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diff --git a/41591.txt b/41591.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 898ffe2..0000000 --- a/41591.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4272 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Virginia Cousin & Bar Harbor Tales, by -Mrs Burton Harrison - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: A Virginia Cousin & Bar Harbor Tales - -Author: Mrs Burton Harrison - -Release Date: December 10, 2012 [EBook #41591] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA COUSIN, BAR HARBOR TALES *** - - - - -Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Note: - - Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have - been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - On page 16, "bran-new" may be a typo for "brand-new". - - - - - [Illustration: Constance Cary Harrison] - - - - - A Virginia Cousin - & Bar Harbor - Tales - - _By_ - Mrs Burton Harrison - - M D CCC XCV - - Lamson Wolffe and Co. - Boston and New York - - Copyright, 1895, - By Lamson, Wolffe, & Co - - All rights reserved - - - - -Note by the Author - - -The little story "A Virginia Cousin," here put into print for the -first time, is in some sort a tribute offered by a long-exiled child -of the South to her native soil. It is also a transcript of certain -phases of that life in the metropolis which has been pooh-poohed by -some critics as trivially undeserving of a chronicler, but fortunate -hitherto in finding a few readers willing to concede as much humanity -to the "heroine in satin" as to the "confidante in linen." - -Of the other contents of this volume, "Out of Season" made its first -appearance some time ago in _Two Tales_, and "On Frenchman's Bay" was -published in _The Cosmopolitan Magazine_. - - C. C. H. - - NEW YORK, - _November, 1895_ - - - - -A Virginia Cousin - - -Chapter I - -Mr. Theodore Vance Townsend awoke to the light of a spring morning in -New York, feeling at odds with the world. The cause for this state of -variance with existing circumstances was not at sight apparent. He was -young, good-looking, well-born, well-mannered, and, to support these -claims to favorable consideration, had come into the fortunes of a -father and two maiden aunts,--a piece of luck that had, however, not -secured for him the unqualified approbation of his fellow-citizens. - -Joined to the fact that, upon first leaving college, some years -before, he had led a few _cotillons_ at New York balls, his wealth and -leisure had brought upon Townsend the reproach of the metropolitan -press to the extent that nothing short of his committing suicide would -have induced it to look upon anything he did as in earnest. - -With an inherited love of letters, he had dabbled in literature so far -as to write and publish a book of verse, of fair merit, which, -however, had been received with tumultuous rhapsodies of satire by the -professional critics. The style and title of "Laureate of the 400," -applied in this connection, had indeed clung to him and made life -hateful in his sight. To escape it and the other rubs of unoccupied -solvency, he had made many journeys into foreign countries, had gone -around the globe, and, in due course, had always come to the surface -in New York again, with a sort of doglike attachment to the place of -his birth that would not wear away. - -Of the society he was familiar with, Vance was profoundly weary. Of -domestic ties, he had only a sister, married to a rich banker, and in -possession of a fine new house, whose tapestries and electric lighting -occupied all her thoughts and conversation that could be spared for -things indoors. Away from home, Mrs. Clifton was continually on the -wing, attending to the demands of philanthropy or charity, and to -cultivation of the brain in classes of women of incomes equal to her -own. Whenever her brother dined with her, she entertained him with a -voluble flow of conversation about these women and their affairs, -never failing, however, to exhibit her true sisterly feeling by -telling Vance that she could not see why in the world he did not marry -Kitty Ainger and settle down. - -By dint of much iteration, this suggestion of Kitty Ainger as a wife -had come to take languid possession of the young man's brain. Besides, -he liked Miss Ainger as well as admired her, and was perhaps more -content in her company than in that of anybody else he knew. - -On the spring morning in question, he had awaked in a flood of -sunshine and fresh air that poured through the open windows of his -room. His cold bath, his simple breakfast, his ride in the Park, -brought his sensations of physical well-being to a point that almost -excited his spirits to strike a balance of youthful cheerfulness. He -forgot his oppressive belongings, the obloquy they had conferred upon -him in the minds of men who make public opinion about others as -citizens, his unreasonable stagnation of ambition. - -As he cantered along the equestrian byways of the Park, and felt, -without noting, the stir of new life in nature, he grew light of heart -and buoyant. And as this condition increased, his thoughts -crystallized around the image of Katherine Ainger. She, too, loved her -morning ride; no doubt he should meet her presently. He had not seen -her since Thursday of last week, when he had taken her in to dinner at -Mrs. Cartwright's; and he had a vague idea she had resented him a -little on that occasion. Her talk had been a trifle baffling, her eyes -evasive. But she had worn a stunning gown, and was by all odds the -best-looking woman of the lot. How well she sat at table, by the way! -What an admirable figure for a man who would be forced to entertain, -to place at the head of his board in perpetuity! - -Their families, too, had always known each other. And she was so -uncommonly level-headed and sensible! Agreeable, too; no whims, no -fancies. He had never heard of her being ill for a day. As to temper -and disposition, they matched all the rest. She had never flirted; -and, marrying at twenty-six a husband of twenty-nine, she would give -him no possible anxiety on that score. - -Yes, his sister was right; everybody was right. Miss Ainger was the -mate designed for him by heaven; and he had been a fool to dawdle so -long in making up his mind to accept the fact. - -As the sunshine warmed him, and his horse forged along with a -beautiful even stride beneath him, Vance worked up to a degree of -enthusiasm he had not felt since he played on a winning football -eleven in a college game. That very day he would seek her and ask her -to be his wife. They would be married as soon as she was willing, and -would go away in the yacht somewhere and learn to love each other. He -would have an aim, a home, a stake in the community. At thirty years -of age, he should be found no longer in dalliance with time to make it -pass away. - -Vance, enamored of these visions, finished the circuit of the Park -without seeing the central object of them, with whom he had resolved -to make an appointment to receive him at home that afternoon. He rode -back to the stable where he kept his horse, left it there, and, -getting into an elevated car, went down-town to visit his lawyer, -going with that gentleman afterwards into the stately halls of the -Lawyers' Club for luncheon. - -At a table near him, Vance saw, sitting alone, a man named Crawford, -whom he had met casually and knew for a hardworking and ambitious -junior member of the New York bar. They exchanged nods, and Vance -fancied that Crawford looked at him with a scrutiny more close than -the occasion warranted. - -"You know Crawford, then?" said Mr. Gleason, an old friend of Vance's -father. "He began work with our firm, but had an offer for a -partnership in a year or two, and left us. He's a tremendous fellow to -grind, but is beginning to reap the benefit of it in making a name for -himself. If that fellow had a little capital, there is nothing he -could not do, in this community. He has never been abroad, has had no -pleasures of society, leads a scrupulously regular life, drinks no -liquors or wines of any kind, and is in bed by twelve o'clock every -night of his life. His only indulgence is to buy books, with which his -lodgings overflow. We have always supposed him to be a woman-hater, -until latterly, when straws seem to show that the wind blows for him -from a point of sentiment. He was in the Adirondacks last summer, in -camp with a friend, and I've an idea he met his fate then. After all, -Vance, my dear boy, marriage is the goal man runs for, be he what he -may. It will develop John Crawford, just as it would develop you, in -the right direction; and I heartily wish you would tell me when you -intend to succumb to the universal fate, and fall in love." - -"I heartily wish I could," said Vance, with a tinge of the mockery he -had that morning put aside. - -At that moment, Crawford, who had finished his luncheon, passed their -table, hat in hand, bowing and smiling as he did so. A waiter, -jostling by, made him loosen his hold of the hat, a rather shabby -light-brown Derby, that rolled under Vance Townsend's feet. It was -lifted by Vance and restored to its owner before the waiter could -reach the spot; and again Vance thought he detected a look of -significance, incomprehensible to him, in the frank eyes Crawford -turned upon him as he expressed his thanks. - -"It would have been a benefit to Crawford's friends to have -accidentally put your foot through that hat," said Mr. Gleason, -laughing. "He is accused by them of having worn it ever since he was -admitted to the bar. But then, who thinks of clothes, with a real man -inside of them? And no doubt the girl they say he is going to marry -will right these trifling matters in short order." - -"I like Crawford; I must see more of him," replied Vance. "He strikes -me as the fellow to pass a pleasant evening with. I wonder if he would -come to dine with me." - -"If you bait your invitation with an offer to show your first -editions, no doubt of it," said Mr. Gleason. "But to go back to our -conversation, Vance. When are we to--" - -"I decline to answer," interrupted the young man, smiling, -nevertheless, in such a way that Mr. Gleason built up a whole -structure of probabilities upon that single smile. - -Yes, Vance decided, everything conspired to urge him toward his -intended venture that afternoon. When, about four o'clock, he turned -his steps in the direction of Miss Ainger's home, he had reached a -pitch of very respectably loverlike anxiety. He even fancied the day -had been unusually long. He caught himself speculating as to where she -would be sitting in the drawing-room, how she would look when he laid -his future in her hands. - -At that moment, he allowed himself to remember a series of occasions -during the years of their friendship, upon any one of which he -believed he might have spoken as he now meant to speak, and that she -would have answered as he now expected her to answer. Ah! what had he -not lost? In her gentle, equable companionship, he would have been a -better, a higher, a less discontented fellow. All the virtues, -charms, desirable qualities, of this fine and high-bred young woman, -who had been more patient, more forgiving, than he deserved, were -concentrated into one small space of thought, like the Lord's Prayer -engraved upon a tiny coin. But even as his foot touched the lowest -step of her father's portal, he experienced a shock of doubt of -himself and of his own stability. He tarried; he turned away, and -strolled, whither he knew not. - -In the adjoining street lived Mrs. Myrtle, an aunt of his, to whom, it -must be said, Vance rarely paid the deference considered by that -excellent lady her just due. She inhabited the brown-stone dwelling in -which, as a bride, she had gone to housekeeping when New York society -was still within limits of visitors on foot. Not that that made any -difference to Mrs. Myrtle, who had always kept her carriage, and had, -about twenty years back, been cited as a leader of the metropolitan -_beau monde_. - -In those days, whether on wheels or a-foot, everybody went to Mrs. -Myrtle's Thursdays. Her spacious drawing-rooms, papered in crimson -flock paper, with their massive doors and mouldings and mirror-frames -and curtain-tops of ebonized wood with gold scroll decorations, their -furniture in the same wood, with red satin damask coverings, had, in -their time, contained the elect of good society. The pictures upon -Mrs. Myrtle's walls, and the statuary scattered on pedestals about the -rooms, were then quoted by the newspapers, and by those so favored as -to see them, as a rare display of the highest art, accumulated by an -American householder. One of the earliest affronts of many -unintentionally put upon his aunt by Vance had been his contemptuous -shrug of the shoulders when called upon by her, shortly after his -return from his first winter spent in Italy, to view her "statuary." - -Since then, Mrs. Myrtle had, little by little, come to a perception of -the fact that her "art collection" was not, any more than its -mistress, an object of the first importance to New York. But Vance had -been always associated in her mind with the incipient stages of -enlightenment, and she loved him accordingly. Her love for Vance's -sister, Mrs. Clifton, who refused to pay her tribute, and belonged to -the new "smart set," was even less. - -Upon Mrs. Myrtle, Vance now resolved to pay a long-deferred duty-call. -Admitted by an old negro butler, he was left alone in the large -darkling drawing-room, in the shade of the crimson curtains, amid the -ghostly ranks of the statues, to ruminate until Mrs. Myrtle should -make her appearance. Little thought did he bestow upon the duration of -this ordeal. He was well occupied, and, for once in his life, heartily -ashamed,----first, of his indecision upon the Ainger door-steps, and, -secondly, of the fact that he had put in here to gain courage to -return there. - -Mrs. Myrtle's heavy tread upon her own parquet floor aroused him from -meditation. His aunt was a massive lady, who wore black velvet, with a -neck-ruff of old point-lace; who, never pretty, and no longer pleasant -to look upon, yet carried herself with a certain ease born of -assurance in her own place in life, and cultivated by many years of -receiving visitors. Her small white hand, twinkling with diamonds, -was extended to him with something of the grand air he remembered his -mother, who was the beauty of her family, to have possessed; and then -Mrs. Myrtle, seating herself, fixed an unsmiling gaze upon her nephew. - -"I--ah--thought I would look in and see how you are getting on," he -said, with an attempt at jocularity. - -"But it is not Thursday," she answered, cold as before. "I make it a -point to see no one except on Thursday, or after five. And it is not -yet after five." - -Townsend, who could not dispute this fact, was at a loss how to go on. -But Mrs. Myrtle, having put things upon the right footing, launched at -once into an exposition of her grievances against him, his sister, and -the ruling society of latter-day New York. - -"I am sure if any one had told your mother and me, when we first came -out, what people were to push _us_ against the wall, and to have all -New York racing and tearing after their invitations, we should never -have believed it. It's enough to make your poor mother come back from -the dead, to revise Anita Clifton's visiting-list. And I suppose the -next thing to hear of will be your marriage into one of these bran-new -families. I must say, Theodore, although it is seldom my opinion is -listened to, I _was_ pleased when I heard, the other day, that you -were reported engaged to Katherine Ainger. The Aingers are of our own -sort; and her fortune, although it is not so important to you, will be -handsome. She is one of the few girls who go much into the world who -still remember to come to see me; and she has been lunching here -to-day." - -"Really?" said Vance, turning over his hat in what he felt to be a -most perfunctory way. - -"Yes; if you or Anita Clifton had been here in the last two months, -you might have found out that I have had a young lady--a Southern -cousin--stopping in the house." - -"A cousin of mine?" queried the young man, indifferently. - -"My first cousin's daughter, Evelyn Carlyle. You know there was a -break between the families about the beginning of the war, and, for -one reason or another, we have hardly met since. When I went to the -Hot Springs for my rheumatism last year,--you and Anita Clifton -doubtless are not aware that I have been a great sufferer from -rheumatism,--I stopped a night or two at Colonel Carlyle's house in -Virginia, and took rather a fancy to this girl. I found out that she -has a voice, and desired to cultivate it in New York, and so invited -her to come on after Christmas and stay in my house." - -Vance was conscious of a slight feeling of somnolence. Really, he -could not be expected to care for the Virginian cousin's voice. And -Aunt Myrtle had such a soporific way of drawling out her sentences! He -wished she would return to the subject of her luncheon-guest, and -then, perhaps, he might manage to keep awake. - -"So you invited Miss Ainger to-day, to keep the young lady company?" -he ventured to observe. - -"If you will give me time to explain, I will tell you that Katherine -Ainger and she have struck up the greatest friendship this winter, -and have been together part of every day. I wish, Vance, that you -could bring yourself to extend some attention to your mother's first -cousin's child. From Anita Clifton I expect nothing--absolutely -nothing. Not belonging to the 'smart set,' whatever that may be, I -make no demands upon Anita Clifton. But you, Vance, have not yet shown -that you are absolutely heartless. When Eve goes home, as she soon -will, it would be gratifying to have her able to say you had -recognized her existence." - -"I will leave a card for the young lady in the hall," he said, -awkwardly; "and perhaps she would allow me to order some flowers for -her. Just now, Aunt Myrtle, I have an engagement, and I must really be -going on." - -He had risen to his feet, and Mrs. Myrtle was about shaping a last -arrow to aim at him, when the door opened, and a girl came into the -room. - -"Oh! Cousin Augusta," she said, in the most outspoken manner, a -slight Southern accent marking some of the syllables enunciated in a -remarkably sweet voice, "I have been taking your Dandie Dinmont for a -walk, and he has been such a good, obedient dear, you must give him -two lumps of sugar when he comes to tea at five o'clock." - -As Mrs. Myrtle performed the ceremony of introduction between them, -Vance became conscious that he was in the presence of one of the most -radiantly pretty young persons who had ever crossed the line of his -languid vision. Equipped in a tailor-made frock of gray serge, a black -hat with many rampant plumes upon her red-brown hair, a boa of black -ostrich feathers curling around her pearly throat and caressing the -rosiest of cheeks, his Cousin Eve surveyed him with as much -indifference as if he had been the veriest casual met in a crowd in -Fifth Avenue. Two fingers of a tiny gloved hand were bestowed on him -in recognition of their relationship, after which she resumed her -interrupted talk about the dog. - -"You understand that Mr. Townsend is a relative, my dear?" asked Mrs. -Myrtle, in her rocking-horse manner. "You have heard me speak of him?" - -"Yes; oh, yes, certainly," Eve said, with preoccupation. "But to us -Virginians a cousin means either very much--or very, very little." - -"The presumption, then, is against me?" he asked, determined not to be -subdued. - -"Is it? I had not thought," she answered, hardly looking in his -direction. Vance took the hint and his departure. When again out of -doors, he straightened himself, and walked with a firmer, more -determined tread, conscious of a little tingling in his veins on the -whole not disagreeable. In this mood, he reached the corner of the -street in which dwelt Miss Ainger, and was very near indeed to passing -it, but, recovering himself with a start, turned westward from the -Avenue, and again sought the house from which he had gone irresolute a -little while before. - -The door was opened for him by a servant, who did not know "for sure," -but "rather thought" Miss Ainger was in the drawing-room. While -following the man across a wide hall, Vance espied, lying upon a -chair, a man's hat--not the conventional high black hat of the -afternoon caller, but a rusty brown "pot" hat, of an unobtrusive -pattern. - -"Humph! the piano-tuner, no doubt," he said to himself, and -simultaneously recalled the fact that he had seen the object in -question, or its twin brother, that same day. Before the footman could -put his hand upon the knob of the drawing-room door, it opened, and -the owner of the hat came out. It was indeed Crawford, dressed in -morning tweeds, as Vance had seen him at luncheon in the Lawyers' -Club, his plain, strong face illuminated with an expression Vance knew -nothing akin to, and therefore did not interpret. - -But Vance did know Miss Ainger for an independent in her set, a girl -who struck out for herself to find clever and companionable people -with whom to fraternize; and he was accordingly not surprised to meet -Crawford here as a visitor. As once before that day, the two men -exchanged silent nods, and parted. Vance found Miss Ainger caressing -with dainty fingertips a large bunch of fresh violets that lay in her -lap and filled the room with fragrance. - -Kitty Ainger, a daughter of New York, calm, reserved, temperamentally -serious, fond of argument upon high themes, cultivated in minor points -to a fastidious degree, handsome in a sculptural way, had always -seemed to him lacking in the one grace of womanly tenderness he -vaguely felt to be of vast moment in a young man's choice for a wife. - -To-day, as she greeted him, her manner was gentle and gracious to -perfection. Perhaps it so appeared in contrast to that of the fair -Phyllida who had flouted him in his Aunt Myrtle's drawing-room; -perhaps Kitty was really glad of this first occasion in many days when -they were alone together, undisturbed. - -The thought caused a wave of excitement to rise in the suitor's veins. -He wondered how he could have held back, an hour before, when upon the -threshold of such an opportunity. But then, had he made appearance, no -doubt there would have been other visitors,--Crawford, for instance, -whom Miss Ainger was plainly taking by the hand, to lead into society, -as clever girls will do when they find an unknown clever man; -Crawford, who did not know enough of conventionality to put on a black -coat when he called on a girl in the afternoon; Crawford, poor and -plain, a man's man, whom the Ainger family no doubt regarded as one of -Kitty's freaks. Yes, Crawford would have been a decided interruption -to this _tete-a-tete_. - -Now, there was an open sea before Vance, and he had only to launch the -boat, so long delayed, a craft he at last candidly believed to be -freighted with the best hopes of his life. They talked for awhile upon -impersonal subjects--Kitty exerting herself, he could see, to be -agreeable and sympathetic with her visitor. In the progress of this -conversation, he took note with satisfaction of the artistic elegance -of her dress (of the exact color of the Peach Blow Vase, he said to -himself, searching for a simile in tint), with sleeves of sheenful -velvet, and a silken train that lay upon the rug. Her long, white -fingers, playing with the violets, wore no rings. Her slim figure, -her braids of pale brown hair, her calm, gray eyes, attracted him as -never before, with their girlish and yet womanly composure. - -"Why have you never told me," he said abruptly, "of your friendship -with that little witch of a Virginia cousin of mine who has been -staying with Mrs. Myrtle this winter?" - -"If you wish me to tell you the truth, it was because she asked me -never to do so," replied Kitty, coloring a little. "You have met her?" -she added eagerly. - -"Yes, to-day; a little while ago, when I called upon my aunt. But how -could she know of me? What reason was there for her to avoid me?" - -"Evelyn is an impulsive creature," was the answer; and now the blood -rushed into Kitty's cheek, and she was silent. - -"Impulsive, yes; but how could she resent a man she had never seen; -who had not had the smallest opportunity to prove whether or not he -was obnoxious to her? That is quite too ridiculous, I think. You, who -have so much sense, character, judgment, why could not you exercise -your influence over this very provincial little person, and teach her -that a prejudice is, of all things, petty?" - -"She is not a