."
+
+"I should say it did," replied Sam, proudly. "And it's jest what the
+show needs. Ev'ry house and barn for ten miles 'round oughter be papered
+with 'em inside and out."
+
+"Your idea?" queried Peter.
+
+"Ev'ry word."
+
+"What you goin' to do with it?"
+
+"Make a dozen more and stick 'em up 'round."
+
+"Does the club women folks know?" asked Peter.
+
+"Well,--er--I--I've talked it over with one of the officers," replied
+Sam, hesitating suspiciously. "And she kinder thought that some
+advertisin' ought to be done, though they didn't want to spend any money
+doin' it. So I thought I'd help 'em out and s'prise 'em at the same
+time."
+
+"They'll be surprised all right," said Peter, grinning.
+
+"Think so?"
+
+"Sure."
+
+"Guess they'll think my advertisin' scheme's all right."
+
+"Hope so, for your sake," replied Peter, as he returned to his work.
+
+Sam worked industriously during the remainder of the forenoon, and by
+noontime had finished twelve more posters just like the first.
+
+"Mind if I put one of these up on the outside of the store?" he asked,
+as he emerged from the back room with one of the posters carefully held
+up in front of himself.
+
+"Go ahead," said Peter, who was busy and had been bothered enough for
+one morning. Ten minutes later the poster was exposed on the front of
+the store where the public--when it happened that way--could see it. Sam
+was patiently waiting for the first passer-by when Alick Purbeck drove
+up. Alick read the poster through, and then gave a long whistle.
+
+"Well, what you got to say?" asked Sam, who had watched from the doorway
+for the effect of the poster on Alick.
+
+"Reads like a circus; some of your doin's, I'll bet," Alick replied.
+
+"Yes, 'tis; you don't know a good thing when you see it."
+
+"Perhaps not," retorted Alick, "but I know some folks in town that will
+appreciate it. If you knew how much paint you'd got on your face, you'd
+go and stick your head into a bucket of turpentine."
+
+Sam sneered at Alick's remark, but, though he did have some misgivings
+as to how his work would be received, was determined to carry out his
+original plan. Without deigning to look or speak to Alick or Peter, he
+went into the store, filled his mouth with tacks, put a hammer in his
+pocket, took another poster, and went across the street to Mr. Flint's
+church, where he tacked the poster on to the bulletin board over the
+notice of an oyster party.
+
+The opposition of Mr. Flint to the stage in general, and the club
+entertainment in particular, did not occur to Sam. His only thought was
+that the church was a good and conspicuous place for a poster.
+
+Alick Purbeck watched from the doorway when Sam started across the road,
+and when he saw what his object was called Peter.
+
+"See what that blamed fool's doin'," he said.
+
+"He'll get set on so hard some day that he'll know it," was Peter's
+comment.
+
+When the poster was secure in its place, Sam walked slowly backward
+until he reached the middle of the road, where he stopped with his hands
+in his pockets, his head cocked to one side, and viewed his work with a
+critical eye. He had been there but a moment when Doctor Jones drove up,
+and when he saw Sam's peculiar attitude stopped.
+
+"Hello, Sam, what do you see that is so absorbing?" he asked, after
+waiting a moment for Sam to move or speak. In reply Sam waved his hand
+proudly toward the poster on the church.
+
+The doctor looked and read.
+
+"Some of your work?" he asked.
+
+Sam nodded.
+
+"So you are the club's advertising agent?"
+
+"Nope," replied Sam, modestly. "I jest wanted to help 'em out a little."
+
+"Very kind, I'm sure," said the doctor, as he drove away wondering who
+had made the mistake.
+
+When Sam returned to the store he found Alick Purbeck standing in the
+doorway grinning.
+
+"Do you expect to live long, Sam?" asked Alick.
+
+Sam pushed by without replying, went to the back room, rolled up the
+remaining posters, walked out of the store without looking to the right
+or left, and marched off up the road.
+
+By nightfall twelve more of Sam's posters were displayed in as many
+conspicuous places, and before the last one had been tacked up the whole
+town--except the members of the Morning Glory Club--was laughing.
+
+Mrs. Tweedie was furious when Tommy asked if he could go to the "Big
+Show," and poor Ezra, he would have thought it funny had not his wife
+scolded the whole evening just as though he was to blame.
+
+That night, after they were abed, Mrs. Stout told Peter, among other
+things, that he didn't have the sense of a half-grown puppy to let that
+fool of a Sam Billings do such a thing. When she had finished it was
+time for Peter to get up--and he thought so, too.
+
+The Reverend Elijah Flint was in a terrible rage (state of righteous
+indignation). He went to the church as soon as he heard of the outrage,
+tore the offending poster into fragments, and vehemently declared that
+the perpetrator of the crime should be punished to the full extent of
+the law.
+
+And Miss Sawyer, poor Lizzie, she knew that it was her fault, and
+bemoaned her indiscretion in mentioning advertising to Sam Billings. She
+wept all night, and vowed that she would never speak to him again as
+long as she lived.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XVII
+
+More Advertising
+
+
+THE next morning Mrs. Tweedie sent messages by her son Thomas to the
+members of the play committee requesting them to meet at her home that
+afternoon to consider a matter of "distressing importance." At two
+o'clock all of the committee had complied with the request, excepting
+Miss Sawyer, who sent word that she was "indisposed," and she might
+truthfully have added "to come."
+
+"Ladies," Mrs. Tweedie began, solemnly, "yesterday one of the _other
+sex_, an unprincipled creature by the name of Billings, inflicted upon
+our club an irreparable injury. You have seen or at least heard of the
+hideous posters that some time yesterday were put up in a dozen or more
+conspicuous places about town. Furthermore, the sensitive feelings of an
+educated and highly respected citizen have been deeply wounded by this
+act of wantonness--I refer to the Reverend Mr. Flint. One of the posters
+was placed, and remained for several hours, upon the bulletin of his, I
+might say our, church. We all know Mr. Flint's aversion to anything
+pertaining to the stage, yet he has refrained from speaking of our
+entertainment publicly out of regard for the members of his church who
+are interested in the club. What his attitude from now on will be I dare
+not conjecture. As for the miserable villain who is responsible for the
+outrage--words fail to express my feelings."
+
+"Quote Shakespeare," suggested Mrs. Stout.
+
+"This is not the time for jesting, Mrs. Stout," replied Mrs. Tweedie, in
+a tone that would have withered any one but Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Nobody knows it better than I do," she retorted. "I've got reason to be
+as mortified as anybody, because the outlandish work was begun in my
+husband's store. Of course, he ain't to blame, but he ought to have told
+the fool that what he was doin' would make trouble."
+
+"No one attaches any blame upon you or your husband," Mrs. Tweedie
+replied.
+
+"I'm sure," said Mrs. Jones, "that I cannot see how Mr. Stout had
+anything to do with it. It seems to me that it was not done maliciously,
+any way, but more in the spirit of a practical joke."
+
+"Practical meddlesomeness!" snapped Mrs. Stout; "and the man that did
+it was set up to it, in my opinion, by a woman in this club!"
+
+The ladies looked at Mrs. Stout, and then at each other in astonishment.
+
+"Indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie. "If you are so positive pray tell us
+about it."
+
+"Well, I ain't exactly positive," Mrs. Stout began, slowly, "but I guess
+at things sometimes, and come pretty near bein' right, 'specially when
+two and two make four. I ain't a woman that'll hurt anybody's good name
+unless it's been rightly damaged before by theirselves. In this case I
+ain't sure, so I won't mention no names, only say what I think made Sam
+Billin's do what he did." Poor Mrs. Stout, for the first time in her
+life she failed to find the direct path to the point, and wallowed
+helplessly about in a meaningless slough of words. "Well," she
+continued, "I don't seem to be gettin' ahead very fast, but what I
+wanted to say was this: You know that we talked some about advertisin'
+at a meetin' of the committee awhile ago, and decided not to spend any
+money on it, but after the meetin' was over that day one of the ladies
+said to me as we was goin' home that _she_ thought that somethin' ought
+to be done about advertisin'. Now, I think that she, or somebody else
+that thought same as she did, must have talked with Sam Billin's, and
+told him her opinion about advertisin', and he agreed with her, and went
+off and done it."
+
+The ladies were disappointed. The delicious bit of scandal that they had
+anticipated was not forthcoming.
+
+"What you have told us," said Mrs. Tweedie, "is very indefinite."
+
+"It's about as definite as anything I hear at the club, only I didn't
+mention no names--some folks ain't so careful," retorted Mrs. Stout, who
+was angry with herself.
+
+"I'm sure," said Mrs. Jones, "we are just as much in the dark as ever.
+We know what has been done, and who did it, the question is--"
+
+"What are we goin' to do about it?" interrupted Mrs. Stout.
+
+"We owe Mr. Flint an apology," Mrs. Tweedie replied.
+
+"That's easy," said Mrs. Stout, "and don't cost anything."
+
+"The virtue of dutifulness has nothing to do with ease or cost," replied
+Mrs. Tweedie, loftily. "I shall write the letter myself, and assume the
+full responsibility. Now, in regard to the creature that committed the
+crime, shall we take any legal steps?"
+
+"Goodness, no!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, in alarm. "Legal steps cost ten
+dollars apiece, and there's no tellin' where they'll lead to."
+
+Everybody laughed at this remark, and apparently good nature was
+restored.
+
+"It would only mean more advertising," said Mrs. Blake, "and that is
+just what we are objecting to now."
+
+"That's so," replied Mrs. Stout; "we've been advertised worse'n a circus
+or soap; let's hide our bright and shinin' light under a basket for
+awhile."
+
+After the ladies had gone Mrs. Tweedie had only time to scold Fanny,
+give Dora some instructions about dinner, tell Ezra that "If you had a
+woman's club on your hands you would have been insane weeks ago," which
+Ezra thought very likely, when the Reverend Elijah Flint was announced.
+Despite the trials of the previous twenty-four hours, Mrs. Tweedie
+assumed a humble look as she entered the parlour and greeted her
+solemn-visaged pastor.
+
+"I have called, Mrs. Tweedie," he began, after declining to be seated,
+"on a matter of grave importance to our church and myself. Perhaps it
+will not be necessary for me to--"
+
+"I understand, Mr. Flint," she said, with proper gravity.
+
+"Do you fully realize the false position in which our church has been
+placed?" asked the parson, impressively.
+
+"I do, and sincerely regret the unfortunate circumstance."
+
+"Unfortunate," he repeated, as though he did not think the word
+adequate. "Mrs. Tweedie, our church has been defiled, desecrated, by a
+wanton, worthless wretch, and I desire to know whether your club, or any
+member of it, is responsible, even in the slightest degree, for the
+outrage."
+
+"Not to my knowledge," replied Mrs. Tweedie--but she had guessed, with
+Mrs. Stout's assistance.
+
+"I am profoundly relieved to hear you say so," said Mr. Flint, as he
+started toward the door. "Of course, you know my convictions regarding
+the stage?" Mrs. Tweedie bowed affirmatively. "I have refrained from
+expressing myself publicly," he continued, as he stopped with his hand
+on the door-knob, "but since the occurrence of yesterday, I feel that
+it is my duty to announce from the pulpit next Sunday my position in
+regard to the matter. Good afternoon."
+
+As Mrs. Tweedie closed the door on the parson she groaned: "More
+advertising."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XVIII
+
+The Big Show
+
+
+ON the February day appointed for the Morning Glory theatricals, the sun
+shone brightly--all nature was the same, but in Manville the day seemed
+different. Expectancy was in the air, and suppressed excitement in the
+heads of those possessing a bit of yellow pasteboard that entitled them
+to admission to the "Big Show." The men paused often at their work to
+talk of the event, and the women, especially the members of the club,
+forgot their families, their housework--everything except the
+approaching event.
+
+Early in the morning a half-dozen of the club-women were at the hall
+superintending the unloading and disposition of a load of furniture
+which had been collected from the homes of particularly enthusiastic
+members. This unavoidable inconvenience, which usually accompanies other
+preparations for amateur theatricals, was especially necessary in this
+case in order that the barren stage might be properly dressed, and the
+shabby scenery saved from loneliness. The whole club turned out in the
+afternoon, and the hall and stage became a scene of bustling,
+chattering confusion. As the crisis approached Miss Sawyer, as stage
+directress, failed in her attempts to control the situation, and Mrs.
+Tweedie, "the powerful," as she was now called by many, assumed command,
+and became more dignified and dictatorial than ever.
+
+At six o'clock the stage was set for the first scene, and some of the
+ladies were nervously pacing the creaking boards, book in hand,
+muttering their lines, and gesticulating ridiculously in a final
+spasmodic effort. In a corner of the hall Miss Sawyer was murmuring to a
+bunch of withered flowers; in an anteroom Mrs. Stout was being coached
+by Mrs. Jones in the pronunciation of some difficult words, and in a
+corridor Mrs. Thornton was trying to console Mrs. Darling, whose costume
+had not arrived.
+
+The doors were opened to the public at seven o'clock, with Ezra Tweedie
+on guard to take tickets, and his son Tommy to distribute programmes.
+Ezra was smilingly happy because it was the first time for years that he
+had been permitted to do anything in public. He would have missed this
+chance if Mrs. Tweedie could have arranged in any other way to keep in
+touch with the box office. The public was ready when the doors were
+opened, and charged unceremoniously upon Ezra, Tommy, and the lady
+ushers, with pinks in their hair, all of whom had more than they could
+properly do during the next hour. At eight o'clock the hall was filled
+with the "best" people in Manville, and some of the worst--worst,
+perhaps, only because they did not have the price of a seat in the front
+rows. The last person to enter was Sam Billings, who acted as though he
+did not care to have his presence known. Ezra scowled harmlessly as he
+took his ticket. Sam peeked cautiously into the hall, then turned to
+Ezra with a triumphant look and whispered: "Advertisin' pays, don't it?"
+
+Twenty minutes after the time advertised for the performance to begin
+the audience was suddenly hushed to a funereal stillness by Mrs.
+Tweedie's two bells--she would have things shipshape, and succeeded,
+barring the orchestra, which had been found to be too expensive. The
+curtain was encouraged on its ascent by the strains of "My Old Kentucky
+Home," played on the piano by a Miss Bean, a member of Mr. Flint's
+church, who, in a spirit of fashionable recklessness in regard to her
+pastor's opinion, had consented to play. Despite the music, perhaps
+because of it, the curtain balked when half-way up, then stuck fast.
+While the cause of the trouble was being investigated, accompanied by
+the sound of hurrying footsteps and loud whispers from "behind the
+scenes," Miss Bean continued to play "My Old Kentucky Home." When she
+was approaching the end of the piece for the sixth time, the curtain was
+yanked up sufficiently for the audience to get a two-thirds view of the
+stage.
+
+The curtain certainly acted badly, but it was a star in comparison with
+the majority of the performers. It was fully three minutes after the
+curtain was raised before Mrs. Stout, as the Duke in the trial scene
+from the "Merchant of Venice," entered, followed by her "soot" in single
+file. Ten minutes later everybody knew that those who had said that the
+people of Manville would not, or could not, appreciate Shakespeare, did
+not know what they were talking about.
+
+The scene was a decided hit, and was talked about for years afterward as
+the funniest thing that ever happened in Manville.
+
+The balcony scene, from "Romeo and Juliet," which followed, performed by
+Fanny Tweedie as Juliet, and Mrs. Darling, in a rainy-day skirt, as
+Romeo, was more like real acting. It was enjoyed by the audience, but
+not uproariously.