provincial little person," said Kitty, with spirit. "And -she does not merit that patronizing tone of yours." - -"If _you_ take her under your wing, she is perfection," he answered -lightly, as if the subject were no longer of value for discussion. -"But before we begin to differ about her, only tell me if it is my -Aunt Myrtle's objection to me as a type that my truculent Cousin Eve -has inherited?" - -"I hardly think so. Please ask me no questions," the girl said, -uncomfortable with blushing. - -"As you like. It is veiled in mystery," he said, rather piqued. "At -least, you won't mind informing me if she got any of her ideas of me -from you. No, that is hardly fair. I will alter it. Did you and she -ever speak of me together?" - -"What if I tell you yes, and that, every time we met?" exclaimed Miss -Ainger, plucking up courage when thus driven into a corner. - -To her surprise and dismay, Vance took this admission quite otherwise -than she had meant it. In Eve's attitude toward him, he thought he -read a girlish jealousy of the object preoccupying the affections of -her friend. - -"I see. I understand," he said, with a gleam in his eyes she had not -seen there in all of their acquaintance. Until now, the hearth-rug had -been between them. With an animation quite foreign to him, he crossed -it, and leaned down to take her hands. At once, Kitty, withdrawing -from his grasp, rose to her feet and faced him. - -"I think there is some great mistake," she said, very quietly. As -Vance gazed at her, he became aware that he had until now never seen -the true Kitty Ainger, and that her face was beautiful. - -"You repulse me? You have never cared for me?" he said, fiercely. - -A wave of color came upon her cheeks, and her eyes dropped before his -to the violets in her hand. - -"I must tell you," she said, after a pause, during which both thought -of many things stretching back through many years, "that I have just -promised to marry Mr. Crawford." - - -Chapter II - -The day of Miss Ainger's marriage with Crawford, which took place in -New York, a month later than the events heretofore recorded, found -Vance Townsend on horseback in Virginia, following, with no especial -purpose, a highway that crosses the Blue Ridge Mountains to descend -sharply into the valley of the Shenandoah. - -Before leaving home, he had acquitted himself of conventional duty to -the bride by ordering to be sent to her the finest antique vase of his -collection,--a gem of carved metal that Cellini might have -signed,--filled with boughs of white lilac, his card and best wishes -accompanying it. Then, with a heart overburdened, as he fancied, with -regretful self-reproach, he had turned his back upon the chief -might-have-been of his experience. - -Katherine, who had, in fact, passed many days in her paternal mansion -unsought by him, was now invested with a veil of tender sentiment. In -his waistcoat pocket he carried an unfinished poem, addressed to -her,--or to an idealized version of Miss Ainger,--which, at intervals -on his journey, he would take out and polish and shape with assiduity, -forgetting sometimes to sigh over it in his zeal for metrical -construction. - -The morning of the day that was to see the prize he had lost become -definitely another's beheld Vance bargaining with a farmer--a former -cavalryman in the Confederate service--to ride one of the two horses -he had shipped by train from New York, and serve as guide in the -war-harried region through which he desired to pass. - -The process was a simple one, the sum negligently offered for his -services for a day sufficing to cover the expenses of ex-corporal -Claggett for a fortnight, and leave a margin to fill his pipe with. -Therefore, the rusty squire in attendance (to whom the treat of -bestriding a steed like this would have been requital all-sufficient), -the riders left the village that had sheltered Townsend for the -night, and at once set out to ascend a long and toilsome hill, giving -views on every side of an enchanting prospect. - -"I don't mean to appear boastful, suh," observed Mr. Claggett, -modestly, "an' I ain't travelled much myself out o' this State, but -I've heerd people say this 'ere view beats creation." - -"It is very fine, certainly, Claggett," replied Vance, halting to look -back at the wide expanse of hill and valley mantled with springing -green, the far-off, grassy heights serving as pasture for sheep and -cows, and scattered with limestone boulders, against which redbud and -dogwood in blossom made brilliant patches; with mountains beyond, -above, everywhere, and all of that exquisite, velvet-textured shade of -blue, so soft and melting it seems to invite caress. - -"By Jove! It is well named the Blue Ridge," Vance went on, -approvingly. - -"Jest there, Mr. Townsend, in that very spot where the old red cow's -a-munchin' in the grass, was where Pelham stood when his artillery let -fly at them plucky Yankee cavalry that was behind the stone wall -firin' like fury at our Confeds." - -"And who was Pelham?" asked the visitor, with interest. - -"Never heard o' Pelham? Well, I wouldn't 'a' thought it," was the -compassionate answer. "Why, suh, he was a boy,--major of -artillery--nuthin' but a boy,--an' they killed him early in the war. -But he'd the skill an' the sense of an old general; an' there wornt no -risk to himself he'd stop at in a fight. He'd just _swipe_ vict'ry, -every time, suh, Pelham would; an' he was the pride an' idol of our -army. Thar! them johnny-jump-ups are growin' where his gun stood, an' -he rammin' charges into it with his own hand, when he sent that -murderin' volley that made batterin'-rams out o' the stones o' the -wall here, an' druv the poor Yankees behind it into Kingdom Come. -Things look different to me, suh, now. I was a youngster, then, run -mad to git into any kind o' fightin'; but I've got sons o' my own now, -an' I can't somehow see the pints in all that killin' we did in our -war, like I used to. But I can't think o' fellers like Pelham without -wantin' to be in it again, suh. - -"Why, at Snicker's Gap (heard o' Snicker's Gap, Mr. Townsend?) that -lad, who was commandin' Stuart's horse-artillery, charged on a -squadron of cavalry that had been botherin' him with its -sharp-shooters, and, with a gun that they'd dragged by hand through -the undergrowth, fired a double charge of canister into their -reserves. Then, suh, he charged agin,--a reg'lar thunderbolt that -sally was,--picked up sev'ral prisoners an' horses, an', limberin' up -his gun like wild-fire, hurried back to his first position, his men -shoutin' for him all the while." - -"Those were stirring days for you, Claggett," said Townsend, whose -blood began to answer to the man's enthusiasm. - -"Yes, Mr. Townsend, they were so; but you mustn't let me impose on you -with my war stories. My present wife, suh,--a young lady I courted in -King William, about the age of my oldest daughter,--she won't have me -open my mouth 'bout war stories at our house. Says I tire everybody -out with my old chestnuts, suh; an' perhaps I do. The ladies like to -do a good deal of the talkin' themselves, I've noticed, Mr. Townsend." - -With a subdued sigh, Claggett subsided into silence, but not for long. -The names of Stuart and Mosby and their officers were ever upon his -lips, interspersed with anecdote and gossip concerning the country -people whose dwellings were only occasionally seen from the road. Here -and there, in the distance, chimneys behind clumps of trees were -pointed out as belonging to old inhabitants who had held on to their -homes through storm and stress of ill-fortune since the war. - -"Since you are from the Nawth, I would like to tell you, suh, that -nobody who is anybody among our gentry ever lived in a village. They -lived to themselves, suh, an' the further away from each other the -better. If you had the time, suh, an' were acquainted with the -families, I could show you some places that would surprise you. An' -the ladies an' gentlemen, Mr. Townsend, of our best old stock are as -fine people as any on God's earth, I reckon. Pity you ain't -acquainted, as I said. It would give me pleasure to take you inside -some of the gates of our foremost residents." - -Vance noted with amusement that Claggett did not assume to be on a -social plane with the people he extolled, but had accepted the -tradition of their superiority as part of the Virginian creed. -Laughing, he joined in the honest fellow's regret at his ineligibility -to take rank as a guest in the neighborhood. - -"Though it seems to me, Claggett, now that I think of it, I have a -kinsman somewhere hereabout. Do you know anything of a family of -Carlyles--Colonel Carlyle, I believe they call him?" - -Claggett's manner underwent instant transformation. - -"Colonel Guy Carlyle, of the Hall, suh?" he exclaimed, eagerly. -"That's in the next county, a matter of twenty or thirty miles from -here. I had the luck to serve under the Colonel, Mr. Townsend, and -he'd know me if you spoke my name. You'll be goin' that way, suh? -We'll strike north from Glenwood, and get there by supper-time." - -"Hold on, Claggett, you'll be pouring out my coffee and asking me to -take more of the Colonel's waffles, presently. Colonel Carlyle married -my mother's cousin, but I fancy would not recognize my name as quickly -as yours. I have certainly no grounds for venturing to offer myself as -an inmate of his house." - -"Beg your pardon, suh, but the Colonel'd never get over a relation -ridin' so near the Hall an' not stoppin' there to sleep," persisted -Claggett. "It's a thing nobody ever heard of, down this way." - -"I shall have to brave tradition, then," answered Vance, -indifferently. - -"It's a fine old place, suh. House built by the Hessian prisoners in -the Revolution, and splendid furniture. They do say there's one mirror -in the big saloon that covers fourteen foot of wall, Mr. Townsend. -Yanks bivouacked in that room, too, but didn't so much as crack it. -An' chandeliers, all over danglers like earrings, suh. For all they -ain't got such a sight o' money as they had, Miss Eve, she's got a -real knack at fixin' up, an' she's travelled Nawth, an' got all the -new ideas. You must 'a' met Miss Eve when she was Nawth, Mr. Townsend. -Why, suh, she's the beauty o' three counties; nobody could pass _her_ -in a crowd, or out of it." - -"I _have_ met Miss Carlyle, Claggett," Vance said, growing -uncomfortable at the recollection. "But only once, and for a moment. -As you say, she is a beautiful young woman." - -"Then you _will_ stop at the Hall, suh?" pleaded his guide. - -"No," said Vance, briefly. "We will go on to Glenwood, and sleep there -at the inn. To-morrow, you shall show me as much of the country as I -have enjoyed to-day, but I am here for travelling, and not to -cultivate acquaintance, understand." - -"Up yonder, on the hill-top, suh," observed Mr. Claggett, ignoring -rebuke, "when we git through this little village we're comin' to (I -was in a red-hot skirmish once, right in the middle of the street, -ahead, suh), is a tree we call the Big Poplar. It marks the junction -of three counties, an' 'twas there George Washin'ton slept, when he -was on his surveyin' tour as a boy, suh--you've heard of General -Washin'ton up your way, Mr. Townsend?" - -"Yes, confound you," said Vance, laughing at his sly look. - -"General Lee halted at that point to look at the country round, on his -way to Gettysburg. A great friend of Colonel Carlyle was the General, -suh; you'll see a fine picture of the General in the dinin'-room at -the Hall. Colonel Carlyle lost two brothers followin' Lee into battle, -suh, but we call that an honor down here. They do say little Miss Eve -keeps the old swords and soldier caps of them two uncles in a sort o' -altar in her chamber, suh. Heard the news that Miss Eve's engaged to -her cousin, Mr. Ralph Corbin, in Wash'n't'n, suh? It's all over the -country, I reckon. He's a young archytec', an' doin' well; but down -here nobody knows if a young lady's engaged for sure, till the day's -set for the weddin'." - -At this point Vance interrupted his garrulous guide to suggest that -they should seek refreshment for man and beast in the hamlet close at -hand; and the diversion this created turned Claggett from the -apparently inexhaustible subject of the Carlyles. - -They rode onward, the genial sun, as it mounted higher in the heaven, -serving to irradiate, not overheat, the beautiful earth. - -From this point the road went creeping up, by gentle degrees, to the -summit of the mountain, beyond which Shenandoah cleft their way in -twain. Traversing Ashby's Gap, the efflorescence of the woods, the -music of many waters, the balm of purest air, confirmed Vance's -satisfaction in his choice of an expedition. Descending the steep -grade to the river, they crossed the classic stream upon the most -primitive of flat ferry-boats, and on the further side passed almost -at once into a rich, agricultural country, upon a well-kept turnpike, -where the horses trotted rapidly ahead. - -Claggett, strange to say, did not resume allusions to the Carlyle -family; but upon reaching a certain cross-road, he ventured an -appealing glance at his employer. - -"Turn to the right here, to get a short cut to Carlyle Hall, suh." - -"Where does the left road take us?" asked Vance, shortly. - -"You _kin_ git to Glenwood that way, Mr. Townsend. But it's a -roundabout way, an' a new road, an' a pretty bad one, an' it's just in -the opposite direction from Colonel--" - -Vance answered him by riding to the left. - -A new road, with a vengeance, and one apparently bottomless, the -horses at every step plunging deeper into clinging, red-clay mud; but -the obstinacy of Vance kept him riding silently ahead, and the -trooper, with a quizzical look upon his weather-beaten face, followed. -Miles, traversed in this fashion, brought them into the vicinity of a -small gathering of houses, at sight of which Vance spoke for the first -time in an hour. - -"Claggett." - -"Yes, suh?" This, deferentially. - -"If I ever go back of my own free will over that infernal piece of -road"--he paused for a sufficiently strong expression. - -"Yes, suh?" said Claggett, expectantly. - -"You may write me down an ass." - -"Yes, _suh_," Claggett exclaimed, with what Vance thought a trifle too -much alacrity. "Better let me go befo' you for a little piece, Mr. -Townsend," added the countryman. "Just where the road slopes down to -the crick, here, it's sorter treacherous, if you don't know the best -bit." - -Vance, choosing to be deaf, kept in front. He traversed the creek in -safety; but, in ascending the other side, his horse plunged knee-deep -into a quagmire,--throwing his rider, who arose none the worse except -for a plaster of red mud,--and emerged evidently lamed. - -"He's all right, suh, excep' for a little strain," said the -ex-trooper, after his experienced eye and hand had passed over -Merrylad's injuries. - -"We will go at once to the hotel in the village, and get quarters for -the night," said Vance, ruefully. "I've a change of clothes in that -bag you carry, so I don't mind for myself. But I wouldn't have -Merrylad the worse for this for anything." - -"The trouble is, Mr. Townsend," answered Claggett, "that you may get -quarters fit for a horse here, but you won't be stoppin' yourself, -I'll tell you." - -"Nonsense! Come along! You lead Merrylad; I'm glad to stretch my legs -by a walk," and the young man started off at a good pace, plashing -ever through liquid mire, that overflowed street and so-called -sidewalk. - -There was no sign of an inn of any kind. A few dilapidated houses of -the poorest straggled on either side the street, at the end of which -they came upon a country store and post-office combined. Three or four -mud-splashed horses hitched to a rock; as many mud-splashed loungers -upon tilted chairs on the platform before the door. That was all. - -"Better take 'em on to old Josey's, Charley," called out a friendly -voice to Claggett. - -"Yes, old Josey will do the correct thing by them," remarked a -full-bearded, sunburned gentleman, who, seated astride of a mule, now -came "clopping" toward them through the mud, from the opposite -direction. - -"I am really afraid, Mr. Townsend," Claggett said, persuasively, "that -we shall be forced to go on a mile or so further, to old Josey's." - -"And who in the thunder _is_ old Josey?" exclaimed Vance, testily. - -"Never heard o' him up Nawth, suh?" answered the trooper, with a -twinkle in his eye. "He's the big person o' this part,--an old -bachelor,--Mr. Joseph Lloyd, who runs the best farms and raises the -best stock in the neighborhood. The truth is, not many visitors come -here, unless they are booked for Mr. Lloyd's." - -"What claim have I on him, unless I can pay my night's lodging and -yours? I will leave you and the lame horse here, and make my way back -to-night to Glenwood." - -"To get to Glenwood, you'd have to pass over right smart of that mire -we came through," said Claggett, pensively. - -"Then, in Heaven's name, let us go to Josey's," said Vance, laughing, -in spite of his bad humor. - -They bade farewell to the village, and went off as they had come, -Vance choosing to walk, the trooper leading the lame horse. - -And now, in defiance of his plight, his melancholy appearance, the -accident to his favorite, Vance yielded himself to the spell of a -region that became at every moment, as he advanced, more wildly -beautiful. The sun, about to set, sent a flood of radiance over hills -high and low, over a broken rolling country dominated by the massive -shaft of Massanutton Mountain, rising like a tower above his lesser -brethren. That the "mile or two further on" stretched into four or -five, the young man cared not a jot. His lungs filling with crisp, -invigorating air, he strode forward, and was almost sorry when the -dormer-windows of an old house shrouded by locust-trees in bloom -appeared upon a plateau across intervening fields. - -"Now for my best cheek!" he said to himself. "What _am_ I to say to -old Josephus? Ask for lodging, like the tramp I look? Hang it! I -believe I'll sleep under the nearest haystack, rather!" - -While thus absorbed, Mr. Theodore Vance Townsend, the fine flower of -various clubs, did not perceive that he was an object of varying -interest and solicitude to three persons looking over the fence of a -pasture near-by, where cattle were enclosed. - -Two elderly gentlemen surveyed him closely. A girl, who had tossed a -glance at him over her shoulder, seemed to find more attraction in the -Alderney heifer, whose saucy rough tongue was at that moment stretched -out to lick salt from a velvet palm, than in the mud-stained wayfarer. - -"That's no common tramp," said one of the gentlemen to the other. "If -you will stay here with my Lady-love, I'll just go and investigate his -case." - -Vance Townsend had, perhaps, like other mortals, known his "bad -moments" in life. But he felt that there had been few like this, when -the old gentleman, issuing through a gate opening from the pasture, -came to him with a quick, decided step. - -The younger man took off his hat. The older did likewise. And then -Vance, between a laugh and a groan, told his story, confirmed by the -apparition at that moment, in the distance, of the horses and -Claggett, who was himself afoot. - -"Say no more, my dear fellow, say not another word," interrupted the -astonished old gentleman. "My name is Lloyd, and I'm the owner of that -house behind the locusts, where I'm delighted to take you in, and -Charley Claggett, too. We'll find out what's the matter with your -horse, quick enough. Welcome to Wheatlands, sir, and just come along -with me." - -Before Vance fairly knew how, he found himself in a "prophet's -chamber," looking upon a sloping roof, where a martin was nesting -within reach of his hand. Tapping the panes of the upper sash of his -window, a branch tasselled with sweet-smelling blossoms swayed in the -breeze. Outside, he had a wide and glorious view of field and -mountains. Inside, he possessed a clean, if homely, bedroom, at the -door of which a soft-voiced negro woman was already knocking, to ask -for his bespattered garments. - -Vance was delighted. When he furthermore found left at his portal a -tub with a large bucket of ice-cold water from the spring, together -with his bag, he began to think that Virginia hospitality was not to -be relegated among things traditional. - - * * * * * - -The soft Virginia dusk was closing upon the scene, when our young man, -leaving his room, went down-stairs, through a hall hung with trophies -and implements of sport, and out of an open door upon the "front -porch," to look at the evening star hanging above the mountain crest. -In this occupation he found another person indulging likewise, and in -the clear gloom discovered the face and figure of a young and -singularly graceful girl, who without hesitation accosted him. - -"Mr. Lloyd has told us of your mishap," she said, courteously. "He is -congratulating himself that it happened near enough to let him help -you out of it. I hope the horse will fare as well as the master." - -"Merrylad will be all right, thank you, so Claggett has been up to -tell me. It appears that Mr. Lloyd, in addition to his other -attractions, is a famous amateur vet." - -"You will find he has all the virtues," she said, laughing. At that -moment, a lamp, lighted by the servant in the hall, sent a stream of -illumination upon them. To Townsend's utter surprise, he saw the face -of his cousin, Evelyn Carlyle. - -"You!" he heard her say, in a not too well pleased tone; and "You?" he -repeated, with what he felt to be not a distinguished success. - -"How extraordinary that it should turn out to be you!" she began -again, first of the two to recover her composure. "Did you think--were -you, that is, on your way to visit _us_?" - -"Nothing was further from my thoughts," he answered, bluntly. "I, on -the contrary, believed myself to be going in the opposite direction -from where you live." - -"Of course," she said, somewhat piqued. "It is impossible you should -have known that papa and I came yesterday on a visit to dear old -Cousin Josephus. I beg your pardon if I was very rude." - -"It is certainly not a welcome that seems inspired by what I have been -led to think is Virginia cordiality," he answered, coolly. - -"But I have asked your pardon, and that's not the way to answer me. -You might grant it, never so stiffly; and after that, we, being thrown -together this way through no fault of either of us, might agree to be -decently civil before papa, who can have no idea how I feel toward--I -mean what my reasons are for feeling--well, never mind what I mean," -she ended, vexed at his immobility. - -"I quite join with you in thinking it would be very silly to take any -one else into this armed neutrality of ours. I shall at the earliest -moment, to-morrow, relieve you of my presence. Suppose, until then, -you try to treat me as you would another unoffending man under my -circumstances." - -"Yes. You are right. It would be better, and it would not worry papa -and Cousin Josephus," she said, reflectively. "Well, then, if you were -another man, I should begin by asking you what brought you to -Virginia. No; that would not be at all polite, would it? I think I -shall just say nothing at all." - -"Not till you let me assure you that I came because a fellow I know -told me he had made a driving tour in this part, last year, with his -wife, and had found it rather nice--and another reason was, that I -wanted to get away from myself." - -"You are very flattering to our State," she said, bridling her head -after a fashion he found both comical and sweet. She was silent a -little while, then resumed, more gently: - -"I was thinking of what you last said, and maybe I have done you an -injustice. Maybe you are to be pitied more than blamed." - -"Do you mean because I spoiled a good suit of clothes and hurt my -horse's leg?" - -"No; not that. You are clearly not in need of sympathy. There! They -are going to ring the supper-bell, and you must go and be introduced -to my father, as his cousin. He is the dearest daddy in the world, and -will be sure to try to make you come to visit us at the Hall." - -"Am I to understand this is a hint not to accept?" - -"I _could_ stay on here, you know," she said, in a businesslike way. - -"You are perfectly exasperating," he exclaimed, and then the summons -came to go into the house. Just before they crossed the threshold, she -appeared to have undergone another change of mind. Turning back -swiftly, in a voice of exceeding sweetness she breathed into his ear -these words: - -"Please, I am sorry. I ought not to keep forgetting, ought I, that you -are a stranger within our gates, and a cousin, really?" - -"Is she a coquette?" Vance began to ask himself, but was interrupted -by a _sortie_ of his host in search of him. - - -Chapter III - -Vance Townsend had reckoned without his host when he made the -declaration that he would relieve Miss Carlyle of his presence the -following day. The kind owner of Wheatlands, indulgent to every man -and beast upon his premises, had yet a way of holding on to and -controlling guests that none might resist. - -Vance, however, did not try very hard to resist the invitation to stay -at least until "Thursday, when the Carlyles would be running away -home." An evening spent with the kind, simple, yet cultivated people -who formed the little _coterie_ at Wheatlands (there was among them a -widowed cousin with her unruly boy, and a cousin who had been -unfortunate in his investments) had, somehow, quite upset our hero's -notions upon many points. - -Claggett, dismissed with a _douceur_, the liberality of which consoled -that worthy countryman for an early reunion with the lady who would -not allow him to tell stories of the war, took an affectionate leave -of his employer. In his manner Vance detected more satisfaction in the -vindication of Virginia customs than regret at the severance of their -relation. The little triumph Claggett might readily have derived from -the incident of the wayfarer's meeting, in spite of himself, with his -relations was heroically suppressed. And before Townsend had turned -upon his pillow the morning after his arrival, a telegram had gone to -the town where his luggage had been left, ordering it to be sent by -train that day. - -Vance had been told that breakfast would be at nine; and, awakened at -half-past seven by a bird on the bough in his window, he abandoned -himself to a lazy review of his impressions of the family. Of his -Cousin Eve he had seen little more than what has already been told. -After filling her place at a bounteous supper-table, where the talk -was chiefly absorbed by the three gentlemen, she had vanished, in -company with the widowed cousin, and was invisible thereafter--the men -sitting together till midnight in the large, raftered hall, with a -fire in its wide chimney, that served the old bachelor for a general -living-room. - -Vance could not remember to have seen a face of finer lines, a manner -of finer courtesy, than that of his seventy-year-old host, who, in -spite of the rust of desuetude in worldly ways, carried his inbred -gentility where all who approached him might profit by it. - -That he was a politician went without saying; and, indeed, the talk -once directed in the channel of national government had kept there -until they separated. On a claw-footed table holding a lamp beside Mr. -Lloyd's easy chair, covered with frayed haircloth, Vance saw lying a -crisp new Review of English publication, and all about were piled -newspapers and magazines, while shelves displayed row upon row of the -antique, tawny volumes that had made up the complete library of a -country gentleman in the days of old Josephus's grandfather. - -Around the hearth, coming and going with every opening of many doors, -gathered dogs of fine and varied breeds. One old patriarch of a St. -Bernard, who attached himself particularly to the stranger, had -remained close to Vance's feet, and gravely escorted him to bed. - -In his kinsman, Guy Carlyle, a handsome man of fifty odd years, who in -a military youth had been noted for deeds of daring that rang through -the army of Northern Virginia, but had long since resigned himself to -the peaceful pursuits of agriculture, Vance saw the origin of Eve's -rare beauty. He also became aware that, of a large family of sons and -daughters born to the now widowed Colonel, Eve was the sole survivor; -and it did not need the expression that irradiated her father's face -when her name was touched upon to show in what estimation she was held -by him. - -The tinge of melancholy in Mr. Carlyle's manner had, however, no -effect like repression of the cordial friendliness he extended to the -newcomer. Vance had gone to rest with a feeling that he had conferred -a genuine favor upon his two elders by according to them, as he had, -his company. - -Spite of these conditions of good-fellowship, he awoke next morning -conscious that there was one under the roof with him who had the power -(and no desire to withhold it) to make him far from comfortable; to -puzzle him, to banter him, to pull him up with a jerk at the moment he -might feel that he was getting reasonably ahead with her; to punish -him, it would appear, for some offence he could not own to having -committed. - -It was very clear that Eve thought him a poor fellow, mentally and -morally; that, apart from her specific grudge against him, of nature -unknown, she was not in the least inclined to pay tribute to his -position, fashion, culture, wealth,--the appendages of Vance -Townsend's personality people around him had always been disposed to -make so much of. In the firmament of American society, he took himself -to be a planet of first importance. In other lands, he had enjoyed -more than a reasonable share of social success. Why should he here, -for the first time in his life, feel like a man coming in fancy -costume to a dinner where all the other guests wore plain clothes? - -It must be the doing of that girl. She it was who, with a few words, a -cool glance or two that appeared to read his soul, had brought him -into this strait; and Vance was still young enough to feel himself -flame with resentment of her. Then fell upon his mental ear the soft -cadence of her voice, asking his pardon for having possibly misjudged -him, and his anger passed. - -As from Eve he went on to think of Kitty Ainger, now Mrs. Crawford, -Vance was surprised at the freedom from soreness the reflection left -upon his mind. Mrs. Crawford, he even reflected, was really an -admirable woman--just the wife, as everybody had said, for a rising -fellow like Crawford, who would surely reach the top! She had shown -her good sense in taking him. Was it possible Vance had ever thought -anything else? - -On a table near the bed lay the contents of a pocket emptied -overnight--among them a folded paper, inscribed with the latest and -most satisfactory draft of his verses to Kitty. This he now seized, -and, upon re-reading it, a flush that was not of tender consciousness -overspread his face. Regardless of the loss to the world of poetry, -ignoring the recurrent efforts that Calliope had witnessed, he -deliberately tore it up, and went to the open window prepared to -scatter the tiny remnants upon a matin breeze. - -A view of wide green plains, with here and there a clump of noble -trees, of soaring blue hills beyond them, all shining in the morning -sun, met his eye; and almost directly beneath his window were a couple -of horses, of which one was bestridden by old Josephus, in a nankeen -coat and venerable Panama hat; the other, little more than a colt, was -held by a negro and saddled for a woman's use. - -"Lady-love! Lady-love, I say!" called out the old gentleman, in a -voice of Stentor. - -"Coming, coming, come!" gaily answered somebody; and in a moment -Vance's Cousin Eve appeared. - -Springing lightly upon the segment of an enormous tree that served as -horse-block, she dropped into her saddle, and devoted herself to -subduing the juvenile remonstrance of her steed. - -With the fragments of his effusion to Kitty Ainger still in hand, -Vance felt a curious sensation, as though the old world had suddenly -become young and beautiful and tuneful; and then, from his ambush, he -heard Josephus say: - -"I'd half a mind to rouse up our visitor, and take him with us to see -the sheep in Six-Acre Lot. The ride before breakfast would have given -him a good idea of the way my land lies." - -"O Cousin Josey, I am so thankful you did _not_!" answered Eve, with -sincerity unmistakable. - -"Tut, tut, my dear child," began Mr. Lloyd, rebukingly; but Eve, who -just then succeeded in starting her colt in the right direction, was -off and away, sending back a trill of laughter to her ancient -cavalier, who made good speed to follow her. - -The new conviction of his folly in having agreed to remain under the -same shelter with Miss Carlyle did not prevent Mr. Townsend from -making his appearance with an excellent appetite at the -breakfast-table, whither he was duly escorted by Bravo, the old dog he -had found outside his bedroom door waiting to take him in charge. - -With Bravo and another dog or two at heel, Vance had walked off his -pique over dew-washed slopes of short, rich grass to a summit near the -house, to be joined on the return by Colonel Carlyle, who had strolled -out to meet him. - -Breakfasts at Wheatlands were justly considered the _chefs d'oeuvre_ -of old Josey's cook. Vance, helping himself to quickly succeeding -dainties seen for the first time, cast a mental glance backward to the -egg and a cup of tea that formed his accustomed meal at home. Half-way -in the repast, Eve, who had been changing her habit to a pretty cotton -gown, slipped into place between her father and the widow, who was -pouring out the coffee. - -"What! What!" said Cousin Josey, detecting her absence from a seat at -his side, that would have brought her face to face with Townsend. "My -Lady-love desert me like that? Come back, little runaway, and see -your Cousin Vance taste his first mouthful of a Wheatlands ham!" - -Thus adjured, Eve could but take the seat indicated; and Vance, who -had determined to be no longer oppressed by so small and pink a -person, bestowed on her an openly admiring glance that angered her -anew. - -"We must leave you to Eve's mercies this morning, Mr. Townsend," -observed their host, at the conclusion of the repast. "Carlyle and I -have promised to ride over to the County Court to hear a case tried, -and to call on the Judge, who is an old college chum of the Colonel's. -We shall be home to dinner at two, and you young people must entertain -each other until then." - -"Could you not manage not to show so plainly what you feel?" asked -Vance in his cousin's little ear, as they left the table. "Pray -believe that I am not a party to the infliction put upon you." - -They had strolled bareheaded out under the trees shading the lawn -about the house. - -"Shall we never have done quarrelling?" said Eve, wearily. "Just as I -think I begin to feel kindly toward you, something happens, and I -break down again." - -"Were we not moderately successful last night, when I assumed to be -somebody else?" he asked. - -"Yes; that is better. I will treat you as I would any other man -stopping here--any one not of your exalted class, I mean." - -"That was a quite unnecessary taunt. But I will allow it to pass if -you agree for to-day--until the gentlemen return--to treat me as you -would Mr. Ralph Corbin, for example." - -"What do you mean?" she asked, quickly. "Ralph is the dearest, most -obliging cousin I have, and I impose upon him dreadfully. If he were -here, I should begin by sending him indoors to fetch my hat and -parasol from the hall rack, and a new magazine I left in the -window-seat, and tell him to call the dogs to come with us--What! -_you_ can't intend to condescend to wait upon a mere girl, a country -cousin?" - -He was off and back again with the articles demanded, showing no -enmity in the smile offered with them to her acceptance. But he did -not at once surrender the periodical, or until he had satisfied -himself of the contents of the page held open by a marker of beaten -silver. - -"You don't mind my looking at what you read?" he asked. - -"If you like. It is some verses--_not_ what _you_ would care for, in -the least, but they have given me great pleasure." - -A glance showed him that his suspicion was correct. The stanzas in -question had been written by him some months before, and sent, -unsigned, to the editor. - -"Will you tell me what you fancy in these?" he said, with fine -indifference of manner. - -"Why does one like a flower, or worship a star? They suit me, I -suppose, and I am learning them by heart." - -His own heart throbbed with a schoolboy's glee and pride. But he said -nothing, and walked beside her light figure, in the round of garden -and orchard, bringing up in the stable-yard. Here, a space paved with -grass-grown cobblestones was bounded on three sides by frame -structures, now, in their decay, as gray and as fragile-looking as -hornets' nests. - -"And the little house built of limestone, with one window, was put up -in Colonial days, for refuge in case of an Indian raid. Mr. Lloyd will -tell you one of his best stories, about an adventure of his ancestor -in there, when three white men successfully resisted a band of -red-skins. Perhaps our aboriginal anecdotes would bore you, however. -If so, give us only a little hint, and we desist. Now, shan't we go in -and see your horses?" - -She lifted the latch; Vance followed her, past stalls where the -occupants gave her immediate recognition, to those in which his own -pair were comfortably ensconced. Merrylad, ungallant fellow, would -have none of the young lady, but at the touch and voice of his master, -turned his beautiful head sidewise to lay it upon Vance's shoulder -with affection. - -"I am, at last, an illustration of the legend, 'Some one to love me,'" -he said, laughing. "So you thought I had forsaken you, old man? Not I, -my beauty. Gently, gently, you are too demonstrative." - -"I can't imagine life without horses and dogs; can you?" she said, -with the quickly growing comradeship of a child. "There; I was -determined that Merrylad should let me stroke his neck!" - -From the stables, whose inmates seemed to have put them upon a better -footing, they passed again under the pink-blossomed arcades of an -apple-orchard, to pause beside a curious indentation, like a dimple, -in the turf. - -"Just here," began Evelyn,--"but I shall not tell you, unless you -promise to be properly impressed,--a sad fate overcame a dishonest -negro servant of Mr. Lloyd's ancestor. He--the servant, I mean--was a -fellow much given to acrobatic feats, and was accustomed to divert his -master's guests by tumbling and turning cart-wheels. One day, he -robbed old Mr. Lloyd's money-chest, and filling his pockets, went out -in the orchard, and testified his glee by standing on his head." - -"What happened? Evidently something of a supernatural nature." - -"The earth opened, and out came a great hairy red hand," said Eve, "(I -am telling it to you as my nurse told it to me) and 'cotched him by -de hayde, and drawed him down.'" - -"What evidence do they offer of this event?" - -"That is the thrilling part. About fifty years ago, when the present -owner was just of age, some men at work in this place dug up a -treasure of golden 'cob-coins,' clipped here and there to regulate -their value, as the custom was in olden days. And there, wedged in the -earth where the gold lay scattered, was the skeleton of a man standing -upon his head!" - -"Proof positive," said Vance, laughing. - -"I thought I should convince you. As an actual fact, the coins brought -six hundred dollars at the Philadelphia mint, and the money was -distributed among the finders." - -"Imagine how many darkeys have stolen out here, since, to work at -night with pick and shovel! I suppose that accounts for the depression -of the sod." - -"I myself found a George II. coin in the garden yesterday. See! If I -were to give it to you, do you think it would bind you to continue to -be 'some one else,' during the rest of your stay with us?" - -He took the bit of copper she held out, wondering, as he had done the -night before, whether this kindly mood meant coquetry, then deciding -it was but the frolic spirit of a wholesome and untrammelled youth not -to be restrained. Whatever it meant, he would profit by it. A creature -so bright, so impulsive as this, his new-found cousin, was not within -his ken, even if the occasional prick of her wit did keep him in an -attitude of self-defence. - -"Her cheeks are true apple-blossoms," he found himself murmuring, -irrelevantly, as he pursued her through the tunnel of orchard boughs. -"But her lips--what? Ah! bard beloved, I thank you--'Her mouth a -crimson flower.' That's it. 'Her mouth a crimson flower.'" - -"What are you talking about, back there?" exclaimed his guide, turning -sharply to call him to account. - -"Did I speak aloud? I was--ah--only wondering where we are going to -bring up?" - -"Do I tire you? Perhaps you are not used to walking. Never mind; we -shall soon reach the graveyard, and then you can sit upon the stone -wall and rest." - -"I think I can last to the graveyard," meekly said the young man, -whose tramps in the Alps and Dolomites and Rockies had included of -"broken records" not a few. - -"Now, you are laughing at me," she said, suspiciously. "But you know I -have never heard of you except as a lounger in clubs and a leader of -_cotillons_." - -Vance thought it useless to protest. - -They now reached an enclosure under a grove of maples, where, -motioning him to sit upon a low wall tapestried with moss and fern and -creepers, she perched upon the gnarled root of a tree, and, opening -her book, prepared to become absorbed in it. - -"Suppose you read aloud to me," he suggested, with cunning -aforethought. - -"This?" she said, doubtfully, surveying his verses. "Oh, no; I think -not. You would hardly care for _this_. It is something quite out of -your line, don't you see? The writer gives expression to a perfectly -straightforward, yet eloquent, expression of a true man's true -feeling, about a thing of every day. It is not only that the words are -lovely and the sentiment is noble, but the measure ripples like a -stream--Why, what is the matter with you? One would think you know the -author." - -"I am afraid, upon reflection, that I _do not_ know the author," he -said, drawing back into his shell. - -"If you did, I should get you to thank him for me for this," she -resumed. "They say authors are always disappointing to meet, after one -has idealized them through their writings. But _he_ would not be. No; -I would trust him, through everything, to be a noble gentleman. Of -course he is unworldly. I believe he lives in a remote Territory, and -despises petty conventionalities of society, especially those in New -York. And I think he never even heard of that dreadful 400 of yours." - -Vance, smiling at her girlish nonsense, felt himself, nevertheless, -lapped in the Elysium of her speech. - -Then her mood changed to pathos, as she told him the story of "Cousin -Josey's" single episode of love, ending in the mound beside them, -where slept the old man's bride-betrothed of seventeen,--a ward of his -mother,--who had died of a tragic accident, forty years agone. - -"And every day, since, he has come here. See, there are fresh -wood-violets upon her breast. And the dear old man has never thought -of such a thing as giving her a successor. Now, let us go. There are -lambs to show you, and a lot of other things." - -The passing cloud was gone from her April face. She was again radiant, -and in some bedazzlement of mind he arose and followed her. - - * * * * * - -Townsend's acquaintance with his Virginia cousins had, as might have -been expected, prolonged itself into a visit to Carlyle Hall; and he -was on the eve of departure, after a stay of two weeks in that -delightful refuge, before he realized how much his fancy had begun to -twine around the place and its inmates. - -Sentiment for the young creature who was its ruling spirit he did not -admit, other than the natural tribute of his age and sex to hers. Nor -did he give her credit for more than temporary feeling on any point -disconnected with her strong local attachments. Her father, her home, -and those she grandiosely called her "people"--meaning, he supposed, -the individuals indebted to Providence for having been born within the -limits of her State--were the objects of Eve's warm affection. - -Vance felt sure her courteous thought of him was the result of only -transmitted consideration for a guest. So soon as he should quit the -pleasant precincts of the Hall, he feared he must put aside his claim -to even this consideration. This condition of affairs worried our -young man more than he cared to admit to himself. To no one else would -he have confessed that the fortnight had been spent by him in a daily -effort to impress upon her a personality widely different from her -conception of it. Now, at the end of his enterprise, he was conscious -that he had not advanced in the endeavor; and this last evening in her -company was correspondingly depressing to his _amour propre_. - -They were sitting together in a window-seat of the drawing-room, -looking into an old-world garden with box walks, a sun-dial, and a -blaze of tulips piercing the brown mold. From the western sky, facing -them, the red light was vanishing, and in the large, dim room a couple -of lamps made islands of radiance in a sea of shadows. In the library, -adjoining, sat the Colonel, reading, his strong, handsome head seen in -profile from where they were. - -Sounds of evening in the country, the sweet whistle of a negro in the -distance, alone broke the spell of silence brooding over the old -house. Vance hesitated to further disturb it, the more so that Evelyn -had been in a mood of unusual graciousness. Nor did he, in truth, feel -prepared to broach the discussion of certain things he had put off -until now. - -"To-morrow," he said at last, with a genuine sigh, "I shall be on my -way northward, and this beautiful, restful life will be among my -has-beens." - -"Too restful, I'm afraid," she cried, in her brusque, schoolgirl -fashion. "Your Aunt Myrtle always speaks of Virginia as nothing but a -'cure,' which she is clearly glad to have accomplished and lived -down." - -"It has been a cure for me in another sense. I wonder if you know what -you have done for me?" - -"I?" - -"Yes. Don't fence with me now. For once, believe in your cousin, who -is, after this, going to leave you for a long time in peace. Tell me; -when I shall have gone, and that big, comfortable 'spare room' is put -in order again for the next guest, shall you sometimes think of the -subject of your missionary labors in the past two weeks?" - -"But I have never undertaken to reform you," she said, in a vexed -tone. "It is absurd for you to think I imagined myself capable of -that. The best I could hope for was that your visit should pass -without our coming to open conflict. Papa could tell you I promised -him to try that this should be so." - -"Then I am indebted to your father for the modicum of personal -consideration you have vouchsafed me?" - -"And Cousin Josey--yes," she answered, with startling candor. "At the -same time, I must say, I like you now better than I believed I ever -could. It makes me wish with all my heart I could trust you." - -Vance felt a sting that was not all resentment, or all pain. The -expression of her eyes, so fearless, so intense, waked in him a -feeling that, in the moment they had reached, he desired nothing so -much in all the world as to win this "mere girl's" approval. The color -deepened in his face, as he said: - -"And yet you have given the author of those verses, who happens to be -myself, credit for something in which you could place faith?" - -"You--_you_?" she exclaimed, starting violently. "Ah no! Don't destroy -my ideals." - -"This may be wholesome, but it is certainly not pleasant," he said, -praying Heaven for patience. - -There was nothing of her customary light spirit of bravado in the -manner in which, after a pause, she next spoke to him. - -"I hardly know how--for the sake of others, I mean, not on my own -account--to ask if it is possible you have not, in connection with me, -given a thought to one who was my daily, intimate companion all of -last winter." - -"That!" he interrupted, with a dry laugh. Why not arraign her for the -wreck of me?" - -"You understand me, I see," she said, with meaning. "Let me say this, -then: that I hold a trifler with women's hearts to be the most -despicable of characters. A man who is too indolent or too infirm of -purpose to deny himself the pleasure he gets from watching his -progress in a girl's affections is an offender the law mayn't reach, -but he deserves it should. That he makes his victim old before her -time, in his gradual, refined disappointment of her hopes, may not -count for much, in your estimation. But--but--oh! I could not have -believed it of the person who wrote those verses!" - -There were tears in her honest eyes, a tremor in her young voice. Save -for these, Vance, who had walked away from her a dozen steps, would -have continued to put distance between himself and this "angel at the -gate." - -As it was, he controlled himself sufficiently to return and say, in a -hard, strained voice: - -"I shall not