+
+Then came the scene from the "Lady of Lyons" in which Pauline discovers
+that she is the victim of a trick. Fanny and Mrs. Blake played well, but
+Barbara's costume and her appearance caused a murmur of amazement. When
+she spoke, however, the pathos of the conscience-stricken lover rang so
+true that the gaping audience was instantly stilled. For the moment men
+and women alike were fascinated, though not many really approved, and
+for this there was little cause for wonder. Barbara's costume was new to
+Manville, and a surprise even to the club-women. As Fanny Tweedie had
+wished, it was "unexpected;" yet it was worn innocently and with pure
+thought, although that was something difficult for the narrow-minded to
+understand.
+
+The closing feature of the entertainment was the production of Miss
+Sawyer's original play, "Yellow Roses" ("First time on any stage"),
+which withered and died a painless death.
+
+The curtain fell--part way--at eleven-thirty, with the audience "all
+present."
+
+Despite the contrariness of the curtain, the lapses of memory, the long
+waits, and the slowly taken cues, the people of Manville enjoyed the
+"Big Show."
+
+When the audience had gone, Mrs. Stout, with wrinkled forehead, sat at a
+table counting the proceeds as best she could with some one asking every
+moment, "How much did we make?" Many of the ladies looked grave and were
+acting strangely. There was much whispering going on, but it ceased
+suddenly when Barbara and Fanny came from the dressing-room ready to go
+home.
+
+"You're the star, Miss Wallace," called Mrs. Stout, when she saw them.
+Barbara stopped before her and smiled. "And your costume," she
+continued, "was just the sweetest I ever saw."
+
+At that moment Mrs. Tweedie approached, her face showing intense anger.
+
+"What are the receipts, Mrs. Stout?" she asked, sharply.
+
+"I don't know yet," Mrs. Stout replied. "I was just tellin' Miss Wallace
+how much I liked her costume. Did you ever see anything just like it?"
+
+"Never!" thundered Mrs. Tweedie.
+
+"Why, didn't you think it was pretty?" asked Mrs. Stout, in surprise.
+
+"It was indecent!" hissed Mrs. Tweedie, as she glared at Barbara.
+
+Everybody was looking and listening, but, excepting Fanny, too
+astonished to speak.
+
+"Mother, how can you!" she exclaimed, indignantly, but Mrs. Tweedie
+walked quickly into the dressing-room, and slammed the door.
+
+"Well, of all the tigeresses!" gasped Mrs. Stout.
+
+Barbara was stunned. Fanny led her from the building, and on the way
+home tried to make amends for her mother's anger. But Barbara
+understood--the consciousness of her mistake had come like a blow in the
+face. Oh, if Will were only here, she thought. He had written that he
+could not come to the performance, but had sent all sorts of good wishes
+for her success. She needed him now more than she had ever needed a
+friend before.
+
+The Tweedie family, excepting Tommy, argued long and late that night
+concerning Barbara and her costume. Mrs. Tweedie was the minority, but
+she won, and her decision was that Barbara must quit their roof the next
+day.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XIX
+
+The Day After
+
+
+"DID you ever!" exclaimed Mrs. Darling, as she ran into Mrs. Thornton's
+just after breakfast the next morning to finish what she did not have
+time to say the night before.
+
+"You mean Miss Wallace?"
+
+"Yes; did you--"
+
+"Never!"
+
+"I wouldn't have thought she'd dared!" said Mrs. Darling, with a
+sanctimonious look on her pretty face.
+
+"Nor I."
+
+"Wonder what Mrs. Tweedie thinks."
+
+"She was in a rage last night."
+
+"Really?"
+
+"Oh, yes, she was awfully angry."
+
+"_I_ wouldn't have dared to wear such a costume, would _you_?"
+
+"Not for worlds."
+
+"It _was_ pretty, though."
+
+"And she looked terribly stunning."
+
+"Yes, but I'm afraid that there'll be trouble over it in the club."
+
+"Shouldn't wonder a mite."
+
+"Well, I must be going; good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye; if you hear anything--"
+
+"I'll run in; good-bye."
+
+This was a sample of the talk that was going on all over Manville the
+morning after the "Big Show." Masters, mistresses, and maids, all were
+talking; at front doors, back doors, in the parlours, in the kitchens,
+on the corners--everywhere. Few praised--many censured. And poor
+Barbara, it was her name that was on every lip. By night everybody in
+Manville had taken sides for or against her, and, strange to relate,
+more men than women were ready to defend her.
+
+Stout's Grocery was the objective of many of the male population that
+morning. Mr. Blake, the undertaker, was the first to arrive.
+
+"A splendid show, Peter," he said.
+
+"Fine."
+
+"Manville ought to be proud."
+
+"She had."
+
+"Miss Wallace made a great hit, didn't she?"
+
+"Say, wa'n't she great!" replied Peter, enthusiastically.
+
+"She was, and her costume--" Mr. Blake continued, but Peter interrupted
+him.
+
+"Beat 'em all," he said.
+
+"I suppose that some of the stiff-backs are offended," remarked Mr.
+Blake, after a pause.
+
+"What if they be?" asked Peter, indignantly. Just then Doctor Jones came
+in. "Mornin', doctor."
+
+"Good morning," the doctor cheerfully replied.
+
+"Did you go to the show last night, doctor?" asked Mr. Blake.
+
+"Yes, I got there just in time to see Miss Wallace."
+
+"Like her?"
+
+"Well," said the doctor, slowly, "I have always liked her, but now I
+think she's immense. Send our order up early, will you, Peter?" And then
+he hurried out of the store, bumping into Sam Billings, who was coming
+in.
+
+"Hello, Doc," said Sam, familiarly, "what you got to say about the
+show?" The doctor, not caring to listen to a long argument, continued on
+his way without replying.
+
+"Didn't that show beat all creation?" was Sam's greeting as he entered
+the store after his encounter with the doctor. "And did you notice the
+crowd? They can say all they're a mind to 'gainst advertisin', but I say
+it pays. That hall wouldn't have been half-full if I hadn't taken
+hold."
+
+Alick Purbeck came in from the back room in time to hear enough of what
+Sam said to know what he was blowing about.
+
+"Say, Sam, can't you tell us now who put you up to that advertisin'
+scheme?" he asked.
+
+"I dunno's that's any of your business," replied Sam, sulkily.
+
+"No, it ain't," said Alick, "but I happen to know that it kicked up a
+row in the church and the woman's club, and folks do say that it was
+Miss Sawyer that put the idea into your head."
+
+"Well," drawled Sam, "I won't deny that she _said_ somethin', but she
+didn't _do_ nothin'. I'm the only one responsible."
+
+"Just as I thought," said Alick, knowingly. "I knew you'd been hangin'
+round her some this winter."
+
+"Yes, you most always know everything that's goin' on," retorted Sam.
+"Back doors can't keep their mouths shut."
+
+Alick resented this remark, and the resentment was in the form of a
+rotten apple which struck the offender full in the mouth.
+
+"Quit that foolin'," growled Peter, in time to prevent trouble.
+
+At that moment Ezra Tweedie slunk into the store, casting glances of
+fear behind at every step as though some dreadful monster was on his
+trail. He shut the door carefully, then went to the stove, held out his
+hands to be warmed, shivered, and sighed. His face was drawn and white,
+and the telltale circles beneath his eyes told of a sleepless night.
+
+"Mornin', Ezra," said Peter, cordially.
+
+"Good morning, gentlemen," replied Ezra, in a weak voice, as he glanced
+furtively about.
+
+"You're not feeling well, Mr. Tweedie?" inquired Mr. Blake,
+sympathetically.
+
+"No," replied Ezra, "I--I'm slightly indisposed, but nothing
+serious--nothing serious."
+
+"And how is Mrs. Tweedie after all the work she has done?" Mr. Blake
+continued. Ezra shuddered and coughed.
+
+"She is--a--somewhat nervous," he replied, hesitatingly.
+
+"I don't wonder," blurted Sam, "but I guess she's kinder tickled over
+the big hit the show made, ain't she?"
+
+"Oh, yes, yes, but--"
+
+Ezra was spared by the entrance of Deacon Walton, whose opinion at that
+moment was more to be desired than anything that Ezra, in his sorry
+condition, might say.
+
+Urged by Mr. Flint, the deacon had advised his wife to resign from the
+club, which she had done, but when the day of the performance came
+neither the deacon nor his wife could resist the temptation to attend
+and see what it was like. Their presence caused surprise, but they
+seemed to enjoy themselves, and many thought that perhaps Mr. Flint had
+weakened, and had taken that method of showing it. Those present at the
+store that morning felt that an explanation was due, and Sam proceeded
+to "pump."
+
+"How'd you like the show, deacon?" he asked.
+
+"Well," the deacon began, as he drew off his mittens and rubbed his
+hands, "most of it was good, but there was one young woman--" the deacon
+paused and pointed a long bony finger at Mr. Blake. Peter dropped his
+work to listen. "One young woman," the deacon repeated, "who
+was--er--indiscreet in her--er--what she wore."
+
+There was silence for a moment, during which Ezra seemed to shrivel up
+within his overcoat.
+
+"You mean Miss Wallace, I suppose?" said Mr. Blake.
+
+"I do. The morals of the people of Manville have been shocked," replied
+the deacon, solemnly.
+
+"You mean them that's got morals," corrected Sam.
+
+"I mean," retorted the deacon, angrily, "those who are worth
+considering."
+
+Mr. Blake loved an argument, and being the only one present up to the
+deacon's mental calibre, he naturally was the one to make reply.
+
+"I think that you are mistaken there, deacon," he said, quietly. "Here's
+Peter, he saw the performance, so did I, we were not shocked."
+
+The deacon's face reddened.
+
+"I--I meant--er--the--er--church people," he stammered.
+
+"Yes, so I supposed," said Mr. Blake, "but there are people outside of
+the churches who have morals--morals capable of being shocked, too."
+
+"I'll say just this much," replied the deacon. "That young woman did a
+dangerous thing. She has displeased many of our citizens--"
+
+"And their wives," interposed Sam, but the deacon ignored the remark and
+continued:
+
+"We cannot have such performances. The young people will be corrupted,
+the moral tone of our town will fall to the level of the dust. Such a
+thing has never occurred before, and I sincerely trust never will again,
+notwithstanding the approbation of a few men who seem to have nothing
+else to talk about."
+
+"There, deacon," said Mr. Blake, soothingly. "There's no use getting
+angry about it. Miss Wallace's costume was the same as thousands of
+other women have worn in public."
+
+"That don't make it right," snapped the deacon.
+
+"Nor wrong," retorted Mr. Blake.
+
+"We'll see," said the deacon, as he drew on his mittens and started for
+the door. "We'll see when the school committee meets to-night what
+_they_ think about it." There was a triumphant gleam in the deacon's
+eyes when he fired that shot, and while his audience was still in a
+stunned condition from the effect of it he went out.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The morning after, Mrs. Tweedie was still determined on her course, and
+Fanny's continued pleading did not move her. Barbara must go, and the
+angry, narrow-minded woman told her so and gave her reasons immediately
+after breakfast. Barbara had expected to be insulted again, but to be
+turned out on such short notice was incomprehensible.
+
+"You must go to-day," were Mrs. Tweedie's parting words as Barbara
+started for school. "To-day," Barbara repeated to herself as she went
+down the steps. On her way she wondered if it was really as bad as Mrs.
+Tweedie had said. What were others thinking and saying? Her duties that
+day were performed mechanically. Her heart was not in the work, and she
+was glad when school was over, though there was a perplexing task to be
+accomplished before the day was done.
+
+Fanny called for her late in the afternoon, and they started toward home
+together.
+
+"I've got all of your things together, Barbara," said Fanny, trying to
+speak cheerfully. "I thought--mother, you know--" Poor Fanny! it was
+impossible to explain, or smooth over her mother's conduct, and she
+burst into tears. Barbara understood, and instead of being comforted
+turned comforter herself.
+
+"I know that you are my friend, Fanny," she said, as she linked arms
+with the sobbing girl.
+
+"I am, indeed I am," sobbed Fanny. "I don't care what they say, and I
+want to help you." She did not tell Barbara that she had spent hours
+that day in a fruitless search for a boarding-place for her.
+
+"There," said Barbara, when they nearly had reached Mrs. Tweedie's,
+"don't feel badly any longer. I'll send for my things as soon as I find
+a place to stay. And don't worry, Fanny, about me, please, everything
+will come right I know." Fanny kissed her, regardless of whoever might
+be looking, and went home. Barbara hesitated a moment, and then walked
+toward the home of Doctor Jones. When Mrs. Jones came to the door in
+response to the bell she did not ask Barbara to come in.
+
+"Really," she replied when Barbara made known her errand, "there's not a
+spare room in the house."
+
+Of course Barbara understood, and was very sorry. She next called on
+Mrs. Blake, and received the same answer. Mrs. Thornton, Mrs. Darling,
+and Mrs. Browning all refused. No, they did not refuse, they made
+excuses--sugar-coated lies. Barbara was beginning to understand that
+Mrs. Tweedie was not the only one who had turned against her. Darkness
+had fallen without as well as within. Trying to realize her position,
+Barbara walked slowly back toward the village. When near the parsonage
+she stopped, and looked up wistfully at the house and the stream of
+yellow light that shone down the path from a lamp in the parson's study.
+Then she looked across the street toward the church so black and still
+with the steeple rising toward the stars. Barbara hoped that in the
+parsonage she would find a friend with a kind word. She longed to run
+into the house and pour out the wretchedness in her aching heart to
+_his_ mother; to talk of _him_, the one they both loved. Oh, how happy
+she could be under the roof that had sheltered _him_! She went to the
+door and knocked. Mrs. Flint came, but her answer was the same as the
+others, except that there were tears in her eyes when she bade Barbara
+good night. Mrs. Flint would have taken Barbara into her home and heart
+if she had dared, but her husband had paced his study floor all day, and
+was in a terrible mood. Once she had listened for a moment and heard him
+mutter: "The disgrace," and "My son--my son cares for such a woman!" He
+too had guessed Will's secret, and she knew that Barbara would not be
+welcome.
+
+When Barbara left the parsonage she walked aimlessly about the village
+for an hour. The wind came up blustering and cold; she began to feel
+faint, but could think of no other place to go. At last weariness
+overcame her, and hardly knowing where she was, she stopped and leaned
+against a gate-post to rest. Then a strange feeling came over her, she
+tried to resist it and turned to walk on, but staggered for a moment,
+and then fell.
+
+After supper Mrs. Stout had gone into a neighbour's for a moment, and
+when she came scurrying back with a shawl drawn tightly over her head
+and shoulders, she tripped and almost fell over Barbara, who was lying
+in her gateway.
+
+"Goodness!" she exclaimed, as she recovered her balance, and then knelt
+to see who it was. "If it ain't Miss Wallace!"
+
+"Yes," Barbara murmured, as Mrs. Stout helped her to stand and led her
+into the house.
+
+"You poor child," said Mrs. Stout, as she bustled about making Barbara
+comfortable on a couch before the sitting-room fire.
+
+"I had walked a long way and was faint," murmured Barbara, trying to
+explain.
+
+"You ain't had any supper?" asked Mrs. Stout, in surprise. Barbara
+smiled faintly, and shook her head. "Haven't you been to Mis' Tweedie's
+since school?"
+
+"I'm not staying there now," replied Barbara as she turned her face away
+and shuddered.
+
+"You don't mean it!" Mrs. Stout was beginning to grasp the situation,
+and her surprise turned quickly to indignation. "She's put you out,
+that's what she's done, the mean old--"
+
+"No, no," said Barbara, quickly, fearing that Fanny would be included in
+Mrs. Stout's wrath. "She told me this morning--I tried to find a
+place--I had plenty of time, but--"
+
+"Nobody'd take you in," interrupted Mrs. Stout. "They was afraid they'd
+soil their goody-goody hands, I s'pose."