attempt to change your estimate of me. But I am glad you -have given me an opportunity to tell you that on the day I saw you -first, I went directly from my aunt's house to ask Katherine Ainger to -be my wife. Some day, when you are older, and know more of the world, -and take broader views of poor humanity, all these things may seem to -you different. Then you may, perhaps, admit that, with all my faults, -I could never be such a cad as you have pictured. In the little time -that we are together now, please, let us say no more about it." - -He walked away, joining the Colonel, to engage that unsuspecting -gentleman in an exhaustive discussion of politics. - -Eve sat for awhile in her dusky corner, absorbed in thought. She had -decided to say a few words to him, before he should go, that might -contribute to her relief rather than his. But Vance gave her no -opportunity to speak any words to him, except those of conventional -farewell. Betimes, next morning, he took leave of his cousins; and the -Virginia episode was over. - -After he had left, Eve locked herself in her room, and gave way to a -burst of tears. - - -Chapter IV - -In a railway carriage that had long before left Genoa with the -ultimate intention of getting into Rome, a girl sat, tranced in -satisfaction, looking from the window, throughout an afternoon of -spring. To speed thus leisurely between succeeding pictures of a -scenery and life she seemed to recognize from some prior state of -existence--although now, in fact, seen for the first time--was a joy -sufficient to annihilate fatigue. - -The milk-white oxen ploughing the red fields; the peasant women at -work amid young vines; the sheets of wild flowers; the pink and white -and blue-washed villas, with their terraces and palms and flower-pots; -the hedges of roses, and groves of olive and eucalyptus; above all, -the classic names of stations, albeit placarded in a commonplace -way,--made Miss Evelyn Carlyle, lately a passenger of a steamer -arriving at Genoa from America, turn and twist from side to side of -the carriage, and flush and thrill with satisfaction, after a fashion -causing her father, who accompanied her, to rejoice that they occupied -their apartment undisturbed. - -As evening closed upon the scene, she at last consented to throw her -head back upon the cushion of the seat, and admit she was a prey to -the mortal consideration of exceeding hunger. Since leaving Genoa, a -roll and some cakes of chocolate, only, had supplied the luncheon for -a journey of ten hours. Therefore, when the train, stopping after dark -at a little buffet, was promptly forsaken by its passengers, Eve and -her father joined the eager throng craving refreshment at the hands of -a perspiring landlord and his inefficient aids. - -"If I could only make these fellows understand, perhaps they would -stop to listen," said Colonel Carlyle, growing wroth at the -struggling, vociferating, jostling crowd massed in a small room, -snatching for food like hungry dogs. - -"Allow me to--By Jove, it's the Colonel!" said a voice behind him, -whose possessor was trying to pass on. - -"Ralph Corbin! Where did you drop from?" and, "Ralph, this is too -delightful" were the greetings received by the young man thus -unexpectedly encountered. - -"I am on my way from Nice to Rome to meet--er--some friends who are -expected there for the Silver Wedding festivities," said he, with -becoming blushes. - -"I know," exclaimed Evelyn, gleefully. "I was sure they had something -to do with it." - -"But it's uncertain whether they have returned from Greece yet; and -it's awfully jolly to meet you, anyway, Eve, and the Colonel. Here, -let's get some food, and I'll go in your carriage for the rest of the -way, of course. I'd not an idea you were coming out this year." - -"Nor we, until a fortnight since," said Eve. - -Ralph capturing a supply of bread, and fruit, and roast chicken, they -made off with their booty to the train, and the evening passed in -merry chat and explanation of their plans. Evelyn, however, by no -means lost the consciousness of her advance for the first time upon -Rome; and when, after crossing the Tiber at midnight, and catching -glimpses, on either side the railway, of ruins that heralded their -vicinity to the goal of her hopes, she was keyed to high excitement. - -Ralph laughed at her disappointment as the train ran slowly into a -large, modern station lighted by electricity, and decorated with -hangings of gold and crimson, a crimson carpet spread across the -platform to one of the doors of exit. When they enquired of the -_facchino_ who took their bags in charge, what great arrival was -expected, the man answered with an indifference worthy of democratic -New York: "It is for the Silver Wedding of their Majesties, Signor; -but there are so many Kings and Emperors and Princes in Rome now, we -have ceased to take account of them." - -"We have struck Rome at a crowded season," said Ralph, "and I don't -know that you are going to like it overmuch. I say, Eve, if Somebody -doesn't come for another week or so, what a heaven-send you and your -father will be to me for company!" - -"That is the most cold-blooded way of making use of us to kill time -with," said Eve; but she bestowed on him a well-pleased smile. To her, -Ralph had been ever a chum,--a dear, good fellow, who was the best of -company. His unexpected appearance here promised to add tenfold to her -pleasure, while his hopes in the affair hinted at between them had -been, for some time, familiar to her in detail. - -"And all this while I have never told you," he went on, in his boyish -manner, "that at Nice I fell in with that swell New York cousin of -yours, Vance Townsend. Not half a bad chap, if he is rather -close-mouthed. Shouldn't wonder if he's in Rome, now, like everybody -else in this part of the world." - -"Townsend?" said the Colonel, with animation. "Glad to hear there's a -chance of seeing him. Just a year--isn't it, Eve?--since he visited us -at the Hall. Well, there's no doubt we are in luck, if we meet Vance -as well as you, Ralph." - -"The funny part of it is," whispered the joyous Ralph to Evelyn, "some -of the people we both knew in Nice put it into Townsend's head I was -coming here to meet my _fiancee_. And you know, Eve, I am not engaged -to her yet; her mother put us on probation for six months. The six -months are out next week, though, and I don't think it would hurt -Maud's mamma to hurry herself a little bit to get here, do you? How -you will admire Maud's style, Evie! Her hair is dark as--" etc., etc., -until Evelyn cut it short by jumping into the carriage drawn up in -waiting for them. - -Just now, she was not as well prepared to listen as usual. Certain -feelings she had believed extinct proved themselves to have been -merely dormant. Even the spectacle of Rome _en fete_, by night, its -bands and fountains playing, its streets still filled with lively -promenaders, did not wholly distract her from this sudden tumult of an -emotion she was not prepared to define. - -Constantly, during the crowded days that followed, while they drove -hither and thither, attracted but provoked by the jumbling of ancient -and modern in these haunts of history, she tried to persuade herself -she was not ever on the alert to see somebody who did not appear. For, -from among the many acquaintances and a few friends encountered in the -streets of the sociable little city, Vance was persistently missing. - -Ralph, however, whose sweetheart also kept her distance, proved his -philosophy by devoting his days to the Carlyles; and thus, under a sky -blue as the fabled Elysian fields of Virgil, the festal week went on. -Wherever their Majesties of Italy and Germany passed in public, they -were greeted by thoroughfares black with people, windows and balconies -blazing with flags and draperies, the clash of bands and the clank of -soldiery. - -The coachman engaged for the service of our friends would contrive, -wherever bound, to take on the way some passing show of sovereigns; -and, upon a certain fair day, for no reason avowed, he drove them into -the tangle of vehicles and people always seen surrounding the doors of -the Quirinal Palace whenever there was a chance to catch glimpses of -royalties upon the move. There ensconced, the saucy, bright-eyed -fellow stood up, pretended his inability to get out of the snarl, -gesticulated, talked to his friends and threatened his enemies in the -crowd, while visibly rejoicing in the opportunity to see all likely to -occur in that coveted quarter. - -"Look here, cabby, if you don't move out of this to the Baths of -Caracalla in just two minutes and a half," began Ralph, at last, in -emphatic English; but he had no reason to go on, as the driver, seeing -the young man's face, gathered up the reins, and extricated himself -with much dexterity from the crowd. - -Neither of his passengers noticed that a gentleman, in a carriage just -then crossing theirs, looked at them, leaned forward, gave orders to -his coachman, and at once proceeded to follow on their tracks. - -In the glorious ruin of the greatest of temples to athletic exercise, -Evelyn drew a deep breath of delight. Nothing in Rome, not even the -Colosseum, had so impressed her with the grandeur of bygone -achievement in architecture as this wondrous pile, with its vast -spaces, the gray walls breached by Time, out of which maidenhair grew -and crows were flying--"crying to heaven for rain," as the guide -poetically explained; the stately columns of red porphyry grouped -around the beautiful mosaic floors; the lace-like traceries of carven -stone; the niches and pedestals from which marvels of old sculpture -had been removed; over all, the air that is gold and balm combined! - -Evelyn leaned against a column abstractedly, while Ralph and her -father walked about, discussing with their guide facts and statistics -of the Thermae. They had indeed strolled quite out of her sight, when -a shadow on the pavement beside her caused her to look up. If an -answer to thought be no surprise, then was not Evelyn surprised; for -the person confronting her was Vance Townsend. - -"I have known that you were in Rome ever since the night you arrived," -he said, without preamble other than coldly offering her his hand. "I -happened to be at the station to meet an English friend, when you -came out; and I saw you get into your carriage and drive away." - -"Then you can hardly claim to have earned a welcome from us, now," she -began to say, lightly, but found it impossible to go on, checked by -the look upon his face. - -"I make no pretences," he said, bitterly. "If you care to know that I -have either kept you in view every day since, or else have gone for -long rides into the country, where I saw nobody, it is quite true. I -have done everything foolish, everything foreign to my principles and -habits, to satisfy, or to get away from, the feeling the sight of you -aroused in me. I wonder what you'd think, if I told you I've been -wandering about pretty much ever since I parted with you, a year ago, -trying to get you out of my head. Many's the letter I've written to -you and destroyed. Twice I set out to see you, and once I got back -into the neighborhood of your home. When I saw you in the crowd at the -station here, I actually thought I was possessed--" He checked -himself. "I beg your pardon. I have no right to say these things to -you, I know." - -"You? You?" she could only repeat, bewildered by the meaning in his -tone and the expression of his eyes. "Is it possible that you--" - -"That I fell in love with you that time when you were holding me to -account for a thousand transgressions, committed or not committed? -Yes, it is quite possible. That need not prevent our remaining good -friends, need it? I hope I've too much common sense to ask you to -indulge in a discussion of these points, now; during the past week, -I've been engaged continually, and I trust with some success, in -disposing of the last remnant of hope I may have cherished that some -day things might work around to give me at least a chance." - -"You make me very unhappy," she exclaimed. - -"That is far from my wish," he said, more gently. "Just at present you -ought to be walking on roses. There! Your father and Corbin are coming -back this way. I want to ask you to help me to excuse myself in your -good father's sight, if I seem unsociable." - -"One word," she said, the blood flaming into her cheeks. "It is due -you to know that long ago, soon after you left us, I received a letter -from Katherine Crawford,--a letter that made me understand many things -I had judged harshly in your conduct." - -"Mrs. Crawford has been always kind to me," he answered. "And no one -rejoices more than I in her present happiness." - -"Yes, she is happy,--perfectly so,--and her life is full of the duties -that best suit her. She says it was all planned out for her by -Providence, and kept in reserve until she was fit for it." - -"So runs the world away!" he exclaimed, with a whimsical gesture. - -After that, the others came, and there was much talk of the subjects -naturally presenting themselves. When they moved out of the enclosure -to go to the carriage, Vance walked with the Colonel, following Evelyn -and Ralph. - -"You will dine with us at our hotel this evening?" said the older man, -at parting. - -"I am sorry that I am engaged," Vance answered, with appropriate -courtesy, "and that to-morrow I am off for Sicily. Sometime, later on -in your wanderings, I shall hope to run upon you again. This is the -worst of pleasant meetings in travel, is it not?" - -When they were seated in the victoria, he shook Evelyn's hand last. - - * * * * * - -The day was finally at hand that was to bring Ralph's sweetheart--with -her incidental father, mother, two younger sisters, and a -governess--to the quarters engaged for them at Rome. In the young -man's enthusiasm, he did not forget to wonder what cloud had passed -over his Cousin Evelyn's enjoyment of the place, the sights, the -season. He even consulted the Colonel as to whether Eve might not be -unduly affected by the crowded condition of the town, and proposed for -them to change to a quieter spot. And Eve's father, who had had his -own anxieties on this point, prevailed upon her to give up the -engagements she had made with apparent zest, and resort to Naples and -Sorrento. - -To Naples, accordingly, they went, the faithful Ralph accompanying -them, at the cost of a night-journey on his return to Rome for the day -that was to see his happiness in flower. He drove with them to their -hotel, through the interminable streets, lined with palaces and -thronged with paupers, and saw them ensconced in pleasant quarters -facing Vesuvius, whose feather of smoke pointed to good weather. They -dined together in a vast _salle-a-manger_, where, in a gallery, was -conducted during their repast a noisy and mirth-provoking concert of -fiddlers, mandolins, and guitars,--the performers singing, shouting, -dancing, as they played. There was an hour before his train left, in -which, while the Colonel smoked upon the balcony of their -sitting-room, Eve walked out upon one of the quays with her cousin; -and this hour Ralph determined to improve. - -In the last day or two, trifles had shown this astute young man that -the depression of his cousin (for whom he cherished no grudge -because, a year or two before, he had been wild to call her wife, and -she would not hear of it) had been coincident with the meeting in Rome -with Townsend. That very morning, he had found at his bankers', had -read and put into his pocket, a letter written by Vance on arriving at -Taormina, which had thrown upon the subject a new and surprising -light. Just how to convey his discoveries to Evelyn, the most proud -and sensitive of creatures about her sacred feelings, he had not yet -decided. - -They talked of the bay, of the mountains, of Vesuvius. Calmed and -enchanted by the hour and scene, Eve wore her gentlest aspect, and -Ralph felt emboldened to begin. - -"This is as it should be," he said, with an air of generalizing. "You -will go to Sorrento and Amalfi and Capri, and your roses will come -back. I shall not forget you, Evie dear, because I am getting what I -most want in life. You have always been to me a thing apart, and I've -told Maud so, over and over again. By and by, I shall bring her to the -Hall, and let her see you at your best, as its mistress. For you are -not quite the same over here, Evie, as in Virginia air." - -"Perhaps I am growing old," she said, smiling. "But never mind me. We -shall miss you, Ralph, and it will require the greatest heroism to do -without you. After this journey, nobody need tell me that 'three is -trumpery.' We know better, do we not?" - -"Why not send for your other cousin to take my place?" said Ralph, -seeing his opportunity. "He is at Taormina, and would come, -undoubtedly. I had a letter from him this morning, by the way. The -most characteristic letter,--just like the man." - -No answer. Ralph felt as he were treading a bridge of glass. - -"To explain it, I should have to go back to the evening of that -meeting in the Baths of Caracalla. He came to me at the hotel, and -after a friendly chat, just as he was leaving, took occasion to say -some uncommonly nice things about my relations with (as I thought) -_Maud_; so I thanked him, and gushed a little about her, maybe,--in -my circumstances, a fellow's excusable,--and off he went, I never -suspecting that he all the time thought I was going to marry _you_." - -Here Ralph was rewarded by a genuine start and a blush, but still Eve -did not speak. - -"A day later," Ralph went on, determined now to do or die, "something -I recalled of our conversation made me realize the mistake he was -under, and I wrote him a letter explaining it. Such a time as I had to -find his whereabouts! His banker had no instructions to forward -anything, and I won't tell you all the ups and downs of trying to get -at him. Finally, in despair, I sent the letter, on the chance, to -Taormina, and from there he answered me." - -At this point, in revenge for her indifference, the diplomatist -remained, in his turn, silent, until Eve, who could bear it no longer, -turned upon him her beautiful young face, glowing in the evening light -with an eager joy. "And--and?" she exclaimed, impetuously. - -"He is a good sort--Townsend," went on Ralph, reflectively. "I've an -idea, Evie, that if you and he could have managed to hit it off, you -would have suited each other capitally. He would be the kind likely to -settle down into a country gentleman, too; and you would never be -happy in town. He has brains and a heart, in addition to his good -looks and manners, and a restrained force of character that would be -an excellent balance for this little impulsive lady, whose only fault -is that she jumps at conclusions instead of working to them." - -"You are perfectly right about that, Ralph," she said, laughing away a -strong desire to cry. "I am learning wisdom, however, with rapidly -advancing years. And you do only justice to my Cousin Vance, in your -estimate of him. No doubt," here she swallowed a nervous catch in her -voice, "if he told the truth in his letter, he congratulated you upon -being allied to some one other than the young person who made his -visit to Virginia last year a very hard test of patience, to say no -more." - -She stopped, and tried to turn away her head. But Ralph, looking her -gently in the face, read there what gave him courage to launch the -last arrow in his quiver. - -"Whatever he said, I saw through it, Evie dear. And I--I could not -wait to write an answer. I telegraphed my advice to come to Naples as -fast as steam can carry him." - - * * * * * - -Shortly after her conversation upon the quay with Ralph (who, -returning to Rome, had been duly translated into anticipated bliss), -Eve and her father took advantage of a perfect Sunday for the -excursion up Mount Vesuvius. - -In a landau with two horses,--a third to be annexed on the -ascent,--they traversed the long street formed by the villages of San -Giovanni, La Barra, Portici, and Resina, stretching from the parent -city--a street suggesting in the matter of population a series of -scattered ant-hills. Such a merry, dirty, shameless horde of all ages, -who, abandoning the dens they called homes, had issued forth under the -sun blazing even at that early hour of morning in his vault of blue, -to bivouac in the open highway, was never seen! Marketing, -chaffering, vending, gossiping, cooking, eating, drinking, performing -the rites of religion and of the toilet, the hum of their voices was -like the note of some giant insect. It was when a stranger's carriage -came in sight that the air became suddenly vocal with shrill cries for -alms; vehicles and horses were surrounded, escorted by noisy beggars, -whose half-naked children offered flowers, or turned somersaults -perilously near the wheels. - -Resina passed, they could breathe more freely. The street turmoil was -succeeded by the peace of a country road mounting between lava walls, -over which glimpses of sea, of deep-red clover in fields, of vineyard -or lemon grove, were finally succeeded by glorious, unobstructed views -of the mountains, bay, and city. In the region of recent overflows, -they saw the most curious spectacle, to the newcomer, of fertile -garden-strips of green, where clung tiny houses, pink or whitewashed, -daring the mute monster overhead, while close beside them the -mountain-side was streaked with ominous stains marking the spots -where other homes had defied him just one day too long. - -Higher still, in the track of the overflow of 1872, they experienced -the striking effect of entering into a valley of desolation between -walls of living green. Here, the lava in settling had wreathed itself -into the forms of dragons couchant, of huge serpents, and other -monstrous shapes that lay entwined as if asleep. Up above, arose the -main cone of the crater, smooth as a heap of gun-powder, vast, -majestic, cloud-circled; taking upon itself in the intense light a -blooming purple tint; the smoke issuing from its summit now soon -melting into space, now showing dense and threatening. - -Evelyn, in whom the novelty as well as beauty of the scene had aroused -fresh spirit, looked more like her old self than her fond father had -seen her for many a long day. But it is fortunately not given to -parents, however solicitous, to see all the workings of young minds; -and the good gentleman would have been indeed surprised had he divined -the mainspring of her animation. While he was indulging in a few mild -objections to the length and slowness of the drive, the rapacity of -wayside beggars, the heat of the sun, etc., such as naturally occur to -the traveller unsupported by sentimental hopes, to our young lady the -condition of motion was a necessity, and the act of getting upward a -relief. - -For the plain truth was that, since the last talk with Ralph, Evelyn -had given rein to a thousand emotions repressed, during the months -gone by, with stern self-chiding. - -Until now, recalling the year before when Vance had left her to an -unavailing sense of regret for her harsh judgment of him, she had -hardly realized what their intercourse together had meant to her. But -the period of his visit was, in fact, succeeded by one in which her -salt of life had lost its savor; and Evelyn, to her dismay, found that -her affections had gone from her keeping to this man's, acknowledged -to have been the suitor of her friend. - -That Katherine had refused Vance, and straightway married another -lover, made very little difference to one of Eve's rigid creed in -these matters. To her, love declared was love unchangeable; with air -her heart she pitied Vance for his disappointment, and blamed herself -for having repeatedly wounded him without reason. By means of this -mode of argument, she had naturally succeeded in raising Townsend to -the pedestal of a martyred hero, which, it may be conceived by those -of colder judgment, did not lessen his importance in the girl's -imagination. - -As the months had gone on, and she had had nothing from him save -packages of books and prints sent according to promise, as to a polite -entertainer who is thus agreeably disposed of by the beneficiary of -hospitality extended, her feelings had taken on the complexion of -hopeless regret for an irrevocable past. What Eve had henceforth to -do, according to her own strict ordinance, was to live down the -impulse that made her give her heart unasked. The stress of these -emotions had, in spite of her brave efforts, so worked upon her health -that the Colonel, as fond of home as a limpet of his rock, determined -to try for her the change of air and experience, resulting as we have -seen. - -And now, on this dazzling day, a "bridal of earth and sky" in one of -the loveliest spots upon earth, she kept saying to herself, "By -to-morrow--to-morrow, at latest--he will be with me! And then--and -then--and _then_--!" - -The carriage halted at a little wayside booth for the sale of wines -and fruit. A dark-skinned woman, bearing a tray of glasses, with -flasks of the delusive _Lachrymae Christi_ (made from the grapes -ripened upon these slopes) came forward to greet them. On Evelyn's -side, a hawker, with shells and strings of coral, and coins alleged to -have been found imbedded in the lava near at hand, importuned her. -But, rejecting the others, she beckoned to a pretty, bare-legged boy -carrying oranges garnished in their own glossy, dark-green leaves; and -so busy was she in selecting the best of his refreshing fruit, she -hardly observed that another claimant for her attention had appeared -close beside the wheel. - -"Please go away, my good man," she said at last, laughingly, without -giving him a glance. "Indeed, I want nothing you can supply." - -"That is a harsh assertion," Vance said, in a low tone meant for her -ear, and then proceeded to greet both his cousins outspokenly. - -He had reached Naples early that morning; had ascertained at their -hotel that they were engaged to start for Vesuvius at a given hour; -fearing collision with a party of strangers, had set out alone to walk -up the mountain and take his chance of intercepting them; and had -waited here for the purpose. - -"After you had been journeying all night?" said the Colonel, with -unfeigned surprise. "Why, my dear fellow, in your place I should -have--" - -Just then he intercepted, passing between Evelyn and Vance, a look -that startled him. That his sentence remained unfinished nobody -observed. The Colonel drew back into his corner, as if he had been -shot. - -If she had divined her father's feeling, Eve could not have pitied -any one who was gaining Vance. And Vance, at that moment, believed all -the world to be as happy as himself! - - * * * * * - -To a love-affair so obvious, the ending naturally to be expected is of -the old-fashioned and inevitable sort. In the beautiful Indian summer -of the following autumn in Virginia, these two people were duly -married at the Hall. From far and wide came relatives to wish them -joy; it was like the gathering of a Scotch clan at the summons of the -pipes. Prominent among the revellers at the dance following the -nuptial ceremony was Cousin Josey, who, in a pair of antiquated -leather pumps with buckles, led down the middle of a reel with his -cherished "Lady-love." To please the old boy, Evelyn had worn the -little string of pearls bought by him, years before, for a bride who -was never to be. And so everybody was content, and one of the cousins -said it was "exactly like a weddin' befo' the wah." - - - - -Out of Season - - -Chapter I - -"No; no house-parties till the middle of July. Dear knows, what with a -string of big dinners, my two little dances, and those tiresome -Thursdays in January and February when everybody came, I have done all -that could be expected by society from paupers like ourselves," said -Mrs. Henry Gervase, settling herself in a wicker chair, on the veranda -of her country home, and looking approvingly at her water-view. - -"Paupers!" said a lady from a neighboring cottage, who had dropped in -to call. Mrs. Gervase's friends rarely liked to commit themselves to -positive comment upon her statements until certain which way the cat -was meant to jump. Mrs. Luther Prettyman, the wife of the dry-goods -magnate, whose good fortune it was to own the land adjoining the -Gervase property at Sheepshead Point,--a recently famous resort for -summer visitors on our far eastern coast,--now contented herself with -a little deprecatory giggle that might mean anything, and waited for -Mrs. Gervase to go on. - -"Oh, well! everything is comparative; and on the scale by which people -measure things in New York, to-day, we are simply grovelling in -poverty. John,"--to her gardener,--"you have got that row of myosotis -entirely out of line; and, remember, nothing but salvia behind the -heliotropes. I like a blaze of scarlet and purple against a blue -sea-line like this. Heavens! what a perfect afternoon! The atmosphere -has been clarified, and those birches in the ravine 'twinkle with a -million lights.' My dear woman, I make no apologies. Any one who wants -me at this season of the year must take me as I am. After eight months -of bricks and mortar, dirty streets, and stupid drives in the Park, I -am fairly maudlin over Nature when I get her back in June. - -"I went to a concert where Paderewski played a night or two before he -left America; and I give you my word that while the music was going on -I put up my fan and plainly heard the babble of this little brook of -mine, and the lap of the waves over the rocks at high tide, with, now -and then, the notes of the song-sparrow that comes back every year and -perches on my Norway pine. Somebody said of me afterwards, at supper, -that I had been having a little nap. They may say anything of me, I -believe, and some idiot will be found to credit it. But please don't -accept the newspaper report that I am to have Mr. and Mrs. This, or -Mr. That and Mrs. T'other, stopping with me at Stoneacres during June. -I am much too busy with my granger-work, and my husband too -industrious doing nothing, to play host and hostess now." - -"I did not know; I only thought--" ventured Mrs. Prettyman. "You see, -everything is so dull here, socially, till August. And when one has a -guest coming who is accustomed to a great deal of fashionable -gaiety,--a young lady, a distinguished belle,--one naturally grasps at -the idea of such pleasant house-parties as yours are known to be, dear -Mrs. Gervase." - -"We shall be dull as ditch-water," answered relentless Mrs. Gervase, -turning around to survey the struggle of a fat-breasted robin to -extract from the turf a worm that continued to emerge in apparently -unending length. "And if you _will_ have a girl out of season, why, -put her on bread and milk and beauty-sleep, give her plenty of trashy -novels and a horse to ride, and she'll do well enough." - -"But--perhaps I am wrong--surely Mr. Gervase told Mr. Prettyman, when -they were smoking on our veranda last Sunday, that you are expecting -your nephew, Mr. Alan Grove." - -"That's just like Mr. Gervase,--a perfect sieve for secrets," quoth -Mrs. Gervase, contemptuously; "when I particularly requested him to -mention Alan's visit to nobody. The poor boy is completely used up -with work, and has engaged to get a paper ready to read before some -scientific congress next month, and finds himself unable to write a -line of it in town. Here, I have promised him, he may have absolute -quiet--not be called on to play civility or squire-of-dames for any -one; and, I may as well warn you _now_, he's not to be expected to do -a _hand's turn_ of entertainment for your girl. Besides, I happen to -know that he can't abide 'society' young women. He is plunged up to -the neck in electricity, is poor, ambitious, clever, on the way to -sure success; and I'm going to back him all I can, not put -stumbling-blocks in his path." - -"How plunged up to his neck in electricity?" asked puzzled Mrs. -Prettyman. - -"Electric law, my good soul; did you think it a new kind of capital -punishment? The lucrative law of the future, I've heard wise men say. -Simpkins!" hailing, with irresistible command, a butcher's cart that -seemed possessed of a strong desire to drive away in a hurry from a -side entrance to the house. "_Simpkins!_ Oh! there you are; I meant to -leave orders with the cook not to let you get away again to-day -without a word from me. I noticed, on the book, that you had the -effrontery to charge sixty cents a pound for spring chickens here in -June. Now, don't tell me! The way all you natives do; you have a short -season, and must make the most of it. This is not your season, or my -season, either. Wait till August before you put on the screws. And -your sweetbreads, eighty cents a pair, when _you know_ that when Mr. -Gervase and I first came here to live, you were _throwing sweetbreads -away_, till we taught you the use of them! Now, mind, I shall get -tired of sending friends to you to be fleeced in August, if this is -what you do to me in June." - -"I must be running off," said Mrs. Prettyman, arising from her spot of -shade and luxurious comfort in the deep veranda filled, though not -encumbered, with picturesque belongings, with stands and pots of -blooming plants in every nook. "I'll declare, nobody's flowers do as -well as yours. And the wages we pay our head gardener! It makes me -really envious." - -This, be it known, was a clever stroke on the part of neighbor -Prettyman. Secretly resentful of the tepid interest in the personality -of her expected guest,--who, in the eyes of the house of Prettyman, -was an event,--she yet did not dare attempt to bring the greater lady -to yield sympathy upon the spot. Mrs. Gervase's weakest side was for -her flowers. She possessed the magic touch that alone nurtures them to -perfection, and with it the proud love of a parent for children that -grow inclined according to her will. - -"Hum! We do pretty well, considering this house is built on the ragged -edge of nothing over the sea, and is swept by all the winds of heaven, -in turn, and sometimes all together. And, in a climate where one goes -to bed in the Tropics and wakes up at the North Pole, what would you -have? John, there, though I'll not set him up by telling him so, has -learned all I know about flowers, and picks up new ideas every day. By -August, now, these beds and stands will be worth looking at. What did -you say is the name of the young person who's coming to stop with you? -If you've nothing better, suppose you and she and Mr. Prettyman come -over to dinner Saturday. Alan has promised me not to work at night, -and by that time my plants will all be in the ground and my mind at -rest." - -"Thank you so much," said the lesser luminary. "It is always a treat -to dine with you _en famille_; and it is--didn't I mention -her?--Gladys Eliot who is coming to us to-morrow." - -"Gladys Eliot! Why, she's gone with her people to London for two -months. I saw her name in the _Teutonic's_ list last Thursday. Those -Eliots would never in the world let slip another chance for her to -make the great match they've set out to get." - -"Nevertheless," said Mrs. Prettyman, with some show of spirit, "Mrs. -Eliot, who is my old school-friend, wrote me, the day before they -sailed, that Gladys had taken it into her head to stay behind, and -begged me to keep her till her aunt can come up from Baltimore in July -and take the girl in charge." - -"Three weeks of Gladys Eliot!" remarked Mrs. Gervase. "My poor woman, -I pity you. By the end of the month there will be no health in you. A -professional beauty, who has run the gauntlet of four or five years of -incessant praises, has been advertised like 'Pear's Soap,' in England -and America, and has failed to make her _coup_! I remember what Alan -Grove said about her no longer ago than Christmas of last year: 'I -haven't the advantage of Miss Eliot's acquaintance, but her and her -kind I hold in abhorrence,--denationalized Americans; hangers-on of -older civilizations that make a puppet-show of them; spoiled for home, -with no rightful place abroad; restless, craving what no -healthy-minded husband of their own kind can give them.' Bless me--and -_those two_ are going to _meet here_!" - -"I think Mr. Alan Grove need not concern himself," said Mrs. -Prettyman, driven to bay. "Mrs. Eliot mentioned in her letter that -Gladys--it is no secret, evidently--is nearly, if not quite, engaged -to marry some one the family feels is _in all respects_ all they could -have hoped for her." - -"Then it must be either that Colonel Larkyns, the very rude man with -large feet, who walked all over my velvet gown at the Egertons', last -winter,--came over with Lord Glenmore, whom the Eliots tried for and -couldn't get,--or else McLaughlin, the Irishman who made such a lot of -money in Montana. The two men were running evenly, 'twas said. Let -me think--didn't I see her at Claremont on McLaughlin's coach, last -month? Pray, my dear, are we to congratulate you on having Mr. -McLaughlin, also, as a member of your household, before long?" - -"Oh dear, dear!" continued the plain-spoken lady to herself, when poor -Mrs. Prettyman, fairly routed, had retired without honors from the -field. "Why is nature so heavenly kind to us in American places of -resort, and 'only man is vile'? Why does this struggle for place, this -pride of vogue, these types of our worst social element--I hate that -word 'social,' it sounds vulgar; but what else expresses this for -me?--follow one into this earthly Paradise? Here I have got myself -into a pretty kettle of fish with Alan Grove. He will be bored to -death and his visit broken up, for we can't rid ourselves of people -who sit in our pocket, like the Prettymans in summer; and he will be -running upon this Eliot creature perpetually. If Henry would help me, -we might--but he is so abominably friendly and cordial with country -neighbors, there's no hope from him. Besides, if a girl is pretty, it -makes no earthly difference to my good man whether she is a fiend of -calculation and cold-heartedness. I declare, I've no patience with -Henry, anyhow." - -So saying, Mrs. Gervase went out to drive with the offender in -question, behind a pair of sleek cobs, in a little buckboard of tawny -wood with russet leather cushions and harness,--his latest -present,--and soon, in cheerful companionship, forgot all sorrows amid -such views of land and water as Sheepshead Point people think only -Sheepshead Point can offer. - - -Chapter II - -To reach Sheepshead Point, a boat steams daily, and several times a -day, from a station on the line of a great railway skirting the -eastern Atlantic coast. Issuing from a drawing-room car there, a young -woman, dressed in a tight-fitting skirt and jacket of sailor blue, -with a loose shirt of red silk belted around a taper waist, her small -head with its sailor-hat half shrouded from view in a blue tissue -veil, walked lightly ahead of Mr. Alan Grove and, attended by an -elderly maid, went far forward to stand in the bows of the boat. - -Grove, struck by the grace and distinction of her carriage, looked -again, and then was conscious of an actual fierce jump of the heart. - -"Can there be two of them?" he asked of his inner man. "Doctors tell -you if you keep your body in good order, and your mind healthily at -work, you will never see a ghost--and yet--that's the double of the -woman who sailed away from me last Thursday; who's haunted me during -the six madly misspent weeks since I had the misfortune to be told off -to take her in to dinner. Oh! no, it isn't. Yes, it is--by Jove, it -_is_ Gladys Eliot." - -He was never so astonished. Believing her to be at that moment on the -ocean, nearing British shores, Grove was fairly staggered when Miss -Eliot, turning, espied him and, by a graciously easy nod, summoned him -to her side. Considering the manner of their parting a few weeks back, -he wondered at himself for the immediate abjectness of his obedience. - -It was a favorite phrase of Gladys Eliot's admirers to describe her as -having a "Duchess of Leinster head and throat." Nature had certainly -bestowed upon this daughter of nobody in particular in the Western -Hemisphere a pose of a proud little head upon broad, sloping -shoulders, as fine as that much-photographed great lady's. She had, in -addition, a pair of innocent, Irish-blue eyes and a guileless smile; a -voice, in speaking, that was sweet and low; and the best or worst -manners in the world, so critics said, according to the desirableness -of her interlocutor. - -"Mr. Grove! How perfectly extraordinary that you should be here," she -exclaimed, giving him the tips of her well-gloved fingers, while the -maid and dressing-bag withdrew discreetly into the background. - -"Did you expect me to remain forever on the steps of the Claremont -tea-house, like a monument of a city father, to adorn the suburbs of -New York?" - -"You are so quick-tempered, so unreasonable! How should I know you -were going to take such dire offence? But please--I can't quarrel away -off here, or even justify myself. If you are going to remain furious -with me, at least gratify my curiosity first, and tell me how you came -on this boat, and where you are going. Then, if you are so inclined, -you may retire into your shell and sulk." - -A soft light was shining in her eye. Her voice was pleading; her face, -most beautiful. Grove, promising himself, in street vernacular, to "go -off and kick himself" directly afterwards, took his place at her -elbow and gazed down hungrily upon her artless, changeful countenance. - -"Rather tell me why you are not about to plant your triumphant banner -on British shores once more. I read your name in the list of those -sailing. The newspapers have given all of your summer plans in detail, -all the country-houses that are to receive you, all the aristocrats -that are to send invitations to dinner, to meet your ship at -Queenstown." - -She colored slightly. "As usual, you are making fun of me. What would -be the use, since you won't believe me, of telling you my actual -reason for backing out of this English visit, and letting my mother -and sister go without me? No, I shan't flatter you by showing my real -self." - -"I have seen enough of your real self, thank you. I believe I prefer -the unreal, the imaginary woman I suffered myself to fancy you to be -for a brief space after our acquaintance began." - -"Now you are rude," she began, her voice faltering ever so little, but -enough to shake his equilibrium. He made a movement towards her; and -she looked him in the face, trying to keep down the tingle of -satisfaction in her veins. For Gladys's experience of men had taught -her to recognize in a certain phase of incivility the existence of -passion unsubdued. It is only indifference in his sex that can -maintain an armor of polite self-control towards hers. - -Grove caught the transient gleam in her eye, and read it aright. -Immediately he was on the defensive, and his manner froze. - -"I believe you know my aunt, Mrs. Gervase, in town," he said. "I think -I saw you at one of her dances, in January." - -"Mrs. Gervase is the dearest thing," interrupted Miss Eliot, conscious -of blankness in her tone. - -"She may be, but it would be a brave person who would tell her so. She -is a delightful, but autocratic, personage; and one of the treats of -the year for me is to get away to her and my uncle for a holiday, when -they have no one else. This is one of those rare occasions. The -cottage people who have come down to Sheepshead have a tacit agreement -to keep to themselves, just now. They are supposed to be getting -their houses to rights, and making gardens, and what not. Mrs. Gervase -says they are really wearing out the past season's gloves, and putting -tonics on their hair, and trying new cures and doses, for which there -was no time before leaving town. The days will pass in doing as we -please, and in the evening we shall dine well (for the Gervases have a -corker of a cook), after which my aunt and uncle and I will take each -a book and a lamp into some nook of the library, and read till -bedtime. You can't imagine a life more to my taste." - -"Prohibitory to outsiders, at least," said Gladys. "This is, as I -suppose you mean it to be, awfully alarming to me; for I haven't told -you that I am for three weeks to be Mrs. Gervase's nearest neighbor. I -am going to visit an old friend of my mother's,--Mrs. Luther -Prettyman." - -Grove experienced a sensation of dismay. The Prettymans! Chateau -Calicot, as he had dubbed their new florid "villa," built on the shore -in objectionable proximity to his uncle's house, some three years -back! He remembered the vines planted, the shrubs set out, the rattan -screens hung, the final adjustment of chairs by Mrs. Gervase, in the -attempt to shut out every glimpse of the Prettyman belongings from -their place of daily rendezvous on the veranda at Stoneacres; his -uncle's sly amusement when the cupola of the Prettyman stables, and -the roof of a detestable little sugar-temple tea-house were projected -on their line of vision, spite of all. Mrs. Gervase could not forgive -herself for not having secured that point of land when land was so -ridiculously cheap. On an average of once a day, she reminded her -husband that she had begged him to do so, and he had put it off until -too late. - -Mrs. Prettyman, unvisited by Mrs. Gervase for many months after the -red-brown gables of her costly dwelling rose into prominence at -Sheepshead Point, had gradually found her way into quasi-intimacy at -Stoneacres. Mrs. Gervase, protesting that her neighbor was -commonplace, vacuous, a being from whom one could derive nothing more -profitable than the address of a place in town to have one's lace -lampshades made a dollar cheaper than elsewhere, allowed herself, in -time, to take a mild but perceptible interest in Prettyman affairs. -Through force of habit, she had grown accustomed to survey the -Prettyman lodge-gates, in driving, without remarking upon "the -absurdity of gilded finials to iron railings, at a rough, seaside -place like this." Nay, the noses of the Gervase cobs were now not -infrequently turned in through these gilded railings. Mr. and Mrs. -Gervase dined periodically with the Prettymans. The Prettymans -repaired more frequently to Stoneacres. Mrs. Prettyman made capital, -in town, of her friendship with "dear Mrs. Gervase." This, Grove, like -the rest of the world, had come gradually to know and accept. But it -grated on him to hear that the woman who, so far, had furnished his -life its chief feminine influence should be associated in this way -with the mistress of Chateau Calicot. It belittled his one -passion--now put away as dead, but still his own. This, indeed, set -the crowning touch upon his misfortune of meeting her again. - - -Chapter III - -"My dear boy, you might have knocked me down with a feather," said -Mrs. Gervase, upon capturing her nephew at the wharf and driving away -with him. "Tell me at once what you mean by knowing Gladys Eliot, and -arriving with her in that intimate sort of way, just as I had, with -infinite trouble, succeeded in bluffing the Prettymans with a mere -dinner on Saturday! Now you will be _having_ to call. _You_, of all -people, hitting it off with Gladys Eliot!" - -"Give yourself no concern," put in Mr. Gervase, who was driving, -looking back over his shoulder with a beaming smile; "I offer to throw -myself into the breach. A woman as beautiful, as tall, as placid, as -Miss Eliot commands the best homage of my heart. I forewarn you that I -am going desperately into this affair. Such luck never came my way -before." - -"Stop at the confectioner's for the macaroons, Henry," said his wife, -ignoring transports. "Alan, you are looking wretched. When I think of -those ruddy, brown cheeks, and the look of vigor you brought out of -your college athletics a few years back, I'm inclined to renounce mind -and go in for muscle exclusively. Oh, that wretched grind of life in -New York that crushes the youth and spirit out of you poor boys that -have to toil for a living! Surely, it isn't _only_ law that's worked -such havoc in those pale, thin cheeks--" - -"My dear Agatha, your sympathy would put a well man in his bed," said -Mr. Gervase, whose keen eyes took in more of the actual situation than -did his wife's. - -"Oh well!