+
+Barbara started to speak, then checked herself and covered her face with
+her hands. "No, you needn't say a word," Mrs. Stout continued, "I know
+what's been goin' on in this town to-day, and somebody besides you has
+got to suffer for it. Now you just lie there and I'll get you somethin'
+to eat." Mrs. Stout went to the kitchen, and, after an absence of a few
+minutes, returned with a tempting lunch and a cup of hot tea. Barbara
+tried to eat, but failed despite Mrs. Stout's kindly intended urging,
+and dropped back wearily on the couch. When Mrs. Stout started to
+remove the tray Barbara looked up at her appealingly.
+
+"You'll let me stay to-night, won't you?" she said, in a choking voice.
+
+"Stay, I guess you can if I have to make up a bed for Peter on the
+floor. Stay just as long as you can stand us," replied Mrs. Stout,
+earnestly. At that moment they heard Peter come in.
+
+"Emmy," he called as he was taking off his coat in the hall.
+
+"Yes," she replied.
+
+"What do you s'pose that damned school committee done to-night?"
+
+Barbara half-raised herself, her face was pale, and the tears glistened
+on her eyelashes. Mrs. Stout hurried to head Peter off, but was too
+late.
+
+"They've discharged Miss Wallace, and--" he stopped abruptly when he
+came into the room and saw Barbara.
+
+"Discharged!" repeated Barbara as though bewildered, and then she
+completely lost control of herself, and wept bitterly. Mrs. Stout knelt
+by her side, and tried to reassure and comfort her, but it was past
+midnight when Barbara ceased to moan, and asked if she could write a
+letter.
+
+Mrs. Stout led the trembling girl to a desk, and assured her that Peter
+would mail the letter, if she wished him to, early the next morning.
+
+Barbara wrote one line:
+
+      "Will, I need you, come.
+                          "BARBARA."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XX
+
+A Sermon
+
+
+ON the Sunday morning following the Morning Glory Club's entertainment,
+the Rev. Elijah Flint arose after a restless night feeling physically
+miserable; but thoughts of the mighty effort that he was to make that
+day caused him soon to forget his bodily condition. Mrs. Flint had gone
+out of town the day before to visit friends. The minister was alone in
+the parsonage--alone with a narrow, stubborn idea. After a meagre
+breakfast of his own getting, he started early for church, eager and
+impatient for the service to begin.
+
+A rumour had spread about town that Mr. Flint was to depart from his
+usual custom on that day and preach an up-to-date sermon. Everybody knew
+what that meant, and everybody--almost--went to church. When Mr. Flint
+went into the pulpit, and turned the leaves of the large Bible in search
+of the morning lesson, he glanced over the large congregation with the
+keenest satisfaction. It never occurred to him that the addition to his
+small flock was made up of victims of morbid curiosity. The idea crept
+into his mind that his opposition to a recent "ungodly performance" had
+brought favour to him and his church, which before had been denied them.
+At last, he thought, after years of unrewarded, unappreciated labour,
+the tide has turned. Poor fool; if "narrowness" and "curiosity" had been
+painted all over his church in letters as tall as himself, God could not
+have grieved more.
+
+When Mr. Flint arose to deliver his sermon the stillness of a tomb fell
+over devout and curious alike, and was preserved to the end. The sermon
+was a general denunciation of the stage, professional and amateur, the
+latter being especially stigmatized. And in reference to a recent local
+performance, and the enormity of the sin of an unnamed young woman who
+wore in public an undescribed costume, the preacher was unscathingly
+bitter and quoted these words: "As a jewel of gold in a swine's snout,
+so is a fair woman which is without discretion." Thus, for an hour, the
+man raved like one insane, and during that time many of his hearers
+became infected with the same malady. They believed every idea that was
+hurled at them, swallowed words whole without tasting to discover
+whether they were sweet or poison. The accuser's vehemence surprised
+some and grieved others, but none of the curious were disappointed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Barbara sat at one of Mrs. Stout's front windows, thoughtful and silent,
+as she watched the people going home from church. Without, the sun was
+shining brightly; within, the leaden cloud still hung over her and grew
+darker without her knowing it. The last cruel blow could not be
+anticipated.
+
+Mrs. Stout had been motherly kindness itself. She had tried in every way
+to lessen the sting of the outrage--to make Barbara forget; but the
+rough, good-hearted woman failed, though her efforts were gratefully
+appreciated. She had urged Barbara to go home, well knowing that
+Manville must be unbearable, but Barbara was waiting for Will. He had
+telegraphed that he would come as soon as possible, but two days had
+gone by since then. Oh, how she longed to see him! He was the only one
+who could comfort and help, and though she did not know how that even he
+could silence the mischievous and careless tongues, she had faith to
+believe that he would.
+
+Have I done wrong? She asked herself a thousand times, and each time the
+answer was "no." Would Will think that she had sinned? The thought was
+torture, but Love and Faith answered the question for her.
+
+Late that afternoon Fanny Tweedie called, and a few minutes afterward
+Mrs. Stout excused herself, and went out wearing a sterner and more
+determined look than her usually jovial countenance was accustomed to.
+Fanny and Barbara talked girl-fashion for an hour. There was some
+laughter, and many tears, but both felt better for it, and the seal of
+their friendship was made secure. Fanny had brought a verbal message
+from her father that pleased Barbara, and cheered her greatly. Poor
+Ezra, he had been fond of her always, and now that she was in such dire
+need of friends he longed to help her, but Mrs. T. stood between him and
+everything--a human, female barrier.
+
+"Is he coming?" Fanny asked, after a long pause in the conversation.
+
+"Will?"
+
+"Yes, of course, there's no other _he_, is there?"
+
+"I have written him to come," Barbara replied.
+
+"Does he know what has--happened?" said Fanny. Barbara shook her head.
+Will did not know exactly what had happened, but he was sure that
+something had gone wrong, and at that moment was speeding toward her in
+response to her tear-stained appeal. "Well," continued Fanny, "I'm
+sorry for some folks when he does find out."
+
+Mrs. Stout would not go to Mr. Flint's church out of curiosity, or for
+any other reason, but she had heard a true report of that morning's
+sermon, and was filled to the bursting point with anger. She thought it
+best to keep the news from Barbara, however, and cautioned Fanny not to
+mention it. But a vent for her feelings she must find, and it was for
+that purpose that she had gone out. She had no definite plan in mind,
+but almost unconsciously walked toward the parsonage. Upon reaching the
+gate she stopped. The house was dark. How she hated it, and the man who
+lived there. Sometime, possibly, she might forgive the women who had
+refused to shelter Barbara, and perhaps the school committee, but the
+minister who had denounced her in the house of God she could never
+forgive. With such thoughts in her mind Mrs. Stout went up the path to
+the door and rang the bell vigorously. It seemed a long time before the
+door was finally opened by Mr. Flint, who held the lamp high in order
+that he could better see his visitor. Mrs. Stout noticed that his face
+was flushed, and that his eyes were unnaturally bright.
+
+"Good evenin', Mr. Flint," she said, coldly.
+
+"Oh, it is Mrs. Stout?" he replied when he heard her voice.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Won't you come in?"
+
+"No, thanks, I can say what I've got to right here."
+
+Mr. Flint placed the lamp on a table. His hand trembled, and as he
+turned he staggered, but caught and steadied himself by grasping the
+door-knob.
+
+"I've come," Mrs. Stout began, "to say somethin' that won't do any good,
+prob'ly, but I want to be sure that you don't think that everybody in
+Manville has got the same ideas as you about some things in pertic'ler."
+
+"I have never entertained that idea," replied the parson.
+
+"Perhaps not, but you might have." Mrs. Stout hesitated for a moment,
+and then her anger broke forth. "Mr. Flint, you made a big mistake this
+mornin'. You said everything that you could say to spoil the good name
+of one of the best women that ever lived. She never did you, or anybody
+else, any harm, but you and all the rest seem bound to drive her away
+with as black a name as you can give her. The women folks wa'n't
+satisfied with kickin' her out of their houses, they must get the school
+committee to discharge her. And then you, a man that is s'posed to show
+folks how to live right, and believe in God, spend a whole Sunday
+mornin' runnin' her down." Mrs. Stout stopped because she was out of
+breath.
+
+"My dear Mrs. Stout," the parson replied, "it is not the woman that I am
+opposed to, but the principles involved and violated, the morals
+offended and endangered. Those susceptible to corruption who--"
+
+"Corruption!" snapped Mrs. Stout. "Do you mean to say that she could
+corrupt anybody in any costume?"
+
+"Well--er--the--er--minds of the young--"
+
+"The young, yes; but how about all those women, most of 'em belonged to
+your church too, that wore such corruption clothes when they all had
+bicycles, and the fever was at its worst?"
+
+"Exercise, Mrs. Stout, excuses--"
+
+"Exercise fiddlesticks! You've got the wrong idea, Mr. Flint, and for
+that reason I s'pose you've done more'n anybody else to disgrace a good
+woman--the one that your son cares more about than--"
+
+"Stop!" cried the parson, feebly, as he raised his hand protestingly.
+
+"I will stop, because I ain't sure about that. But I must say this much,
+that I hope you'll live long enough to repent, though from what I've
+heard, and know about you, you'll have to live to be a hundred. Good
+night." Mrs. Stout turned as abruptly as she had spoken, walked down the
+path and up the road toward the home of Mr. George, the chairman of the
+school committee. Mr. Flint closed the door, returned to his study, and
+sank wearily into a chair. Sick though he was, Mrs. Stout had made him
+realize that there was another side to the question, and he asked
+himself repeatedly, as Barbara had been doing, have I done wrong? And
+the answer was the same. No; he had performed his duty as he saw it--man
+can do no more than that and serve God. But the view-point, there is
+always more than one, and then his mind wandered to the women on the
+bicycles.
+
+Mr. George was at home when Mrs. Stout called, and was delighted to see
+her. He asked her to come in, and she accepted the invitation. She
+afterward explained, when relating the story to Peter, that "I wouldn't
+have gone in only I had so much to say, and Mr. George is so bald I
+didn't want him to catch cold and die, and then be called a murderer by
+his wife."
+
+"Rather unusual to see you on a Sunday evening," said Mr. George,
+cheerfully, when Mrs. Stout was comfortably seated.
+
+"It's an unusual case," she replied, stiffly.
+
+Mr. George raised his eyebrows, and then frowned.
+
+"Indeed," he replied, a little perplexed.
+
+"Don't you think that the school committee was in an awful big hurry
+about dischargin' Miss Wallace?" asked Mrs. Stout, coming to the point
+at once.
+
+"Hem--er--I don't know--I--"
+
+"Well, if you don't, who does?"
+
+"Oh,--er--well, of course I understand the case, if that is what you
+mean. I assure you that it was gone over very thoroughly."
+
+"There ain't any doubt about that," replied Mrs. Stout, with sarcasm.
+"It's been gone over too thoroughly by everybody. Now what I want to
+know is, if Miss Wallace tried to get another place somewhere else
+she'd have to tell where she'd been before, wouldn't she?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And they'd write to you, wouldn't they, about what kind of a woman she
+was, and so forth?"
+
+"It is customary."
+
+"And you'd write back, and tell 'em exactly how she happened to leave
+Manville, wouldn't you?"
+
+"I should consider it my duty to state the truth." Mr. George was
+getting uneasy.
+
+"And she wouldn't get the place."
+
+"Hem--probably not."
+
+"Pretty hard for a woman that's got to earn a livin'. It ain't too late
+for the school committee to take back what it's done, is it?" Mrs. Stout
+continued earnestly.
+
+"No; but--"
+
+"You won't do it. _Now_ I'm comin' to what I've got to say. You
+discharged Miss Wallace without any good reason. You--"
+
+"Mrs. Stout, I protest," interrupted Mr. George. "There was a reason,
+and you know it as well as I do. Her costume at your club's
+entertainment was--"
+
+"Be careful," warned Mrs. Stout.
+
+"It is my custom," replied the committeeman, testily, "to speak with
+caution of one woman to--another woman."
+
+"If you'd be as considerate when talkin' to men about one woman in
+pertic'ler there wouldn't have been any need of my comin' here
+to-night."
+
+"Yes--hem--well, as I was about to say, she was--er--indiscreet,"
+stammered Mr. George.
+
+"That's what they all say," said Mrs. Stout, scornfully. "I s'pose it
+would have been all right if she'd worn a bathin'-suit. If Miss Wallace
+was indiscreet, what would you call your two girls when they went in
+bathin' down to Horse Shoe Beach last summer at the Sunday-school picnic
+before half the folks in Manville? Miss Wallace's costume wa'n't half as
+indiscreet as a wet bathin' suit is."
+
+"Custom, Mrs. Stout, excuses many things," replied Mr. George, his face
+very red.
+
+"Custom is often a mean excuse for not doin' right," retorted Mrs.
+Stout. "Because it's been the custom since the year one for men to get
+drunk, and women's tongues to wag about other folkses business, does
+that make it right?"
+
+Mr. George was silenced--completely out of action, and sat staring at
+his inquisitor, wondering what would come next.
+
+"Mr. George," Mrs. Stout continued, "I'm goin' into politics next fall.
+The law of this State only lets a woman vote for school committee, but
+in this case that's enough. That's all I've got to say, I guess, just
+now. If you should make up your mind to take Miss Wallace back I wish
+you'd let me know." With a glance of contempt at the man before her,
+Mrs. Stout left her chair, and started for the door. Mr. George
+followed, mechanically opened the door, and when she had gone out,
+closed it softly.
+
+Mrs. Stout felt relieved, but not satisfied, after the two calls that
+she had made, and as she walked slowly homeward, planned the campaign
+that was to defeat Mr. George and his colleagues at the next election.
+But her dreams of political victory were quickly dispelled when she
+reached home. Barbara and Fanny were in tears.
+
+"Well, well, what's happened now?" she asked.
+
+"I--I told her about the sermon," sobbed Fanny. "But I didn't intend to,
+really I didn't, Mrs. Stout."
+
+"Well, she'd better hear it from her friends than somebody else," said
+Mrs. Stout, soothingly. "Secrets never do any good, anyway."
+
+"I ought to know it," said Barbara. "Oh, what a wicked, wicked woman
+they think I am!" she moaned.
+
+"But you're not, indeed you're not," cried Fanny as she impulsively
+threw her arms about Barbara and kissed her.
+
+"There, there," said Mrs. Stout, "cryin' won't help--hark!" Some one ran
+up the steps, and set the door-bell to jingling furiously.
+
+"Goodness! who can that be?" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as she started for
+the door. Barbara sprang to her feet. Her hair was disarranged, her
+cheeks were wet with tears, there was a look of longing in her eyes, and
+on her lips trembled a smile.
+
+"Why, Willie Flint!" they heard Mrs. Stout exclaim. Barbara did not
+move, but Fanny tiptoed from the room. There was a heavy step in the
+hall. At the sound Barbara took a step forward.
+
+"Will, Will!" she cried, as he came into the room.
+
+In a moment his arms were about her, and then some one closed the door
+softly.
+
+"Did I do wrong, Will?" Barbara asked an hour later when she had
+finished the story of the past week, omitting only the miserable part
+that his father had played.
+
+"No, Barbara," he replied, and she was satisfied. But Will was not
+satisfied. He had walked up from the station with some one who had told
+him of his father's sermon, not knowing that Barbara was more to him
+than an acquaintance.
+
+"And father, what has he done?" he asked, gravely.
+
+Barbara looked up quickly, started to reply, but Will continued before
+the words came.
+
+"Do _you_ know what he did to-day?"
+
+"Yes," replied Barbara, faintly, "but--"
+
+"And mother, have you seen her?" (What would she not have given to spare
+him that?) "Why did you not go to her?" Will was determined to know all.