--stop here, please; no, I won't get down, Jonas sees me; he -will be out directly, with the parcel--you must see, Henry, that Alan -has changed, even since--" - -"Alan, let me tell you of a bill our friend Jonas, here, who is a bit -of a horse-jockey, as well as local confectioner and pastry-cook, -sent in recently to your aunt. He had been selling her a mate to her -chestnut, and the account ran this way: - - "'MRS. H. GERVASE TO I. JONAS, DR. - 1 lb. lady-fingers $ 0.30 - One horse 250.00 - 1/2 lb. cream peppermints 0.20 - ------ - Total, $250.50'" - -Grove was glad to cover his various discomforts with a laugh. But he -did not find it easy to elude the vigilance of Mrs. Gervase, who bided -her time until an opportunity presented itself for an uninterrupted -talk with him. - -"Stretch yourself out on that bamboo couch, and let me put the pillows -in," she said, when they two adjourned to the veranda, in the twilight -after dinner. "It is such fun to have a boy to cosset once more, with -my own lads at college, and three weeks to wait before I can get Tom -and Louis back from New London after the boat-race." - -"You have such an inspired faculty for making men comfortable," Grove -remarked, from the depths of his _bien-etre_. - -"Custom, I suppose. An only daughter, with a father and three brothers -to wait upon till I married, and a husband and two sons to impose on -me since. I should not know how to handle girls. I like them, of -course,--find them all very well in their way,--but they bother me. -Perhaps it is that there are no old-fashioned girls any more--no young -ones, certainly. They come into the world like Minerva from Jove's -brain. They are so learned, or clever, or worldly-wise, read -everything, see everything, hear everything discussed, have no -illusions--but, there, I can't explain my preference. Men are -captious, obstinate, whimsical, by turns; disappoint one continually -in little things--but in the main they are so broad and big; scatter -nonsense into thin air; are so loyal and unswerving to their beliefs; -know where they stand, and, having made up their minds to action, do -not change." - -"In short," remarked Grove, "you are like the little servant-maid in -Cranford, when they told her to hand the potatoes to the ladies first. -'I'll do as you bid me, ma'am, but I like the lads best.' My dearest -auntie, there must be guardian angels specially appointed to look -after our sex, and you are one of them. This is the age and America is -the field for the unchecked efflorescence of young womankind. But when -the conversation takes on this complexion, I feel it to be unfair not -to allow the defendant the assistance of counsel; though, even if -Uncle Henry were here, I am sure we should both be demolished -speedily." - -"Never mind Henry," said that gentleman's representative. "He has got -a new letter from a man in London whom he keeps for the purpose of -making him miserable with catalogues of sales of books and papers he -can't afford to buy. But he potters over them, and marks the lists, -and writes back to the man in London, and, as you know, we do manage -to become possessed of much more dear antiquity than the house will -hold or our income warrant. This time, he is buried alive for an hour -to come, for it is about a sale of Sir Philip Francis's letters and -manuscripts at Sotheby's very soon." - -"I don't believe the real 'Junius' announcing himself would get me out -of this bamboo chair and away from this deepening of eventide upon the -sea and islands, the afterglow of sunset melting into moonlight, the -soft caressing of the salt air blending with those hidden heliotropes -of yours! Now, dear lady, let's go back to the concrete. I knew, the -moment your eagle eye fell on me this afternoon, you would find out -all that in me is. For so many years I've been telling you my scrapes, -I may as well out with the latest and biggest of them. Two months ago, -I took Gladys Eliot in to dinner at the Sargents'. I kept it from you -in town, for which you'll say I am properly punished. I fell in love -with her, like a schoolboy with green apples, heeding not the danger -of unwholesomeness. After that, I met her when and wherever I could -push my way to her. I thought of her, sleeping and waking; received -from her looks and tones and words that would, as the lady novelists -are so fond of saying, 'tempt an anchorite;' _believed_ in her!" - -"My poor child, how wretched!" said Mrs. Gervase, promptly. - -"So it proved. Last but not least of the comedy,--I skip the -details,--I was deluded into buttoning myself up in a fluffy, -long-tailed, iron-gray coat that I got in London last spring and had -not had time to wear, put on a bunch of white carnations, and drove -out to one of those inane Claremont teas in my friend Pierre Sargent's -trap, because, forsooth, _she_ asked me. For an hour I suffered -martyrdom in that little greenhouse sort of a veranda, with people -herded together gossiping, and not setting their feet upon the lawn -over the river that they came out to see. Women talked drivel to me, -waiters slopped tea over me, and we walked on slices of buttered -bread. Then _she_ came--on the box-seat of that brute McLaughlin's -drag, having eyes for him only, so that every one talked of it!" - -"I remember--and I could not imagine what brought you there. Yes, I -sat down on a little cake and completely ruined my new porcelain-blue -_crepon_--those waiters were very careless. Jolly faded it trying to -take out the spot, and Mathilde had the greatest trouble to match the -stuff. Alan, that man McLaughlin ought to be drummed out of polite -society. The girl who would receive his attentions, let herself be -talked of as likely to be his wife, cannot at heart be nice. When your -dear mother and I were girls, we would not have _looked_ at a big, -vulgar creature like that, simply because he drove four-in-hand and -was known to be rich. He would never have been asked to your -grandfather's table. The materialism of this age takes, to me, no form -more objectionable than the frank acceptance of such as he by women, -old and young." - -"Exactly," said Grove, grimly. "And when I met her at his side, she -turned away from him one moment with a banal jest for me, and then -quickly recaptured him, as if fearful he would escape. That, even my -infatuation would not suffer. I turned on my heel, and, until I met -her by chance on the boat to-day, have never seen her since." - -"What can have been her reason for not going abroad?" said Mrs. -Gervase, eagerly--a trifle suspiciously. - -Grove was silent. In his ear sounded a dulcet voice, murmuring as the -boat neared shore: "Perhaps, when you have consented to feel better -friends with me, you will come and let me tell you _why I stayed_." - -"You know, of course, that everybody says she is engaged? Her mother -has hinted it to Mrs. Prettyman. If it be to this McLaughlin, then God -knows you are well rid of her. If that be a blind, Alan dear,--you -know it was always my way with you boys to scold about little things -and let great ones pass,--I shan't add a word to your self-reproach; -but I'll warn you--oh! I won't have the sin on my soul of letting you -go unwarned. That woman, no matter whether she thinks she loves you or -not, would make your misery. The parents of to-day don't trouble -themselves to train up wives for the rank and file of our honest -gentlemen. They create fine ladies, and look about for some one to -take the expense of them off their hands. It is common talk that the -Eliots have been strained to their utmost means to carry their girls -from place to place, with the expectation of making rich marriages. -The beauty and success of this one has apparently blinded those poor -people to the consequences of their folly. The girl has been brought -up to fancy herself of superior clay,--her habits are luxurious, her -wants extravagant. - -"More than all, for five years she has been fed on the flatteries of -society. Personal praise is indispensable to her. She has lived and -consorted with the most lavish entertainers of the most reckless -society in our republic. Even supposing that you won her beauty and -graces for your own, what on earth could you expect to offer her in -exchange for what she would give up? My poor, dear lad, I'm talking -platitudes, you think; but you and Tom and Louis shall not be allowed -to wreck your futures upon such as Gladys Eliot, while I have breath -to speak. I'm afraid I think all marriages a mistake for young men. I -know they are, as we measure and value things, in what we call -'fashionable life.' Go out of it, by all means, if you can. To take -_her_ out of it you would find to be quite another matter. And now, -after this long homily, I've one question to put. Answer it, if you -like--if you think I've the right to ask it. After seeing her again -to-day, do you feel there is danger in her proximity?" - -"You have certainly torn sentiment to shreds," said Alan, getting up -from amid his cushions and beginning to stride up and down the long -veranda. Mrs. Gervase watched him without further speech. That he did -not again allude to the subject sent her to bed with keen anxiety and -a renewed regret that Mr. Gervase had not taken her advice about -buying that point of land before it fell into the hands of the -Prettymans. - -For the two or three days following his arrival at Stoneacres, Grove -made no attempt to see his neighbor's guest. Once, indeed, they -encountered her on horseback, while driving together in a family party -in the buckboard, behind the cobs. Mr. Gervase, who, in his later -enthusiasm about the Junius correspondence, had forgotten his -charmer, asked who was that stunning, pretty girl, and, on being -rallied by his wife, declared his poor sight was at fault, and that he -meant to call on the Prettymans that very day; but Saturday brought -with it the appointed dinner, without other overture from Stoneacres -than cards left by Mrs. Gervase when the ladies were from home. - -Grove was hardly surprised when, on descending to the drawing-room in -evening clothes, he found only that very colorless pair of Prettymans. -Miss Eliot, it was alleged, was suffering from too long a ride in the -hot sun of the afternoon to make the effort to come out. He saw in the -countenance of his aunt a look of relief, which she at once proceeded -to mask by unusual suavity to mankind in general, her flattered guests -in particular. - -"The worst is over; I am safe," Grove decided. "But I like her all the -better for that womanly holding back. Now, to live down my folly as -best I can." - -He threw himself into hard work, and the days passed healthily. Mrs. -Gervase had begun to relax her vigilance, to breathe almost free of -care, when, upon one of his morning rides, ahead of him in a forest -glade, he espied Gladys Eliot, in the saddle, attended by one of the -Prettyman boys, a youngster of thirteen, mounted on a polo pony in -process of "showing off" his and his master's accomplishments. - -At the sound behind them, both Gladys and the boy turned to look; and -Grove saw that he could not retreat without a decided lack of dignity. -He therefore rode by them, receiving from Miss Eliot a faint and -chilly nod; from the boy,--an acquaintance of last year,--a more -cordial salutation. - -"I say, Mr. Grove, _can't_ Punch take that fallen tree?" cried out the -lad, in shrill treble. "_She_ says it's dangerous, because the bank is -caved. Hold on one minute, and I'll show you he can clear it, bank and -all." - -Punch, proving nothing loth, jumped the obstacles in question -gallantly, but on the far side slipped on something, and spilled his -rider among a bed of tall bracken, in which the boy lay, lost to -sight. Both Grove and Gladys were in a minute at his side, shocked at -finding him white and senseless. - -"It was not the fall," she said, rapidly. "He has heart-trouble, and -his mother is always anxious about a sudden shock for him. He will -outgrow it probably, the doctors say. Here, you hold him in your arms, -while I get water from that brook. I know what to do, and he will soon -come to himself." - -Grove found himself silently obeying her behests. He was struck by her -prompt presence of mind, her deftness, and good sense. "What an -admirable trained nurse is lost to the world in her!" he thought, and, -when all was done, and the boy gave token of returning life, sat -still, content to crush down moss and ferns, awkwardly holding his -burden, while Gladys knelt so close that her breath in speaking fanned -his cheek. - -"It wasn't Punch's fault. I've got a big bee buzzing in my head," were -the welcome words they at last heard from the sufferer. - -"Yes, I know, Jim dear, but don't talk now till the big bee flies -away," and the boy, closing his eyes, appeared to sleep. - -"Lay his head on my lap, and then, if you don't mind riding back and -ordering some sort of a trap, without letting his mother know--" - -"I can't leave you here. It is too far from home, and the country -hereabouts is quite bare of dwellings. Nor would I like you to ride so -far alone. There; let him sleep, and we will watch him till he wakes. -No doctor could have treated him more cleverly than you." - -"It's the result of a 'First Aid to the Injured' class I went to once, -perhaps. But I always had a knack with ill people," she said, dropping -the deep fringes of her eyes upon damask cheeks. - - * * * * * - -That evening, Grove could do no less than call to inquire after Master -Jim, who, not much the worse for his attack, kept his adoring mother -in durance at his bedside, while Grove sat watching the opal flushes -die out of a western sky, in company with Gladys. Quite another -Gladys was this, in all save beauty and her dulcet voice, from his -enslaver of town life. - -And now, to Mrs. Gervase's ill-concealed dismay, visits, meetings, -rides, boating, began and continued daily. Grove was teaching Miss -Eliot chess, he said, and the other things were what they call upon -the stage "incidental divertisements." - -A fortnight of glorious weather had passed thus, when, on the eve of -Grove's return to town and work, he asked Gladys to go out in a boat -with him to watch the sunset on the water. - -"Now you have told me there is no reason I may not speak, I can wait -no longer for an answer," he said, as, resting on his oars, he scanned -her face eagerly. "When a man tears his heart out and throws it at a -woman's feet, surely he offers something. But that, you know, is my -all. If you can consent to share the kind of life mine has got to be -for the next five or six years, I think I see daylight beyond. By that -time, your first youth will be gone, you will be forgotten by the -people who court you now, you will be a nobody in their esteem. To me, -you will always be the one woman of the world. You will have the full -love of my heart; and you shall see what that means, when a true man -pours it upon you unrestrained. I don't pretend to be worth it, Heaven -knows. But I do say you have never before been loved by a man like me, -and you know it and feel it thoroughly. It's for you to take or leave -me, accepting consequences." - -"What a stand-and-deliver kind of love-making," Gladys tried to say; -but she was deeply stirred. Remaining silent, her eyes filled with -tears; her head drooped towards her breast. - -"Gladys!" cried he, exultingly. - -"Don't you see, now, the real reason why I could not go abroad?" she -said, smiling on him brightly, and lifting, at the same moment, her -ungloved left hand to put back a loose lock of hair that the wind had -blown across her cheek. Grove, gazing at her with his whole soul in -his eyes, became aware of a ring upon the fourth finger,--a ring of -such conspicuous brilliancy and choice gems as to convey but one -meaning,--and his expression changed. - -"Oh! I hate it! I shall give it back!" she exclaimed, a burning blush -settling upon her face. "I did not mean--it was an accident. I hate -it, I tell you! Why do you look at me like that?" - -She tore the ring from her hand, and impetuously put it out of sight. -Presently, as Grove, in mechanical fashion, resumed his rowing without -a word, she cried out, passionately: - -"Why do you not ask me to explain all the--circumstances of my life -since I saw you last? Why can't you understand that a girl situated as -I am has temptations that at times seem to her irresistible? Need I -mortify myself by telling you that I am _driven_--driven till I feel -as if I would do anything to get rest from eternal lectures about what -a rich marriage has got to do for me--and for others? Yes, you are -right in saying that a man like you never before asked me to marry -him. Because I feel that--because--because--Oh! you are cruel not to -speak--to help me! How can I put into words that I am willing to give -up all--" - -It was impossible, facing the rigid coldness of his face, to go on. -She sat in wretched silence till they reached shore, and he gave her -his chilly hand to help her upon the float. Then the touch of her -fingers sent a tremor of relenting into his veins. - -"Oh, if I could! If I could! But he too--that other one--believed. -Tell me; he does not still believe in you?" - -"I hate him," she said, doggedly. She shivered a little, as the -quickened breeze of evening struck her thinly-clad form. - -Grove, clasping her hand, gazed into her eyes with a desperate resolve -to read her heart. - -"Let me go--it is no use," she said, turning away from him. - -And, with a sigh deep as Fate, he loosened his hold of her--forever. - - - - -On Frenchman's Bay - -Chapter I - -From Maxwell Pollock, Esq., No. -- Fifth Avenue, New York, to Stephen -Cranbrooke, Esq., ---- Club, New York. - - "May 30, 189-. - - "My dear Cranbrooke: - - "You will wonder why I follow up our conversation of last - evening with a letter; why, instead of speaking, I should - write what is left to be said between us two. - - "But after a sleepless night, of which my little wife - suspects nothing, I am impelled to confide in you--my oldest - friend, _her_ friend, although you and she have not yet grown - to the comprehension of each other I hoped for when she - married me three years ago--a secret that has begun to weigh - heavy upon my soul. - - "I do not need to remind you that, since our college days, - you have known me subject to fits of moodiness and depression - upon which you have often rallied me. How many times you - have said that a fellow to whom Fate had given health, - strength, opportunity, and fortune--and recently the treasure - of a lovely and loving wife--has no business to admit the - word 'depression' into his vocabulary! - - "This is true. I acknowledge it, as I have a thousand times - before. I am a fool, a coward, to shrink from what is before - me. But I was still more of a fool and a coward when I - married her. For her sake, the prospect of my death before - this summer wanes impels me to own to you my certainty that - my end is close at hand. - - "In every generation of our family since the old fellow who - came over from England and founded us on Massachusetts soil, - the oldest son has been snatched out of life upon the - threshold of his thirtieth year. I carried into college with - me an indelible impression of the sudden and distressing - death of my father, at that period of his prosperous career, - and of the wild cry of my widowed mother when she clasped me - to her breast, and prayed Heaven might avert the doom from - me. - - "Everything that philosophy, science, common sense, could - bring to the task of arguing me out of a belief in the - transmission of this sentence of a higher power to me, has - been tried. I have studied, travelled, lived, enjoyed myself - in a rational way; have loved and won the one woman upon - earth for me, have revelled in her wifely tenderness. - - "I have tried to do my duty as a man and a citizen. In all - other respects, I believe myself to be entirely rational, - cool-headed, unemotional; but I have never been able to down - that spectre. He is present at every feast; and, although in - perfectly good health, I resolved yesterday to put the - question to a practical test. I called at the office of an - eminent specialist, whom I had never met, although doubtless - he knew my name, as I knew his. - - "Joining the throng of waiting folk in Dr. ----'s outer - office, I turned over the leaves of the last number of - _Punch_, with what grim enjoyment of its _menu_ of jocularity - you may conceive. When my turn came, I asked for a complete - physical examination. But the doctor got no farther than my - heart before I was conscious of awakening interest on his - part. When the whole business was over, he told me frankly - that in what he was pleased to call 'a magnificent physique,' - there was but one blemish,--a spot upon the ripe side of a - peach,--a certain condition of the heart that 'might or might - not' give serious trouble in the future. - - "'Might or might not'! How I envied the smooth-spoken man of - science his ability to say these words so glibly! While I - took his medical advice,--that, between us, was not worth a - straw, and he knew it, and I knew it,--I was thinking of - Ethel. I saw her face when she should know the worst; and I - became, immediately, an abject, cringing, timorous thing, - that crept out of the doctor's office into the spring - sunshine, wondering why the world was all a-cold. - - "Here's where the lash hits me: I should never have married - Ethel; I should, knowing my doom, have married no one but - some commonplace, platitudinous creature, whom the fortune I - shall leave behind me would have consoled. But Ethel! - high-strung, ardent, simple-hearted, worshipping me far - beyond my deserts! Why did I condemn her, poor girl, to what - is so soon to come? - - "On the fifteenth day of the coming August, I shall have - reached thirty years. Before that day, the blow will fall - upon her, and it is my fault. You know, Cranbrooke, that I do - not fear death. What manly soul fears death? It is only to - the very young, or to the very weak of spirit, the King - appears in all his terrors. Having expected him so long and - so confidently, I hope I may meet him with a courageous - front. But Ethel! Ethel! - - "She will be quite alone with me this summer. Her mother and - sisters have just sailed for the other side, and I confess I - am selfish enough to crave her to myself in the last hours. - But some one she must have to look after her, and whom can I - trust like you? I want you to promise to come to us to spend - your August holiday; to be there, in fact, when-- - - "In the meantime, there must be no suggestion of what I - expect. She, least of all, must suspect it. I should like to - go out to the unknown with her light-hearted, girlish laugh - ringing in my ears. - - "When we meet, as usual, you will oblige me by saying nothing - of this letter or its contents. By complying with this - request, you will add one more--a final one, dear old man--to - the long list of kindnesses for which I am your debtor; and, - believe me, dear Cranbrooke, - - "Yours, always faithfully, - - "MAXWELL POLLOCK." - - -"Good heaven!" exclaimed Stephen Cranbrooke, dropping the sheet as if -it burnt him, and sitting upright and aghast. "So _this_ is the cranny -in Pollock's brain where I have never before been able to penetrate." - -Later that day, Mr. Cranbrooke received another epistle, prefaced by -the house address of the Maxwell Pollocks. - - "Dear Mr. Cranbrooke," this letter ran, "Max tells me he has - extended to you an invitation to share our solitude _a deux_ - in your August holiday. I need hardly say that I endorse - this heartily; and I hope you will not regret to learn that, - instead of going, as usual, to our great, big, isolated - country-place in New Hampshire, I have persuaded Max to take - a cottage on the shore of Frenchman's Bay, near Bar - Harbor,--but not too near that gay resort,--where he can have - his sailboat and canoe, and a steam-launch for me to get - about in. They say the sunsets over the water there are - adorable, and Max has an artist's soul, as you know, and will - delight in the picturesque beauty of it all. - - "I want to tell you, confidentially, that I have fancied a - change of air and scene might do him good this year. He is - certainly not ill; but is, as certainly, not quite himself. I - suppose you will think I am a little goose for saying so; but - I believe if anything went wrong with Max, I could never - stand up against it. And there is no other man in the world, - than you, whom I would ask to help me to find out what it - really is that worries him,--whether ill-fortune, or - what,--certainly not ill-health, for he is a model of - splendid vigor, as everybody knows, my beautiful husband!" - -"This is what she calls pleasant reading for me," said plain, spare -Stephen Cranbrooke, with a whimsical twist of his expressive mouth. - - "At any rate," he read, resuming, "you and I will devote - ourselves to making it nice for him up there. No man, however - he loves his wife, can afford to do altogether without men's - society; and it is so hard for me to get Max to go into - general company, or to cultivate intimacy with any man but - you! - - "There is a bachelor's wing to the cottage we have taken, - with a path leading direct to the wharf where the boats are - moored; and this you can occupy by yourself, having breakfast - alone, as Max and I are erratic in that respect. We shall - have a buckboard for the ponies, and our saddle-horses, with - a horse for you to ride; and we shall pledge each other not - to accept a single invitation to anybody's house, unless it - please us to go there. - - "Not less than a month will we take from you, and I wish it - might be longer. Perhaps you may like to know there is no - other man Max would ask, and I should want, to be 'one of us' - under such circumstances. - - "Always cordially yours, - - "ETHEL POLLOCK." - -"I asked her for bread, and she gave me a stone," he quoted, with a -return of the whimsical expression. "Well! neither he nor she has ever -suspected my infatuation. I am glad she wrote as she did, though, for -it makes the watch I mean to set over Max easier. After looking at his -case in every aspect, I am convinced there is a remedy, if I can only -find it." - -A knock, just then, at the door of Mr. Cranbrooke's comfortable -bachelor sitting-room was followed by the appearance inside of it of a -man, at sight of whom Cranbrooke's careworn and puzzled countenance -brightened perceptibly. - -"Ha! Shepard!" he said, rising to bestow on the newcomer a hearty grip -of the hand. "Did you divine how much I wanted to talk to a fellow who -has pursued exactly your line of study, and one, too, who, more than -any other I happen to be acquainted with, knows just how far mind may -be made to influence matter in preventing catastrophe, when--but, -there, what am I to do? It's another man's affair,--a confidence that -must be held inviolable." - -"Give me the case hypothetically," said Shepard, dropping, according -to custom, into a leathern chair out at elbows but full of comfort to -the spine of reclining man, while accepting one of Cranbrooke's galaxy -of famously tinted pipes. - -"I think I will try to do so," rejoined his friend, "since upon it -hangs the weal or woe of two people, in their way more interesting to -me than any others in the world." - -"I am all ears," said Dr. Shepard, fixing upon Cranbrooke the full -gaze of a pair of deep-set orbs that had done their full share of -looking intelligently into the mystery of cerebral vagaries. -Cranbrooke, as well as he could, told the gist of Pollock's letter, -expressing his opinion that to a man of the writer's temperament the -conviction of approaching death was as good as an actual -death-warrant. - -Shepard, who asked nothing better than an intelligent listener when -launched upon his favorite theories, kept the floor for fifteen -minutes in a brilliant offhand discourse full of technicalities -intermingled with sallies of strong original thought, to which -Cranbrooke listened, as men in such a case are wont to do, in -fascinated silence. - -"But this is generalizing," the doctor interrupted himself at last. -"What you want is a special discussion of your friend's condition. Of -course, not knowing his physical state, I can't pretend to say how -long it is likely to be before that heart-trouble will pull him up -short. But the merest tyro knows that men under sentence from -heart-disease have lived their full span. It is the obsession of his -mind, the invasion of his nerves by that long-brooding idea, that -bothers me. I am inclined to think the odds are he will go mad if he -doesn't die." - -"Good God, Shepard!" came from his friend's pale lips. - -"Isn't that what _you_ were worrying about when I came in? Yes--you -needn't answer. You think so, too; and we are not posing as wise men -when we arrive at that simple conclusion." - -"What on earth are we to do for him?" - -"I don't know, unless it be to distract his mind by some utterly -unlooked-for concatenation of circumstances. Get his wife to make love -to another man, for instance." - -"Shepard, you forget; these are my nearest friends." - -"And you forget I am a sceptic about a love between the sexes that -cannot be alienated," answered the little doctor, coolly. - -Cranbrooke had indeed, for a moment, lost sight of his confidant's -dark page of life--forgotten the experience that, years ago, had -broken up the doctor's home, and made of him a scoffer against the -faith of woman. He was silent, and Shepard went on with no evidence of -emotion. - -"When that happened to _me_, it was a dynamite explosion that -effectually broke up the previous courses of thought within me; and, -naturally, the idea occurs to me as a specific for the case of your -melancholy friend. Seriously, Cranbrooke, you could do worse than -attack him from some unexpected quarter, in some point where he is -acutely sensitive--play upon him, excite him, distract him, and so -carry him past the date he fears." - -"How could I?" asked Cranbrooke of himself. - -There was another knock; and, upon Cranbrooke's hearty bidding to come -in, there entered no less a person than the subject of their -conversation. - -Even the astute Shepard finished his pipe and took his leave without -suspecting that the manly, healthy, clear-eyed, and animated Maxwell -Pollock had anything in common with the possessed hero of Cranbrooke's -story. Cranbrooke, who had dreaded a reopening of the subject of -Pollock's letter, was infinitely relieved to find it left untouched. - -The visit, lasting till past midnight, was one of a long series dating -back to the time when they were undergraduates at the university. -There had never been a break in their friendship. The society of -Cranbrooke, after that of his own wife, was to Pollock ever the most -refreshing, the most inspiring to high and manly thought. They talked, -now, upon topics grave and gay, without hinting at the shadow -overlying all. Pollock was at his best; and his friend's heart went -out to him anew in a wave of that sturdy affection "passing the love -of woman"--rare, perhaps, in our material money-getting community, -but, happily, still existing among true men. - -When the visitor arose to take leave, he said in simple fashion: "Then -I may count on you, Cranbrooke, to stand by us this summer?" - -"Count on me in all things," Cranbrooke answered; and the two shook -hands, and Pollock went his way cheerily, as usual. - -"Is this a dream?" Cranbrooke asked himself, when left alone. "Can it -be possible that sane, splendid fellow is a victim of pitiful -hallucination, or that he is really to be cut off in the golden summer -of his days. No, it can't be; it must not be. He must be, as Shepard -says, 'pulled up short' by main force. At any cost, I must save him. -But how? _Anyhow!_ Max must be made to forget himself--even if I am -the sacrifice! By George! this _is_ a plight I'm in! And Ethel, who -adores the ground he walks upon! I shall probably end by losing both -of them, worse luck!" - -The morning had struggled through Cranbrooke's window-blinds before he -stirred from his fit of musing and went into his bedroom for a few -hours of troubled sleep. - - -Chapter II - -Mr. and Mrs. Pollock took possession of their summer abiding-place on -a glorious day of refulgent June, such as, in the dazzling atmosphere -of Mount Desert Island, makes every more southerly resort on our -Atlantic coast seem dull by comparison. To greet them, they found a -world of fresh-washed young birches sparkling in the sun; of -spice-distilling evergreens, cropping up between gray rocks; of -staring white marguerites, and huge, yellow, satin buttercups, ablow -in all the clearings; of crisp, young ferns and blue iris, unfolding -amid the greenery of the wilder bits of island; haunts that were soon, -in turn, to be blushing pink with a miracle of brier-roses. - -And what a charmed existence followed! In the morning, they awoke to -see the water, beneath their windows, sparkle red in the track of the -rising sun; the islets blue-black in the intense glow. All day they -lived abroad in the virgin woods, or on the bay in their canoe. And, -after sunsets of radiant beauty, they would fall asleep, lulled by the -lapping of little waves upon the rock girdle that bound their lawn. It -was all lovely, invigorating, healthful. Of the cottagers who composed -the summer settlement, only those had arrived there who, like the -Pollocks, wanted chiefly to be to themselves. - -In these early days of the season, Max and Ethel liked to explore on -horseback the bosky roads that thread the island, startling the mother -partridge, crested and crafty, from her nest, or sending her, in -affected woe, in a direction to lead one away from where her brood was -left; lending themselves to the pretty comedy with smiles of sympathy. -Or else, they would rifle the ferny combs of dew-laden blossoms, all -the while hearkening to the spring chatter of birds that did their -best to give utterance to what wind-voice and leaf-tone failed to -convey to human comprehension. Then, emerging from green arcades, our -equestrians would find themselves, now, in some rocky haunt of -primeval solitude facing lonely hilltops and isolated tarns; now, -gazing upon a stretch of laughing sea framed by a cleft in the -highlands. - -Another day, they would climb on foot to some higher mountain top, and -there, whipped by tonic breezes, stand looking down upon the wooded -waves of lesser summits, inland; and, seaward, to the broad Atlantic, -with the ships; and, along the coast, to the hundreds of fiords, with -their burden of swirling waters! - -Coming home from these morning expeditions with spirit refreshed and -appetite sharpened, it was their custom to repair, after luncheon, to -the water, and by the aid of sails, steam, or their own oars or -paddles, cut the sapphire bay with tracks of argent brightness, or -linger for many a happy hour in the green shadow of the sylvan shore. - -The month of July was upon the wane before husband and wife seemingly -aroused to the recollection that their idyl was about to be -interrupted by the invasion of a third person. Ethel, indeed, had -pondered regretfully upon the coming of Cranbrooke for some days -before she spoke of it to her husband; while Max!-- - -The real purpose of Cranbrooke's visit, dismissed from Pollock's mind -with extraordinary success during the earlier weeks of their stay upon -the island, had by now assumed, in spite of him, the suggestion of a -death-watch set upon a prisoner. He strove not to think of it. He -refrained from speaking of it. So delicious had been to him the draft -of Ethel's society, uninterrupted by outsiders, in this Eden of the -eastern sea; so perfect their harmony of thought and speech; so -charming her beauty, heightened by salt air and outdoor exercise and -early hours, Max wondered if the experience had been sent to him as an -especial allowance of mercy to the condemned. To the very day of -Cranbrooke's arrival, even after a trap had been sent to the evening -boat to fetch him, the husband and wife refrained from discussing the -expected event. - -It was the hour before sunset, following a showery afternoon; and, -standing together upon their lawn to look at the western sky, Max -proposed to her to go out with him for awhile in the canoe. They ran -like children, hand in hand, to the wharf, where, lifting the frail -birch-bark craft from its nest, he set it lightly afloat. Ethel, -stepping expertly into her place, was followed by Max, who, in his -loose cheviot shirt, barearmed and bareheaded, flashing his red-dyed -paddle in the clear water, seemed to her the embodiment of manly grace -and strength. - -They steered out into the bay; and, as they paused to look back upon -the shore, the glory of the scene grew to be unspeakable. Behind the -village, over which the electric globes had not yet begun to gleam, -towered Newport, a rampart of glowing bronze, arched by a rainbow -printed upon a brooding cloud. Elsewhere, the multicolored sky flamed -with changing hues, reflected in a sea of glass. And out of this sea -arose wooded islands; and, far on the opposite shore of the mainland, -the triple hills had put on a vestment of deepest royal purple. - -"I like to look away from the splendor, to the side that is in -shadow," said Ethel. "See, along that eastern coast, how the -reflected sunlight is flashed from the windows on that height, and the -blue columns of hearth smoke arise from the chimneys! Doesn't it make -you somehow rejoice that, when the color fades, as it soon must, we -shall still have our home and the lights we make for ourselves to go -back to?" - -There was a long silence. - -"What has set you to moralizing, dear?" he asked, trying to conceal -that he had winced at her innocent question. - -"Oh! nothing. Only, when one is supremely happy, as I am now, one is -afraid to believe it will endure. How mild the air is to-night! Look -over yonder, Max; the jewelled necklace of Sorrento's lights has begun -to palpitate. Let us paddle around that fishing-schooner before we -turn." - -"Ethel, you are crying." - -"Am I? Then it is for pure delight. I think, Max, we had never so fine -an inspiration as that of coming to Mount Desert. My idea of the place -has always been of a lot of rantipole gaieties, and people crowded in -hotels. While this--it is a little like Norway, and a great deal like -Southern Italy. Besides, when before have we been so completely to -ourselves as in that gray stone lodge by the waterside, with its hood -of green ivy, and the green hill rising behind it? Let us come every -year; better still, let us build ourselves a summer home upon these -shores." - -"Should you like me to buy the cottage we now have, so that you can -keep it to come to when you like?" - -"When _you_ like, you mean. Max, it can't be you have caught cold in -this soft air, but your voice sounds a little hoarse. Well! I suppose -we must go in, for Mr. Cranbrooke will be arriving very soon." - -Ethel's sigh found an echo in one from her husband, at which the -April-natured young woman laughed. - -"There, it's out! We don't want even Cranbrooke, do we? To think the -poor, dear man's coming should have been oppressing both of us, and -neither would be first to acknowledge it! After all, Max darling, it -is your fault. It was you who proposed Cranbrooke. I knew, all along, -that I'd be better satisfied with you alone. Now, we must just take -the consequence of your overhasty hospitality, and make him as happy -as we are--if we can." - -"If we can!" said Max; and she saw an almost pathetic expression drift -across his face--an expression that bewildered her. - -"Why do you look so rueful over him?" - -"I am thinking, perhaps, how hard it will be for him to look at -happiness through another man's eyes." - -"Nonsense! Mr. Cranbrooke is quite satisfied with his own lot. He is -one of those self-contained men who could never really love, I think," -said Mrs. Pollock, conclusively. - -"He has in some way failed to show you his best side. He has the -biggest, tenderest heart! I wish there was a woman fit for him, -somewhere. But Stephen will never marry, now, I fear. She who gets him -will be lucky--he is a very tower of strength to those who lean on -him." - -"As far as strength goes, Max, you could pick him up with your right -hand. It may be silly, but I do love your size and vigor; when I see -you in a crowd of average men, I exult in you. Imagine any woman who -could get _you_ wanting a thin, sallow person like Cranbrooke!" - -"He can be fascinating, when he chooses," said Max. - -"The best thing about Cranbrooke, Max, is that he loves you," answered -his wife, wilfully. - -"Then I want you, henceforth, to try to like him better, dear; to like -him for himself. He is coming in answer to my urgent request; and I -feel certain the more you know of him, the more you will trust in him. -At any rate, give him as much of your dear self as I can spare, and -you will be sure of pleasing me." - -"Max, now I believe it is you who are crying because you are too -happy. I never heard such a solemn cadence in your voice. I don't want -a minute of this lovely time to be sad. When we were in town, I -fancied you were down--about something; now, you are yourself again; -let me be happy without alloy. I am determined to be the _cigale_ of -the French fable, and dance and sing away the summer. Between us, we -may even succeed in making that sober Cranbrooke a reflection of us -both. There, now, the light has faded; quicken your speed; we must go -ashore and meet him. See, the moon has risen--O Max darling, to please -me, paddle in that silver path!" - -This was the Ethel her husband liked best to see,--a child in her -quick variations of emotion, a woman in steadfast tenderness. -Conquering his own strongly excited feeling, he smiled on her -indulgently; and when, their landing reached, Cranbrooke's tall form -was descried coming down the bridge to receive them, he was able to -greet his friend with an unshadowed face. - -The three went in to dinner, which Ethel, taking advantage of the -soft, dry air, had ordered to be served in a _loggia_ opening upon the -water. The butler, a sympathetic Swede, had decked their little round -table with wild roses in shades of shell-pink, deepening to crimson. -The candles, burning under pale-green shades, were scarcely stirred by -the faint breeze. Hard, indeed, to believe that, upon occasion, that -couchant monster, the bay, could break up into huge waves, ramping -shoreward, leaping over the rock wall, upon the lawn, up to the -_loggia_ floor, and there beat for admission to the house, upon -storm-shutters hastily erected to meet its onslaught! - -To-night, a swinging lantern of wrought iron sent down through its -panels of opal glass a gentle illumination upon three well-pleased -faces gathered around the dainty little feast. Ethel, who, in the days -of gipsying, would allow no toilets of ceremony, retained her -sailor-hat, with the boat-gown of white serge, in which her infantile -beauty showed to its best advantage. Cranbrooke was dazzled by the new -bloom upon her face, the new light in her eye. - -Pollock, too, tall, broad-shouldered, blonde, clean-shaven save for a -mustache, his costume of white flannel enhancing duly the transparent -healthiness of his complexion, looked wonderfully well--so Cranbrooke -thought and said. - -"Does he not?" cried Ethel, exultingly. "I knew you would think so. -Max has been reconstructed since we have lived outdoors in this -wonderful air. Just wait, Mr. Cranbrooke, till we have done with you, -and you, too, will be blossoming like the rose." - -"I, that was a desert, you would say," returned Cranbrooke, smiling. -Involuntarily it occurred to him to contrast his own outer man with -that of his host. Somehow or other, the fond, satisfied look Ethel -bestowed upon her lord aroused anew in their friend an old, teasing -spirit of envy of nature's bounty to another, denied to him. - -As the moon transmuted to silver the stretch of water east of them, -and the three sat over the table, with its _carafes_ and decanters and -egg-shell coffee-cups, till the flame of a cigar-lighter died utterly -in its silver beak, their talk touching all subjects pleasantly, -Cranbrooke persuaded himself he had indeed been dreaming a bad dream. -The journey thither, of which every mile had been like the link of a -chain, was, for him, after all, a mere essay at pleasure-seeking. He -had come on to spend a jolly holiday with a couple of the nicest -people in the world--nothing more! His fancies, his plans, his -devices, conceived in sore distress of spirit, were relegated to the -world of shadows, whence they had been summoned. - -When Ethel left the two men for the night, and the butler came out to -collect his various belongings, Pollock rose and bade Cranbrooke -accompany him to see the mountains from the other side of the house. -Here, turning their backs on the enchantment of the water view, they -looked up at an amphitheatre of hills, dominated in turn by rocky -summits gleaming in the moon. But for the lap of the water upon the -coast, the stir of a fresh wind arising to whisper to the leaves of a -clump of birches, Mother Earth around them was keeping silent vigil. - -"What a perfect midsummer night!" said Cranbrooke, drawing a deep -breath of enjoyment. "After the heat and dust of that three hundred -miles of railway journey from Boston, this _is_ a reward!" - -"We chose better than we knew the scene of my euthanasia," answered -Pollock, without a tremor in his voice. - -A thrill ran through Cranbrooke's veins. He could have sworn the air -had suddenly become chill, as if an iceberg had floated into the bay. -He tried to respond, and found himself babbling words of weak -conventionality; and all the while the soul of the strong man within -him was saying: "It must not be. It shall not be. If I live, I shall -rescue you from this ghastly phantom." - -"Don't think it necessary to give words to what you feel for me," said -Pollock, smiling slightly. "You are not making a brilliant success of -it, old man, and you'd better stop. And don't suppose I mean to -continue to entertain my guest by lugubrious discussions of my -approaching _finale_. Only, it is necessary that you should know -several things, since the event may take us unawares. I have made you -my executor, and Ethel gets all there is; that's the long and short of -my will, properly signed, attested, and deposited with my lawyer -before I left town. Ethel's mother and sisters will be returning to -Newport in a fortnight, and they will, no doubt, come to the poor -child when she needs them. There _must_ be some compensation for a -decree of this kind, and I have it in the absolute bliss I have -enjoyed since we came here. That child-wife of mine is the most -enchanting creature in the world. If I were not steeped in -selfishness, I could wish she loved me a little less. But all emotions -pass, and even Ethel's tears will dry." - -"Good Heaven, Max, you are talking like a machine! One would think -this affair of yours certain. Who are you, to dare to penetrate the -mystery of the decrees of your Maker--" - -"None of that, if you please, Cranbrooke," interrupted Pollock; "I -have fought every inch of the way along there, by myself, and have -been conquered by my conviction. Did I tell you that my father, before -me, struggled with similar remonstrances from _his_ friends? The -parsons even brought bell and book to exorcise his tormentor--and all -in vain. He was snuffed out in full health, as I shall be, and why -should I whine at following him? Come, my dear fellow, I am keeping -you out of a capital bed, from sleep you must require. There's but one -matter in which you can serve me,--take Ethel into your care. Win her -fullest confidence; let her know that when I am not there, _you will -be_." - -Cranbrooke went to his room, but not to rest. When his friends next -saw him, he was returning from a solitary cruise about the bay in a -catboat Pollock kept at anchor near their wharf. - -"Why, Mr. Cranbrooke!" cried Ethel, lightly. "The boatman says you -have been out ever since daybreak. But that we espied the boat tacking -about beyond that far rock, I should have been for sending in search -of you." - -"Cranbrooke is an accomplished sailor," said Max. "But just now, -breakfast's the thing for him, Ethel. See that he is well fed, while I -stroll out to the stable and look after the horses." - -As he crossed the greensward, Ethel's gaze followed him, till he -disappeared behind a clump of trees. Then she turned to her guest. - -"Let me serve you with all there is, until they bring you something -hot," she said, with her usual half-flippant consideration of him. "Do -you know you look very seedy? I have, for my part, no patience with -these early morning exploits." - -"If you could have seen the world awakening as I saw it, this morning, -you would condone my offence," he answered, a curious expression Ethel -thought she had detected in his eyes leaving them unclouded, as he -spoke. - - -Chapter III - -No one who knew Stephen Cranbrooke well could say he did anything by -halves. In the days that followed his arrival at Mount Desert, Max -Pollock saw that his friend was lending every effort to the task of -establishing friendly relations with his wife. From her first -half-petulant, half-cordial manner with him,--the manner of a woman -who tries to please her husband by recognition of the claim of his -nearest male intimate,--Ethel had passed to the degree of manifestly -welcoming Cranbrooke's presence, both when with her husband and -without him. - -As Max saw this growing friendship, he strove to increase it by -absenting himself from Ethel, instead of, as heretofore, spending -every hour he could wring from the society of other folk, in the light -of her smiles. His one wish that Ethel might be insensibly led to -find another than himself companionable; that she might be, though -never so little, weaned from her absolute dependence upon him for -daily happiness, before the blow fell that was to plunge her in -darkest night, kept him content in these acts of self-sacrifice. - -But, as was inevitable, his manner toward them both underwent a -trifling change. His old buoyancy of affection was succeeded by a -quiet, at times wistful, recognition of the fact that his friend and -his wife had now found another interest besides himself. But he was -proud to see Cranbrooke had justified his boast that he "could be -fascinating when he chose;" and he was glad to