+
+"I--I did," Barbara faltered.
+
+"When?"
+
+"Will, dear, please don't ask me. I'm sure that she would have helped me
+if--"
+
+"She refused to take you in?"
+
+"Yes, but Will, don't judge them, please. I am sure that your father
+thought he was doing right and--"
+
+"Yet he preaches of Christ."
+
+"Will!"
+
+"God seems to have forgotten Manville," he said, bitterly.
+
+"No, Will, he is only showing us the way--and the others too."
+
+"How can you say that, Barbara, when they've taken everything from you,
+position, name--"
+
+"Everything but you, Will," she interposed, lovingly. It was growing
+late, the lamp was burning low and sputtering. Mrs. Stout knocked at the
+door, and to Will's response came into the room.
+
+"Excuse _me_," she said, "but I forgot to fill that lamp to-day, and--"
+
+"All right, Mrs. Stout," Will laughingly interrupted, "I understand, I'm
+going in a moment."
+
+"'Deed you ain't goin' a step," replied Mrs. Stout, determinedly. "I've
+got a room all fixed for you, and I don't want to hear one identical
+word about _not_ stayin'."
+
+While Mrs. Stout went for another lamp, there was time for Barbara to
+give Will the answer that he had striven for--and won.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXI
+
+An Angel of Mercy
+
+
+EARLY the next morning Will started for the parsonage. On the way he
+wondered if misunderstanding and contention would stand between him and
+his father now, as it had in the past, even though a woman's name was in
+the balance.
+
+On arriving at the house and attempting to open the door, Will
+discovered that he did not have his keys with him. He rang the bell, but
+no one answered. A second and a third ring in rapid succession proved
+equally unsuccessful. Then he went to the back door and knocked
+heavily--still no response. On the way back to the front door he looked
+in at a window, but could see no one. Will was surprised and
+disappointed. He knew of his mother's absence, but could not understand
+why his father was not there at that time in the morning. He gave the
+front door-bell a final ring, waited several minutes, and then started
+off toward the home of school committeeman George.
+
+As he was passing Stout's Grocery, Sam Billings, who was standing in the
+doorway, waved his hand and called:
+
+"Hello, Billy."
+
+"Hello, Sam," Will replied without stopping.
+
+"I thought you'd be 'round here 'fore long. Lively times," Sam shouted,
+but Will made no reply. He met many friends and acquaintances that day
+who looked curiously at him as he greeted them and hastened by. He had
+no inclination for idle talk, nor time; there being so much serious work
+to be done, and only a day for its accomplishment, as it was necessary
+for him to return to the city that night.
+
+When Will walked into Mr. George's office that morning, that gentleman
+had not fully recovered from the effects of Mrs. Stout's visit of the
+night before. And when Will had concluded his remarks he felt about as
+mean and frightened as a narrow-minded man can feel.
+
+Will called next on the other members of the school committee, the
+editor of the local paper, in which much had been insinuated concerning
+Barbara, and the deacons of his father's church. At noon he returned to
+Mrs. Stout's, and when Barbara asked him where he had been, smilingly
+replied, "Calling on our friends."
+
+In the afternoon Will gave his time and attention to the prominent
+ladies of the town,--Mrs. Tweedie, Mrs. Blake, Mrs. Jones, Mrs.
+Darling, and several others. He was extremely courteous to the ladies,
+but when he had finished, many of them knew what he would have said, and
+how he would have said it, if they had happened to be men.
+
+Toward night, when on his way back to Mrs. Stout's, Will stopped again
+at the parsonage, and found it, as in the morning, apparently deserted,
+and concluded that his father had gone away for the day, perhaps to join
+his mother.
+
+"Well," said Mrs. Stout as she opened the door for him, "feel any
+better?"
+
+"Yes; but I doubt if I've done Barbara any good," he replied.
+
+"It's satisfyin', though, to tell folks what you think of 'em," chuckled
+Mrs. Stout.
+
+Will laughed, and went to meet Barbara.
+
+"Been scolding all the afternoon?" she asked.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Whom?"
+
+Will named the ladies on whom he had called. Mrs. Stout was greatly
+pleased, especially when he spoke of Mrs. Tweedie, but Barbara looked
+grave.
+
+"What did you say to them, Will?" she asked when he had finished.
+
+"Something that they will never forget," he replied.
+
+"And what did they say to you?" asked Mrs. Stout, curiously.
+
+"Everything except the right thing."
+
+"Made all kinds of excuses, I s'pose, but just wait till the next
+meetin' of the club; if I don't make a speech that'll make 'em feel like
+a piece of worn-out carpet, it'll be because I'm struck dumb before I
+get a chance," said Mrs. Stout, vigorously, and then started for the
+kitchen to get supper.
+
+"Have you seen your father, Will?" Barbara asked a moment later.
+
+"No; but I have been to the house twice. Perhaps it is best. I hope to
+be in a better mood when I come down next week."
+
+"When you do see him, please try to forget me, just think of him, and
+speak to him as your father."
+
+"If you wish--"
+
+"No, Will, because it is right--for your own sake," she pleaded, and he
+promised.
+
+Between supper and train-time there was an opportunity for Barbara and
+Will to make again the vows of lovers. They forgot the time, the
+train--everything except each other; but, fortunately, Mrs. Stout did
+not, and when the time came, warned them that further delay was out of
+the question by coughing just outside the door, with an effort that was
+ridiculous, and asking them if they knew what time it was. Barbara, who
+was to accompany Will to the railroad station, ran to put on her things,
+and Will called to Mrs. Stout to come in, which she did.
+
+"I can't thank you enough for your kindness," said Will, grasping her
+hand. "If it hadn't been for you, I don't know what Barbara would have
+done."
+
+"Oh, nonsense, I guess somebody'd come along if I hadn't," replied Mrs.
+Stout.
+
+"But she had been to several somebodies."
+
+"Well, I don't see how I could have done any different," said Mrs.
+Stout, modestly.
+
+"Bless you for it, Mrs. Stout, I can never forget."
+
+"Bless you again, and again," added Barbara, who came into the room at
+that moment, and emphasized her blessing with a kiss on Mrs. Stout's
+red, fat cheek. As they were going down the steps, Will turned and
+called, "Good-bye."
+
+"Good-bye," came a yell from three lusty young throats.
+
+"Good-bye, boys," laughed Will, with a wave of his hand to the three
+youngsters, who had stolen unawares into the hall behind their mother.
+
+"You scamps!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as she shut the door, and "shooed"
+them back up-stairs.
+
+For a moment Barbara and Will were silent.
+
+It was a beautifully still night, the air was clear and cold--just such
+a night as the one on which the sleigh-ride accident had occurred, but
+so much had happened since then that neither thought of it.
+
+"When are you going home, Barbara?" Will asked, suddenly.
+
+"Very soon, in a day or two, probably."
+
+"And when--when shall we be--" Will hesitated. "Married" is a difficult
+word to speak sometimes, but it came after a moment, and manfully.
+
+"I am ready, Will, when you are," Barbara replied. At that moment they
+heard the pounding of a horse's hoofs, and the sound of sleigh-bells,
+coming furiously toward them. They stopped to listen, and as the sound
+came nearer, Will, thinking that it was a runaway, started into the
+road, but Barbara clung to his arm and held him back. Love is selfish
+sometimes, and has a right to be. As the team rushed by, they saw that
+it was Doctor Jones.
+
+"A race--perhaps with death," said Will, as they walked on. Barbara
+shuddered.
+
+The train was late, and while waiting, Barbara and Will slowly paced the
+dimly lighted platform. When at last the warning shriek of the engine on
+the approaching train came through the still night air, they stopped in
+their walk, and with clasped hands watched the glaring headlight as it
+rapidly neared them. The station-master, lantern in hand, emerged from
+his warm office and shivered when he felt the cold air, but he did not
+see the man and woman who stood near.
+
+"Have courage," said Will, as the train stopped.
+
+"And faith," Barbara whispered, as he turned to leave her. A moment more
+and he was gone. She watched until the red lights on the rear of the
+train had disappeared, then slowly walked toward Mrs. Stout's. In
+returning she went by a different road, one that would take her by the
+parsonage. The way was lonely, but she did not notice, and deserted
+until she approached the home of Mr. Flint, with the black church
+looming across the way. A horse and sleigh were standing by the side of
+the road, and near the gate two men, one with a red lantern, were
+talking earnestly. As Barbara drew nearer she saw that the red light had
+been improvised by tying a red handkerchief around an ordinary lantern,
+and recognized the men by their voices as Doctor Jones and Sam Billings.
+
+"I can't find a man or a woman who will come," she heard the doctor say.
+
+"He's a mighty sick man, and--" said Sam, but Barbara interrupted him.
+
+"Who?" she asked. The two men had not heard her approach, and when she
+spoke they were startled and instinctively stepped back. Barbara
+misunderstood their action, and a feeling of bitter resentment arose
+within her, as she started to hasten by.
+
+"Oh, is it Miss Wallace?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes," Barbara replied.
+
+"I beg your pardon, Miss Wallace," said the doctor, quickly, "it is not
+you of whom we are afraid, but Mr. Flint is dangerously ill, and has
+been lying in his study unattended since yesterday; Sam, here, made the
+discovery to-night. Mrs. Flint is away. I sent for her, but received
+word that she is sick too, and I can't find any one to take care of
+him. Has Will gone?"
+
+"Yes; but what is the--what is Mr. Flint's trouble?" Barbara asked, and
+looked wonderingly at the red lantern.
+
+The doctor knew that Barbara's courage was good, he remembered how
+fearlessly she had worked during the epidemic of diphtheria, early in
+the winter, yet he hesitated now before answering her question.
+
+"Why don't you tell me?" said Barbara, impatiently. "What is it?"
+
+"Smallpox," replied the doctor.
+
+It was Barbara's turn to shrink from them.
+
+"And no one to nurse him?" she asked.
+
+"No; and that is what he needs more than anything else," said the
+doctor.
+
+"There must be some one--are they afraid?"
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"But if you cannot get some one--"
+
+"His chance for life is nothing."
+
+"He must not lie there alone and suffer!" Barbara cried, as the horror
+of the situation became more deeply impressed on her mind. The three
+were silent for a moment. Each was trying to think of some one who was
+competent, and willing to do the work.
+
+"I know who will do it," said Barbara, suddenly.
+
+"Who?" the doctor asked, eagerly.
+
+"I will," Barbara calmly replied.
+
+"No!" exclaimed the doctor and Sam together.
+
+"I must," she replied, firmly.
+
+"But you have been worried, you are in no condition to undertake such
+work," the doctor pleaded. "Think of the risk, and the work, day and
+night for days, perhaps weeks."
+
+"Will it be any harder to bear than what I have already borne?" she
+asked. The men were silent. "Please send word to Mrs. Stout, and--I will
+go in now." She turned to go, but stopped when the doctor spoke.
+
+"You may save him, but you will sacrifice yourself. Why should you do
+that for the man who--"
+
+"Please, doctor, do not remind me of what he has done--I have tried to
+forget."
+
+"Pardon me," said the doctor, who saw that she was determined. "Sam will
+be here outside to get anything that you may need. I shall call in the
+morning."
+
+Barbara walked up the path to the door of the parsonage. The two men
+watched, and, accustomed as the doctor was to scenes of suffering,
+sacrifice and death, there were tears in his eyes.
+
+"She's an angel," muttered Sam.
+
+"Courage, faith," was Barbara's whispered prayer as she opened the door
+of the pest-stricken house and went in.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXII
+
+Many Minds Change
+
+
+THE next morning the people of Manville had something really new and
+startling to talk about. When it first became known that Mr. Flint had
+been stricken with that most dreaded and loathsome disease, smallpox,
+everybody tried to remember the most recent time that they had been near
+him. Many who had attended his church on the previous Sunday felt that
+they were doomed. Others equally superstitious thought that they and Mr.
+Flint were to be punished in this way by a wrathful God for the
+persecution of an innocent woman. All sorts of crazy, silly talk was
+indulged in, but through it all Barbara's praises were sung, though few
+seemed to understand fully why she had sacrificed herself. Their minds
+were too narrow, their world too small, to appreciate such service.
+
+The red flag by day, the lantern by night, and Sam Billings all the time
+on the steps of the parsonage, were objects of curious interest. Many
+went far out of their way in order to pass by--on the opposite side--and
+Sam was kept busy all day yelling answers to volleys of questions. But
+he was equal to the task and enjoyed it. For the time being he was the
+only person in town of any consequence, the centre of all interest, the
+only one to answer questions, and he was being paid for it.
+
+At Stout's Grocery, the proprietor, Alick Purbeck, and undertaker Blake
+were loud and sincere in their praise of Barbara.
+
+"She's the right kind," said Alick, enthusiastically.
+
+"There's not a woman in town her equal," added Mr. Blake.
+
+"Right," said Peter, "exceptin'--"
+
+"Of course, exceptin'--" Alick smiled.
+
+"Excepting our own beloved," Mr. Blake finished for them.
+
+"What are the chances of the smallpox spreadin', Mr. Blake?" asked
+Alick.
+
+At the suggestion of an epidemic, the undertaker unconsciously rubbed
+his hands together in a businesslike manner.
+
+"Can't tell yet," he replied. "I have no idea where Mr. Flint got it.
+This part of the country has been remarkably free from it this winter.
+Perhaps there won't be another case."
+
+"I hope not," said Alick. "If Mr. Flint gets well, he'll have to take
+back some things that he's said, won't he?"
+
+"And some other folks, too," added Peter.
+
+"They're beginning to change their minds, already," Alick continued.
+"Half a dozen women told me this mornin' that all this fuss has been
+about somethin' that wa'n't half as bad as 'twas made out to be; and I
+told 'em that some folks did change their minds about as often as they
+opened their mouths."
+
+"Did you say that to customers?" asked Peter, who always had an eye and
+ear to business; but at that moment, Mr. George, the school
+committeeman, came in, and temporarily saved the talkative clerk from
+the censure that he justly deserved.
+
+"Mornin', Mr. George," said Alick, who was grateful for his timely
+appearance. Peter grunted some unintelligible greeting, while Mr. Blake
+bowed stiffly and turned away. Alick wanted to make Mr. George
+uncomfortable as soon as possible, and came to the point at once, by
+asking, "Hear the news?"
+
+"News, what news?" queried Mr. George.
+
+Alick was something of an actor, and to further perplex the school
+committeeman, dropped the measure of potatoes that he was holding, and
+stared at him in astonishment.
+
+"You ain't heard!" he gasped, after a pause of appropriate length.
+
+"If you've got anything to say--say it," snapped Mr. George,
+impatiently.
+
+"Mr. Flint--" Alick began, but Mr. George interrupted him.
+
+"Not dead!" he exclaimed, as he turned toward the undertaker, and a look
+of dread spread over his face.
+
+"No," replied Alick, slowly, "at least he wa'n't the last I heard,
+but--"
+
+"Out with it, tell me!" demanded Mr. George.
+
+"He's got the smallpox," said Alick, quietly.
+
+Mr. George was wholly unprepared for the shock. His nerves had been so
+seriously irritated of late, that the distressing news concerning his
+beloved pastor almost unmanned him. Without giving his victim time to
+recover, Alick continued: "But that ain't the best part of it."
+
+"The best part of it!" repeated Mr. George, in amazement. "What do you
+mean by that?"
+
+"I mean," said Alick, gleefully, "that they couldn't get anybody to take
+care of him until Miss Barbara Wallace came along, and, without being
+asked, took her life in her hands and stepped in where nobody else
+_dared_ to go."
+
+If Alick had struck him in the face, Mr. George could not have been more
+surprised. "You see," Alick went on, "there's _somethin' good_ about
+her, after all."
+
+"No doubt--no doubt," coughed Mr. George, in a dazed sort of way. "I
+must look into the matter. Very commendable, certainly." With that he
+backed out of the store.
+
+"The old hard-shelled stiff-back," muttered Alick, as he shook his fist
+in the direction of the door.
+
+"You've given him something to think about," said Mr. Blake.
+
+As Mr. George walked toward the home of Mr. Flint, he summed up his
+chances for reëlection, and found them very slim. When he arrived at the
+parsonage, or, rather, the farthest point from it to which he thought
+Sam Billings's voice would carry, he stopped and gazed upon the modest
+dwelling and its gaudy decoration. Sam spied him, and hailed him
+gleefully. Mr. George asked for details, and got them wonderfully
+elaborated by Sam's imaginative mind.
+
+When Sam had finished his story he began asking impertinent
+questions--questions that made the school committee-man's conscience
+turn somersaults as he walked quickly away. Later in the day he drove
+about town, and notified the members of the school committee that there
+would be a special meeting that evening.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+That afternoon there was an especially-special meeting of the Morning
+Glory Club, at the home of Mrs. Blake. The club-women knew that the
+meeting had been called for the purpose of expelling Barbara Wallace
+from the club, and to take some action in regard to making public the
+fact that the club was not in any way responsible for the costume that
+she had worn in the theatricals, and many other harsh and terrible,
+though very indefinite things, but Barbara had unknowingly frustrated
+their plans.
+
+A moment after the members had been called to order, a motion to adjourn
+was made and carried, and then they settled themselves for a delightful
+afternoon talking it over. Mrs. Tweedie appeared to be deeply affected
+by Barbara's brave act. "We may have misjudged Miss Wallace," she
+admitted, and then she talked about "atonement" and many other things
+about which none of us know but little. She tried to explain why she
+had turned Barbara out by admitting that she was vexed at the time, and
+only had meant that she expected her to find another boarding-place as
+soon as possible. "Indeed, how could I do otherwise in view of the
+unpleasant circumstances? And when she did not return that night at the
+usual time, no one could imagine my surprise."
+
+"And I have no doubt," said Mrs. Jones, when Mrs. Tweedie had said all
+that she could to put herself on the right side, "not the slightest, but
+that Miss Wallace misunderstood me. Of course, I was not wholly in
+sympathy with her, but I really would not have refused, had I a room to
+spare." Mrs. Jones wiped away two tears which opportunely came to her
+eyes, caused, however, not by an excess of emotion, but by a cold in her
+head.
+
+"True," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "we all have been cruelly misquoted,
+misunderstood, and misjudged."
+
+Poor Mrs. Tweedie; poor, unfortunate Morning Glories. Now that Barbara
+must be vindicated, they wanted to pose as martyrs themselves.
+
+"Did Mr. Flint--Will Flint I mean--call on any of you ladies
+yesterday?" asked Mrs. Thornton, after all had explained, to their own
+satisfaction, why they had treated Barbara as they had.
+
+An impressive silence followed. Mrs. Stout snickered, despite her
+determination to hold her peace until the others were talked out.
+
+"Really," began Miss Sawyer, "I must confess that he called on me." Upon
+that others admitted that they, too, had been honoured.
+
+"What did he say to you, Miss Sawyer?" asked Mrs. Darling, eagerly.
+
+"He said a great deal, and was very much in earnest. He has changed
+greatly since I last--"
+
+"Yes, indeed he has," interrupted Mrs. Thornton. "He's quite
+good-looking now."
+
+"And," continued Miss Sawyer, "he spoke of the honour of a woman as
+being the most sacred thing, and--oh, he said so much in such a short
+time, and was so gentlemanly, that one could forgive him for saying
+anything." Miss Sawyer spoke rapidly, and when she had finished was
+blushing crimson.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed the ladies in chorus, and then they laughed at Miss
+Sawyer's discomfiture.
+
+"He _did_ make an impression on you, Miss Sawyer," simpered Mrs.
+Darling. "And was he as agreeable to you, Mrs. Tweedie?" the shallow
+young matron asked, meaningly, as she smiled on "the powerful." Mrs.
+Tweedie looked uncomfortable.
+
+"The young man called," she replied, solemnly, "but our conversation was
+of a confidential nature."
+
+No one ever knew just what Will did say to Mrs. Tweedie, but some
+guessed that his remarks to her were made more after the manner of the
+"_other sex_" than they were to the other women.
+
+"I have heard," said Mrs. Blake, after a lull in the conversation, "that
+he was very violent with Mr. George."
+
+"Oh, yes," piped Mrs. Browning, "he struck him, and threatened to shoot
+him if he didn't have Miss Wallace reinstated."
+
+"And I haven't a doubt but what he'd do it," said Mrs. Thornton.
+
+"I wonder if they're really engaged. Has anybody heard?" asked Mrs.
+Darling, who loved the affairs of lovers almost as much as she loved
+herself.
+
+"Why don't you ask one of 'em?" said Mrs. Stout, abruptly. "That's
+about the only thing that any of you don't seem to be sure about."
+
+Mrs. Darling's cheeks flushed slightly, but she wisely refrained from
+replying. "Perhaps some of you have noticed that I ain't said much
+to-day," continued Mrs. Stout, "and I want to tell you that one reason
+is because I've learned a lesson about talkin' too much from the woman
+that you've been talkin' about. But there's one or two things that I've
+just got to say. There's been a lot said about bein' misunderstood, and
+such. What was said about Miss Wallace was plain enough when it was
+said. What was done--was done; but there ain't one woman, not a livin'
+one, that's said, or done, one thing to make good the harm they've done
+her--except to stop sayin' bad things. That's somethin', but it ain't
+enough; now she's tryin' to save the life of the man that did more than
+anybody else to take away her good name, and riskin' her own life doin'
+it. You all know better than you did before what kind of a woman she is.
+Now, I ain't goin' to say all of the hard things that I was goin' to
+say, and wanted to say, but what I want to know is, what are we, this
+club, goin' to do to show her that we made a mistake and are sorry, and
+by doin' it show everybody that we ain't a set of mean, narrow-minded
+women?"
+
+"What would you suggest?" Mrs. Tweedie calmly asked.
+
+"Well," replied Mrs. Stout, "we can never pay her in any way for the
+wrong that's been done her, but we can show her that we'd like to. I
+move that we send a letter to the school committee, and every mother's
+son of us sign it, askin' them to give Miss Wallace back her school, and
+say that we know her to be a woman with a character as good as
+anybody's, and better than most folks, and that we believe she's been in
+the right in everything that she's said or done since we've known her.
+If the motion don't go, it's more'n likely that I shall forget my good
+resolution about not sayin' things." Mrs. Stout sat down, utterly out of
+breath, and mopped her face while a slight murmur of surprise ran about
+the room. The motion was seconded, and the question put without debate.
+
+"It is a unanimous vote," Mrs. Tweedie announced. Mrs. Stout smiled. She
+well knew that some of them hated to do it, but they wanted to be on the
+popular side, and this time it happened to be right.
+
+"Well," she said, quizzically, as she looked about at the comically
+sad-faced women, "I must say that you're the glumist lookin' lot of
+mornin' glories I ever see."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXIII
+
+Coals of Fire
+
+
+BARBARA'S new task as nurse and housekeeper at the parsonage was not an
+easy one, but after the second day she had everything in good
+order--everything except her patient. For him there was little
+hope--Barbara knew, and Mr. Flint himself knew.
+
+When the minister first saw her after he had been lying alone for hours
+his only thought was that she had come to demand something. He had
+publicly denounced her; she had been turned away from his door; what
+could she have come for except revenge?
+
+"I have come to take care of you, Mr. Flint," was all that she had said,
+but it was enough to reassure him.
+
+Barbara's work had taken her into all of the rooms in the house in
+search of one thing or another. The first day she had opened the door of
+_his_ room--Will's. She had only taken a step when she discovered whose
+room it was, and knew that what she was looking for would not be found
+there. She could not resist the temptation, however, to glance about the
+room. There were his books, and his fishing-rods and tackle; his
+shotgun stood in a corner, and near a window was an old-fashioned
+writing-table. It was a boy's room--_his_ room. Barbara feasted her eyes
+for a moment, and then, remembering her patient, stepped back into the
+hall, and softly closed the door.
+
+Hanging on the wall, opposite the foot of Mr. Flint's bed, in an oval
+frame of black walnut, was a photograph of Will. The picture was a
+likeness of a sturdy little chap of three, with large, staring eyes, fat
+cheeks, and long curls. Barbara looked at it often; Mr. Flint, too,
+often looked at the picture, but only when Barbara was not in the
+room,--while she was there his eyes followed her constantly. There was
+something about her, and what she was doing for him, that he, in his
+condition, could not understand. They talked but little. Once Mr. Flint
+began to speak of his notorious sermon, but Barbara quickly stopped him.
+
+Sam Billings had been hired by the board of health to maintain
+quarantine on the parsonage, though the fear of the people of Manville
+made it almost unnecessary except for the sake of appearances. The
+weather was mild, and when not engaged in a noisy conversation with some
+one across the road, Sam sat on the steps, or paced the path to the
+gate. Through Sam and Doctor Jones was the only means Barbara had of
+communicating with the world, but just then she had little use for the
+world or many in it. Sam afforded her some amusement, however, when she
+went to the door for a breath of fresh air.
+
+"I tell you, Miss Wallace," he said, one morning, "folks have changed
+their minds about you."
+
+"That is a right we all have," Barbara smilingly replied.
+
+"They all think that you're a heroine now."
+
+"I am sure of one good friend in you, Mr. Billings." The "Mr." pleased
+Sam greatly--it was seldom used as a prefix to his name.
+
+"You're jest right about that," Sam grinned. He liked Barbara and her
+smile immensely. When she had gone in and closed the door he reflected
+that, if he were younger, and knew more, and had a steady job, and Billy
+Flint was not in love with her and she with him, why, he would put _his_
+best foot forward.
+
+"Has any word come from Will?" Mr. Flint asked, on the afternoon of the
+second day.
+
+"No," Barbara replied; "but I know that we shall hear to-day."
+
+The sick man turned restlessly.
+
+"I must see him," he moaned; "there is something that I must say to him,
+and to you--Barbara." He hesitated before speaking her name--it was the
+first time he had called her that.
+
+"But, Mr. Flint," remonstrated Barbara, in alarm, "he cannot come here,
+he must not put himself in danger; besides, there will be plenty of time
+when you are well again."
+
+"That time may not come. I must tell him before it is too late."
+
+"But not at the risk of his life. Is not his life more to you--and to
+me--than our own?"
+
+"Yes," was the feeble reply, and then he muttered: "My miserable life."
+
+"There," said Barbara, soothingly, "we have talked more than is for your
+good." She started to leave the room, but he held out his hand
+appealingly.
+
+"Wait," he said. "If I cannot tell him I must say it to you. I have
+guessed the secret, yours and Will's. It was that more than anything
+else that made me preach as I did. From childhood to manhood I fear I
+have wronged him. I was narrow--blind. I have wronged you, too, and yet
+you came to save me. For Will's sake forgive me, Barbara, and if I
+never see him again tell him that I lived to realize my sin, tell him
+that I have suffered--" The minister stopped abruptly and listened.
+There was a quick step in the hall below. Barbara turned quickly toward
+the door, and Mr. Flint dropped his outstretched hand. Some one was
+running up the stairs. Barbara half-guessed the truth and was transfixed
+with horror.
+
+"Will!" she screamed, as he appeared in the doorway. "Don't come in--go
+quick--think of the danger!"
+
+Mr. Flint had half-raised himself, and was staring at his son with a
+look of agony on his face.
+
+"In God's name, Will, go! Your life--"
+
+Will calmly raised his hand as though to command silence.
+
+"Danger, my life?" he said, and then smiled as he took Barbara's hands
+in his own. "Your life is my life, Barbara."
+
+"And mine," groaned the sick man.
+
+"Yes, and yours, father," replied Will, as he went to the bed and looked
+into his father's eyes. "I'm sorry to find you this way, but I have good
+news of mother. She is better, except for worrying about you and wanting
+to come." A sob from Barbara caused Will to turn quickly and clasp her
+in his arms, and as he wiped away the tears and kissed her, he saw the
+worry and work written on her face.
+
+"I have come to help, Barbara," he said. She understood and blessed him
+for it, but until all danger was passed she prayed unceasingly for his
+safety.
+
+That evening Sam Billings was dozing on the front steps when Will opened
+the door without thinking that Sam was not aware of his presence in the
+parsonage.
+
+"Hello, Sam," he said.
+
+Sam was so startled that he almost fell down the steps. When he had
+recovered his balance he stood up, rubbed his eyes, and stared.
+
+"Well, I'm blamed if it ain't Billy Flint!" he exclaimed. "How'd you get
+in?"
+
+"By the back door; I knew that you would make a fuss if I tried to get
+in this way."
+
+"Ain't you takin' big chances?"
+
+"I'd be taking bigger ones if I stayed away."
+
+Sam mentally concluded that Will knew what he was talking about, though
+he could not understand it himself.
+
+"What'll folks say?" he blurted.
+
+Will's face grew dark with anger.
+
+"What will they say?" he asked, quickly. "What do I care what they say?
+What can they say that will be worse than what has been said?"
+
+Sam backed down the steps. He had blundered, and feared Will's wrath.
+
+"Of course, I didn't mean--" he stammered.
+
+"Never mind," interrupted Will, "I have an errand for you to do. Go to
+the town clerk, and get a blank application for a marriage license."
+
+"A--a what?" gasped Sam.
+
+"I'm not crazy, Sam," said Will, who was much amused by Sam's
+astonishment. "Do as I've asked, and when there is any news worth
+telling you shall hear it first."
+
+Sam started off without another word, and Will returned to his father
+and Barbara.
+
+When Sam made his errand known to Mr. Wiggins, the town clerk, he was
+laughed at.
+
+"No foolin' now," said Sam, impatiently. "I want one of them
+applications, and I want it quick."
+
+"There you are," replied Mr. Wiggin, as he handed Sam the desired blank.
+"Better fill it out right here, Sam, and then I can give you the license
+without any delay."
+
+"No; I guess I won't fill it out jest now," drawled Sam, with a grin.
+
+"Perhaps you ain't quite sure of the lady's age."
+
+"That's it, I ain't."
+
+"I always thought that you'd get married sometime, Sam."
+
+Sam had been joked so often about matrimony that it seldom annoyed him,
+and now that his inquisitor was wholly on the wrong scent he was greatly
+amused.
+
+"Well," he replied, "most men do marry sooner or later."
+
+"And in your case it's a good deal later," chuckled Mr. Wiggins.
+
+"Yes; but you see I've seen so many blamed fools get married 'fore
+they'd cut all their second teeth I've kinder hung off," Sam retorted.
+
+"Miss Sawyer's a nice kind of woman," ventured Mr. Wiggins, as he
+coughed, and looked at a picture on the wall. The grin on Sam's face
+disappeared.
+
+"Who said anything about her?" he demanded, indignantly.
+
+"I said that she was a nice kind of a woman. No harm in that, is there?"
+Mr. Wiggins mildly asked, as he turned his weak little eyes on Sam, who
+did not dare to meet them with his own.
+
+"No," grunted Sam, as he turned to go; "but I must be goin'."
+
+"Good luck to you," called Mr. Wiggins, as Sam ran down the steps.
+
+The town clerk and his wife had callers that evening, and Mr. Wiggins,
+thinking that the joke was too good to keep, told them of Sam's errand,
+not forgetting to say that during their conversation Miss Sawyer's name
+had been mentioned.