think Cranbrooke at -last realized the charm Ethel, apparently a mere bright bubble upon -the tide of society, had to a man of intellect and heart. "It was as I -said," the poor fellow repeated to himself, trying to find comfort in -the realization of his prescience; and when Ethel, alone with him, -would break into paeans of his friend, and wonder how she could have -been so blind to the "real man" before, Max answered her loyally that -his highest wish for both of them was at last gratified. - -Then the day came when there was question of a companion for Ethel in -a sailing-party to which she had accepted an invitation--and for Max -was destined an emotion something like distaste. - -They were sitting over the breakfast table,--a meal no longer -exclusive to wife and husband, as had been agreed, but shared by -Cranbrooke with due regularity,--when Ethel broached the subject. - -"You know, Max, I was foolish enough to promise that irresistible Mrs. -Clayton--when she would not take no for an answer, yesterday,--that -_some_ of us would join her water party to-day. It is to be an idle -cruise, with no especial aim--luncheon on board their schooner-yacht; -the sort of thing I knew would bore you to extinction--being huddled -up with the same people half the day." - -"It is the opening wedge--if you go to this, you will be booked for -others, that's all," said Max, preparing to say, in a martyrized way, -that he would accompany her, if she liked. - -"Oh, I knew you would feel that; and so I told her she must really -excuse my husband, but that I had no doubt Mr. Cranbrooke would accept -with pleasure. You see, Mr. Cranbrooke, what polite inaccuracies you -are pledged by friendship to sustain." - -"I _will_ go with pleasure," Stephen said, with what Max thought -almost unnecessary readiness. - -"Bravo!" cried Ethel. "This is the hero's spirit. And so, Max dear, -you will have a long day to yourself while I am experimenting in -fashionable pleasuring, and Mr. Cranbrooke is representing you in -keeping an eye on me." - -"You will, of course, be at home to dinner?" said her husband. - -"Surely. Unless breezes betray us, and we are driven to support -exhausted nature upon hardtack and champagne; for, of course, all of -the Claytons' luncheon will be eaten up, and there are no stores -aboard a craft like that. Will you order the buckboard for ten, dear? -We rendezvous at the boat-wharf. And, as there is no telling when we -shall be in, don't trouble to send to meet me. Mr. Cranbrooke and I -will pick up a trap to return in." - -Max saw them off in the buckboard; and, as Ethel turned at some little -distance and looked back at him, where he still stood on the gravel -before their vine-wreathed portal, waving her hand with a charming -grace, then settling again to a _tete-a-tete_ with Cranbrooke, he felt -vaguely resentful at being left behind. - -The clear, dazzling atmosphere, the sense of youthful vitality in his -being, made him repel the idea of exclusion from any function of the -animated world. He almost thought Ethel should have given him a chance -to say whether or no he would accompany her. Was it not, upon her -part, even a little bit--a _very_ little bit, lacking in proper wifely -feeling, to be so prompt in dispensing with his society, to accept -that of others for a whole, long, bright summer's day of pleasuring? - -This suggestion he put away from him as quickly as it came. He was -like a spoiled child, he said to himself, who does not expect to be -taken at his word. Ethel well knew his dislike of gossiping groups of -idle people; equally well she remembered, no doubt, his frequent -requests that she would mingle more with the world, take more pleasure -on her own account. And Cranbrooke,--dear old Cranbrooke,--of course -he was ready to punish himself by going off on such a party, when it -was an opportunity to serve his friend! - -So Max put his discontent away, and, mounting his horse, went off -alone for a ride half around the island, lunching at Northeast Harbor, -and returning, through devious ways, by nightfall. - -Restored to healthy enjoyment of all things by his day in the saddle, -he turned into the avenue leading to their house, buoyed up by the -sweet hope of Ethel returned--Ethel on the watch for him. Already, he -saw in fancy the gleam of her jaunty white yachting-costume between -the tubs of flowering hydrangeas ranged on either side the walk before -their door. The lamps inside--the "home lights," of which she had once -fondly spoken to him--were already lighted. She would, perhaps, be -worrying at his delay. He quickened his speed, and rode down the -avenue to the house at a brisk trot. The groom, who, from the stable, -had heard the horse's feet, started up out of the shrubbery to meet -him. But there was no other indication of a watch upon the movements -of the master of the house. - -"Mrs. Pollock has not returned, then?" he asked, conscious of -blankness in his tone. - -"No, sir; not yet. Our orders were, not to send for her, sir, as there -was no knowing when the party would get in." - -"Yes, the breeze has pretty much died out since sunset," said Pollock, -endeavoring to mask his disappointment by commonplace. - -He went indoors; and the house, carefully arranged though it was, with -flowers and furniture disposed by expert hands to greet the returning -of the master, seemed to him dull and chill. He ordered a cup of tea -for himself, and, bending down, put a match to the little fire of -birch-wood always kept laid upon the hearth of their picturesque hall -sitting-room. - -In a moment, the curling wreathes of pale azure that arose upon the -pyre of silvery-barked logs was succeeded by a generous flame. The -peculiarly sweet flavor of the burning birch was distilled upon the -air. Sipping the cup of tea, as he stood in his riding-clothes before -the fire, Max felt a consoling warmth invade his members and expand -his heart. - -"They will be in directly," he said; "and, by George, I shall be as -ready for my dinner as they for theirs." - -In one corner of the hall stood a tall, slender-necked vase, where he -had that morning watched Ethel arranging a sheaf of goldenrod with -brown-seeded marsh-grasses,--a combination her touch had made -individual and artistic to a striking degree. He recalled how, as she -had finished it, she looked around, calling him and Stephen from their -newspapers to admire her handiwork. He, the husband, had admired it -lazily from his divan of cushions in the corner. Cranbrooke had gone -over to stand beside his hostess, and thence they had passed, still in -close conversation, out to the grassy terrace above the sea. - -Now, why should this recollection awaken in Max Pollock a new sense -of the feeling he had been doing his best to dispose of all day? He -could not say; but there it was, to prick him with its invisible -sting. Then, too, the dinner-hour was past, and he was hungry. - -He went out upon the veranda at the rear, and surveyed the expanse of -water. Far off, between the electric ball that hung over the wharf of -the village, and the point of Bar Island, opposite, he saw a bridge of -lights from yachts of all sorts, with which the harbor was now full. -He fancied a little moving star of light, that seemed to creep beneath -the large ones, might be the Claytons' boat on her return, and, after -another interval of watching, called up a wharf authority by -telephone, and asked if the _Lorelei_ was in. - -"Not yet, sir," was the reply. "Probably caught out when the wind -fell. Will let you know the minute they are in sight." With which -assurance Mr. Pollock was finally driven by the pangs of natural -appetite to sit down alone to a cheerless meal. - -There was a message by telephone, as he finished his repast. The -_Lorelei_ was in, and Mrs. Pollock desired to speak with her husband. - -"We're all right," Ethel's voice said, "and I hope you haven't been -worried. They _insist_ on our going to dinner at a restaurant, and, of -course, you understand, I can't spoil the fun by refusing. _Couldn't_ -you come down and meet us?" - -His first impulse was to say yes; but a second thought withheld him. -He gave her a pleasant answer, however, bidding her enjoy herself -without thought of him, and adding: "Cranbrooke will look out for you -and bring you home." - -It was quite ten o'clock when they arrived at the cottage, Ethel in -high spirits, flushed with the excitement of a merry day, full of -chatter over people and things Max had no interest in, appealing to -Cranbrooke to enjoy her retrospects with her. She was "awfully sorry" -about having kept Max from his dinner; "awfully sorry" not to have -come home at once, but there was no getting out of the impromptu -dinner; and, of course, they had to wait for it; and she was the -first, after dinner, to make the move to go; Mr. Cranbrooke would -certify to that. - -"I don't need any certification, dear," said Max, gently; but he did -not smile. Cranbrooke, who sat with him after sleepy Ethel had retired -from the scene, felt his heart wrung at thought of certain things that -never entered into Ethel's little head. But he made no effort to -dispel the cloud that had settled over his friend's face. - -By and by, Cranbrooke, too, said good-night, and went off into his -wing, and Max was left alone with his cigar. - -The day on the water had verified Max's prediction that it would prove -"an opening wedge." Ethel, caught in the tide of the season's -gaieties, found herself impelled from one entertainment to the other; -their cottage was invaded by callers, their little informal dinners -were transformed into banquets of ceremony, as choice and more lively -than those of their conventional life in town. The only persons really -satisfied by the change of habits in the house were the servants, -who, like all artists, require a public to set the seal upon their -worth. - -Max, bewildered, found himself sometimes accompanying his wife to her -parties; oftener--struck with the ghastly inappropriateness of his -presence in such haunts--stopping at home and deputing to Cranbrooke -the escort of his wife. To his surprise, he perceived that Cranbrooke -was not only ready, but eager, on all occasions, to carry Ethel away -from him. But then, of course, this was precisely what he had wished. - -And Ethel, who lost no opportunity to tell Max how "good," how -"lovely," Cranbrooke had been to her, was she not carrying out to the -letter her husband's wishes? He observed, moreover, that Ethel was -even more impressed than he had expected her to be with that quality -of "fascination." Cranbrooke's mind was like a beautiful new country -into which she was making excursions, she said once; and Max, after a -moment's hesitation, agreed with her very warmly. - -At last, Maxwell Pollock awoke one morning, with a start of -disagreeable consciousness, to the fact that this was the eve of his -thirtieth birthday. Occupied as he had been with various thoughts that -had to do with his transient relations to this sublunary sphere, he -had actually allowed himself to lose sight of the swift approach of -his day of doom. Now, he arose, took his bath, dressed, and without -arousing his wife, who, in the room adjoining, slept profoundly after -a gay dance overnight, went alone to the waterside, with the intention -of going out in his canoe. - -Early as he was, Cranbrooke was before him, carrying the canoe upon -his head, moving after the fashion of some queer shelled-creature down -to the float. - -Max realized, with a sense of keen self-rebuke, that the spectacle of -his friend was repellant to him, and the prospect of a talk alone with -Stephen on this occasion, the last thing he would have chosen. - -And--evidently a part of the latter-day revolution of -affairs--Cranbrooke seemed to have forgotten that this day meant more -than another to Pollock. He greeted him cheerily, in commonplace -terms, commented on their identity of fancy in the matter of a paddle -at sunrise, and offered to relinquish the craft in favor of its owner. - -"Of course not. Get in, will you," said Max, throwing off his coat; -and, taking one of the paddles, while Cranbrooke plied the other, -their swift, even strokes soon carried them far over toward the -illuminated east. - -When well out upon the bay, they paused to watch the red coming of the -sun. Beautiful with matin freshness was the sleeping world around -them; and, inspired by the scene, Max, who was kneeling in the bow, -turned to exclaim to Cranbrooke, with his old, hearty voice, upon the -reward coming to early risers in such surroundings. - -"Jove, a man feels born again when he breathes air like this!" - -Cranbrooke started. It was almost beyond hope that Max should use such -a phrase, in such accents, at such a juncture. Immediately, however, -the exhilaration died out of Pollock's manner; and, again turning away -his face, he showed that his thoughts had reverted to the old sore -spot. He did not see the expression of almost womanly yearning in -Cranbrooke's face when the certainty of this was fixed upon his -anxious mind. - -The two men talked little, and of casual things only, while abroad. As -they returned to the house, Cranbrooke made a movement as if to speak -out something burning upon his tongue, and then, repressing it, walked -with hasty strides to his own apartment. - -The day passed as had done those immediately preceding it. Calls, a -party of guests at luncheon, a drive, absorbed Ethel's hours from her -husband. When she reached home, at tea-time, he had come in from -riding, and was standing alone in the hall, awaiting her. - -"How nice to find you here alone!" she cried, going up to kiss him, -and then taking her place behind the tea-tray. "Do sit down, and let -us imagine we are back in those dear old days before we were -overpowered by outsiders. Never mind! The rush will soon be over; we -shall be to ourselves again, you and I and--how stupid I am!" she -added, coloring. "You and I, I mean, for he must go back to town." - -"You mean Cranbrooke?" he said, as she thought, absent-mindedly, but -in reality with something like a cold hand upon his heart, that for a -moment gave him a sense of physical apprehension. Had _it_ come, he -wondered? - -But no, this was not physical; this was a shock of purely emotional -displeasure. Could he believe his ears, that Ethel, his wife, had -indeed blended another than himself with her dream of returning -solitude? - -"Yes, it will be all over soon," he said, mechanically. "Had you a -pleasant drive? And did you enjoy the box-seat with Egmont?" - -"Oh! Egmont, fortunately, can drive--if he _can't_ talk," she -answered, lightly. "I suppose I am fastidious, or else spoiled for the -conversation of ordinary men, after what I have had recently from -Cranbrooke. By the way, Max dear, are you relentless against going -with us to-night, to the _fete_ at the canoe club? You needn't go -inside the club-house, you know. It will be lovely to look at, from -the water." - -"With _us_? Then Cranbrooke has already promised?" - -"Yes, of course; he could not leave me in the lurch, could he, when my -husband is such an obstinate recluse?" - -"And how do you intend to get there?" - -"By water, stupid, of course; how else? I will be satisfied with the -rowboat, if you won't trust me in the canoe; but Mr. Cranbrooke is -such an expert with the paddle, I shouldn't think you would object to -letting me go with him. It will be perfectly smooth water, and the air -is so mild. Do say I may go in the canoe, dear; it's twice the fun." - -"I think you know that, unless I take you, it is my wish you go -nowhere at night in a canoe," he answered, coldly. - -Ethel was more hurt at his tone than disappointed by his refusal. She -could not think what had come over her husband, of late, so often had -this constrained manner presented itself to her advance. She set it -down to her unwonted indulgence in society, and promised herself, -with a sigh of relinquishment, that, after this summer, she would go -back to her life lived for Max alone. - -Then, Cranbrooke coming in with two or three visitors, who lingered -till almost dinner-time and were persuaded easily to stop for dinner, -there was no chance to indulge in meditations, penitential or -otherwise. When her guests took their departure, it was in the little -steam-launch, she and Cranbrooke accompanying the party, and all bound -for the _fete_, to be given on a wooded island in the bay. As they -were leaving the house, something impelled her to run back and, in the -semi-darkness of the veranda, seek her husband's side. - -"Max darling, kiss me good-by. Or, if you want me, let me stay with -you." - -"No, no; I want you to enjoy every moment while you can," he said, -withdrawing from her gaze to the shadow of a vine-wreathed column. - -"Max, your voice is strange. And once, at dinner, I saw you looking at -me, and there was something in your eyes that frightened me. If you -hadn't smiled, and lifted your glass to pledge me, I should not have -known what to think." - -"Ethel! Wife! Do you love me?" he said, catching her to his heart. - -"Max! Why, Max! You foolish boy, we shall be seen." - -"Tell me, and kiss me once more, my own, my own!" - -"They are all aboard except you, Mrs. Pollock," a voice said; and, -from the dew of the lawn, Cranbrooke stepped upon the veranda. - -Max started violently, and let his wife go from his embrace. - -"You see how rude you are making me toward our guests," said Ethel. -"You have my wrap, Mr. Cranbrooke? Good-night, Max; and to-morrow I'll -tell you all about it. Better change your mind and come after us, -though." - -"Max need not trouble to do so," put in Cranbrooke, in a muffled -voice. "As usual, I will fill his place." - -Max thought he almost hurried her away. They went down the slope of -the lawn together; and, at the steep descent leading to the bridge, -he saw Ethel stumble, and Cranbrooke throw his arm around her to -steady her. - -And now, a passion took possession of Maxwell Pollock's being that -impelled him to the impetuous action of following them to the wharf, -and gesticulating madly after the swift little steamer that bore them -away from him. - -"He dared take her, did he, when she would have stayed at a word from -me? I see all, now. Specious, false, damnably false, he has snared her -fancy in his net. But she loves me, I'll swear she loves me, and I'll -snatch her from him, if it is with the last effort of my strength. Is -there time? Well, what is to come, let it come! While there's life in -me, she is mine." - -A moment, and he was afloat in the canoe, no sign of weakness in his -powerful stroke with the paddle, no thought in his brain but the one -intense determination of the male creature to wrest his beloved from -the hands of his rival. - - * * * * * - -Every one conceded this to be quite the prettiest and most taking -event of the season. The rustic club-house, its peaked gable and -veranda defined with strings of colored lanterns, sent forth the music -of a band, while to its portal trooped maidens and cavaliers, landing -at the wharf from every variety of craft. The woods behind were linked -with chains of light, the shore below lit with bonfires, and more -evanescent eruptions of many-hued fireworks. Rockets hissed through -the air, and broke in a rain of violet, green, and crimson meteors, -till the zenith was a tangled mesh made by the trails of them; -fire-balloons arose and were lost among the stars; little fire-boats, -launched from vessels stocked for the purpose, bore their blazing -cargoes out upon the tide; other unnamed monsters were let loose to -carry apparent destruction zigzag through the waves. Every attendant -yacht, sloop, launch, rowboat, or canoe, with which the water about -the island was covered, carried quaint decoration in the guise of -Chinese lanterns. Some of the smaller boats were arched with these; -others tossed bouquets of fiery bubbles into the air. Creeping about -at a snail's pace among the crowded boats, invisible canoes carried -silent passengers; an occasional "oh!" of exclamation at the beauty of -the scene, the only contribution people felt inclined to make to -conversation. It was a pageant of bedazzlement, as if witches, gnomes, -spirits of earth, air, and the underworld, had mingled their resources -to enchant the eyes of mortals. And over all, sailed the lady-moon -serenely, forgotten, but sure that her time would come again. - -Max found his launch without difficulty, on the outer circle of the -amphitheatre of light. As he had divined, it was empty, save for the -two boatmen. - -"The ladies went ashore, sir," one of his men said, in answer to his -inquiry. "All but Mrs. Pollock, sir." - -"Mrs. Pollock? Where is she, then?" he asked, briefly. - -"She took our rowboat, sir, and went off on the water with one of the -gentlemen. Mr. Cranbrooke, I think it was; and they ordered us to wait -just here. No good going ashore, sir, if you want to see. It's better -from this point, even, than nearer in." - -"Very well," said the master, and at once his canoe moved off to be -lost in the crowd. - -He had sought for them in vain, peering into all the small boats -whenever the flash-light of the rockets, or the catharine-wheels on -the coast, lit the scene. Many a tender interlude was thus revealed; -but of the two people he now longed with the fever of madness to -discover, he saw nothing. - -At last, in a burst from a candle rocket, there was a glimpse of -Ethel's red boat-cloak, her bare, golden head rising above it. She was -sitting in the stern of the rowboat, Cranbrooke beside her, their bow -above water, their oars negligently trailing. Ethel's eyes were fixed -upon the glittering panorama; but Cranbrooke's eyes were riveted on -her. - -With an oath, Max drove his paddle fiercely into the sea. The canoe -sped forward like an arrow. Blind with anger, he did not observe that -he was directly in the track of a little steamer laden with new -arrivals, turning in toward the wharf. - -A new day dawned before the doctors, who had been all night battling -for Maxwell Pollock's life, left him restored to consciousness, and -reasonably secure of carrying no lasting ill effect from the blow on -his head received by collision with the steamer. - -Carried under with his canoe, he had arisen to full view in the glare -from a "set piece" of fireworks on the shore, beside the boat -containing Cranbrooke and his wife. It was Cranbrooke, not Ethel, who -identified the white face coming to the surface within reach of his -hand, then sinking again out of sight. It was Cranbrooke, also, who -sprang to Pollock's rescue, and, floating with his inert body, was -dragged with him aboard the launch. - -As the rosy light of the east came to play upon Pollock's features, he -opened his eyes for the first time with a look of intelligence. At his -bedside, Ethel was kneeling, her whole loving soul in her gaze. - -"Is this--I thought it was heaven," he said, feeling for her hand. - -"It is heaven for me, now that I have you back, my own darling," she -answered, through happy tears. - -"Have I been here long?" - -"A few hours since the accident. The doctors say you will be none the -worse for it. And, Max dear, only think! This is your birthday! Your -thirtieth birthday! Many, many, _many_ happy returns!" and she -punctuated her wish with warm kisses. - -At that juncture, Cranbrooke came into the room and stood at the side -of the bed opposite Ethel, who had no eyes for him, but kept on gazing -at her recovered treasure as if she could never have enough. - -Max, though aware of Stephen's presence, made no movement of -recognition, till Ethel spoke in playful chiding. - -"Darling! Where are your manners? Aren't you going to speak to our -friend, and thank him for saving you--saving you for _me_, thank God!" - -She buried her face in the bed-clothes, overcome with the -recollection; but even with the exquisite tenderness of her accents -thrilling in his ear, Max remained obstinately dumb to Stephen -Cranbrooke. - -"Forgive him; he is not himself!" pleaded Ethel, as she saw Cranbrooke -about to go dejectedly out of the room. - -"Some day he will understand me," answered Stephen, with a gallant -effort at self-control. Then, withdrawing, he murmured to himself: -"But he will never know that, in playing with his edged tools, it is I -who have got the death-blow." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Virginia Cousin & Bar Harbor Tales, by -Mrs Burton Harrison - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VIRGINIA COUSIN, BAR HARBOR TALES *** - -***** This file should be named 41591.txt or 41591.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/5/9/41591/ - -Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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