+
+News germs spread faster and farther than any other kind of bugs. The
+next afternoon Miss Sawyer heard from reliable sources that she was to
+be married to Mr. Samuel Billings a week from Thursday at seven o'clock
+in the evening by the Rev. Thomas Morton, of Uphill Centre, who had
+married her father and mother forty years before. She also heard that
+her wedding-gown was to be of gray and white foulard silk, with lace
+trimmings, and that her other things were just _lovely_. There was more,
+but she fainted and missed it. Poor Lizzie, it was cruel, terribly
+cruel.
+
+When Sam returned to the parsonage Will was at the door waiting for him.
+
+"The old fool thought it was for me," said Sam.
+
+"Your turn may come next," Will replied. "Got a pencil?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then read the questions, and write the answers as I give them." Sam
+obeyed, though with difficulty, because his lantern flickered, and he
+was not "much at writin' anyhow."
+
+"Goin' to be married to-night, Billy?" asked Sam, when the application
+had been filled out.
+
+"Never mind; go and get the license," replied Will.
+
+When Mr. Wiggins read the names on the blank which Sam brought on his
+second visit, he dropped the paper and jumped back with horror. Sam
+laughed outright as he picked it up and held it out to the fear-stricken
+man.
+
+"Don't be scared," he said; "nobody in the parsonage touched it. I wrote
+it myself just as Billy Flint told me to."
+
+Mr. Wiggins felt relieved and angry.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me who it was for?" he demanded.
+
+"'Cause you jumped at the answer without givin' me a chance," retorted
+Sam.
+
+Without another word the town clerk made out the license, and when it
+was finished gave it to Sam, who started quickly for the door.
+
+"Next time," said Mr. Wiggins, stiffly, "you'll save yourself trouble by
+not being so close-mouthed."
+
+"And next time," replied Sam, "you'd better not jump the creek till you
+get to it."
+
+When Sam returned Will picked up the paper that was placed on the top
+step, thanked him, and turned to reënter the house.
+
+"Say, Billy," said Sam, "what am I goin' to say to folks when they ask
+me?"
+
+"Tell them all that you know."
+
+"And s'posin' they asked me if you was married?"
+
+"Tell them that if they live long enough they'll know sometime," replied
+Will, as he shut the door, and ran lightly up the stairs to the
+sickroom. Barbara met him at the door with her finger on her lips
+cautioning silence.
+
+"He's asleep," she said.
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXIV
+
+A Wedding and a Sermon
+
+
+THE warm, bright sun of early April made the Sabbath morning beautiful.
+Here and there patches of dainty green could be seen, and in some
+sheltered, sunny spots the daring bloom of the crocus had thrust itself
+into view--purple, yellow, and white.
+
+On that day there was no happier home in the world than the parsonage.
+Mr. Flint had fully recovered; his wife had returned and was bustling
+nervously about trying to make up for lost time. Barbara and Will were
+there, and, in their undemonstrative way, very happy.
+
+"What a beautiful morning for all of us," said Mr. Flint, as he got up
+from the breakfast-table and went to the window. "Spring has come
+without--and within. Ah! if I had known, if I had been awakened earlier
+in life--"
+
+Barbara left her place at the table, ran quickly to him, and gently
+placed her fingers on his lips.
+
+"Remember, you promised," she said, smilingly.
+
+"Yes, Barbara, but I expect to break my promise many--many times. When a
+man has been born again how can you expect him to be silent? The world
+is all new to me, Barbara. Try to imagine what I have lost in my narrow,
+high-walled life. I must see everything; I must babble like a child if I
+will. Yet you, Barbara, modest girl that you are,--the one who saved my
+body, and put peace into my soul,--demand that I keep silence." Mr.
+Flint spoke in a half-serious, half-humourous way, but they understood,
+and rejoiced at the change in his manner--and the man.
+
+Barbara and Mrs. Flint began clearing the table, the minister retired to
+his study, while Will paced the sitting-room, deep in thought. When the
+door-bell rang a moment later Will answered its summons. It was Mrs.
+Stout, out of breath and flushed by her walk, but smiling.
+
+"Mornin', Willie," she puffed.
+
+"Good morning, Mrs. Stout; come in."
+
+"Ain't late, am I?" she asked, anxiously, as she stepped into the hall
+and sat down in the nearest chair.
+
+"Oh, no."
+
+"What a lovely mornin' to get married. Now if 'twas me I'd--"
+
+"Come right in to the sitting-room," called Mrs. Flint, from the
+kitchen.
+
+"All right," said Mrs. Stout, as she got up to welcome Barbara, who came
+out to meet her. "I just set down for a minute to ketch my breath. Well,
+Barbara Wallace, if you ain't lookin' fine for a woman that's been shut
+up in the house for weeks." Then Mrs. Stout shook her finger at Will and
+added: "Willie Flint, you're a lucky man."
+
+"I know it, Mrs. Stout," laughed Will, as they went into the
+sitting-room. Just then Mrs. Flint appeared and shook hands cordially
+with Mrs. Stout.
+
+"You will excuse me for coming this way, apron and all," she said, "but
+I was washing dishes, and--"
+
+"Good land! yes, Mis' Flint. My, but you're lookin' better'n you have in
+years. And if here ain't Mr. Flint himself!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as
+the parson appeared in the doorway, and then hastened toward her with
+outstretched hand. "Mr. Flint," continued Mrs. Stout, as she shook his
+hand vigorously, "I was never so glad to see you before in all my life."
+
+"And I can truly say the same of you, Mrs. Stout," laughed the parson.
+
+"Well, forgive and forget, says I," said Mrs. Stout, quickly.
+
+"Amen," replied Mr. Flint.
+
+"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Flint, "I just can't finish those dishes.
+I--"
+
+"Let 'em go," said Mrs. Stout; "nobody's s'posed to wash dishes when
+there's a weddin' comin' off in a few minutes, your own son's, too, and
+the best, sweetest woman in the whole wide world." And to prove that she
+meant every word she put her arms around Barbara and kissed the cheeks
+that grew pink with pleasure and modesty.
+
+"And in you they have one of the best, truest friends possible," Barbara
+replied.
+
+"Nonsense," said Mrs. Stout, who was modest herself.
+
+"No nonsense about it," Mr. Flint interposed, earnestly. "If it had not
+been for you and your kindness, where would we all be now?"
+
+"Oh, well," replied Mrs. Stout, "you'd prob'ly been alive just the
+same."
+
+"Ah, Mrs. Stout, but what is life without sunshine in our hearts?
+Barbara not only nursed me back to life--she showed me how to live. And
+you were her friend when all others failed, you saved her for the task."
+
+"Well," sighed Mrs. Stout, resignedly, "I done what I thought was
+best."
+
+"And God bless you for it," replied the minister, fervently. As he spoke
+the church-bell rang out on the warm spring air. He turned to Barbara
+and took her hand. "Barbara, dear, we have but a few moments--where
+shall it be?"
+
+"Here," she said, "where the sun is brightest."
+
+Barbara and Will, with clasped hands, stood near a window where the
+morning light lit up their bright young faces--faces filled with love
+and hope. The simple service--a promise and a prayer--was soon over. The
+tears were streaming down Mrs. Flint's cheeks as she greeted her son and
+his bride. Mrs. Stout's eyes, too, were moist, though she would have
+denied it. The church-bell was tolling. Mr. Flint had another duty to
+perform, and was impatiently eager to be about it.
+
+"Come," he said, "we must be going."
+
+"Do give us time to get straightened out," replied Mrs. Stout. "Us women
+folks can't go to a weddin' and then rush off to church in a minute, can
+we, Mis' Flint?"
+
+Poor Mrs. Flint, she was so excited that, without Mrs. Stout's
+assistance, she could not get her bonnet on straight. In a few minutes
+they were ready, however, and left the house together on their way
+across the road to the church.
+
+As Barbara and Will, followed by Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Stout, walked up
+the aisle, every eye in the crowded church was fixed upon them. Were
+they married? No one knew. Sam Billings had told all that he knew,
+according to Will's instructions, but none were the wiser for all that.
+
+That part of the service preceding the sermon was rushed, and the
+minister as well as the congregation assisted in the process. When the
+last note of the hymn had died away, and the rustling of the people
+sitting and making themselves comfortable had ceased, Mr. Flint left his
+seat, advanced quickly to the desk, and opened the large Bible. He
+turned the pages for a moment, and then looked up and repeated rather
+than read from the Book of Proverbs: "Be not a witness against thy
+neighbour without cause; and deceive not with thy lips." Then he closed
+the book and walked slowly to the front of the platform.
+
+"Friends," he began, in a quiet tone, so unlike his former manner that
+all wondered at it, "for a time God saw fit to take me from you. It is
+appropriate that at this season of the year, when our part of the world
+is bursting forth into joyous, beautiful life, that He should send back,
+not the man you once knew, but another, one whose life is beginning anew
+like nature." He continued at length on the "new life" that had come to
+him. Suddenly he paused, and when he spoke again quoted these words: "A
+good name is to be chosen rather than great riches." He moved about
+nervously for a moment before continuing. "A few weeks ago the innocent
+act of a good woman caused her to be reviled, shunned, and turned away
+from our doors. Of those who so harmed her I was the chief offender.
+Every word, every act, was a cruel thrust, the torture of which none of
+us can wholly appreciate. And then she came when disease--the most
+loathsome--had stricken me, when all others shunned even the house in
+which I lay, she came and brought me back to life. And then--then she
+saved my soul!" The minister's face was pale; he made no gestures; he
+did not raise his voice; but his earnestness and remorse were
+unmistakable. "And my son," he continued, "he whom I should have guided,
+I have wronged by living a narrow, loveless life." Thus, for an hour he
+talked about the "new life," love, and remorse. But his closing words
+interested many of his congregation more than those that had preceded
+them.
+
+"The son whom I have wronged, and the woman sent by God, have I this day
+made one," he said, and there was triumphant joy in his voice.
+
+Barbara's friends--everybody was her friend now--kept their places with
+difficulty during the closing hymn and the benediction. As it was, they
+failed to give Mr. Flint time for an appropriate "Amen," before they
+rushed upon Barbara and Will, and almost suffocated them with sweet
+words.
+
+When the last one had gone, Barbara, with the good wishes of everybody
+ringing in her ears, turned to Mr. Flint, and her eyes filled with
+tears.
+
+"I--I don't deserve it, I--" she began, but he gently interrupted her.
+
+"Yes, Barbara, every word is true." And then turning to Will asked, "Do
+you understand now, Will?"
+
+"Yes, father," was the reply, and the two men clasped hands.
+
+"Barbara," said Mr. Flint, as they were walking toward the door, "there
+is one word that I long to hear you say, I must hear it, you must not
+deny me any longer." Barbara stopped, she did not understand. "It is
+the one word from your lips that will fill my cup of happiness to the
+brim," added the minister, feelingly. "Can't you guess?"
+
+A light came into Barbara's eyes, and smiling through her tears she
+said:
+
+"Father."
+
+
+
+
+Chapter XXV
+
+Good Cheer--Good Will
+
+
+SUCCESS, despite the tempestuous history of the first six months of
+their existence, was staring the Morning Glories in the face. The club
+had come to stay, and a prosperous and useful future was assured.
+Prosperity meant that the treasury, among other things, had become more
+than a name, and the members of the club became possessed with a desire
+to spend the money that had been so laboriously earned, that was as
+burning as had been the desire to get it.
+
+"The gentlemen Morning Glories have just got to be entertained," Mrs.
+Stout had declared at a meeting held the week following Barbara's
+wedding. "It ain't so much that we want to give them a good time, we
+want to show the men-folks that we can do somethin' without makin' a
+mess of it, though I must own that some good has come out of the trouble
+we've made already." There was no opposition, in fact, the ladies were
+delighted with the idea. Accordingly, plans for a reception and dinner
+were quickly made and promptly executed.
+
+On the day appointed for the function, two weeks later, Mrs. Stout and
+Mrs. Blake stood in the gorgeously decorated Veterans' Hall, admiring
+the work of the committee, with the keenest satisfaction.
+
+"Ain't it just elegant?" said Mrs. Stout.
+
+"Beautiful," was Mrs. Blake's reply.
+
+"Won't the men-folks be surprised?"
+
+"They ought to be."
+
+"I expect that my Peter won't say a word the whole evenin' long--he
+ain't used to such things. He tried to beg off, but I put my foot down
+and said: 'No, sir; we've made plans to entertain you men-folks, and
+you've just got to be entertained whether you like it or not!'"
+
+"And what did he say to that?" asked Mrs. Blake, laughingly.
+
+"'Give another show,' says he, 'if you want to please the men.' Did you
+ever hear or know of anything quite so queer as men? And say, Mis'
+Blake, what do you s'pose? I got Peter to go in town and get a real full
+dress suit."
+
+"Really!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake, who could not imagine Peter Stout
+dressed in anything except a butcher's frock.
+
+"Yes; I was just bound to have him dressed up once 'fore he died,
+anyway. Goodness! if it ain't six o'clock. I must run home and help
+Peter get into his clothes, and get dressed myself."
+
+With that Mrs. Stout scurried home, while Mrs. Blake lingered for one
+more look at the tables and decorations.
+
+Two hours later the officers of the club, who formed the receiving
+party, were in their places. They stood on a white sleigh-robe, loaned
+for the occasion by undertaker Blake, and their background was a
+Japanese screen, which, on every other day in the year, could be found
+in the parlour of Mrs. Jones. They were flanked on either side by
+tabourets brought from the homes of Mrs. Tweedie and Miss Sawyer, on
+which reposed potted palms, the property of Mrs. Thornton, set in
+jardinières that Mrs. Darling's uncle, who was a sea-captain, had
+brought her from India, and that she "wouldn't have broken for worlds."
+
+We common folk in common towns! What good times we do have, but how much
+greater would be our enjoyment did we not ape the apes of wealth.
+
+Mr. So-and-so is always uncomfortable in his younger brother's dress
+suit. Mrs. What's-her-name feels as though the glittering brooch at her
+throat is on fire, because the gems are of paste. Mrs. Up-on-the-hill
+fears that some one will discover that the beautiful opera cloak, which
+she threw off so proudly, belongs to a friend in the next town; and Mr.
+Ditto swears that never again will he wear hired clothes, and adds
+several postscripts.
+
+Soon after eight o'clock, the receiving party were overwhelmed with
+business, common folk usually coming on time, despite their other
+faults, and Manville society was no exception to the rule. Some of the
+presentations were not as dignified as many of the Morning Glories
+desired, Peter Stout being one of the worst offenders. He began by
+tripping over the white sleigh-robe, which confused him so that he said
+everything that his wife had told him not to say, and not a word of the
+speech that she had informed him was the "perlite and proper thing."
+When the series of mishaps came to an end, he permitted the lady who had
+presented him to lead him to a seat, where he sat and glared into space,
+his face as red as raw beef, until his wife came to pilot him through
+the remainder of the evening.
+
+Alick Purbeck said, "How d'y," and passed on feeling well satisfied with
+himself. Deacon Walton's "Cal'late we'll have an early spring," the
+ladies cheerfully admitted. Sam Billings, dressed as he had never been
+dressed before, said, "Happy to meet yer," and then began a studied
+speech, but was dragged away before he got fairly started. Sam had been
+invited by Miss Sawyer. The difficulties which had made their wooing a
+thorn-strewn path had been cleared away, and once more Sam seemed, with
+some certainty of success, to be on the road to matrimony. When some one
+recently had attempted to joke him on the subject, he replied: "Seein'
+everybody's made up their minds that me and Lizzie was goin' to get
+married, we thought it would be too bad to disappoint 'em." Ezra
+Tweedie, poor, abused, dear little Ezra, was radiantly happy, and during
+the whole evening conducted himself in such a gentlemanly manner that,
+for the time being, he was the pride and joy of his crownless queen.
+
+Then came the dinner. It was no
+Russian-tea-peanut-butter-frappé-affair--there were things to eat. As
+the good cheer went in, the good-will came out, reserve broke down, the
+murmur of voices grew louder, followed by laughter, hearty and
+spontaneous.
+
+When the feasting was over, the toastmistress, Mrs. Tweedie, arose and
+graciously welcomed the _other sex_ without using her favourite term.
+Then came the toasts, varied, many in number, and followed by long
+responses. At midnight the feast of good-will had not abated.
+
+Barbara and Will, blissfully happy, wherever they might be, had enjoyed
+the evening more than any one else. From the beginning everybody vied
+with everybody else in bestowing upon them kind words and good wishes.
+They tried to slip away before the others, but Mrs. Stout hurried after
+them.
+
+"What are you runnin' away for?" she demanded. "Has anybody been sayin'
+things?"
+
+"No, indeed," replied Will, "not a word but kindness."
+
+"More than we deserve," added Barbara.
+
+"Nonsense; more than you deserve, the idea!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, and
+then asked, wistfully, "Well, can you forgive us now? We've done all
+that we know how to do to make it right."
+
+"Don't say 'we,' please, Mrs. Stout," said Barbara. "As for the others,
+I forgave them long--long ago."
+
+"Bless you, dear child," replied Mrs. Stout, and then she looked about
+as though in search of something. "Goodness!" she exclaimed, "if I
+haven't lost Peter! Good night, if I don't find him pretty soon he'll be
+talkin' butter and eggs."
+
+As Barbara and Will went out into the darkness, the sweet, south wind
+blew in their faces, and rustled the tiny leaves on the maples overhead.
+
+"They were very kind to us to-night, Barbara," said Will. "But for you,
+dear, it has been a long, hard journey." He felt her hand tighten on his
+arm.
+
+"Yes, Will, but the steepest paths lead to the most beautiful places."
+
+"And you do not regret one step of the cruel way you have come?"
+
+"Not one, Will."
+
+"I'm glad you can say that, but I can't seem to understand. What is the
+secret?"
+
+"Faith, Will."
+
+"Faith?"
+
+"Yes, it's God's way."
+
+And thus they walked, and talked of God, and love, and the future, until
+in the east the sky was gleaming with gold.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+L. C. Page and Company's Announcement List of New Fiction
+
+
+Carolina Lee
+
+By LILIAN BELL, author of "Hope Loring," "Abroad with the Jimmies," etc.
+
+    With a frontispiece in colour from an oil painting
+        by Dora Wheeler Keith                           $1.50
+
+A typical "Lilian Bell" book, bright, breezy, amusing, philosophic, full
+of fun and bits of quotable humour.
+
+Carolina is a fascinating American girl, born and educated in Paris, and
+at the beginning of the story riding on the top wave of success in New
+York society. A financial catastrophe leaves her stranded without money,
+and her only material asset an old, run-down plantation in South
+Carolina. In the face of strong opposition she goes South to restore the
+old homestead and rebuild her fortunes. Complications speedily follow,
+but, with indomitable faith and courage, Carolina perseveres until her
+efforts are rewarded by success and happiness.
+
+
+The Cruise of the Motor-Boat Conqueror
+
+BEING THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF THE MOTOR PIRATE.
+
+By G. SIDNEY PATERNOSTER, author of "The Motor Pirate," etc.
+
+    With a frontispiece by Frank T. Merrill             $1.50
+
+One of the most fascinating games to childhood is the old-fashioned
+"hide-and-seek," with its scurrying for covert, its breathless suspense
+to both hider and seeker, and its wild dash for goal when the seeker is
+successful. Readers of "The Motor Pirate" will remember the exciting
+game played by the motor pirate and his pursuers, and will be glad to
+have the sport taken up again in the new volume.
+
+In "The Cruise of the Motor-Boat Conqueror," a motor-boat enables the
+motor pirate to pursue his victims in even a bolder and more startling
+way, such, for example, as the hold-up of an ocean steamer and the
+seizure for ransom of the Prince of Monte Carlo.
+
+
+The Passenger from Calais
+
+A DETECTIVE STORY. By ARTHUR GRIFFITHS.
+
+    Cover design by Eleanor Hobson                      $1.25
+
+A bright, quickly moving detective story telling of the adventures which
+befell a mysterious lady flying from Calais through France into Italy,
+closely pursued by detectives. Her own quick wits, aided by those of a
+gallant fellow passenger, give the two officers an unlooked-for and
+exciting "run for their money." One hardly realizes till now the
+dramatic possibilities of a railway train, and what an opportunity for
+excitement may be afforded by a joint railway station for two or more
+roads.
+
+It is a well-planned, logical detective story of the better sort, free
+from cheap sensationalism and improbability, developing surely and
+steadily by means of exciting situations to an unforeseen and
+satisfactory ending.
+
+
+The Voyage of the Arrow
+
+By T. JENKINS HAINS, author of "The Black Barque," "The Windjammers,"
+etc.
+
+    With six illustrations by H. C. Edwards             $1.50
+
+Another of Captain Hains's inimitable sea stories, in which piracy,
+storm, and shipwreck are cleverly intermingled with love and romance,
+and vivid and picturesque descriptions of life at sea. Mr. Hains's new
+story describes the capture on the high seas of an American vessel by a
+gang of convicts, who have seized and burned the English ship on which
+they were being transported, and their final recapture by a British
+man-of-war.
+
+
+The Treasure Trail
+
+By FRANK L. POLLOCK.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.25
+
+This is a splendid story of adventure, full of good incidents that are
+exceptionally exciting. The story deals with the search for gold
+bullion, originally stolen from the Boer government in Pretoria, and
+stored in a steamer sunk somewhere in the Mozambique Channel. Two
+different search parties are endeavouring to secure the treasure, and
+the story deals with their adventures and its final recovery by one
+party only a few hours before the arrival of the second.
+
+The book reads like an extract from life, and the whole story is vivid
+and realistic with descriptions of the life of a party of gentlemen
+adventurers who are willing to run great odds for great gains.
+
+There is also "a woman in the case," Margaret Laurie, who proves a
+delightful, reliant, and audacious heroine.
+
+
+Miss Frances Baird, Detective
+
+By REGINALD WRIGHT KAUFFMAN, author of "Jarvis of Harvard," etc.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.25
+
+A double robbery and a murder have given Mr. Kauffman the material for
+his clever detective story. Miss Baird tells how she finally solved the
+mystery, and how she outwitted the other detective at work on the case,
+by her woman's intuition and sympathy, when her reputation for keenness
+and efficiency was hanging in the balance.
+
+
+The Idlers
+
+By MORLEY ROBERTS, author of "Rachel Marr," "Lady Penelope," etc.
+
+    With frontispiece in colour by John C. Frohn        $1.50
+
+The _London Literary World_ says: "In 'The Idlers' Mr. Morley Roberts
+does for the smart set of London what Mrs. Wharton has done in 'The
+House of Mirth' for the American social class of the same name. His
+primary object seems to be realism, the portrayal of life as it is
+without exaggeration, and we were impressed by the reserve displayed by
+the novelist. It is a powerful novel, a merciless dissection of modern
+society similar to that which a skilful surgeon would make of a
+pathological case."
+
+The _New York Sun_ says: "_It is as absorbing as the devil._ Mr. Roberts
+gives us the antithesis of 'Rachel Marr' in an equally masterful and
+convincing work."
+
+_Professor Charles G. D. Roberts_ says: "It is a work of great ethical
+force."
+
+
+Stand Pat
+
+OR, POKER STORIES FROM BROWNVILLE. By DAVID A. CURTIS, author of "Queer
+Luck," etc.
+
+    With six drawings by Henry Roth                     $1.50
+
+Mr. Curtis is the poker expert of the _New York Sun_, and many of the
+stories in "Stand Pat" originally appeared in the _Sun_. Although in a
+sense short stories, they have a thread of continuity, in that the
+principal characters appear throughout. Every poker player will enjoy
+Mr. Curtis's clever recital of the strange luck to which Dame Fortune
+sometimes treats her devotees in the uncertain game of draw poker, and
+will appreciate the startling coups by which she is occasionally
+outwitted.
+
+
+The Count at Harvard
+
+BEING AN ACCOUNT OF THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN OF FASHION AT
+HARVARD UNIVERSITY. By RUPERT SARGENT HOLLAND.
+
+    With a characteristic cover design                  $1.50
+
+With the possible exception of Mr. Flandrau's work, the "Count at
+Harvard" is the most natural and the most truthful exposition of average
+student life yet written, and is thoroughly instinct with the real
+college atmosphere. "The Count" is not a foreigner, but is the nickname
+of one of the principal characters in the book.
+
+The story is clean, bright, clever, and intensely amusing. Typical
+Harvard institutions, such as the Hasty Pudding Club, _The Crimson_, the
+Crew, etc., are painted with deft touches, which will fill the soul of
+every graduate with joy, and be equally as fascinating to all college
+students.
+
+
+The Heart That Knows
+
+By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS, author of "Red Fox," "The Heart of the Ancient
+Wood," "Barbara Ladd," etc.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                    $1.50
+
+This is a story of the fisher and sailor folk of the Tantramar marsh
+country about the head of the Bay of Fundy,--a region of violent tides,
+of vast, fertile salt meadows fenced in from the tides by interminable
+barriers of dyke,--and of a strenuous, adventurous people who occupy
+themselves with all the romantic business of the sea.
+
+The passions of these people are vehement, like their tides, but their
+natures have much of the depth, richness, and steadfastness which
+characterize their exhaustless meadows.
+
+The action turns upon the wisdom of the heart in discerning truth and
+love where mere reason has seen but gross betrayal.
+
+
+Richard Elliott, Financier
+
+By GEORGE CARLING.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated         $1.50
+
+This powerful novel has for its theme "high finance" and the "system."
+The Career of Richard Elliott, from office boy to Trust magnate, is set
+down with a vivid and scathing pen, and his mighty struggle with the
+Standard "Wool" Company, rascal against rascal, brings a climax which
+foreshadows, perhaps, the fate of our own "Money Kings."
+
+
+
+
+Selections from L. C. Page and Company's List of Fiction
+
+
+WORKS OF ROBERT NEILSON STEPHENS
+
+    _Each one vol., library 12mo, cloth decorative     $1.50_
+
+
+The Flight of Georgiana
+
+A ROMANCE OF THE DAYS OF THE YOUNG PRETENDER. Illustrated by H. C.
+Edwards.
+
+"A love-story in the highest degree, a dashing story, and a remarkably
+well finished piece of work."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
+
+
+The Bright Face of Danger
+
+Being an account of some adventures of Henri de Launay, son of the Sieur
+de la Tournoire. Illustrated by H. C. Edwards.
+
+"Mr. Stephens has fairly outdone himself. We thank him heartily. The
+story is nothing if not spirited and entertaining, rational and
+convincing."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+The Mystery of Murray Davenport
+
+(40th thousand.)
+
+"This is easily the best thing that Mr. Stephens has yet done. Those
+familiar with his other novels can best judge the measure of this
+praise, which is generous."--_Buffalo News._
+
+
+Captain Ravenshaw
+
+OR, THE MAID OF CHEAPSIDE. (52d thousand.) A romance of Elizabethan
+London. Illustrations by Howard Pyle and other artists.
+
+Not since the absorbing adventures of D'Artagnan have we had anything so
+good in the blended vein of romance and comedy.
+
+
+The Continental Dragoon
+
+A ROMANCE OF PHILIPSE MANOR HOUSE IN 1778. (53d thousand.) Illustrated
+by H. C. Edwards.
+
+A stirring romance of the Revolution, with its scene laid on neutral
+territory.
+
+
+Philip Winwood
+
+(70th thousand.) A Sketch of the Domestic History of an American Captain
+in the War of Independence, embracing events that occurred between and
+during the years 1763 and 1785 in New York and London. Illustrated by E.
+W. D. Hamilton.
+
+
+An Enemy to the King
+
+(70th thousand.) From the "Recently Discovered Memoirs of the Sieur de
+la Tournoire." Illustrated by H. De M. Young.
+
+An historical romance of the sixteenth century, describing the
+adventures of a young French nobleman at the court of Henry III., and on
+the field with Henry IV.
+
+
+The Road to Paris
+
+A STORY OF ADVENTURE. (35th thousand.) Illustrated by H. C. Edwards.
+
+An historical romance of the eighteenth century, being an account of the
+life of an American gentleman adventurer of Jacobite ancestry.
+
+
+A Gentleman Player
+
+HIS ADVENTURES ON A SECRET MISSION FOR QUEEN ELIZABETH. (48th thousand.)
+Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill.
+
+The story of a young gentleman who joins Shakespeare's company of
+players, and becomes a friend and protégé of the great poet.
+
+
+WORKS OF CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
+
+
+Red Fox
+
+THE STORY OF HIS ADVENTUROUS CAREER IN THE RINGWAAK WILDS, AND OF HIS
+FINAL TRIUMPH OVER THE ENEMIES OF HIS KIND. With fifty illustrations,
+including frontispiece in color and cover design by Charles Livingston
+Bull.
+
+    Square quarto, cloth decorative                     $2.00
+
+"Infinitely more wholesome reading than the average tale of sport, since
+it gives a glimpse of the hunt from the point of view of the
+hunted."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+"True in substance but fascinating as fiction. It will interest old and
+young, city-bound and free-footed, those who know animals and those who
+do not."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
+
+"A brilliant chapter in natural history."--_Philadelphia North
+American._
+
+
+The Kindred of the Wild
+
+A BOOK OF ANIMAL LIFE. With fifty-one full-page plates and many
+decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston Bull.
+
+    Square quarto, decorative cover                     $2.00
+
+"Is in many ways the most brilliant collection of animal stories that
+has appeared; well named and well done."--_John Burroughs._
+
+
+The Watchers of the Trails
+
+A companion volume to "The Kindred of the Wild." With forty-eight
+full-page plates and many decorations from drawings by Charles
+Livingston Bull.
+
+    Square quarto, decorative cover                     $2.00
+
+"Mr. Roberts has written a most interesting series of tales free from
+the vices of the stories regarding animals of many other writers,
+accurate in their facts and admirably and dramatically told."--_Chicago
+News._
+
+"These stories are exquisite in their refinement, and yet robust in
+their appreciation of some of the rougher phases of woodcraft. Among the
+many writers about animals, Mr. Roberts occupies an enviable
+place."--_The Outlook._
+
+"This is a book full of delight. An additional charm lies in Mr. Bull's
+faithful and graphic illustrations, which in fashion all their own tell
+the story of the wild life, illuminating and supplementing the pen
+pictures of the author."--_Literary Digest._
+
+
+Earth's Enigmas
+
+A new edition of Mr. Roberts's first volume of fiction, published in
+1892, and out of print for several years, with the addition of three new
+stories, and ten illustrations by Charles Livingston Bull.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover               $1.50
+
+"It will rank high among collections of short stories. In 'Earth's
+Enigmas' is a wider range of subject than in the 'Kindred of the
+Wild.'"--_Review from advance sheets of the illustrated edition by
+Tiffany Blake in the Chicago Evening Post._
+
+
+Barbara Ladd
+
+With four illustrations by Frank Verbeck.
+
+    Library 12mo, gilt top                              $1.50
+
+"From the opening chapter to the final page Mr. Roberts lures us on by
+his rapt devotion to the changing aspects of Nature and by his keen and
+sympathetic analysis of human character."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+Cameron of Lochiel
+
+Translated from the French of Philippe Aubert de Gaspé, with
+frontispiece in color by H. C. Edwards.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+"Professor Roberts deserves the thanks of his reader for giving a wider
+audience an opportunity to enjoy this striking bit of French Canadian
+literature."--_Brooklyn Eagle._
+
+"It is not often in these days of sensational and philosophical novels
+that one picks up a book that so touches the heart."--_Boston
+Transcript._
+
+
+The Prisoner of Mademoiselle
+
+With frontispiece by Frank T. Merrill.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top            $1.50
+
+A tale of Acadia,--a land which is the author's heart's delight,--of a
+valiant young lieutenant and a winsome maiden, who first captures and
+then captivates.
+
+"This is the kind of a story that makes one grow younger, more innocent,
+more light-hearted. Its literary quality is impeccable. It is not every
+day that such a heroine blossoms into even temporary existence, and the
+very name of the story bears a breath of charm."--_Chicago
+Record-Herald._
+
+
+The Heart of the Ancient Wood
+
+With six illustrations by James L. Weston.
+
+    Library 12mo, decorative cover                      $1.50
+
+"One of the most fascinating novels of recent days."--_Boston Journal._
+
+"A classic twentieth-century romance."--_New York Commercial
+Advertiser._
+
+
+The Forge In the Forest
+
+Being the Narrative of the Acadian Ranger, Jean de Mer, Seigneur de
+Briart, and how he crossed the Black Abbé, and of his adventures in a
+strange fellowship. Illustrated by Henry Sandham, R. C. A.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, gilt top                       $1.50
+
+A story of pure love and heroic adventure.
+
+
+By the Marshes of Minas
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated          $1.50
+
+Most of these romances are in the author's lighter and more playful
+vein; each is a unit of absorbing interest and exquisite workmanship.
+
+
+A Sister to Evangeline
+
+Being the Story of Yvonne de Lamourie, and how she went into exile with
+the villagers of Grand Pré.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated          $1.50
+
+Swift action, fresh atmosphere, wholesome purity, deep passion, and
+searching analysis characterize this strong novel.
+
+
+WORKS OF LILIAN BELL
+
+
+Hope Loring
+
+Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover               $1.50
+
+"Lilian Bell's new novel, 'Hope Loring,' does for the American girl in
+fiction what Gibson has done for her in art.
+
+"Tall, slender, and athletic, fragile-looking, yet with nerves and
+sinews of steel under the velvet flesh, frank as a boy and tender and
+beautiful as a woman, free and independent, yet not bold--such is 'Hope
+Loring,' by long odds the subtlest study that has yet been made of the
+American girl."--_Dorothy Dix, in the New York American._
+
+
+Abroad with the Jimmies
+
+With a portrait, in duogravure, of the author.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, decorative cover               $1.50
+
+"Full of ozone, of snap, of ginger, of swing and momentum."--_Chicago
+Evening Post._
+
+"... Is one of her best and cleverest novels ... filled to the brim with
+amusing incidents and experiences. This vivacious narrative needs no
+commendation to the readers of Miss Bell's well-known earlier
+books."--_N. Y. Press._
+
+
+At Home with the Jardines
+
+A companion volume to "Abroad with the Jimmies."
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+"Bits of gay humor, sunny, whimsical philosophy, and keen indubitable
+insight into the less evident aspects and workings of pure human nature,
+with a slender thread of a cleverly extraneous love-story, keep the
+interest of the reader fresh, and the charmingly old-fashioned happy
+ending is to be generously commended. Typical, characteristic Lilian
+Bell sketches, bright, breezy, amusing, and philosophic."--_Chicago
+Record-Herald._
+
+
+The Interference of Patricia
+
+With a frontispiece from drawing by Frank T. Merrill.
+
+    Small 12mo, cloth, decorative cover                 $1.25
+
+"There is life and action and brilliancy and dash and cleverness and a
+keen appreciation of business ways in this story."--_Grand Rapids
+Herald._
+
+"A story full of keen and flashing satire."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
+
+
+A Book of Girls
+
+With a frontispiece.
+
+    Small 12mo, cloth, decorative cover                 $1.25
+
+"The stories are all eventful and have effective humor."--_New York
+Sun._
+
+"Lilian Bell surely understands girls, for she depicts all the
+variations of girl nature so charmingly."--_Chicago Journal._
+
+    _The above two volumes boxed in special holiday
+        dress, per set,                                 $2.50_
+
+
+WORKS OF ALICE MacGOWAN AND GRACE MacGOWAN COOKE
+
+
+Return
+
+A STORY OF THE SEA ISLANDS IN 1739. With six illustrations by C. D.
+Williams.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+"So rich in color is this story, so crowded with figures, it seems like
+a bit of old Italian wall painting, a piece of modern tapestry, rather
+than a modern fabric woven deftly from the threads of fact and fancy
+gathered up in this new and essentially practical country, and therein
+lies its distinctive value and excellence."--_N. Y. Sun._
+
+"At once tender, thrilling, picturesque, philosophical, and dramatic.
+One of the most delightful romances we have had in many a
+day."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
+
+
+The Grapple
+
+With frontispiece in color by Arthur W. Brown.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+"The movement of the tale is swift and dramatic. The story is so
+original, so strong, and so finely told that it deserves a large and
+thoughtful public. It is a book to read with both enjoyment and
+enlightenment."--_N. Y. Times Saturday Review of Books._
+
+
+The Last Word
+
+Illustrated with seven portraits of the heroine.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, gilt top                       $1.50
+
+"When one receives full measure to overflowing of delight in a tender,
+charming, and wholly fascinating new piece of fiction, the enthusiasm is
+apt to come uppermost. Miss MacGowan has been known before, but her best
+gift has here declared itself."--_Louisville Post._
+
+
+Huldah
+
+With illustrations by Fanny Y. Cory.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+Here we have the great-hearted, capable woman of the Texas plains
+dispensing food and genial philosophy to rough-and-ready cowboys. Her
+sympathy takes the form of happy laughter, and her delightfully funny
+phrases amuse the fancy and stick in one's memory.
+
+
+WORKS OF MORLEY ROBERTS
+
+
+Rachel Marr
+
+By MORLEY ROBERTS.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+"A novel of tremendous force, with a style that is sure, luxuriant,
+compelling, full of color and vital force."--_Elia W. Peattie in Chicago
+Tribune._
+
+"In atmosphere, if nothing else, the story is absolutely
+perfect."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+"Will be widely read and shrewdly and acutely commented upon through
+many years yet to come."--_Philadelphia North American._
+
+"A splendidly wrought book, strong as the winds and waves are strong,
+and as unregardful as they of mean barriers."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
+
+
+Lady Penelope
+
+By MORLEY ROBERTS. With nine illustrations by Arthur W. Brown.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+"For celerity of movement, originality of plot, and fertility of
+invention, not to speak of a decided audacity in situation, 'Lady
+Penelope' is easily ahead of anything in the spring output of
+fiction."--_Chicago News._
+
+"A fresh and original bit of comedy as amusing as it is
+audacious."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+The Promotion of the Admiral
+
+By MORLEY ROBERTS.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated         $1.50
+
+"If any one writes better sea stories than Mr. Roberts, we don't know
+who it is; and if there is a better sea story of its kind than this it
+would be a joy to have the pleasure of reading it."--_New York Sun._
+
+"There is a hearty laugh in every one of these stories."--_The Reader._
+
+"To read these stories is a tonic for the mind; the stories are gems,
+and for pith and vigor of description they are unequalled."--_N. Y.
+Commercial Advertiser._
+
+
+WORKS OF STEPHEN CONRAD
+
+
+The Second Mrs. Jim
+
+By STEPHEN CONRAD. With a frontispiece by Ernest Fosbery.
+
+    Large 16mo, cloth decorative                        $1.00
+
+Here is a character as original and witty as "Mr. Dooley" or "the
+self-made merchant." The realm of humorous fiction is now invaded by the
+stepmother.
+
+"It is an exceptionally clever piece of work."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+"'The Second Mrs. Jim' is worth as many Mrs. Wiggses as could be crowded
+into the Cabbage Patch. The racy humor and cheerfulness and wisdom of
+the book make it wholly delightful."--_Philadelphia Press._
+
+
+Mrs. Jim and Mrs. Jimmie
+
+With a frontispiece in colors by Arthur W. Brown.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+This book is in a sense a sequel to "The Second Mrs. Jim," since it
+gives further glimpses of that delightful stepmother and her philosophy.
+
+"Plenty of fun and humor in this book. Plenty of simple pathos and
+quietly keen depiction of human nature afford contrast, and every
+chapter is worth reading. It is a very human account of life in a small
+country town, and the work should be commended for those sterling
+qualities of heart and naturalness so endearing to many."--_Chicago
+Record-Herald._
+
+
+WORKS OF ARTHUR MORRISON
+
+
+The Green Diamond
+
+By ARTHUR MORRISON, author of "The Red Triangle," etc.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative, with six
+        illustrations                                   $1.50
+
+"A detective story of unusual ingenuity and intrigue."--_Brooklyn
+Eagle._
+
+
+The Red Triangle
+
+Being some further chronicles of Martin Hewitt, investigator.
+
+By ARTHUR MORRISON, author of "The Hole in the Wall," "Tales of Mean
+Streets," etc.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+"Better than Sherlock Holmes."--_New York Tribune._
+
+"The reader who has a grain of fancy or imagination may be defied to lay
+this book down, once he has begun it, until the last word has been
+reached."--_Philadelphia North American._
+
+
+WORKS OF ELLIOTT FLOWER
+
+
+Delightful Dodd
+
+Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+"'Delightful Dodd' is a new character in fiction who is filled to the
+brim with sound philosophy and who gives it quaint expression. In all
+comments concerning every-day life, there is something which appeals to
+the human heart and which is soundly philosophical and philosophically
+sound. The story is one of quiet naturalness."--_Boston Herald._
+
+"The candor and simplicity of Mr. Flower's narrative in general give the
+work an oddity similar to that which characterized the stories of the
+late Frank Stockton."--_Chicago News._
+
+
+The Spoilsmen
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+"The best one may hear of 'The Spoilsmen' will be none too good. As a
+wide-awake, snappy, brilliant political story it has few equals, its
+title-page being stamped with that elusive mark, 'success.' One should
+not miss a word of a book like this at a time like this and in a world
+of politics like this."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+
+Slaves of Success
+
+With twenty illustrations by Jay Hambidge.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+"In addition to having given the reading public the best collection of
+political short stories we have yet seen, Mr. Flower has blazed a new
+trail in the more or less explored country of practical politics in
+fiction. There is not a story in the book which is not clever in
+construction, and significant in every sentence. Each is excellent,
+because it depicts character accurately and realistically, while
+unfolding a well-defined plot."--_New York Evening Post._
+
+
+WORKS OF THEODORE ROBERTS
+
+
+Brothers of Peril
+
+With four illustrations in color by H. C. Edwards.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+A tale of Newfoundland in the sixteenth century, and of the now extinct
+Beothic Indians who lived there.
+
+"An original and absorbing story. A dashing story with a historical
+turn. There is no lack of excitement or action in it, all being
+described in vigorous, striking style. To be sure, the ending is just
+what is expected, but its strength lies in its naturalness, and this
+applies to the whole story, which is never overdone; and this is
+somewhat remarkable, for there are many scenes that could be easily
+spoiled by a less skilful writer. A story of unusual interest."--_Boston
+Transcript._
+
+
+Hemming, the Adventurer
+
+With six illustrations by A. G. Learned.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative                      $1.50
+
+"A remarkable interpretation of the nomadic war correspondent's
+life."--_N. Y. Evening Post._
+
+"Its ease of style, its rapidity, its interest from page to page, are
+admirable; and it shows that inimitable power,--the story-teller's gift
+of verisimilitude. Its sureness and clearness are excellent, and its
+portraiture clear and pleasing. It shows much strength and much mature
+power. We should expect such a writer to be full of capital short
+stories."--_The Reader._
+
+
+WORKS OF T. JENKINS HAINS
+
+
+The Black Barque
+
+With five illustrations by W. Herbert Dunton.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+According to a high naval authority, whose name must be withheld, this
+is one of the best sea stories ever offered to the public. "The Black
+Barque" is a story of slavery and piracy upon the high seas about 1815,
+and is written with a thorough knowledge of deep-water sailing.
+
+"A fine breezy cut and thrust tale with plenty of fighting in it, a
+touch of humor, a nice bit of sentiment, and unflagging
+entertainment."--_Cleveland Leader._
+
+
+The Windjammers
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth, illustrated                    $1.50
+
+"A collection of short sea stories unmatched for interest, ranging from
+the tragic to the humorous, and including some accounts of the weird,
+unexplainable happenings which befall all sailors. Told with keen
+appreciation, in which the reader will share."--_N. Y. Sun._
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Castel del Monte
+
+By NATHAN GALLIZIER. With six illustrations by H. C. Edwards.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+A powerful romance of the fall of the Hohenstaufen dynasty in Italy and
+the overthrow of Manfred by Charles of Anjou, the champion of Pope
+Clement IV.
+
+"There is color; there is sumptuous word-painting in these pages; the
+action is terrific at times; vividness and life are in every part; and
+brilliant descriptions entertain the reader and give a singular
+fascination to the tale."--_Grand Rapids Herald._
+
+
+A Captain of Men
+
+By E. ANSON MORE. Illustrated, with frontispiece in colors, by Henry W.
+Moore.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+A tale of ancient Tyre and its merchant princes.
+
+"The plot is intricate and well wrought and the dialogue is of great
+brilliancy."--_Boston Transcript._
+
+"It has the value of accuracy as well as the charm of distinguished
+literary merit."--_New York Post._
+
+
+The Winged Helmet
+
+By HAROLD STEELE MACKAYE, author of "The Panchronicon," etc. With six
+illustrations by H. C. Edwards.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth                                 $1.50
+
+"A rarely capable study of femininity as well as a minute picture of
+life in France in the early sixteenth century."--_Cleveland Plain
+Dealer._
+
+"The situations are decidedly unusual, the action is abundantly varied,
+and there is no loss of interest in any portion of the narrative. A
+well-constructed novel, full of dramatic incident and interest of varied
+order."--_Chicago Record-Herald._
+
+
+The Motor Pirate
+
+By G. SIDNEY PATERNOSTER.
+
+    Library 12mo, cloth decorative, with frontispiece   $1.50
+
+"It is a story of adventure in a strictly up-to-date method, and is as
+ingenious in construction as it is fervid in telling."--_Pittsburg
+Times._
+
+"Its originality, exciting adventures, into which is woven a charming
+love theme, and its undercurrent of fun furnishes a dashing detective
+story which a motor-mad world will thoroughly enjoy reading."--_Boston
+Herald._
+
+"The author has created a criminal gifted with rare ingenuity for the
+titular character of the 'Motor Pirate,' and his car is the supreme
+realization of every enthusiastic motorist's dream. It simply
+annihilates distance."--_Philadelphia North American._
+
+
+Stephen Holton
+
+By CHARLES FELTON PIDGIN, author of "Quincy Adams Sawyer,"
+"Blennerhassett," etc. The frontispiece is a portrait of the hero by
+Frank T. Merrill.
+
+    One vol., library 12mo, cloth                       $1.50
+
+"In the delineation of rural life, the author shows that intimate
+sympathy which distinguished his first success, 'Quincy Adams
+Sawyer.'"--_Boston Daily Advertiser._
+
+"'Stephen Holton' stands as his best achievement."--_Detroit Free
+Press._
+
+"New England's common life seems a favorite material for this sterling
+author, who in this particular instance mixes his colors with masterly
+skill."--_Boston Globe._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+
+Page 12 of second set of ad pages, "By" moved out of the author tag on
+"Stephen Holton."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Morning Glory Club, by George A. Kyle
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40899 ***